‘Beldaran’s pregnancy, most likely,’ I replied, still watching the stars. ‘She is my sister, after all, and something was happening to her that I’d never experienced myself. I wanted to know all about it, so I went to Arell’s shop to get some first-hand information from an expert.’
‘Who’s Arell?’ Belkira asked.
I turned away from the stars. ‘Beldaran’s midwife,’ I explained.
‘She has a shop for that?’
‘No. She’s also a dressmaker. We all got to know her when we were getting things ready for Beldaran’s wedding. Arell’s a very down-to-earth sort of person, and she explained the whole process to me.’
‘What led you to branch out?’ Beldin asked curiously.
‘You gentlemen have corrupted me,’ I replied, smiling at them. ‘Learning just one facet of something’s never quite enough, so I guess I wanted to go on until I’d exhausted the possibilities of the subject. Arell told me that certain herbs help to quiet labor pains, and that led me to Argak the herbalist. He’s spent a lifetime studying the effects of various herbs. He’s even got a fair-sized collection of Nyissan poisons. He’s a grumpy sort of fellow, but I flattered him into giving me instruction, so I can probably deal with the more common ailments. Herbs are probably at the core of the physician’s art, but some things can’t be cured with herbs alone, so Arell and Argak took me to see Salheim the smith, who’s also a very good bone-setter. He taught me how to fix broken bones, and from there I went to see a barber named Balten to learn surgery.’
‘A barber?’ Belkira asked incredulously.
I shrugged. ‘You need sharp implements for surgery, uncle, and a barber keeps his razors very sharp.’ I smiled slightly. ‘I might have actually contributed something to the art of surgery while I was there. Balten usually got his patients roaring drunk before he started cutting, but I talked with Argak about it, and he concocted a mixture of various herbs that puts people to sleep. It’s faster and much more dependable than several gallons of beer. The only part of surgery I didn’t care for was grave-robbing.’
‘Grave-robbing?’ Beltira exclaimed, shuddering.
‘It’s part of the study of anatomy, uncle. You have to know where things are located before you cut somebody open, so surgeons usually dig up dead bodies to examine as a way to increase their knowledge.’
Uncle Beldin looked around at the groaning bookshelves that covered almost every open wall of his lovely tower. ‘I think I’ve got some Melcene texts on anatomy knocking around here someplace, Pol,’ he said. ‘I’ll see if I can dig them out for you.’
‘Would you please, uncle?’ I said. ‘I’d much rather get that information from a text-book than carve it out of somebody who’s been dead for a month.’
They all choked on that a bit.
My uncles were interested in what had happened on the Isle of the Winds, of course, since we were all very close to Beldaran, but they were really curious about the two Prophets. We had entered what the Seers at Kell call ‘the Age of Prophecy’, and the Master had advised my father that the two Necessities would speak to us from the mouths of madmen. The problem with that, of course, lay in the whole business of deciding which madmen to listen to.
‘Father seems to think he’s found the answer to that problem,’ I told them one evening when we’d gathered in the twins’ tower. ‘He believes that the Necessity identifies itself by putting the words “the Child of Light” into the mouths of the real prophets. We all know what the expression means, and ordinary people don’t. At any rate, both Bormik and the idiot in Braca used the term.’
‘That’s convenient,’ Belkira noted.
‘Also economical,’ I added. ‘Bull-neck was a little unhappy about the expense of paying scribes to hover over every crazy man in his entire kingdom.’
It was during that time of homey domesticity that mother explained the significance of the silver amulet father had fashioned for me. ‘It gives you a way to focus your power, Pol,’ she told me. ‘When you’re forming the idea of what you want to do – something that you’re not really sure you can do – channel the thought through your amulet, and it’ll intensify your will’
‘Why does Beldaran have one, then, mother? I love her, of course, but she doesn’t seem to have “talent”.’
Mother laughed. ‘Oh, dear, dear Polgara,’ she said to me. ‘In some ways Beldaran’s even more talented than you are.’
‘What are you talking about, mother? I’ve never seen her do anything.’
‘I know. You probably never will, either. You always do what she tells you to do, though, don’t you?’
‘Well –’ I stopped as that particular thought came crashing in on me. Sweet, gentle Beldaran had dominated me since before we were born. ‘That isn’t fair, mother!’ I objected.
‘What isn’t?’
‘First she’s prettier than I am, and now you tell me that she’s more powerful. Can’t I be better at something than she is?’
‘It’s not a competition, Polgara. Each of us is different, that’s all, and each of us has different things we have to do. This isn’t a foot-race, so there aren’t any prizes for winning.’
I felt a little silly at that point.
Then mother explained that Beldaran’s power was passive. ‘She makes everybody love her, Pol, and you can’t get much more powerful than that. In some ways, she’s like this Tree. She changes people just by being there. Oh, she can also hear with her amulet.’
‘Hear?’
‘She can hear people talking – even if they’re miles away. A time will come when that’ll be very useful.’
Ce’Nedra discovered that quite some time later.
It was almost autumn when father returned from Rak Cthol. The sun had gone down when he came clumping up the stairs of his tower where I was preparing supper and talking with uncle Beldin. Making some noise when you enter a room where there’s someone with ‘talent’ is only good common sense. You don’t really want to startle someone who has unusual capabilities at his disposal.
‘What kept you?’ Uncle Beldin asked him.
‘It’s a long way to Rak Cthol, Beldin.’ Father looked around. ‘Where are the twins?’
‘They’re busy right now, father,’ I told him. ‘They’ll be along later.’
‘How did things go at Rak Cthol?’ Beldin asked.
‘Not bad.’
Then they got down to details.
My concept of my father had somehow been based on the less admirable side of his nature. No matter what had happened, he was still Garath at the core: lazy, deceitful, and highly unreliable. When the occasion demanded it, though, the Old Wolf could set ‘Garath’ and all his faults aside and become ‘Belgarath’. Evidently, that was the side of him that Ctuchik saw. Father didn’t come right out and say it, but Ctuchik was clearly afraid of him, and that in itself was enough to make me reconsider my opinion of the sometimes foolish old man who’d sired me.
‘What now, Belgarath?’ uncle Beldin asked after father’d finished.
Father pondered that for a while. ‘I think we’d better call in the twins. We’re running without instructions here, and I’ll feel a lot more comfortable if I know that we’re running in the right direction. I wasn’t just blowing smoke in Ctuchik’s ear when I raised the possibility of a third destiny taking a hand in this game of ours. If Torak succeeds