The last Borune emperor died childless, and the usual circus erupted in Tol Honeth as the great families contested with each other for the throne. Unfortunately, perhaps, the major houses had been quietly importing poisons from Nyissa, and various candidates for the imperial throne and assorted members of the Council of Advisors gave ample evidence of the virulence of those poisons.
Eventually, the Honeths won out – largely because they had enough money to buy the necessary votes – and to pay the exorbitant prices the Nyissans charged for their poisons. The Honethite family had lapsed into almost total incompetence, however, and they fortunately only stayed in power for about three hundred years or so. Then the Borunes came to power again. The Second Borune Dynasty was also a fairly short one, but they accomplished quite a bit. They expanded their highway system in Tolnedra proper, and they dispatched twenty legions ‘as a gesture of good will’ to what’s now Sendaria to construct the network of highways which linked the city of Sendar and the port at Camaar with Muros in the interior and Darine on the northeast coast.
The Chereks didn’t much care for that idea, since it permitted Tolnedran merchants to avoid the Cherek Bore entirely by shipping goods from Kotu to Darine and then overland to Camaar without Cherek hands ever touching them.
The last emperor of the second Borune Dynasty, the childless Ran Borune XII, took a direct hand in choosing his successor, and he passed imperial power on to the Horbite family. The Council of Advisors received no bribes, and the Honeths and the Vordues had no chance to muddy the waters by poisoning each other.
The Horbites proved to be a happy choice. Ran Horb I was competent, but his son, Ran Horb II, was probably the greatest emperor in all Tolnedran history. His achievements were staggering. He brought an end to open warfare in Arendia by allying himself with the weaker faction, the Mimbrates. I don’t think either Polgara or I grieved very much when, in 3822, Vo Astur was destroyed and the Asturians were chased back into the forest. We both still remembered what the Asturians had done to the beautiful city of Vo Wacune.
Ran Horb II moved right on from there. He built an imperial highway, the Great West Road, up through Arendia, linking northern Tolnedra with the port at Camaar and with the entire highway system in Sendaria. He incidentally established that kingdom in 3827, reasoning that, so long as he controlled the highways, it was more efficient to let the Sendars govern themselves. He concluded a treaty with Cho-Dorn the Old, Chief of the clan-chiefs of Algaria, and built the Great North Road that reached from Muros up across northwestern Algaria to the causeway that ran up through the fens to Boktor, where it connected with the North Caravan Route into Gar og Nadrak.
He normalized trade with the Nyissans, and, in the twilight of his life, he concluded a treaty with the Murgos that established the South Caravan Route to Rak Goska.
There was grumbling in Val Alorn about all of this. Ran Horb II clearly saw that as long as the Chereks controlled the seas, Tolnedra would be more or less at their mercy. Ran Horb’s highways bypassed the Chereks. Tolnedrans no longer had to go to sea. They could move their goods overland without ever smelling salt water.
This is not to imply that the highways were all completed during Ran Horb’s lifetime. It took the rest of the Horbite Dynasty to complete that task. During the process, the modern world, the world as we currently know it, gradually began to take shape.
The highways made travel easier, of course, but my gratitude to Ran Horb II stems largely from his almost off-hand creation of the kingdom of Sendaria. The Mrin Codex, and to a lesser degree the Darine, told me quite clearly that I was going to need Sendaria later.
Oddly, when you consider their achievements, the Horbite Dynasty lasted for only one hundred and fifty years. The son of Ran Horb VI was drowned in a boating accident when his father was quite old, so there was no heir to the imperial throne.
Then the ill-fated Ranite family came to power. The Ranites didn’t accomplish anything during their ninety years in power because an hereditary ailment in their line inevitably struck them down in their prime. They went through seven emperors in ninety years, and most of them were sick all the time. In effect, they were nothing more than caretakers.
Then in 4001 the Vorduvians ascended the throne, and, since Tol Vordue is a seaport, they immediately began to let the Horbite highway system fall into disrepair. I’m not sure how many Vorduvian ships will have to be sunk by Cherek war-boats before the Vorduvians begin to come to grips with reality.
