Belgarath the Sorcerer

I skirted the Sendarian border, and I reached Aldurford in a couple of days. Then I followed the Great North Road up along the causeway that crosses the fens to Boktor. I stopped there only long enough to purchase a suit of Drasnian clothes. Then I crossed the moors to the Nadrak border.

‘What’s your business in Gar og Nadrak?’ one of the border guards demanded suspiciously after he’d stopped me.

‘My business is just that, friend,’ I told him bluntly, ‘my business. I’m going to Yar Nadrak to buy something. Then I’m going to take it back to Boktor and sell it. I’ve got all the necessary documents, if you want to see them.’

‘A certain gratuity’s customary,’ he suggested hopefully.

‘I try not to be a slave to custom,’ I told him. ‘I should probably tell you that King Drosta’s a personal friend of mine.’ Actually I’d never even met Drosta, but dropping names can be useful.

The guard’s face grew slightly apprehensive.

‘I wonder how your king’s going to react when I tell him that his border guards are accepting bribes,’ I added.

‘You wouldn’t actually tell him, would you?’

‘Not if you let me go across the border without any more of this nonsense.’

He sullenly raised the gate and let me pass. I suppose I could have paid him, but Rablek and I had worked very hard digging up that gold, so I didn’t feel like squandering any of it.

I followed the North Caravan Route eastward, and it took me about a week to reach Yar Nadrak, the capital. Yar Nadrak’s a particularly ugly town. It lies at the juncture of the east and west forks of the River Cordu, and the land around it is marshy and dotted with charred snags, since Nadraks habitually clear forests by setting fire to them. I think the thing that makes the capital so unappealing is the fact that just about everything inside the walls is smeared with tar. It keeps wood from decaying, I guess, but it doesn’t add much in the way of beauty - or fragrance.

I rode directly to the fur market and asked around for the fur merchant, Gallak. I was directed to a nearby tavern, which is probably the last place I’d have expected to find Polgara. It was a rowdy sort of place with a low ceiling held up by tar-smeared beams, and as soon as I entered I saw something that really surprised me.

Polgara was dancing.

She might not have been quite as good as Vella, but she came very close. She was wearing soft leather boots of a Nadrak design, and the hilt of a dagger protruded from the top of each one. Two more daggers were tucked into her belt. She was wearing a rather flimsy dress made of Mallorean silk - blue naturally - and all sorts of interesting things were going on under that dress as she spun on flickering feet through the intricate steps of the dance.

The patrons of the tavern were cheering her on, and I started feeling belligerent. Sometimes it feels as if I’ve spent eons feeling belligerent when men have started paying too much attention to Polgara. But aren’t fathers supposed to feel that way?

Anyway, she concluded her dance with that challenging strut that’s the traditional finale of the dance of the Nadrak woman, and the patrons cheered, whistled, and stamped their feet in approval. Then she returned to the table where the man I guessed to be her owner sat basking in reflected glory. He was a lean-faced Nadrak of middle years, and the cut and quality of his garments proclaimed him to be a man of some substance. I noticed that he very carefully kept his hands to himself when Pol sat down. It was fairly clear that she knew how to use those daggers.

I pushed my way through the crowd to his table. ‘That’s quite a woman you’ve got there, friend,’ I said to him. ‘Would you care to sell her?’ It was a little blunt, but Nadraks tend to get right to the point in these matters.

He looked me up and down. ‘You’re a Drasnian, aren’t you?’ he judged from my clothes.

‘Right,’ I replied.

‘I don’t think I’d care to sell her to a Drasnian.’

‘Business is business, Gallak,’ I told him, ‘and my money’s as good as anybody else’s.’ I hefted the saddle-bags I’d brought.

‘How did you come to know my name?’ he asked me.

‘I asked around,’ I replied

‘Aren’t you a little old to be buying women?’

‘I’m not buying her for myself, Gallak. I want to give Crown Prince Rhodar a special gift when the time comes for him to assume the throne of Drasnia. It never hurts a businessman to have his king obligated to him.’

