Polgara the Sorceress

by David Eddings

I decided to let father take the credit for my little countercoup in Vo Mimbre. I’m more interested in results than I am in credit, but my father absolutely adores being the center of attention, so I let him bask – or wallow – in public adulation while I went on back to the northern duchies to hammer down the loose ends of my peace-conference.

  Duke Kathandrion of Wacune and Earl Mangaran of Asturia had already met a few times, and Countess Asrana, her wicked eyes sparkling, assured me that they seemed to be getting along fairly well. ‘They’re as thick as thieves, Polly,’ she said with a little smirk. ‘That Kathandrion’s absolutely gorgeous, isn’t he?’

  ‘Never mind, Asrana,’ I told her. ‘Try to keep your predatory instincts under control. What condition’s Oldoran in?’

  ‘I don’t know about his liver, but his mind’s definitely gone. He’s seeing things that aren’t really there, and he’s raving most of the time. His family’s very upset about that. He’s got some nephews that were eyeing his throne with a great deal of interest, but I don’t think the title’s going to stay in the family. Mangaran’s been demonstrating his capabilities at every turn, and I don’t think any of Oldoran’s nephews are really qualified to replace him. When are we going to convene the peace-conference?’

  ‘Which peace-conference was that, dear?’

  ‘The one you’ve been working on ever since you came to Arendia. Don’t be coy, Polly. I know what you’re up to – and I approve of it. Wars are all very stirring for the men, I suppose, but the lives of the ladies here and in Vo Wacune and Vo Mimbre are very tedious when all the pretty young men are out playing in the woods. Now then, what can I do to help?’

  Our impromptu peace-conference was to be held, as I’d suggested, at the Greàt Arendish Fair, which is technically in Mimbrate territory. This automatically made Corrolin the host. To be quite honest about it, I’d have been happier with Kathandrion at the head of the table, but you can’t always have things the way you’d like them. I’d have Baron Mandorin sitting at Corrolin’s elbow anyway, and I was sure he could keep his duke from making too many mistakes. I left Vo Astur and went on across the border into Wacune. I wanted to talk with Kathandrion before our conference convened.

  ‘We’re going to have to be careful, my Lord,’ I told my Wacite friend when I finally got him alone. ‘There are hot-heads in all three duchies, and a chance remark at the wrong time could make this all fly apart on us without any warning. I’ll be talking to the assembled notables from time to time, and I’m going to keep hammering on the fact that as long as any one of the Arendish dukes has regal ambitions, Arendia’s going to be vulnerable to Murgo plotting. There might be an undisputed crown of all Arendia someday, but not right now. I think that the best we can hope for at this particular time is an agreement between you, Mangaran, and Corrolin that there isn’t an Arendish crown, and there’s no point to killing half the population in order to cram a fiction on somebody’s head.’

  ‘It seemeth me that some unspoken rebuke doth hover over that last remark, my Lady,’ my handsome friend noted.

  ‘Look upon it as a cautionary word, your Grace. I shall not rebuke thee until thine opinion of thyself doth grow too exalted. Look with profound distrust upon any man who pretends to offer thee a pathway to a non-existent crown. Now, then, I don’t think that lasting peace is going to grow out of one meeting, so I’m going to suggest that we follow an Alorn example here in Arendia. The Alorn kings meet periodically on the Isle of the Winds for discussions of matters of mutual concern. I think we might want to give that notion some consideration here as well. If the three Arendish dukes meet every summer, they’ll be able to deal with any frictions that might have arisen during the past year. Let’s not give any imagined insults time to fester.’

  ‘I shall strive to mine utmost to make this come to pass, my Lady.’

  Then I flew on back to Vo Astur to wheedle a similar agreement out of Mangaran and Asrana. In point of fact, I spent several months on the wing in the skies over Arendia. It’s not a bad idea when you’re dealing with Arends to get agreements on everything before you gather them around the conference table. I kept my agenda simple for this first little get-together, limiting our discussions to two or three crucial points. If I could make this gathering an annual event, there’d be plenty of time at later meetings to expand peaceful contacts.

  It was mid-autumn by the time we all gathered in the garishly striped royal pavilion Corrolin had ordered to be set up on the outskirts of the fair, and each ruler rose in turn to address an assembly comprised of assorted state functionaries and by observers from Tolnedra and from the Alorn kingdoms. Corrolin, as host, spoke first. He formally greeted the other two rulers and the emissaries from foreign lands, noting in passing that Salmissra had declined the opportunity to send an observer. He then spent about a half-hour saying nice things about me. I found that part of his speech fairly interesting.

