Polgara the Sorceress

‘Do you have any other surprises up your sleeve, Polgara?’ he murmured in reply. ‘I almost lost my grip when that Murgo’s forehead sprouted feathers.’

‘I rather thought you might like it. I’m going to examine the duke, and my diagnosis is going to be that he’s temporarily lost control of his senses.’

‘Temporarily?’

“That’s an interim diagnosis, Mangaran. It’ll serve as an excuse for us to transport him to the monastery. We’ll pull long faces and talk about lingering after effects later. You’re going to have to identify me when you make your announcement, my Lord. Introduce me, and I’ll advise the courtiers of my findings. My name’s known well enough that nobody’s going to argue with me. I’ll tell them that the duke needs a safe place for his recovery, and then you suggest the monastery. It’s a logical place – peace, quiet, security, and lots of monks around to see to his needs. We’d better get on with this, Earl Mangaran. I want him inside that monastery before the Marquis Torandin’s party breaks up. I don’t want any unrestrained creativity about alternatives cropping up. Once the duke’s safely tucked in that monastery, we can protest that it’s unsafe to move him.’

‘You’ve covered just about everything, haven’t you, Polgara?’

‘I’ve certainly tried. Look worried while I examine his Grace.’

‘Why should I worry? You’ve tied up all the loose ends.’

‘Simulate worry, Mangaran. Let’s move right along here.’

Oldoran was still gaping at the illusion I’d set before his eyes and gibbering in terror as I leaned over to examine him. His breath was acrid, and his entire body exuded the foul reek of the confirmed drunkard. Getting that close to him wasn’t pleasant. Given his current condition, I didn’t have to be too subtle when I probed at his mind. There wasn’t very much of it left, as I recall. Then I continued to probe, moving systematically through his major organs. His liver, naturally, was almost in ruins, and his kidneys were right on the verge of shutting down completely. His arteries were almost clogged shut, and his heart was faltering. My original estimate that he had no more than six months to live might have been just a little optimistic.

‘Very well, my Lord Mangaran,’ I said in a professional tone of voice for the benefit of the others in the room. ‘I’ve finished my examination. His Grace is in a serious condition – quite possibly even critical. He needs complete rest and quiet. Someone else will have to assume his duties until he recovers.’

‘I shall so advise the court, my Lady,’ he assured me, also speaking for the others in the rooms. ‘I am not a physician, however. Might I prevail upon you to describe his Grace’s condition to the court?’

‘Of course, my Lord.’ Then we went back out into the hub-bub of the throne room, leaving the door slightly ajar so that the courtiers could hear Oldoran’s screaming.

Mangaran went to the throne, glanced briefly at the sprawled body of the Murgo in the Tolnedran mantle, and raised his voice to address the crowd. ‘My Lords and Ladies,’ he said in a tone filled with feigned concern, ‘his Grace’s condition is, I’m afraid, far more serious than we’d imagined. The shock of this foul attempt upon his life has aggravated an illness which none of us has suspected.’ He made a rueful face. ‘I’m not well-versed in the functions of the human body,’ he confessed. ‘I’m not even exactly sure how my blood gets from one place to another. Fortunately, a visitor to Vo Astur is among the finest physicians in all the world. She has examined his Grace and has reached certain conclusions, which she has agreed to share with us. The lady in question has a towering reputation, and I’m certain that most of you have heard of her. My Lords and Ladies, may I present the Lady Polgara, daughter of Ancient Belgarath.’

There were all the usual gasps of astonishment – and disbelief – and they were followed by some dubious applause.

I stepped to Mangaran’s side. ‘My Lords and Ladies,’ I began. ‘I’d not intended to make my presence here in Vo Astur public, but the current crisis requires me to come forward to make certain things known to you. Your duke is gravely ill, and this heartless attempt on his life has exacerbated his condition.’ I paused – just a bit theatrically, I suppose. ‘As you can hear, your duke is a bit distraught just now.’ I glanced back toward the door to the room where the duke was still screaming. ‘His grace is suffering from a rare condition known as interstitial conjunctive morbialis, which afflicts not only the body, but the mind as well. In short, his Grace hovers on the verge of total physical and mental collapse.’

Don’t bother tearing medical texts apart looking for ‘interstitial conjunctive morbialis’. You won’t find it, since it’s pure gibberish that I made up right there on the spot.

It sounds absolutely awful, though, doesn’t it?

‘Can it be cured, Lady Polgara?’ Asrana asked me.

‘I can’t be certain,’ I replied. “The malady is so rare that there probably haven’t been more than a half-dozen cases since the disease was first identified over a century ago.’

‘What course of treatment would you advise, Lady Polgara?’ Mangaran asked me.

‘The duke must have total rest and quiet,’ I replied. ‘I’d advise removing him from the palace here to some secure place where he’ll be safe from further attempts on his life and where he can have absolute rest. If he remains here in the palace, the affairs of state will inevitably begin to intrude upon him, and he’ll die.’

‘Die?’ Asrana gasped. ‘Is it that serious?’

‘Probably even more so,’ I replied. ‘His life hangs by a thread.’ I turned to Earl Mangaran. ‘Is there some nearby place where his Grace might be taken to begin his recovery?’ I asked. ‘A place such as I’ve just described?’

‘Well,–’ He said it just a bit dubiously. “There’s a monastery about an hour’s ride from here, Lady Polgara. It has high walls, and the monks there spend most of their lives in silent meditation. It’s secure, certainly, and it is quiet.’

I pretended to think about it. ‘It might serve our purposes.’ I didn’t want to sound too enthusiastic.

‘And who will assume his Grace’s duties during his recovery?’ one of our ‘patriots’ demanded.