‘That’s very true,’ he conceded, ‘but Rhodar’s an Alorn. What makes you think he’d be interested in a Nadrak woman?’

‘You don’t know Rhodar, I see. He’s got a very large appetite - for lots of things.’

‘He might start to lose that appetite after Polanna here cuts out his tripes for getting too familiar. She’s very quick with her daggers.’

‘Is that her name?’

He nodded. ‘Just for the sake of argument, what would you be willing to offer me for her?’

I reached inside my saddle-bags, took out one of my bars of gold and laid it on the table in front of him.

Polgara’d been watching us rather closely. ‘Absolutely out of the question,’ she snapped. ‘You’d need twenty of those to buy me. Tell him to go away, Gallak.’

Gallak, however, was examining the bar rather closely. ‘Don’t be in such a rush, Pol,’ he told her. ‘This is very good quality. I’d say that it’s almost pure.’ He squinted at me. ‘How’d you come by this, friend?’

‘I did some prospecting a few years back,’ I replied. ‘My partner and I found a stream that was running bank-full of this stuff.’

His eyes grew very bright at that point. ‘I’d like to see that stream,’ he said.

‘A lot of people would, but I think I’ll just keep its location to myself. Well? Are you going to make a counter-offer?’

‘Polanna just did. Twenty bars.’

‘Five,’ I countered.

‘I could go as low as fifteen, I suppose.’

‘Ridiculous!’ I retorted. ‘I could buy this whole tavern and everybody in it for fifteen bars. Let’s be realistic here, friend. She’s only a woman, after all.’

We haggled about it for an hour or so, and Pol’s eyes got flintier by the moment. We finally settled on twelve. Then we each spit on our hands, smacked our palms together, and the deal was struck. I stood up. ‘All right, girl,’ I said to my daughter, ‘let’s go to Drasnia.’

‘I have some things I need to pick up,’ she replied, gathering up her share of the gold.

‘Leave them behind.’

‘Not on your life, old man. You bought me. You didn’t buy my possessions. It’s just a short way to Gallak’s house. It won’t take me long.’ She turned and strutted out of the tavern with every eye upon her as she went.

‘Spirited, isn’t she?’ I noted mildly.

‘Indeed she is,’ Gallak agreed. ‘To be honest with you, friend, I’m just as happy to be rid of her. You know your future king better than I do, but you might want to consider some other gift. His gratitude might go downhill after a few weeks with Polanna.’

‘She’ll be just fine, Gallak. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.’ I picked up my much-lighter saddle-bags and went back out into the street.

Polgara’s eyes were steely when she returned. ‘I wasn’t particularly amused by your performance in there, old man,’ she said. ‘It was very insulting.’

‘I thought I pulled it off fairly well. Do you want to give me back my gold?’

‘Oh, no, father. That gold is mine now.’

I sighed. ‘All right Pol,’ I gave up. ‘If that’s the way you feel about it. Let’s find a stable. I’ll buy you a horse and we can get started.’

After we rode out of Yar Nadrak, Pol and I were able to speak more freely. ‘Did you find the people you were looking for?’ I asked her.

‘Of course I did,’ she replied. ‘I wouldn’t have sent for you if I hadn’t.’

‘Who are they?’

‘One of them is Drosta lek Thun himself.’

‘The Nadrak king?’ That was surprising.

She nodded. ‘Drosta’s a very complicated fellow, and he seems bent on getting out from under the thumb of the Grolims. He wants to turn his kingdom into a secular society. He’s devious and has no principles whatsoever, but he does want what’s best for his country.’

‘Who’s the other one?’

‘A fellow named Yarblek. He’s a descendant of someone you used to know, I believe.’

‘You mean Rablek?’

‘Of course. Nothing ever really happens by chance, father.’

I made a face. ‘I get so tired of that,’ I said.

‘I’d have thought you’d be used to it by now. Yarblek’s a businessman - of sorts. He’s young, but he’s already so unscrupulous that he’s building quite a reputation. I think that when the time comes, he’ll help us - if the price is right. You do have more of that gold, don’t you, father?’