‘That wasn’t my idea. My Master gave them to me about five thousand years ago. There were a number of times when I tried to give them back, but he wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘Well, if you’re not an Alorn, what are you?’
‘I’m not really sure. It wasn’t all that important to me when I was young. I do know that I’m not an Alorn. I’m not crazy enough for that.’
‘Grandfather!’ Garion protested.
‘You don’t count, Garion. You’re only half Alorn.’
They reached the door of the cottage and carefully stamped the snow off their feet before entering. The cottage was Aunt Pol’s domain, and she had strong feelings about people who tracked snow across her spotless floors.
The interior of the cottage was warm and filled with golden lamplight that reflected from the polished surfaces of Aunt Pol’s copper-bottomed pots and kettles and pans hanging from hooks on either side of the arched fireplace. Durnik had built the table and chairs in the center of the room out of oak, and the golden color of the wood was enhanced by the lamplight.
The three of them immediately went to the fireplace to warm their hands and feet.
The door to the bedroom opened, and Poledra came out. ‘Well?’ she said, ‘did you see them off?’
‘Yes, dear,’ Belgarath replied. ‘They were going in a generally northeasterly direction the last time I looked.’
‘How’s Pol?’ Durnik asked.
‘Happy,’ Garion’s tawny-haired grandmother replied.
‘That’s not exactly what I meant. Is she still awake?’
Poledra nodded. ‘She’s lying in bed admiring her handiwork.’
‘Would it be all right if I looked in on her?’
‘Of course. Just don’t wake the babies.’
‘Make a note of that, Durnik,’ Belgarath advised. ‘Not waking those babies is likely to become your main purpose in life for the next several months.’
Durnik smiled briefly and went into the bedroom with Poledra.
‘You shouldn’t tease him that way, grandfather,’ Garion chided.
‘I wasn’t teasing, Garion. Sleep’s very rare in a house with twins. One of them always seems to be awake. Would you like something to drink? I think I can probably find Pol’s beer-barrel.’
‘She’ll pull out your beard if she catches you in her pantry.’
‘She isn’t going to catch me, Garion. She’s too busy being a mother right now.’ The old man crossed the room to the pantry and began rummaging around.
Garion pulled off his cloak, hung it on a wooden peg, and went back to the fireplace. His feet still felt cold. He looked up at the latticework of rafters overhead. It was easy to see that Durnik had crafted them. The smith’s meticulous attention to detail showed in everything he did. The rafters were exposed over this central room, but there was a loft over the bedroom, and a flight of stairs reaching up to it along the back wall.
‘Found it,’ Belgarath called triumphantly from the pantry. ‘She tried to hide it behind the flour barrel.’
Garion smiled. His grandfather could probably find a beer-cask in the dark at the bottom of a coal-mine.
The old man came out with three brimming tankards, set them down on the table, and moved a chair around until it faced the fireplace. Then he took one of the tankards, sat, and stretched his feet out toward the fire. ‘Pull up a chair, Garion,’ he invited. ‘We might as well be comfortable.’
Garion did that. ‘It’s been quite a night,’ he said.
‘That it has, boy,’ the old man replied. ‘That it has.’
‘Shouldn’t we say goodnight to Aunt Pol?’
‘Durnik’s with her. Let’s not disturb them. This is a special sort of time for married people.’
‘Yes,’ Garion agreed, remembering that night a few weeks ago when his daughter had been born.
‘Will you be going back to Riva soon?’
‘I probably should,’ Garion replied. ‘I think I’ll wait a few days, though – at least until Aunt Pol’s back on her feet again.’
‘Don’t wait too long,’ Belgarath advised with a sly grin. ‘Ce’Nedra’s sitting on the throne all by herself right now, you know.’
‘She’ll be all right. She knows what to do.’
‘Yes, but do you want her doing things on her own?’
‘Oh, I don’t think she’ll declare war on anybody while I’m gone.’
‘Maybe not, but with Ce’Nedra you never really know, do you?’
‘Quit making fun of my wife, grandfather.’
‘I’m not making fun of her. I love her dearly, but I do know her. All I’m saying is that she’s a little unpredictable.’ Then the old sorcerer sighed.
‘Is something the matter, grandfather?’
‘I was just chewing on some old regrets. I don’t think you and Durnik realize just how lucky you are. I wasn’t around when my twins were born. I was off on a business trip.’
Garion knew the story, of course. ‘You didn’t have any choice, grandfather,’ he said. ‘Aldur ordered you to go to Mallorea. It was time to recover the Orb from Torak, and you had to go along to help Cherek Bear-shoulders and his sons.’
‘Don’t try to be reasonable about it, Garion. The bald fact is that I abandoned my wife when she needed me the most. Things might have turned out very differently if I hadn’t.’
‘Are you still feeling guilty about that?’
‘Of course I am. I’ve been carrying that guilt around for three thousand years. You can hand out all the royal pardons you want, but it’s still there.’
‘Grandmother forgives you.’
‘Naturally she does. Your grandmother’s a wolf, and wolves don’t hold grudges. The whole point, though, is that she can forgive me, and you can forgive me, and you can get up a petition signed by everybody in the known world that forgives me, but I still won’t forgive myself. Why don’t we talk about something else?’
Durnik came back out of the bedroom. ‘She’s asleep,’ he said softly. Then he went to the fireplace and stacked more wood on the embers. ‘It’s a cold night out there,’ he noted. ‘Let’s keep this fire going.’
‘I should have thought of that,’ Garion apologized.
‘Are the babies still asleep?’ Belgarath asked the smith.
Durnik nodded.
‘Enjoy it while you can. They’re resting up.’
Durnik smiled. Then he too pulled a chair closer to the fire. ‘Do you remember what we were talking about earlier?’ he asked, reaching for the remaining tankard on the table.
‘We talked about a lot of things,’ Belgarath told him.
‘I mean the business of the same things happening over and over again. What happened tonight isn’t one of those, is it?’
‘Would it come as a surprise to you if I told you that Pol isn’t the first to give birth to twins?’
‘I know that, Belgarath, but this seems different somehow. I get the feeling that this isn’t something that’s happened before. This seems