  After Corrolin had exhausted his vocabulary, Kathandrion rose and also waxed extravagant in his praise of me. I liked that speech too. Then Mangaran stood up and demonstrated the fact that the Asturians had not totally forgotten how to thee, thou, and what-not. The shrewd old earl concluded his remarks with a little surprise, however. ‘Nobles all,’ he said with a faint smile. ‘This gathering here on the plain of our mournful Arendia hath as its ultimate goal a lasting peace. For many, this will seem unnatural, and for others, perhaps even impious. Peace is an alien concept in Arendia, and the fact that our meeting hath lasted for quite nearly an entire afternoon with not a single drop of blood spilled may cause outrage in some quarters. Since we are flying into the very teeth of convention, let us further shock that stuffy old grand dame with yet another violation of her conception of how things ought to be done. Ladies, as all the world doth know, are creatures of delight, more beauteous, more genteel, more tender than are we, and it is the sworn duty of every right-thinking nobleman in all the world to protect and serve them. It is also known, however, that their minds are not the equal of ours. Our fulsome and most deservéd praise of Lady Polgara this day hath encouraged me to investigate a shocking possibility. Could it be that great Chaldan hath, in fact, given women brains? Is this possible? Then, emboldened by the fact that a divine thunderbolt had not as yet incinerated me, I pushed this heretical concept even further out into unexplored territory. It is well known, I think, that Duke Oldoran hath recently been removed from his throne and ensconced in a monastery to rave and scream out the remainder of his life. It is also widely bruited about that I was responsible for his removal. I will openly confess that this is true, but it would not have happened had it not been for the assistance of two – not one, but two – ladies. The one, of course, was Lady Polgara. I’m sure that surprises no one here. What is not so widely known, however, is the fact that a high-born lady in Vo Astur was also involved – all the way up to her pretty eyebrows. Moreover, she has advised me in most matters since I seized control of the government of the duchy of Asturia. The need for total openness at this conference impels me to reveal this and to introduce the lady who rules at my side. Nobles all, may I present the Countess Asrana, a conspiratoress without peer.’

  There was some faint applause, which gradually grew less faint, swelling finally into an ovation.

  ‘I’ll get you for this, Mangaran,’ Asrana said, rising to her feet.

  ‘Promise?’ he asked slyly.”

  Asrana struck a tragic pose. ‘And now is my dreadful secret revealed,’ she declared. ‘How can anyone possibly forgive me? Truly, gentlemen, it was not my fault. Polgara made me do it. It’s all her fault.’ She sighed a long, quivering theatrical sigh. ‘I am exposéd now, so I guess we might as well get on with this. This unnatural gathering has been convened to explore the possibility of peace. – Isn’t that awful? How can we live without enemies? We have to hate someone!’ She paused, then snapped her fingers. ‘I have it, my Lords! I have the solution! Let’s hate Murgos instead of each other! Murgos are hideous, and Arends are the most beautiful pe
ople in the world. Murgos are dishonorable, and Arends are all nauseatingly saturated with honor. Murgos are unmannerly, and Arendish courtesy is the despair of the known world. Let us join hands, nobles all, and pledge upon our sacred honor to hate the eyebrows off every Murgo we meet.’

  They were all laughing by now, and pounding on the table with delight. The Countess Asrana had neatly rolled them all up into a little ball and put them in her pocket.

  ‘I do confess that I like this charming young lady, your Grace!’ I heard Mandorin say to his duke. ‘She is utterly delightful.’

  I just happened to be watching Asrana’s face when he said that about her, and her look became just a trifle smug. Then, without so much as changing expression, she winked at me. She’d obviously overheard Mandolin’s remark, and it was also obvious that she felt that she’d just won something.

  There was a banquet that evening, and Baron Mandorin managed to find a seat next to Asrana’s where she promptly did war upon him. Her cavalry charges were outrageously winsome remarks and observations. Her siege engine of choice was a low-cut gown that went just a bit beyond the bounds of propriety. Baron Mandorin didn’t quite sue for peace that evening, but he came very close.

  The Countess shared my quarters, and I waited up for her. ‘Why Mandorin?’ I asked her bluntly when she came in.

  ‘I didn’t quite follow that, Polly.’

