Polgara the Sorceress

by David Eddings

  We were crossing the harbor at Riva, and my eyes were fixed on the grim battlements of the Hall of the Rivan King when mother’s voice cracked sharply in my mind. ‘Pol! Down there – in the harbor!’

  I looked down and saw something splashing quite a ways out from the gravel beach.

  ‘It’s a little boy, Pol. Don’t let him drown!’

  I didn’t even think. Changing form in midair isn’t really a good idea. For a moment as you blur from one form to the other you’re totally disoriented, but as luck had it I was still looking at the water after I’d shed my feathers. I arched forward and plunged down, tensing my body for the shock of impact with the surface of the harbor. The jolt would have been much worse had I been higher, but it still quite nearly knocked the wind out of me.

  My dive took me deep down into the bone-chilling water, but I arched myself and shot toward the surface, coming up into the light and air only a few feet from the floundering little boy whose eyes were filled with terror and whose flailing arms were barely keeping him afloat.

  A few strokes brought me to his side, and then I had him. ‘Relax!’ I told him sharply. ‘I’ve got you now.’

  ‘I’m drowning!’ he spluttered, his voice shrill.

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re safe, so stop waving your arms around. Just lay back and let me do the swimming.’

  It took a little persuading to unlock the death grip of his arms around my neck, but I eventually got him calmed down and lying on his back while I towed him toward the end of one of the wharves jutting out into the bay. ‘See how much easier it is when you don’t fight the water?’ I asked him.

  ‘I almost had the knack of it,’ he assured me. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever tried to swim. It’s not too hard, is it?’

  ‘You should probably practice in shallower water,’ I suggested.

  ‘I really couldn’t, ma’am. There was this man with a knife after me.’

  ‘Polgara!’ father’s voice came to me. ‘Is the boy all right?’

  ‘Yes, father,’ I replied out loud, not even realizing that my voice was audible to the little boy. ‘I’ve got him.’

  ‘Stay out of sight! Don’t let anybody see you!’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Who were you talking to?’ the boy asked.

  ‘It’s not important.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To the end of that wharf. We’ll hide there and keep very quiet until the men with the knives have been driven off.’

  ‘All right. Is the water always this cold?’

  ‘It was the last time I was here.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before, ma’am.’

  ‘No. We only just met.’

  ‘That would explain it then.’ He was such a matter of fact little fellow. I liked him immediately.

  ‘It’s probably best not to talk quite so much,’ I told him. ‘Gulping in a gallon or so of water right now wouldn’t be good for you.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  We reached the end of the stone wharf, and both of us grabbed hold of a rusty iron ring to which ships were usually tied.

  ‘What happened back there?’ I asked him.

  ‘My grandfather took us all down to the shops on the beach,’ the little boy replied. ‘Somebody there wanted to give us some presents. When we got to their shop, though, they all pulled out their knives. I’ll bet they’ll be sorry they did that. My grandfather’s the king here, and he’ll be very angry with them about that. I’m really cold, ma’am. Can’t we get out of the water?’

  ‘Not yet, I’m afraid. We want to be sure it’s safe before we do that.’

  ‘Do you come here to the Isle very often?’ His calm way of talking reassured me just a bit. Evidently the assassination attempt had failed.

  ‘What happened back there on the beach?’ I asked him.

  ‘I’m not really sure, ma’am,’ he replied. ‘Mother told me to run just as soon as the fellow with all his hair shaved off pulled out his knife. He was between me and the city gate, so the only place left to go was out here in the water. Swimming’s a little harder than it looks, isn’t it?’

  ‘It takes some practice, that’s all.’

  ‘I didn’t have much time for practice. Would it be polite for me to ask what your name is?’

  ‘I’m known as Polgara,’ I told him.

  ‘I’ve heard of you. Aren’t you related to me?’

  ‘Distantly, yes. You might say that I’m your aunt. And what’s your name?’

  ‘I’m Geran. They call me “Prince Geran”, but I don’t think that means very much. My oldest brother’s the one who’s going to get to wear the crown when he grows up. I’ve been thinking about being a pirate when I grow up. That’d be pretty exciting, don’t you think so, Aunt Pol?’

