Polgara the Sorceress

by David Eddings

  There was another problem as well, although I rather doubt that Ce’Nedra would see it as a problem. Duke Kathandrion casually advised me that he, Mangaran, and Corrolin had agreed that I should receive an annual stipend ‘for services rendered’, and they each dutifully set aside an absurd amount of gold for my use. No matter how much I protested that I didn’t need money, I couldn’t seem to get my point across. I thought that I might raise the issue when we all gathered for our annual meeting that summer at the Great Arendish Fair, but when I got there and talked with Asrana, the Baroness of Vo Mandor, she pointed a few things out to me. ‘Just take the money, Polly,’ she advised. ‘You’ll hurt their feelings if you don’t, and what’s more important, you’ll lower your status if you start giving your services away free. If they don’t pay for those services, they won’t value them. In time, they’ll start treating you as if you were a servant, and I don’t think you’d like that. Smile and take the money.’

  ‘What am I going to do with it?’ I demanded. ‘They’re giving me far too much, and all it’s going to do is pile up until it starts to become a nuisance.’

  ‘Buy something with it – an estate somewhere, or a house in town.’

  Now there was an idea that hadn’t even occurred to me. At least if I had my own house, I could get away from the weepy-eyed girls seeking love potions to entrap vacanteyed young men who hadn’t yet realized that boys and girls are different from each other. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea, and so I broached the subject to Kathandrion as we rode on back to Vo Wacune after the meeting.

  ‘Art thou discontented with the lodgings I have provided thee, my Lady?’ he asked, sounding a bit hurt.

  ‘The quarters, I do assure thee, my Lord, are exquisite. It is their location which doth stand at the core of my dissatisfaction. So long as I am within the confines of thy palace, I am at the mercy of those who yearn to achieve certain goals without exerting themselves.’ I told him about that steady procession of young ladies who hungered and thirsted for unearned love and about others, no less parched and starved, who longed for mystic assistance in business dealings, intercession with the dice-cup, interference in the outcome of jousting matches, and other absurdities.

  ‘I shall forbid them entry into the wing of my palace wherein thou art housed,’ he suggested.

  ‘Kathandrion,’ I said to him patiently, ‘you can forbid to your heart’s content, and all they’ll do is ignore you. We’re dealing with obsessions here. These people all believe that they deserve the things they’re yearning for and that I’ve been commanded by the Gods to come to Vo Wacune for no other reason than to arrange matters so that they get them. Nothing short of physical violence will keep them away from my door as long as I’m in the palace. That’s why I’m going to need a house of my own – with a fence and a locked gate. It’s the only way I’ll get any sleep. I’m sure there are houses for sale in Vo Wacune. Could I prevail upon you to ask around for me and see if you can find something suitable? Don’t evict anybody or anything like that, but find me a place where I can hide. If I hear any more about love potions, I think I’ll scream.’

  ‘I had not realized that the nobles at court had been so cruelly imposing upon thee, my Lady Polgara. I shall let it be known discreetly that thou art in search of a more permanent habitation.’

  ‘I’d appreciate that, my Lord.’

  ‘Would it really work?’ he asked curiously, slipping out of ‘high style’.

  ‘Which was that, my Lord?’

  ‘A love potion. Can you actually mix something up that would make somebody fall in love?’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ I sighed. ‘Not you, too. No, Kathandrion. There’s absolutely nothing that’d have that effect. There are some herbs out of Nyissa that’ll arouse lust, but nothing in all the world that’ll awaken love. I know that love potions play a large part in Arendish epics, but in real life, there’s no such thing. It’s a literary device and nothing more.’

  ‘Ah,’ he sighed. ‘How painful it is to have one’s illusions shattered.’

  ‘I think that one missed me,’ I confessed.

  ‘My favorite epic tragedy doth hinge upon this literary convention thou hast described. I fear me that I will never again be able to read its stately lines with any degree of satisfaction. I will sorely lament its loss.’

  ‘It looks as if I’ve got further to go than I thought,’ I half-muttered.

  ‘What sayest thou, my Lady?’

  ‘Nothing, Kathandrion.’ I laughed and laid a fond hand on his wrist.

