An excerpt from a new book, downloaded from the
           Internet and sent in by Alex van Kaam

        POLGARA by David and Leigh Eddings - Part 1

Prologue

Kail, the Rivan Warder, objected strenuously when King Belgarion
told him that he and his queen planned to make the journey to the
northern end of the Vale of Aldur unattended, but Garion
uncharacteristically put his foot down. "It's a family gathering,
Kail. Ce'Nedra and I don't need a cluster of servants under foot.
They'd just be in the way."

"But it's dangerous, Your Majesty."

"I rather doubt that anything'll turn up that I can't handle, old
friend," Garion told him. "We're going alone." The Rivan Queen was
a bit startled by the firmness in Garion's voice.

Then there was the argument about fur. Queen Ce'Nedra was
Tolnedran by birth and Dryad by heritage. Those backgrounds are
both southern, and the notion of wearing animal skins made
Ce'Nedra's flesh creep. Garion, however, was at least partially
Alorn, and he'd traveled extensively in the north in the
wintertime.  "You're going to wear fur, Ce'Nedra," he adamantly
told his tiny wife, "because if you don't we aren't going anywhere
until the weather warms up." Garion seldom delivered ultimatums to
her, and Ce'Nedra was shrewd enough not to argue about the matter
any further. She obediently dressed herself in Alorn fur garments,
spoke at some length with the nurse who would oversee the royal
children during her absence, and then she and her husband left the
Isle of the Winds aboard the disreputable Captain Greldik's
dubious ship on the morning tide.

They purchased horses and supplies in Camaar and set out toward
the east. The regularly spaced Tolnedran hostels along the highway
to Muros provided adequate lodgings each night, but after Muros,
they were largely on their own. The Rivan King, however, had spent
a great deal of time living out in the open, and his little wife
was forced to concede that he was adequate when the time came to
set up camp.

The Rivan Queen was realistic enough to know just how ridiculous
she looked while gathering firewood in those camps.  The bulky fur
garments she wore gave her a roly-poly appearance, her flaming red
hair streamed down her back, and because of her size she could
only carry a few sticks at a time. The unwanted image of a
red-haired beaver trudging through the snow came to her quite
often.

The snow was deep in the Sendarian mountains, and it seemed to
Ce'Nedra that her feet would never be warm again. She could not
give her husband the satisfaction of admitting that, however.
This trek was her idea, after all, and she'd have sooner died than
admit that it might have been a mistake.

Ce'Nedra was like that sometimes.


It was snowing lightly and was bitterly cold when they came down
out of the mountains and rode south across the snowy plains of
Algaria. Although it definitely went against her grain to confess
it, even privately, Ce'Nedra was actually glad that her husband
had been so insistent about dressing warmly.

And then, as a chill evening was settling over southern Algaria
and lowering clouds were spitting tiny pellets of snow, they
topped a rise and saw the little valley on the northern edge of
the Vale of Aldur where Poledra's cottage and the surrounding
outbuildings lay. The cottage had been there for eons, of course,
but the barns and sheds were Durnik's additions, and they gave the
place the appearance of a Sendarian farmstead.

Ce'Nedra wasn't really interested in comparative architecture at
that point, however. All she really wanted to do was to get out of
the cold. "Do they know that we're coming?" she asked her husband,
her breath steaming in the biting cold.


"Yes," Garion replied. "I told Aunt Pol that we were on the way a
couple of days ago."

"Sometimes you're a very useful fellow to have around, Your
Majesty," Ce'Nedra smiled.

"Your Majesty is too kind." His reply was a bit flippant.

"Oh, Garion." They both laughed as their weary mounts trudged down
the hill.

The cottage --- they'd always called it that, though in actuality
it was growing to be a fairly large house --- nestled at the side
of an icebound little stream, and the snow was piled up to the
bottom of the windows. There was a kind of golden invitation about
the way the soft lamplight spilled out across the snow, and the
column of blue smoke from the central chimney rose straight up
toward the threatening sky. The Rivan Queen definitely approved of
that indication that warmth and comfort were no more than a
quarter mile away.

And then the low door opened, and Durnik stepped out into the
dooryard. "What kept you?" he called up to them. "We were
expecting you along about noon."

"We hit some deep snow," Garion called back. "It was slow going
there for a while."

"Hurry on down, Garion. Let's get Ce'Nedra in out of this cold."
What a dear man he was!

Ce'Nedra and her husband rode into the snowy dooryard and swung
down from their saddles.