I’ve never really cared all that much for the Vorduvians anyway, and that particular idiocy made me throw up my hands in disgust.
There was something nagging at me, though. I seemed to keep remembering a very obscure passage in the Mrin Codex. I went back to my tower and dug out my copy and went looking for it. One of the things that makes the Mrin Codex so difficult lies in the fact that it doesn’t have any continuity. The past and the present and the future are all jumbled together, so it doesn’t read chronologically. There’s no way to know which EVENT is going to come first and which will come next. The scribes who took it all down made no attempt to reset it into anything resembling coherence, so when you go looking for something, you have to start at the beginning and plow your way through the whole incomprehensible mess.
I almost missed it. Maybe if I hadn’t been so disgusted with the Vordues, I would have, but I was thinking about roads when I came across it again.
‘Behold,’ it said, ‘when that which was straight becomes crooked, and that which was sound becomes unsound, it shall be a warning unto thee, Ancient and Beloved.’ That got my immediate attention. The Tolnedran roads were becoming unsound. There were places in Sendaria where they’d turned into deep bogs of soupy mud – and, since they were impassable, people detoured out around them, and the straight was becoming crooked. It stretched things a bit, but I’d become used to that in reading the Mrin. I read on eagerly. ‘Beware,’ it continued, ‘for there is a serpent abroad in the land, and he shall bring the Guardian low.’ That didn’t seem to mean anything at all. Then I took the scroll to the window and peered closely at it in full sunlight. I could faintly make out the fact that one of the scribes had scrubbed out the word ‘she’ and substituted ‘he’ instead. The three scribes had probably argued about it, and the one who’d written down that ‘she’ had probably been overruled. But what if he’d been right? When you talk about a female snake in our part of the world, you’re talking about Salmissra.
I read on. ‘For the Guardian is weighted down with eld, and the serpent will come upon him unawares, and the venom of the serpent shall chill his heart and the hearts of all his issue besides. Hasten, Ancient and Beloved. The life of the last issue of the Guardian’s line lieth in deadly peril. Save him, lest all be lost, and the darkness reign forever.’
I stared at it in horror.
Gorek the Wise, King of Riva and Guardian of the Orb, was a very old man, and the Tolnedran roads were falling apart, and Salmissra had never been the sort you wanted to trust.
I’ll grant you that it was very scanty, but the way those words kept screaming inside my head sent me flying down the steps of my tower four at a time.
I absolutely had to get to the Isle of the Winds immediately.
Chapter 32
I’d begun to form the image of the falcon in my mind before I even hit the foot of the stairs, and as soon as I was outside I started sprouting feathers. Falcons are faster than most other birds, and the screaining inside my head convinced me that speed was essential here. I didn’t like flying; I still don’t; but I’ve done a lot of things I haven’t liked over the years. We do what we have to do, like it or not.
I don’t think it ever occurred to me not to take Polgara along. I knew that she had something very important to do when we reached the Isle of the Winds. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I did know that this would be an absolute catastrophe if she weren’t with me.
I think that perhaps I’ll go to Riva and have a talk with Garion about that
. I’m beginning to develop a theory, and I’d like to check it with him. That peculiar voice has spent much more time with him than it ever did with me, so he’s far more familiar with its quirks than I am. Every now and then, though, I get a strong feeling that I’ve been tampered with. I’ll be plodding along about half-asleep, and then something will happen – and it doesn’t always have to be something out of the ordinary. In fact, it usually isn’t. Most of the time it’s something so commonplace that nobody else even notices it. But when it does happen, something inside my head clicks together, and I’m moving before I’m even aware of it. I suspect that certain things were planted in my brain during that trip Cherek and his boys and I took to Cthol Mishrak. I’m not actually aware of them until that unremarkable incident comes along, and then I immediately know what I’m supposed to do.
All right. I’m digressing. So what?