  There it was again. I sometimes think that every little boy in the world automatically calls me ‘Aunt Pol’. I smiled at him. ‘I’d have a talk with my parents – and my grandfather – before I decided on piracy as a career, Geran,’ I suggested. ‘They might have a few objections.’

  He sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right, Aunt Pol, but it would be exciting, wouldn’t it.’

  ‘I think it’s over-rated.’

  We clung to that rusty iron ring at the end of the wharf, shivering in the cold. I did what I could to warm the water in which we were immersed, but nobody could heat the entire Sea of the Winds, so about all I could do was to take the edge off the chill.

  After an hour or so – which seemed like an eternity – father’s voice came to me again. ‘Polgara, where are you?’

  ‘We’re at the end of the wharf, father. Is it safe to come out yet?’

  ‘No. Stay where you are, and keep out of sight.’

  ‘What are you up to, Old Wolf?’

  ‘I’m hiding the Rivan King. Get used to it, Pol, because we’ll be doing it for quite a long time.’

  The significance of his reference to the shivering little boy at my side was not lost on me. Clearly, Salmissra’s assassins had succeeded in butchering King Gorek and almost all the members of the royal family. Geran’s flight from the scene had spared him the horror of witnessing the disaster, and so he didn’t seem to know that he was now an orphan. He’d have to be told, of course, and I knew exactly upon whose shoulders that unpleasant task would fall.

  It was well after dark when father and Brand, the Rivan Warder, finally came down to the harbor. The four of us, father, Brand, Prince Geran and I, boarded an unoccupied ship and sailed out into the harbor with father manning the sails, without even bothering to rise from the bench upon which he sat. I took the shivering little prince belowdecks, dried him off and created some dry clothes for him.

  Then I went back up on deck to have a word with father. ‘There were no other survivors, I gather?’ I asked him.

  ‘Not a one. The Nyissans were using poisoned daggers.’

  ‘The boy doesn’t know. He ran away before the killing started.’

  ‘Good. Those Nyissans were very efficient.’

  Then it was Salmissra who was behind it.’

  ‘Yes, but somebody else put her up to it.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I’m not sure. The next time I see her, I’ll ask her.’

  ‘How do you plan to get into Sthiss Tor?’

  ‘I’m going to depopulate the Alorn kingdoms to provide myself with an escort. Then I’m going to march through Nyissa like some kind of natural disaster. I’ll chase the Snake People so far back into the trees that they’ll have to import daylight. You’d better tell the boy that he’s an orphan.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I said it in a flat, unfriendly tone of voice.

  ‘You’re better at that sort of thing than I am, Pol. It might make him feel better if he knows that I’m going to destroy Nyissa in retaliation.’

  ‘He’s only a little boy, father, and his mother was just killed. I don’t think the idea of retaliation’s going to comfort him very much.’

&
nbsp; That’s about the only thing we’ve got to offer him right now. You’re going to have to fill in for his mother, I’m afraid.’

  ‘What do I know about raising little boys, father?’

  ‘You didn’t do too badly with Daran after your sister died, Pol. I’m sorry to saddle you with this, but there’s no one else available, and the boy absolutely must be protected. You’re going to have to hide him. This assassination has “Angarak” printed all over it, and Ctuchik’s got prophecies of his own that’ll advise him that there’s a survivor. The West’s going to be awash with Grolims before the year’s out. The protection of that little boy is the most important thing any of us are going to do right now.’

  ‘I’ll take care of it, father.’ Then I went back below decks to break the news to the little prince.

  He wept, of course, and I tried my best to comfort him.

  A peculiar thought came to me as I held the sobbing little boy in my arms. I don’t think I’d ever actually come to grips with a certain stark reality. Mother was not born a human, and that quite clearly meant that I was part wolf. Though I didn’t have paws, a shaggy tail, or sharp teeth, I did have certain wolfish traits. Wolves are pack animals, and they all share in the responsibility of caring for the puppies, regardless of which particular female gave birth to them. My comforting of this grieving, sandy-haired little boy was instinctive, growing out of the need to protect the pack.