"Go inside, both of you," Durnik instructed. "I'll see to your
horses."

"I'll help with that," Garion offered. "I can unsaddle a horse
almost as well as you can, and I need to stretch my legs anyway."
He took Ce'Nedra by the arm and guided her to the doorway. "I'll
be right back, Aunt Pol," he called inside. "I want to help Durnik
with the horses."

"As you wish, dear," the Lady Polgara replied. Her voice was rich
and filled with love. "Come in here, Ce'Nedra. Let's get you
warm."

The Rivan Queen almost ran inside, hurled herself into the arms of
Polgara the Sorceress, and kissed her soundly.

"Your nose is cold, Ce'Nedra," Polgara observed.

"You should feel my feet, Aunt Pol," Ce'Nedra replied with a
little laugh. "How can you stand the winters here?"

"I grew up here, dear, remember? I'm used to the weather."

Ce'Nedra looked around. "Where are the twins?"


"They're down for their afternoon nap. We'll get them up for
supper. Let's get you out of those furs and over to the fireplace.
As soon as you warm up a little, I've got water heating, and you
can have a nice hot bath."

"Oh, yes!" the Rivan Queen replied fervently.

Part of the diffficulty with Alorn fur garments lies in the fact
that they don't have buttons, so they're customarily tied on.
Undoing frozen knots can be quite a chore, particularly if one's
fingers are stiff with cold. And so it was that Ce'Nedra was
almost forced simply to stand in the center of the room with her
arms outstretched while Polgara removed her outer garments. Then,
once the furs were off, the Rivan Queen went to the fireplace and
stretched her hands out to the crackling flames.

"Not too close, dear," Polgara warned. "Don't burn yourself. How
does a nice hot cup of tea sound?"

"Heavenly!"

After Ce'Nedra had drunk her tea and soaked in a tub of steaming
water for about a halfhour, she actually began to feel warm again.
Then she dressed in a plain gown and returned to the kitchen to
help feed the twins. Polgara's children were a year old now, and
they'd begun to walk --- although not very well. They also seemed
to have some difficulty managing their spoons, and quite a bit of
their supper ended up on the floor. The twins had flaxen, curly
hair, and they were absolutely adorable. Their vocabulary was very
limited --- at least in any language Ce'Nedra could understand.
They talked to each other extensively in some strange tongue,
however.

"They're speaking 'twin'" Polgara explained. "Its not uncommon.
Each set of twins develops its own private language. Beldaran and
I spoke to each other in 'twin' until we were about five. It used
to drive poor Uncle Beldin wild."

Ce'Nedra looked around. "Where are Garion and Durnik?"

"Durnik's made some more improvements," Polgara replied. "I'd
imagine he's showing them off. He's added several rooms at the
back of the cottage, so at least you and Garion won't have to
sleep in the loft." She carefully wiped the chin of one of the
twins.  "Messy person." she chided gently. The child giggled.
"Now, then, what's this all about, Ce'Nedra? Why did you make this
trip in the dead of winter?"

"Have you read Belgarath's story yet?" Ce'Nedra asked.

"Yes. It was characteristically long-winded, I thought."

"You won't get any argument from me about that. How could he
possibly have written that much down in under a year?"

"Father has certain advantages, Ce'Nedra. If he'd actually had to
write it, it'd probably have taken him much, much longer."

"Maybe that's why he left so many things out."

"I don't exactly follow you, dear." Polgara gently wiped the face
of the second twin and then set them both down on the floor.

"For someone who pretends to be a professional storyteller, he
certainly did a third-rate job."

"He more or less covered everything that happened, I thought."

"There are some awfully large gaps in that story, Aunt Pol."

"Father is seven thousand years old, Ce'Nedra. In that long a time
there were bound to be periods when nothing was happening."

"He didn't go into anything that happened to you, though. He
didn't say very much about those years you spent at Vo Wacune or
what you did in Gar og Nadrak or any of those other places. I want
to know what you did."

"What on earth for?"

"I want the whole story, Aunt Pol. He left so much out."

"You're as bad as Garion was. He always used to badger my father
for more details every time the old wolf told him a story."
Polgara broke off abruptly. "Away from the fireplace!" she said
sharply to the twins.

They giggled, but they did as they were told. Ce'Nedra gathered
that it was a game of sorts. "Anyway," she picked up the thread of
her thought. "Belgarath sent some letters when he had those last
few chapters delivered to Rival. The letter he sent to me is what
gave me the idea of coming here to talk with you. First he accused
us all of getting together and bullying him into writing the
history. He said that he knew there were gaps in the story, but he
suggested that you could fill them in."