It didn’t take me very long to reach Poledra’s cottage. It was early spring, but it was already fairly warm, and Polgara was out spading up her kitchen garden. Pol has very fair skin, and she sunburns quite easily. She’d woven herself a ridiculous-looking straw hat to keep the sun off her nose. I probably shouldn’t say it, but it made her look just a bit like a mushroom.
I swooped in, thrust down my talons, and had started to change back before they even touched the ground. ‘I need you, Pol,’ I told her.
‘I needed you once, remember?’ she replied coldly. ‘You didn’t seem very interested. Now I get the chance to return the favor. Go away, father.’
‘We don’t have time for this, Polgara. You can make clever remarks later. Right now, we have to go to the Isle of the Winds. Gorek’s in danger.’
‘Lots of people are in danger, father. It happens all the time.’ She paused. ‘Who’s Gorek?’
‘Have you had your head turned off for all these centuries? Don’t you have any idea at all about what’s going in the world?’
‘My world ended when you let the Asturians destroy Vo Wacune, old man.’
‘No, as a matter of fact, it didn’t. You’re still who you are, and you’re coming with me to the Isle of the Winds even if I have to pick you up in my talons and take you there.’
‘As badly as you fly? Don’t be ridiculous. Who’s this Gorek you’re so worried about?’
‘He’s the Rivan King, Pol, the Guardian of the Orb.’
‘The Chereks are still out there in the Sea of the Winds. They’ll protect him.’
‘You have been out of touch, Pol. The Chereks are letting people get through now.’
‘What? Are you insane? Why did you permit that?’
‘It’s a long story, and we don’t have the leisure to go through it. Don’t waste time with owls this time, Pol. Go to a falcon instead.’
‘Not without a good reason, I won’t.’
I resisted the urge to swear at her. ‘I just dredged the meaning out of a passage in the Mrin. Salmissra’s going to make an attempt on the life of the Rivan King – and his entire family. If she manages to pull it off, Torak wins.’
‘Salmissra? Why didn’t you say so in the first place?’
‘Because you wouldn’t let me.’
‘Let’s move, father!’
‘Hold on for just a moment. I have to warn the twins.’ I concentrated and sent out my thought. ‘Brothers!’ I called to them.
‘Belgarath?’ Beltira replied, sounding a little startled. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘There’s going to be an attempt on the life of the Rivan King. Pol and I are going there right now. We’ll be falcons if you need to reach us. Get word to Beldin. Tell him to get back home right now.’
‘At once, Belgarath. Hurry!’
‘All right, Pol,’ I said then, ‘lef’s go to Riva.’
We both slipped into the forms of those fierce hunting birds, spiraled upward, and then struck out to the northwest across Ulgoland. At one point, a few leagues to the east of Prolgu, we encountered a flock of Harpies. I’ve got a few suspicions about that. I’ve traveled around in Ulgoland quite a few times over the years, and that’s the only time I’ve ever seen Harpies. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to discover that they’d been deliberately put in our path to delay us. Harpies, however, don’t fly all that well – certainly not well enough to catch a pair of streaking falcons. Pol and I simply swooped clear of them and flew on, leaving them floundering around in the air behind us.
The incident’s hardly worth even noting, except that it was a clear indication that somebody out there was doing his best to delay us. I started to keep an eye out for the dragon at that point. That could have been a problem.
We didn’t see her, however, and we managed to reach the western border of Ulgoland without any further incident.
It was growing dark, but Pol and I kept flying. I was hungry and tired, but that urgent voice in my head kept pushing me on. Pol flies better than I do, but I’m sure that our frantic pace was wearing her down almost as much as it was exhausting me. We kept going, however.
The sky behind us was starting to turn pale with the approach of dawn when we passed over Camaar and flew out across the dark waters of the Sea of the Winds.
It must have been almost noon before we saw the Isle of the Winds ahead of us to the west. We began a long, shallow descent, and the harbor at Riva seemed to come rushing up at us as we streaked down toward the city.
We’d nearly killed ourselves getting there, but we still arrived about ten minutes too late.