  Once I’d come face to face with that fact, several decisions followed automatically. I needed a safe, well-hidden den first of all. Mother’s cottage would not serve that purpose. It was too exposed and too many people knew where it was. Next, I needed a reliable source of food. The answer, of course, was obvious. My rose-choked manor house on Lake Erat had long since been forgotten, and it was virtually invisible. Moreover, the grounds around it were fertile, and I could easily grow vegetables among the rose bushes and periodically drift out on silent wings at night to poach rabbits and an occasional sheep. The manor house would provide safety and food. Prince Geran might be a little wild and uncivilized when he grew up, but at least he’d still be alive.

  I also discovered that thinking wolfishly gave me a tremendous amount of insight into mother’s character. Everything she’d done – even including her seeming desertion of my sister and me – had been done to defend the pack.

  ‘Naturally, Pol,’ her voice came to me out of nowhere. ‘Are you only just now coming to realize that? You really ought to pay more attention, you know.’

  Geran was so overcome with grief that we didn’t really talk very much during the two days we were at sea on our way to the coast of Sendaria, but when we reached a cove some five miles north of Camaar and went ashore, he pulled himself together enough to be able to speak coherently with Brand. He asked the Rivan Warder to take care of his people and to guard the Orb. Geran’s family has always taken those two responsibilities very seriously, and despite the fact that the boy had been far down the line of succession before his entire family had been murdered, he’d clearly received instruction in the important things.

  After Brand left for Camaar to commandeer a crew for his return voyage to the Isle, I spoke briefly with father, advising him of my plan to hide my new charge at my manor house on Lake Erat He had objections, of course. Father always has objections when I tell him that I’m going to do something. He should have saved his breath, because, as always, I overrode his quibbles. You’d think that after two thousand years he’d have learned not to try to tell me what to do, but some people never learn, I guess.

  Geran, his small face very serious, asked his ultimate grandfather to chastise the Serpent Queen for murdering his family.

  Then father left for Val Alorn to begin gathering forces for his intended invasion of the land of the Snake People.

  ‘Where are we going, Aunt Pol?’ Geran asked me.

  ‘I have a house here in Sendaria, Geran,’ I told him. ‘We should be safe there.’

  ‘Have you got lots of soldiers there?’

  ‘No, Geran. I don’t need soldiers in that particular place.’

  ‘Won’t that be sort of dangerous? What I mean is that the snake lady probably still wants to kill me, and she’s got those people with poisoned knives working for her. I’m not very big yet, so I couldn’t really protect you from them.’

  He was such a dear, serious little boy. I took him in my arms and held him very close for a while, and I think we both rather liked that ‘Everything’s going to be all right, Geran,’ I assured him. ‘Nobody knows that the house is there, and it’s very hard to get to it’

  ‘Did you put a spell on it?’ he asked eagerly. Then he flushed slightly. ‘That wasn’t very polite was it, Aunt Pol? I’ve heard all kinds of stories about how you can do magic things – like casting spells and turning people into frogs and things like that – but you haven’t given me permission to talk about those things, so I shouldn’t have just come right out and said it that way, should I?’

  ‘It’s all right, Geran,’ I said. ‘We’re part of the same family, so we don’t really have to stand on ceremony, do we? Let’s go back in among the trees. This beach is right out in the open, and we do have enemies out there looking for us.’

  ‘Whatever you say, Aunt Pol.’

  We struck out from the beach in the general direction of Lake Sulturn, staying on the back roads and country lanes. I bought food at an isolated farm house, and the young prince and I camped out that first night. After the boy had fallen asleep in my arms, I started to think about logistics. We hadn’t really covered very much ground that day, and I definitely wanted to get further inland. That open beach was just too close for my peace of mind.