  The house I ultimately purchased was not far from the palace. It was quite large, but very reasonably priced – largely because a generation or so of neglect had caused it to fall into such disrepair as to make it almost uninhabitable. I could have taken care of that myself, I suppose, but to do it that way would have merely spread the infection which was driving me out of the palace. My first step in the renovation of my house, therefore, involved the hiring of workmen to patch the roof, shore up the foundations, replace the broken glass, chase out the birds and squirrels who’d taken up residence inside, and to dismantle the brewery an enterprising tavern-owner had set up in the basement without bothering to take out a lease on the premises. I soon discovered that day-laborers in Vo Wacune came in three grades: bad, worse, and awful.

  I stopped by one morning to see how things were progressing, and I found that they weren’t. My workmen were nowhere in sight, and nothing had been done since my last visit. There were still holes in the roof you could throw a cat through, none of the rotting floor-boards had been replaced, and not even one pane of glass had been set into the window-frames. I stalked through the echoing ruin testing the outer limits of uncle Beldin’s vocabulary.

  ‘Tis a rare thing t’ find a lady so gifted with th’ language,’ someone behind me said in a thick Wacite brogue.

  I spun around and saw a sturdy fellow with his face framed by a fringe of red beard leaning against my doorframe casually paring his fingernails with an evil-looking dirk. ‘Who are you?’ I demanded, ‘and what are you doing here?’

  ‘Th’ name’s Killane, Lady-O, an’ yer unspeakable eloquence has drawn me here as bees are drawn t’ honey, don’t y’ know. What seems t’ be th’ problem?’

  ‘This is the problem!’ I burst out, waving my arms at the shambles around me. ‘Last week I hired some men to clean up this mess. They took my money quickly enough, but they seem to have forgotten where the house is.’

  ‘Y’ paid them in advance?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Wherever were yer brains, Lady-O? Y’ never want t’ do that. Th’ pay comes after th’ work’s done, not before.’

  ‘I didn’t know that,’ I confessed.

  ‘Oh, dearie, dearie me!’ he sighed.’ ‘Tis a poor lost lamb y’ are, darlin’ girl. Did y’ happen t’git th’ names of these lazy boy-os?’

  ‘I think the one who did all the talking was named Skelt,’ I replied in a half-ashamed voice. How could I have been so gullible?

  ‘Ah, that one,’ Killane said. ‘He’s almost as dependable as th’ spring weather. I’ll run him down fery’, Lady-O. There’s little hope that he or his lazy relatives have any of yer money left, but I’ll make ‘em come back here an’ work off what they owe.’

  ‘Why?’ I swung immediately from extreme gullibility to extreme suspicion.

  ‘Because y’ need a keeper, lass,’ he told me bluntly. ‘Now, this is th’ way we’re goin’ t’ do it. I’ll round up Skelt an’ his worthless crew, an’ I’ll beat th’ work they owe y’ out of ‘em. If, after a week, things ain’t t’ yer satisfaction, we kin part friends, an’ no regrets. But if y’ like me way o’ doin’ things, we kin discuss somethin’ more permanent.’

  I probably should have been offended by the way he just walked into my life and took charge, but I wasn’t. Quite obviously, he was right. In this particular sphere of human activity, I was indeed a ‘poor lost lamb’. We talked for a bit longer, and Killane modestly confessed to being �
��th’ best builder in all Arendia, don’t y’ know’. Then we went through the house and I told him what I wanted. He agreed with most of my ideas, and pointed out the flaws in the notions with which he disagreed. Then, once our survey had been completed, he passed judgement. He rather fondly patted one of the walls. ‘She’s still a sound old dear, though she’s been sorely neglected. We kin have her back in shape in jig time.’ Then he looked at me rather sternly. ‘Let me tell y’ right at th’ outset, Lady-O, I’ll not be after cuttin’ no corners, so this is goin’ t’ bite yer purse a wee bit. But y’ll be after livin’ here fer a long time, an’ I’ll not be puttin’ meself t’ shame by havin’ th’ old dear fallin’ down about yer ears a few years hence. Y’ll be havin’ notions that just won’t work, an’ I’ll be after tellin’ y’ right t’ yer face that yer bein’ silly. Yer a spirited lady, I’ve noticed, so we’ll scream at each other from time t’ time, but when it’s all done, y’ll have a house y’ kin be proud t’ live in.’