  ‘Why are you setting your cap for Baron Mandorin? There are others here who are prettier, and he’s quite a bit older than you are.’

  ‘So much the better,’ she replied, letting her hair down and shaking it out. ‘With Mandorin, I won’t have to endure all those calf-eyed looks and the reams of misspelled bad poetry. Mandolin’s very close to the center of power in Mimbre, and I’ve got a similar position in Asturia. You’ll be managing things in Wacune, so among the three of us, we ought to be able to keep everybody in line – long enough for peace to become a habit, at least.’ Then she gave me a wicked sidelong glance. ‘I hate to say it, Polly, but I’m going to have more fun than you are.’

  ‘Are you doing this out of patriotism, Asrana?’ I asked incredulously.

  ‘You can call it that if you wish, but down at the bottom, power excites me – and the three of us are going to have almost all the power there is in poor old Arendia. You can’t ask for much more than that.’

  ‘What about love, Asrana?’

  She shrugged. ‘What about it? Love’s for children, Polgara. It’s a plaything I’ve outgrown. I like Mandorin. He’s handsome and unspeakably noble. The years will erode his handsomeness, and I’ll erode his nobility. We’ll do some fairly unpopular things, I’m afraid, but Arendia’s going to be better for it. If that makes me a patriot, so be it. Watch me very closely, Polly. I might even be able to teach you some tricks.’

  By mid-morning of the next day, even the densest Arend in Duke Corrolin’s pavilion was aware of the fact that something was ‘going on’ between our unscrupulous countess and Baron Mandorin, and I think that was also included in Asrana’s plan. I don’t think that even Ce’Nedra could ever be as duplicitous as Asrana was. By the end of that day, poor Baron Mandorin was completely in her thrall. He watched her every move and hung on her every word – since Asrana spoke frequently at our deliberations. Here was a young lady who could play two games at the same time – and both of them very well.

  On the fourth day, the leaders of Mimbre, Asturia, and Wacune signed the ‘instrument of peace’, and immediately thereafter Duke Corrolin rose and invited everybody to stay for the wedding. Countess Asrana could move very fast when it suited her.

  Once again I found myself pressed into service as a bridesmaid, and all went smoothly. Asrana and Mandorin were married with not so much as an earthquake or tidal wave to alert poor Arendia to a dangerous new force that had come into being right at her very heart.

  Part Four:

  Ontrose

  Chapter 17

  I hate to admit this, but when you get right down to the core of things, my father and I are very much alike. We both know that our primary business will always be study and the slow accumulation of knowledge. Interruptions crop up from time to time, though, and we’ll both assume surly expressions when someone comes rushing into the Vale begging us to go out and save the world. Would you be at all surprised if I told you that our apparent grouchiness is only a sham? To be completely honest about it, we enjoy putting out these little brush-fires almost as much as we’d enjoy discovering just exactly why two and two makes four.

  When I’d spent those years on the Isle of the Winds, I’d been at the very center of things, and I’d found that to be engrossing. Then, when I’d been called away again to deal with Ctuchik’s scheme in Arendia, I’d enjoyed that just as much. Like my father, I’ll always be happy to lay my book aside when the fire-bell rings.

  Given the tentative nature of the peace father and I had crammed down the throats of assorted Arends, it was fairly obvious that I was going to have to stay in Arendia to make sure that it stayed crammed. And so it was that in the spring of the year 2313 I returned briefly to father’s tower to pick up a few things I might need. I suppose I could have just willed what I needed into existence, but they wouldn’t have been the same, for some reason.

  Father had returned to the Vale during the previous winter, and when I reached his tower, he called the twins over, and the four of us got down to cases. ‘I’d rather hoped to see uncle Beldin,’ I said.

  ‘He’s still off in Mallorea, Pol,’ Belkira said. ‘What’s happening in Arendia?’

  ‘What’s always happening in Arendia?’ Beltira snorted.

  ‘Pol took steps,’ father told them. “There’s this unnatural silence hovering over Arendia right now. I think it’s referred to as peace.’

  ‘I don’t know that I’d go quite that far, father,’ I disagreed, getting up to check the ham I was baking for supper. ‘Ctuchik had things fairly well stirred up, and the Arends were having a lot of fun with his little fires. Now that we’ve doused them with cold water, the Arends are at a loss for excuses to slaughter each other. I wouldn’t really call it peace yet, though. They’re sitting around waiting for somebody to come up with new reasons to go to war.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll find something,’ he said sourly.