  I immediately dismissed the notion of ‘tampering’. Father’s warning about Grolims was probably quite close to the mark, and ‘tampering’ makes a characteristic noise that would draw every Grolim in Sendaria right to me. Geran was a sturdy little boy, but his legs weren’t very long yet, so walking wasn’t getting us away from the beach fast enough for my comfort. Obviously, we were going to need a horse. I checked the purse I always keep tucked under my clothing and found that I had adequate funds with me, so I sent out a probing thought, searching for a farm of some size along the road ahead. Fortunately, I found what I was looking for only a few miles away.

  I dozed from time to time during that long night. Under the circumstances, a deep sleep might not have been a good idea. Then, when dawn began to touch the eastern sky, I stirred up our small fire and began cooking breakfast.

  ‘Good morning, Aunt Pol,’ Geran said when the smells of hot food woke him. ‘I’m really hungry, you know?’

  ‘Little boys are always hungry, Geran.’

  ‘How far is it to your house?’

  ‘About ninety leagues – almost three hundred miles.’

  ‘My feet are really sore, Aunt Pol. I’m not used to walking all day.’

  ‘It’ll get easier in just a bit, Geran,’ I assured him. ‘There’s another farm just ahead. I’ll buy a horse there, and then we can ride.’

  ‘That’s a very good idea, Aunt Pol.’ He seemed quite enthusiastic.

  There was one brief problem about that when we reached the farm and I’d chosen the horse I wanted.

  ‘Ah – these are very old coins, ma’am,’ the farmer said dubiously. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen any quite so old.’

  ‘They’re part of my inheritance, good farmer,’ I lied quickly. ‘My family’s a bit on the tight-fisted side, and once they get their hands on a coin, they tend to keep it’

  ‘That’s a commendable trait, but I don’t really know what these are worth in today’s money.’

  ‘Silver’s silver, good farmer. It’s the weight that’s important, not whose picture’s stamped on the front of the coin.’

  ‘Well – I suppose you’re right about that. Only –’

  ‘I’m really in a bit of a hurry, friend. My nephew and I absolutely must get to Sulturn before the week’s out. Why don’t I jus
t add three of these coins to cover any possible difference in value?’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to cheat you, ma’am.’ In a very real sense, I’d created the Sendarian character, and now it was coming back to haunt me.

  In the end, the honest farmer and I settled for two extra coins, and I became the owner of a mottled grey horse named Squire. The good farmer threw in an almost worn-out saddle, and Geran and I prepared to leave. First, however, I had a talk with Squire, who hadn’t been ridden all winter and who was feeling frisky. I took him – firmly – by the chin and looked straight into his large eyes. ‘Behave yourself, Squire,’ I advised him. ‘Do your prancing and cavorting around on your own time. You really don’t want to make me cross, now do you?’

  He seemed to get my point, and after a mile or so of getting used to each other, we settled into a rolling canter that literally ate up the miles.

  ‘This is much better than walking, Aunt Pol,’ Geran said enthusiastically after a little while. ‘I’ll bet my feet won’t be sore tonight.’

  ‘No, probably not, but some other part might be.’

  Geran and Squire hit it off well almost immediately, and I felt that to be a good thing. The young prince was carrying a heavy load of grief, and his friendship with our horse helped to take his mind off that.

  We reached Sulturn in two days, but I bypassed the city and took a room in a village inn rather than one of the more opulent lodging houses in Sulturn itself. I felt that it was safer that way.

  We continued on toward the northeast for the next several days, and I spent a fair amount of that time giving Geran instructions in the fine art of being unobtrusive. To further that end, I dyed his characteristic sandy-colored hair black. It was just possible that Ctuchik’s Grolims might know that virtually everybody in the line of Iron-grip and my sister had the same color hair and they’d be looking for blond little boys. I also concealed the tell-tale lock in my own hair with some intricate braiding. If some Grolim happened to be searching for ‘a lady with a white streak in her hair and a sandy-haired little boy’, he’d look right past us.

  As we approached Medalia in central Sendaria, the probing thought I kept more or less continually sweeping on ahead of us bore fruit. I caught a flash of that dull black color that identified an Angarak. It wasn’t the glossy black of a Grolim, but at this particular time, I didn’t want to encounter any Angarak, be he Murgo, Nadrak, or Thull.