  ‘That’s all I really want, Killane,’ I told him.

  ‘Then it’s settled. Y’ kin go back t’ yer embroidery now, Lady-O. Just leave th’ old dear t’ me. I’ll fix her.’

  I’ve known very few men who’ve had such straightforward honesty, and I liked Killane right from the outset. As a matter of fact, I was so impressed by him that I ultimately married a man who could have been his brother.

  I stopped by my house a few times while it was being renovated. Skelt and his assorted cousins, brothers, and what-not were a sullen group now, but most of the cuts and bruises had healed. Killane drove them unmercifully, and the work was progressing, though far too slowly to suit me. I really wanted to get out of that palace. It was more to get away – and to avoid nagging Killane – that I rode on down to Vo Mandor that autumn to pay a call on Asrana and Mandorin. That odd marriage seemed to be working far better than any of us could possibly have had reason to believe that it might. Mandorin was absolutely enthralled by the mischievous Asrana, and his expression of vapid adoration had the peculiar effect of curbing some of her more outrageous pranks. Their marital bliss, however, failed to dull their political acumen, and they were generally successful in keeping the Mimbrates and Asturians from each other’s throats.

  It began to get a bit cloying after a while, so I went on down to Vo Mimbre to look in on Duke Corrolin. There were Tolnedran merchants in Vo Mimbre, naturally, since Tolnedra lay just across the river, but a bit of careful probing verified the fact that they really were Tolnedrans instead of Dagashi. Evidently the nose-bleed I’d given Ctuchik had persuaded him to pull in his horns.

  Then, just to avoid any seeming favoritism, I rode on north to visit Mangaran in Vo Astur. There were some problems there, but I saw no evidence that they were of Murgo origin. The removal of Oldoran from the seat of power had mightily offended his family, who for some generations had looked upon all of Asturia as a private estate. For the most part, Oldoran’s relatives were incompetents who satisfied their urges toward belligerence by denouncing Mangaran in highly unflattering terms. One nephew, however, a scruffy, uncouth young man named Nerasin, had actually gone beyond denunciation and was busily forming alliances in preparation for the day when the elderly Mangaran should die and the Asturian throne would fall into the hands of whoever was nimble enough to seize it. I had the strong feeling that Nerasin would have to be dealt with eventually, but for right now, Mangaran’s grip on power was firm enough to keep the young troublemaker in line.

  I visited with Mangaran for a week or so, and then I went on back to Vo Wacune to see how Killane was coming with the renovations. It was autumn by now, and, though the Arendish forest consisted largely of evergreens, there were enough groves of maple, birch, and aspen to add vivid reds, yellows, and pale oranges to the vast wood, and there was that faintly dusty smell of autumn in the air. I found that to be absolutely lovely, and I didn’t really hurry as I rode east. I reached the city of Vo Wacune about mid-afternoon on a lovely autumn day, passed through the ornate city gates, and rode directly to the quiet, tree-lined street where my house stood. I noted with some satisfaction that Killane and his work-gang had repaired the marble wall which surrounded the house and that the rust-riddled old iron gate had been replaced with a new one, far more imposing and ornate.

  One of the attractions of my house was the fairly extensive grounds surrounding it. At one time there had been gardens there, but when I’d bought the property, those gardens had long since been taken over by weeds. I was a bit startled when I rode through the gate. The weeds were gone, and the ancient hedges were are neatly trimmed. Killane himself was over near the side of the house spading up one of the flower-beds. He looked up as I dismounted. ‘Well, now, there y’ are, lass,’ he greeted me. ‘I was about t’ send out search parties t’ find y’, don’t y’ know.’

  ‘Gardening, Killane?’ I said. ‘You’re a man of many talents, aren’t you? How’s the house coming?’

