‘There’s a thought,’ Dras noted. ‘If the Murgos want horses, couldn’t we interest them in trade, too?’
Algar shook his head. ‘Not Murgos, no. Their minds don’t work that way. One of my clan-chiefs questioned a Thull who actually knew his right hand from his left. The Thull said that Ctuchik’s at Rak Goska. As long as he’s dominating Murgo society, there won’t be any peaceful contacts with them.’
‘Pol’s right, then,’ Beldin said. ‘We’re going to have to try to work through the Nadraks.’ He squinted at the ceiling. ‘I don’t think this Angarak migration poses much of a threat – at least not yet. There weren’t all that many people in Cthol Mishrak to begin with, and Ctuchik’s got them spread out fairly thin. The real threat is still Mallorea. I think I’ll go back there and keep an eye on things. The Angaraks on this continent are just an advance party. They’re probably here to build supply dumps and staging areas. You won’t have to start sharpening your swords until the Malloreans begin coming across. I’ll keep my ear to the ground over there and let you know when the military moves north out of Mal Zeth toward the bridge.’
Polgara pursed her lips. ‘I think we might want to establish closer ties with the Tolnedrans and the Arends.’
‘Why’s that, dear sister?’ Riva asked her. He was her brother-in-law now, and he automatically used that form of address. Family’s an important thing to Alorns.
‘We might need their help with the Malloreans.’
‘The Tolnedrans wouldn’t help unless we paid them to,’ Cherek disagreed, ‘and the Arends are too busy fighting with each other.’
‘They live here too, Bear-shoulders,’ she pointed out, ‘and I don’t think they’d want Malloreans on this continent any more than we would. The legions could be very helpful, and the Arends have been training for war since before Torak split the world. Besides, Chaldan and Nedra would probably be offended if we all went off to war and didn’t invite them to come along.’
‘Excuse me, Polgara,’ Dras rumbled, ‘but how did you learn so much about politics? As I understand it, this is the first time you’ve ever been out of the Vale.’
‘Uncle Beldin keeps me posted,’ she replied, shrugging slightly. ‘It’s always nice to know what the neighbors are up to.’
‘Is there any point to involving the Nyissans or the Marags?’ Riva asked.
‘We should probably make the offer,’ I said. ‘The current Salmissra’s a fairly intelligent young woman, and she’s as concerned about the Angaraks as we are. The Marags wouldn’t be of much use. There aren’t that many of them, and the fact that they’re cannibals might make everybody else nervous.’
Beldin laughed that ugly laugh of his. ‘Tell them to start eating Angaraks. Let the Murgos get nervous.’
‘I think maybe we’d all better start thinking about going home,’ Cherek suggested, rising to his feet. ‘The wedding’s over now, and if the Malloreans are coming, we’d better start getting ready for them.’
And that was more or less the extent of the first Alorn Council.
‘Is it always that much fun?’ Polgara asked me as we were returning to our quarters.
‘Fun? Did I miss something?’
‘Politics, father,’ she explained, ‘all this business of trying to guess what the other side’s going to do.’
‘I’ve always rather enjoyed it.’
‘I guess you really are my father, then. That was much more fun than leading young men around by their noses or turning their knees to water just by fluttering my eyelashes at them.’
‘You’re a cruel woman, Polgara.’
‘I’m glad you realize that, father. It wouldn’t be much fun at all to catch you unawares.’ She gave me one of those obscure little smiles. ‘Watch out for me, father,’ she warned. ‘I’m at least as dangerous as you are or Torak is.’
You did say it, Pol, so don’t try to deny it.
Our parting from Beldaran wasn’t one of the happier moments in our lives. My love for my blonde daughter had been the anchor that had hauled me back to sanity, and Polgara’s ties to her twin sister were so complex that I couldn’t even begin to understand them.
Beldin and I talked at some length before we separated. He promised to keep me advised about what was going on in Mallorea, but I had a few suspicions about Beldin’s motives for going back there. I had the feeling that he wanted to continue his discussion of white-hot hooks with the leprous-looking Urvon, and there was always the chance of coming across Zedar in some out-of-the-way place. There are nicer people in the world than Beldin.
I wished him the best of luck – and I meant it. There are nicer people than me out there as well. ‘Grat is not nice, after all.
My brother left from the headland just south of the harbor at Riva, spiraling upward on lazy wings. Pol and I, however, left by more conventional means. Bear-shoulders took us to the Sendarian coast in that dangerously narrow warboat of his. Even though I’d helped to design them, I don’t like Cherek war-boats. There’s no denying that they’re fast, but it always feels to me whenever I board one that it’s right on the verge of capsizing. I’m sure Silk understands that, but Barak never will.
Pol and I took our time returning to the Vale. There was no real hurry, after all. In a curious sort of way, Beldaran’s marriage made peace between Polgara and me. We didn’t talk about it, we just closed ranks to fill in the gap that had suddenly appeared in our lives. Pol still made those clever remarks, but a lot of the bite had gone out of them.
It was midsummer by the time we got home, and we spent the first week or so giving the twins a full description of the wedding and of Pol’s conquests. I’m sure they noticed the change in her appearance, but they chose not to make an issue of it.
Then we settled back in. It was after dinner one evening when Polgara raised something I’d been cudgeling my brains to find a way to bring up myself. As I remember, we were doing the dishes at the time. I don’t particularly like to dry dishes, since they’ll dry themselves if you just leave them alone, but Polgara seems to feel a kind of closeness in the business, and if it made her happy, I wasn’t going to disturb the uneasy peace between us by objecting.
She handed me the last dripping plate, dried her hands, and said, ‘I guess it’s time for me to start my education, father. The Master’s been harping on that for quite some time now.’
I almost dropped the plate. ‘Aldur talks to you, too?’ I asked her as calmly as I could.
She gave me a quizzical look. ‘Of course.’ Then the look became offensively pitying. ‘Oh, come now, father. Are you trying to say that you didn’t know?’
I know now that I shouldn’t have been so surprised, but I’d been raised in a society in which women were hardly more than servants. Poledra had been an entirely different matter, of course, but for some reason the implications of what Polgara had just told me were profoundly shocking. The fact that Aldur had come to her in the same way that he came to me was an indication of a certain status, and I simply wasn’t ready to accept the idea of a female disciple. I guess that sometimes I’m just a little too old-fashioned.
Fortunately, I had sense enough to keep those opinions to myself. I carefully finished drying the plate, put it on the shelf, and hung up the dishtowel.
‘Where’s the best place to begin?’ she asked me.
‘The same place I did, I suppose. Try not to be offended, Pol,