‘You’re too kind,’ I murmured to him. ‘Come along then, Grul. Since you’ve got your heart set on this, we may as well get going. I’ve got better things to do today.’ I was gambling. The fact that this huge, shaggy monster could speak was an indication that he could also think – minimally. My bluster was designed to make him a little wary. I didn’t want him to simply rush me. If I could make him hesitate, I might have a chance.
My apparent willingness to fight him had the desired effect. Grul wasn’t accustomed to having people shrug off his huge size, so he was just a bit cautious as he approached. That was what I’d been hoping for. When he reached out with both huge hands to grasp me, I ducked under them and stepped forward, smoothly pulling my knife out of my sleeve. Then, with one quick swipe, I sliced him across the belly. I wasn’t certain enough of his anatomy to try stabbing him in the heart. As big as he was, his ribs were probably as thick as my wrist.
He stared at me in utter amazement. Then he looked down at the entrails that came boiling out of the gaping wound that ran from hip to hip across his lower belly.
‘I think you dropped something there, Grul,’ I suggested.
He clutched at his spilling entrails with both hands, a look of consternation on his brutish face. ‘’Grat cut Grul’s belly,’ he said. ‘Make Grul’s insides fall out.’
‘Yes, I noticed that. Did you want to fight some more, Grul? I think you could spend your time better by sewing yourself back together. You’re not going to be able to move very fast with your guts tangled around your feet.’
‘’Grat is not nice,’ he accused mournfully, sitting down and holding his entrails in his lap.
For some reason, that struck me as enormously funny. I laughed for a bit, but when two great tears began to run down his shaggy face, I felt a little ashamed of myself. I held out my hand, willed a large, curved needle into existence and threaded it with deer sinew. I tossed it to him. ‘Here,’ I told him. ‘Sew your belly back together, and remember this if we ever run across each other again. Find something else to eat, Grul. I’m old and tough and stringy, so I really wouldn’t taste too good – and I think you’ve already discovered that I’m very expensive.’
The dawn had progressed far enough along to give me sufficient light to travel, so I left him sitting by my fire trying to figure out how to use the needle I’d given him.
Oddly, the incident brightened my disposition enormously. I’d actually pulled it off. What an amazing thing that was! I savored that last comment of his. By now, half the world agreed with him. ‘Grat is definitely not nice.
I reached the western edge of the Vale two days later. It was early summer, one of the loveliest times of year. The spring rains have passed, and the dusty heat that comes later hasn’t yet arrived. Even though our Master was gone, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Vale more beautiful. The grass was bright green, and many of the fruit trees that grew wild there were in bloom. The berries were out, although they weren’t really ripe yet. I rather like the tart taste of half-ripe berries anyway. The sky was very blue, and the puffy white clouds seemed almost to dance aloft. The roiling grey clouds and stiff winds of early spring are dramatic, but early summer is lush and warm and filled with the scent of urgent growth. I was home, and I don’t know that I’ve ever been any happier.
I was in a peculiar sort of mood. I was eager to get back to Poledra, but for some reason I was enjoying the sense of anticipation. I discarded my traveling form and almost sauntered across the gentle hills and valleys of the Vale. I knew that Poledra would sense my approach, and, as she always did, she’d probably be fixing supper. I didn’t want to rush her.
It was just evening when I reached my tower, and I was a little surprised not to see lights in the windows. I went around to the far side, opened the door and went on in. ‘Poledra,’ I called up the stairs to her.
Strangely, she didn’t answer.
I went on up the stairs.
It was dark in my tower. Poledra’s curtains may not have kept out the breeze, but they definitely kept out the light. I twirled a tongue of flame off my index finger and lit a candle.
There wasn’t anybody there, and the place had that dusty, unused look. What was going on here?
Then I saw a square of parchment in the precise center of my work-table, and I recognized Beldin’s crabbed handwriting immediately. ‘Come to my tower.’ That was all it said.
I raised my candle and saw that the two cradles were gone. Evidently Beldin had transferred my wife and children to his tower. That was odd. Poledra had a very strong attachment to this tower. Why would Beldin have moved her? As I remembered, she didn’t particularly like his tower. It was a little too fanciful for her taste. Puzzled, I went back downstairs.
It was only about a five-minute walk to Beldin’s tower, and I didn’t really hurry. But my sense of anticipation was fading toward puzzlement.
‘Beldin!’ I shouted up to him. ‘It’s me. Open your door.’
There was quite a long pause, and then the rock that formed his door slid open.
I started on up the stairs. Now I did hurry.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I looked around. Beltira, Belkira, and Beldin were there, but Poledra wasn’t. ‘Where’s my wife?’ I asked.
‘Don’t you want to meet your daughters?’ Beltira asked me.
‘Daughters? More than one?’
‘That’s why we made two cradles, brother,’ Belkira said. ‘You’re the father of twins.’
Beldin reached into one of the cradles and gently lifted out a baby. ‘This is Polgara,’ he introduced her. ‘She’s your eldest,’ He handed me the blanket-wrapped baby. I turned back the corner of the blanket and looked into Pol’s eyes for the very first time. Pol and I didn’t get off to a very good start. Those of you who know her know that my daughter’s eyes change color, depending on her mood. They were steel-grey when I first looked into them, and as hard as agates. I got the distinct impression that she didn’t care much for me. Her hair was very dark, and she seemed not to have the characteristic chubbiness babies are supposed to have. Her face was expressionless, but those steely eyes of hers spoke volumes. Then I did something that had been a custom back in the village of Gara. Pol was my first-born, whether she liked me or not, so I laid my hand on her head in benediction.
I felt a sudden jolt in that hand, and I jerked it back with a startled oath. It’s a bit unfortunate that the first word Polgara heard coming from my mouth was a curse. I stared at this grim-faced baby girl. A single lock at her brow had turned snowy white at my touch.
‘What a wonder!’ Beltira gasped.
‘Not really,’ Beldin disagreed. ‘She’s his first-born, and he just marked her. Unless I miss my guess, she’s going to grow up to be a sorcerer.’
‘Sorceress,’ Belkira corrected.
‘What?’
‘A sorcerer is a man. She’s a girl, so the right word would be sorceress.’
Sorceress or not, my first-born was wet, so I put her back in her cradle.
My younger daughter was the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen – and that’s not just fatherly pride. Everybody who saw her said exactly the same thing. She smiled at me as I took her from Beldin, and with that one sunny little smile, she reached directly into my heart and claimed me.
‘You still haven’t answered my question, Beldin,’ I said, cuddling Beldaran in my arms. ‘Where’s Poledra?’
‘Why don’t you sit down and have a drink, Belgarath?’ He went quickly to an open barrel and dipped me out a tankard of ale.
I