"How typical," Polgara murmured. "My father's an expert at
starting things and then tricking others into finishing them for
him.  Well, this time he's out of luck. Forget it, Ce'Nedra. I

don't pretend to be a storyteller, and I've got better things to
do with my time."

"But --- "

"No buts, dear. Now, go call Garion and Durnik in for supper."

Ce'Nedra was shrewd enough not to raise the issue again, but a way
around Polgara's refusal had already begun to form in her devious
little mind.

"Garion, dear," she said when she and her husband were in bed
later that night in the warm and comfortable darkness.

"Yes, Ce'Nedra?"

"You can reach out and talk to your grandfather, can't you?"

"I suppose so. Why?"

"Wouldn't you like to see him --- and your grandmother? I mean,
we're this close anyway, and it's not really very far from
Belgarath's tower to the cottage here, and they'd be terribly
disappointed if we let this opportunity for a visit slip by,
wouldn't they?"

"What are you up to, Ce'Nedra?"

"Why must I always be 'up to' something?"

"You usually are."

"That's not very nice, Garion. Isn't it just possible that all I
want is a family reunion?"

"I'm sorry. Maybe I misjudged you."

"Well --- actually, your aunt Pol's being a little stubborn about
this. I'm going to need some help convincing her to write her
story."

"Grandfather won't help you. He already told you that in his
letter."

"I'm not talking about help from him. I want to talk to Poledra.
Aunt Pol will listen to her mother. Please Garion." She said it in
her most winsome and appealing tone.

"All right, I'll talk it over with Durnik and see what he thinks."

"Why don't you let me talk with Durnik? I'm sure I can persuade
him that it's a good idea." She nuzzled at her husband's neck
affectionately. "I'm nice and warm now, Garion," she said
invitingly.

"Yes, I noticed that."

"Are you really very sleepy?"

"Not that sleepy, dear." and he turned to embrace her.


This wouldn't be terribly difficult, Ce'Nedra decided. She was an
expert at getting her own way, and she was confident that she
could get Garion and Durnik to agree with her plan. Poledra, on
the other hand, might take a little more work.

Garion, as he usually did, slipped quietly out of bed before it
was even light. The Rivan King had grown up on a farm, and farmers
habitually rise early. Ce'Nedra decided that it might not be a bad
idea to keep track of him for the next couple of days. A chance
conversation between her husband and Durnik might disrupt her plan
--- Ce'Nedra deliberately avoided the word "scheme." So she
touched the fingertips of her right hand to Beldaran's amulet and
searched with her mind for Garion.

"Oh, hush." It was Durnik's voice, and it was peculiarly gentle.
"It's only me. Go back to sleep. I'll feed you later."


There was a muttering, some soft, grumbling sounds --- birds of
some kind, Ce'Nedra judged. Then they clucked a bit and settled
back down again.

"Do you always talk to them that way?" It was Garion's voice.

"It keeps them from getting excited and flying off in the dark and
hurting themselves," Durnik replied. "They insist on roosting in
that tree right here in the dooryard, and I have to pass that tree
every morning. They know me now, so I can usually persuade them to
settle down again. Birds pick these things up fairly quickly. The
deer take a little longer, and the rabbits are timid and very
flighty."

"You feed them all, don't you, Durnik?"

"They live here, too, Garion, and this farm produces more food
than Pol and I and the babies can possibly eat. Besides, that's
one of the reasons we're here, isn't it? The birds and the deer

and the rabbits can look out for themselves in the summer, but
winter's a lean time, so I help them out a bit."

He was such a good man! Ce'Nedra's eyes almost filled with tears.
Polgara could have chosen any king or emperor for a husband and
lived in a palace. She'd chosen a simple country blacksmith
instead and lived on this remote farmstead. Now Ce'Nedra knew why.

As it turned out, Durnik was fairly easy to manipulate. Ce'Nedra's
suggestion of "a little family reunion, since we're all here
anyway" brought him over to her side almost immediately. Durnik
was too innocent to suspect ulterior motives in others. It was so
easy that Ce'Nedra was almost ashamed of herself.  Garion was not
nearly so innocent. He had lived with his willful little Dryad
wife for quite a while, after all. With both Durnik and Ce'Nedra
urging the reunion, though, he didn't really have any choice. He
did cast a few suspicious looks in Ce'Nedra's direction before he
sent his thought out to his grandfather, however.
@~Concluded next issue
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