Father and Darion got on well together. Darion had the good sense to listen to the Old Wolf’s advice, and father approved of that. I’m quite sure that Darion had some reservations about changing trades in Kotu. For Darion, it was the furniture that was important, not the decorations on it, so becoming a wood-carver was a definite step down in his view of things. Father cut across the objections with characteristic directness. ‘Wouldn’t you say that staying alive is more important than some obscure sense of artistic integrity?’ he asked.

That more or less stifled Darion’s objections.

Father remained with us in Kotu until we got settled in. He dragooned us into changing our names and concocted a hair-dye – which, incidentally, didn’t work – to hide the tell-tale lock in my hair, and then he left. My father’s a walking legend, and no amount of disguising himself or assuming false names will ever hide his true identity for very long. It was safer for all of us after he moved on.

Selana gave birth to a son the following spring, and Darion – rather shrewdly, I thought – broke with tradition by giving his infant son a Drasnian name rather than a Rivan or Sendarian one. The child’s name was Khelan, and that jarred my sense of the way things ought to be just a bit. Looking back over the centuries, I can only think of two other times when a local name was appended to one of Iron-grip’s descendants. Anonymity’s all very well and good, I suppose, but really –

It was not long after Khelan’s birth that a voice came to me during the night, and this time it wasn’t mother’s voice.

‘Are you awake, Pol?’ father asked me.

‘I am now,’ I replied. ‘What’s afoot, father?’

‘I’m at the Arendish Fair, and I’ve just had an absolutely fascinating discussion with Ctuchik.’

‘What’s he doing at the Arendish Fair?’

‘Looking for you, actually. He yearns for your company.’

‘And he’s eavesdropping on you right now. Very clever, father.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Pol. I know how to keep him from hearing me when I do this. Don’t get any ideas about moving back to Sendaria for a while. Sendaria’s mine right now.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Ctuchik’s got an underling named Chamdar. He’s moderately gifted, and Ctuchik’s nailed him to my backside.’

‘That’s gross, father.’

‘I’m just a plain-spoken country boy, Pol. I say it the way it is. Chamdar’s going to be as close to me as my shadow. Ctuchik’s convinced that I know where you are and that I periodically drop in on you. Chamdar’s following me in order to find you.’

‘What’s this got to do with where I choose to live?’

‘You’ve been detected in Sendaria from time to time, Pol, so Ctuchik considers Sendaria to be your natural habitat. I’m going to play a little game with Chamdar for a while, and I don’t want you cluttering up the playing field.’

‘Why not just kill him and get him out of the way?’

‘I know this Chamdar and what he looks like. I’d rather have a familiar face on my trail than a total stranger. I’ll lead him around Sendaria until he gets to know every back lane and country crossroad in the whole silly kingdom – intimately. He’ll be so sure that you’re still there that the Alorn kingdoms won’t ever cross his mind. Just give me some room, Pol. I’ll keep Chamdar out of your hair.’

‘Don’t you have better things to do?’

‘Not really. What you’re doing is only slightly less important than the cracking of the world was. This is my little contribution to your task.’ Then he gave vent to an evil-sounding chuckle.

‘What’s so humorous?’

‘I’m going to have a lot of fun with this, Pol. I think that if you listen very carefully, you’ll be able to hear Chamdar’s howls of frustration many many times over the next several centuries. Just stay out of Sendaria, and I’ll guarantee your safety.’

‘Where are you going now?’

‘I think I’ll lead Chamdar to Tol Honeth for a while – give him a taste of luxury before he has to start living in gutters.’ He laughed again. ‘Ctuchik’s been kind enough to provide me with a tail. Just to show him what I think of it, I think I’ll drag it through the mud for a while. Sleep well, Pol.’

That’s my father for you.

Part Six:

Vo Mimbre

Chapter 29

Although father made light of Chamdar’s arrival in the west, he obviously took Ctuchik’s underling very seriously. Chamdar was no ordinary Grolim driven by fear and mindless obedience. He was shrewd, ambitious, and very clever. In some respects he was even more dangerous than Ctuchik himself.

Looking back on the early years of my task, I’m forced to concede that my preoccupation with Sendaria and its people had lured me into a grave error. I’d been unwilling to set aside my previous duty when I’d accepted my new one, so I’d always chosen to conceal Iron-grip’s heirs inside Sendaria’s borders. That had simplified things for Ctuchik’s Grolims by narrowing their field of search. After a few years they knew that they didn’t have to look for me in Arendia or Tolnedra, because I was always in Sendaria.

Father peremptorily corrected my mistake by banishing me from the place I loved. I looked upon the four and a half centuries I was forced to live in the Alorn kingdoms as a period of exile, but I did learn to ignore national boundaries during those interminable years. I still yearned to return to Sendaria, though. I’d invested a large part of my life in that land and even though I no longer ruled the nation which had grown out of my former duchy, I still liked to be in place to deal with anything that might possibly start to fall apart. Duties can sometimes be very much like a pair of comfortable old shoes. We’re reluctant to put them aside even when we have new ones.

Although I wasn’t really at ease in Kotu, Darion and Selana were young, and they soon adjusted to life there. Their newborn son had a Drasnian name, and their costume was now Drasnian. Fortunately, morality isn’t like costume. You don’t put it on and take it off. Deep down where it really counted, Darion and Selana were still Sendars. Darion didn’t swindle his customers, and Selana didn’t involve herself in the backbiting and scheming of the neighborhood ladies. Drasnians are obsessed with social status, I’ve noticed. The trait may even have its source in Dras himself. Bull-neck never let his brothers forget that he was the firstborn of Bear-shoulders. Drasnian ladies frequently try to elevate their own social status by bringing down the current social lioness – usually by inventing clever lies about her. Selana chose not to participate, and she made that very clear. For some reason, not one neighbor lady ever tried to entertain me with gossip. Isn’t that peculiar?




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