  ‘She’s all finished, Lady-O,’ he replied rather proudly, ‘an’ she came out better than we might have expected. I’ve been just passin’ th’ time until yer return by gettin’ yer flower-beds in order fer th’ plantin’ next spring. I took th’ liberty o’ bringin’ in a crew o’ cleanin’ ladies t’ polish things up inside. Would y’ be after wantin’ t’ have a bit of a look-see?’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

  ‘I’m hopin’ that what we’ve done t’ th’ old girl satisfies y’ enough t’ smooth over th’ jolt yer goin’ t’ get when I hand over all th’ bills. I haggled ‘em down as best I was able, but th’ total’s just a wee bit alarmin’.’

  ‘I think I can manage it, Killane,’ I assured him. ‘Let’s go look at my house.’

  The newly renovated house far exceeded all my expectations. The rooms – even in the servants’ quarters – were spacious, and the bathrooms were large and well-appointed. The walls, which had looked more than a little scabby, had been freshly plastered. The floors, both wood and marble, gleamed. There was a solid, comfortable quality about it, and the high marble wall surrounding it and the trees and hedges in the garden muffled any noises coming in from the street to give the entire place an air of seclusion and peace.

  ‘It’s perfect!’ I exclaimed to my Wacite friend.

  ‘Well, I don’t know that I’d go that far, Lady-O,’ Killane replied modestly. ‘I did what I could w’ th’ old dear, but there are some nooks an’ crannies that I’d have designed differently, don’t y’ know.’

  I’d more or less decided on something during my travels, but I wasn’t certain how to broach the subject to Killane. Finally, I just blurted it out. ‘We get along with each other fairly well, don’t we, Killane?’ I asked him directly.

  ‘Yer a reasonable sort of employer – fer a woman – an’ y’ seldom ask th’ impossible. I kin more or less stand bein’ around y’.’

  ‘Don’t strain yourself trying to flatter me, Killane.’

  He laughed. ‘Come t’ th’ point, Lady-O,’ he told me. ‘Don’t beat around th’ bush.’

  ‘How would you like to work for me?’ I put it to him.

  ‘I thought I was.’

  ‘I don’t mean just fixing up the house. I mean permanently. This is quite a large house. I can take care of it myself, if I have to, but there’ll be times when I’ll have to be away for extended periods, and I’d rather not have the house fall back into the condition she was in when I first saw her. To get right to the point, I need somebody to manage the place for me. Would you be interested?’

  ‘I’m no servant, Lady-O. Me manners ain’t always too polished, don’t y’ know.’

  ‘You haven’t managed to offend me yet.’

  ‘Give me some time, Lady-O. We’ve only hardly just met.’

  ‘Would you consider it?’

  ‘I guess we kin try it fer a year or so, me Lady.’

  ‘Why so formal, Killane?’

  ‘It ain’t hardly proper fer me t’ be callin’ me employer “Lady-O”,’ he re
plied.

  ‘I don’t mind in the slightest, Killane.’ I looked around. Now that all the clutter and debris had been removed, the house was almost alarmingly large. ‘We’re probably going to need servants, aren’t we?’ I suggested a bit tentatively.

  ‘That we are, Lady-O,’ he said, grinning. ‘I ain’t exactly th’ world’s greatest w’ a mop or a broom, an’ me cookin’ leaves worlds to be desired.’

  I laughed, fondly laying one hand on his wrist. ‘You’re the one who’ll be in charge of them, Killane, so hire some people you can get along with.’

  He bowed with a surprising grace. ‘As y’ wish, Lady-O. I’ll be after bringin’ in a wagon first thing in th’ mornin’.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Did y’ plan to’ sleep on th’ floor? A bit o’ furniture might be in order, wouldn’t y’ say?’ Then he pulled a bundle of paper out of his tunic pocket. ‘Now, then, shall we git down t’ th’ unpleasant business o’ all these bills?’ he suggested.

  It took Killane and me a couple of weeks to shop around and buy furniture, drapes, carpeting, and assorted decorations to break up the starkness of those bare white walls. And then the servants – mostly Killane’s relatives – began to arrive. Nepotism offends some people, but my own peculiar situation made it seem the most natural thing in the world. It took us all a while to get used to each other, and it took me even longer to get used to being waited upon hand and foot. About the only really serious problem I had was with my cook, one of Killane’s numerous cousins, who really didn’t like the way I frequently invaded her kitchen to either lend a hand or make suggestions. In time we worked that out, and all in all, I was happy and content.