  ‘That’s why I’m going back,’ I told them. ‘I want to make it very obvious to the Arends that if they don’t behave themselves, I’ll spank them.’

  They aren’t actually children, Pol,’ Belkira objected.

  ‘Oh, really? You haven’t been there lately, uncle. Arends are a very charming people, but a lot of that charm lies in the fact that they’ve never grown up.’

  ‘Are you going to settle in one place, Pol?’ Beltira asked, ‘or were you planning to be a traveling fire-brigade?’

  ‘I’ve had invitations from all three of the rulers in Arendia, uncle, but I think I’ll set up operations in Vo Wacune. It’s far more attractive than Vo Astur or Vo Mimbre, and Duke Kathandrion shows a few flickers of intelligence. At least he can see beyond his own borders. I don’t think Mangaran or Corrolin can yet. I’ll probably have to rush about quite a bit until peace gets to be a habit, but it’s always nice to have a place to call home.’ Then I thought of something the twins ought to know about. ‘Ctuchik’s come up with a way to disguise his agents,’ I told them. There’s a quasi-religious order headquartered in the Great Desert of Araga off to the southeast of Nyissa. They’re called the Dagashi, and they’re half-breed Murgos. Their mothers – and probably grandmothers as well – are slave women from other races. The Dagashi are bred down to the point that they don’t have Angarak features, and they’re trained as spies and assassins. Don’t automatically assume that just because somebody doesn’t look like an Angarak, it means that he isn’t one.’

  ‘That could be fairly troublesome,’ Beltira said, frowning.

  ‘It already has been several times,’ I said. ‘I thought we all ought to know about that. Oh, there’s something e
lse as well. Evidently the Murgos have discovered gold in their mountains. They’re very free with their bribes now. I think there are iron deposits near their mines, because Murgo gold always has a reddish tinge to it. That might help us to identify somebody who’s been bribed.’ I leaned back in my chair. ‘Ctuchik’s getting very much involved in things here in the west,’ I mused. “That might just mean that Torak’s getting ready to come out of seclusion at Ashaba, or it might mean something else. I’ll try to keep a lid on things in Arendia, but you gentlemen are going to have to stand watch over the other kingdoms.’

  ‘Thanks,’ father said sourly.

  ‘Don’t mention it.’ I smiled sweetly at him.

  Then the following morning, I packed up the things I wanted and left for Vo Wacune.

  It was late spring or early summer of that year when I returned to the fairy-tale city in the Arendish forest. Kathandrion insisted that I live in the palace, and now that I had some leisure, I was able to take a bit of time to get to know a wider circle of people in the Wacite court. Kathandrion’s wife was named Elisera, and she was an ethereal lady with reddish blonde hair who spent most of her time reading interminably long Arendish epics and overwrought love poetry. Her reading habits may have distorted her view of reality just a bit. She took me around to the various lords and ladies of the court, and even in the face of my protests, she insisted on introducing me as ‘Polgara the Sorceress’. Despite her shortcomings, I liked her. I also liked Crown Prince Alleran, her son. Alleran was a sturdy little boy of about ten who had a very unArendish streak of good sense in him. Unfortunately, his parents were doing their very best to educate that trait out of him before he reached maturity.

  I hadn’t really wanted to take up residence in the ducal palace, but Kathandrion wouldn’t hear of my lodging anywhere else, and so I had to put up with certain inconveniences which were made all the worse by Elisera’s quaint introductions that stressed something I’d rather she’d glossed over. There’s a great deal of nonsense abroad that concerns words like ‘magic’, ‘sorcery’, ‘witchcraft’, and the like, and most people simply lump all those designations together and assume that those of us who are talented in the field can perform any feat that’s grown out of the fevered imaginations of various poets bent on outdoing the competition. All the young – and not so young – ladies-in-waiting at Kathandrion’s court were fascinated by the idea of love potions, as I recall. No matter how patiently I explained the impossibility of such a concoction, I was still approached by teary-eyed hopefuls who were absolutely positive that there was a simple chemical answer to their most pressing problem. Most of them seemed very unhappy with my answer, but I’d no sooner sent one suppliant away with a pout on her face when another approached me, usually in private, with the teary assertion that she’d absolutely die if Baron so-and-so didn’t immediately fall madly in love with her.