It was as we were crossing the choppy waters of the harbor when I discovered why Polgara had absolutely had to come along. I didn’t even see the little boy floundering around in the chill waters of the bay, but Pol did. We must have been about thirty feet above the water and streaking in as fast as we could fly when she suddenly flared her wings, and blurred back into her own form in mid-air. She effortlessly arched herself forward and plunged head first down toward the water, her arms stretched above her head. I’ve seen a lot of young men dive headfirst into pools and rivers and even into the sea from time to time – usually to impress young women – but I’ve never seen a dive like that one. She cut into the water like a knife, and it seemed to me that she was down forever. Fortunately, the harbor at Riva is very deep. You don’t want to make that kind of dive unless you’ve got a lot of water under you.
She finally popped to the surface no more than ten feet from the struggling child, and with a few strokes, she had him.
‘YES!’ the previously silent intruder in my head exulted.
‘Oh, shut up!’ I told it.
There was absolute chaos in the commercial enclave on the beach. One glance told me that Gorek and his son and the other members of his family were all dead. The Rivans, of course, were busy butchering a group of Nyissan merchants. I swooped in, flared my wings, and changed. ‘Stop!’ I thundered at the vengeful Rivans.
‘They killed our king!’ A burly fellow screamed at me. Tears were running down his face, and he was clearly hysterical.
‘Don’t you want to find out why?’ I shouted, but I immediately saw that it was useless even to try to talk to him – or to any of the others who’d been there to guard the king. I was exhausted, but I still had a little bit left in me. I drew in my Will and put an impenetrable shield around the last two Nyissans. Then, as an afterthought, I put the pair of them to sleep. I knew Salmissra well enough to realize that her assassins had probably been ordered to kill themselves once their mission had been accomplished. They were armed with poisoned knives, and they undoubtedly had little vials of toxic substances tucked into every pocket.
‘Polgara!’ I sent out my thought. ‘Is the boy all right?’
‘Yes, father. I’ve got him.’
‘Stay out of sight! Don’t let anybody see you!’
‘All right.’
Then Brand came running toward the commercial enclave from the city gate. I’ve never fully understood why the Rivan Warder always takes the name Brand. By the time I got around to asking somebody, the origins o
f the custom had long since been forgotten. In Arendia, where castles are commonplace, the Rivan Warder would have been called a seneschal. In some of the other kingdoms of the west – and even in some of the semi-autonomous kingdoms in Mallorea – he’d have been called the prime minister. His duties were approximately the same, no matter what he was called. He was supposed to handle the administrative details that kept the kingdom running. Like most of the men who’ve held the position, this one was a solid, competent man with a deep sense of loyalty. He was, however, still an Alorn, and the news that Gorek had been murdered made him go all to pieces. His eyes were streaming tears, and he was bellowing with rage. He had his sword out, and he ran at my invisible barrier swinging with all his might. I let him chop at it for a while, and then I took his sword away from him.
Yes, I can do that if I have to. When it’s necessary, I can be the strongest man in the world.
‘Gorek’s dead, Belgarath!’ he sobbed.
‘People die. It happens all the time.’ I said it in a flat unemotional voice.
His head came up sharply, and he stared at me in disbelief.
‘Pull yourself together, Brand,’ I told him. ‘We’ve got things to do. First off: Order your soldiers not to kill those two murderers. I need some answers, and I can’t get answers out of dead men.’
‘But –’
‘These are just hirelings. I want to find out who hired them.’ I already had a fair idea, of course, but I wanted confirmation. More than that, though, I needed to jolt Brand back to his senses.
He drew in a long, shuddering breath. ‘Sorry, Belgarath,’ he said. ‘I guess I lost my head.’
‘That’s better. Tell your men to back away from those two. Then get somebody here you can depend on to follow orders. I want those two reptiles put into a safe place and guarded very closely. As soon as I let them wake up, they’ll try to kill themselves. You’d better strip them. I’m sure they’ve got poison somewhere in their clothes.’
Belgarath the Sorcerer and Polgara the Sorceress Page 47