Belgarath the Sorcerer and Polgara the Sorceress: 2-Book Collection. David Eddings

night, and he gave me some very peculiar instructions. He seemed to think they were important, but they didn’t make very much sense to me.

      As Poledra had pointed out, I’m not really very good with tools, and the task my Master set me involved some very tiny, meticulous work. Fortunately, I had a fair number of Tolnedran silver imperials in my purse, so I didn’t have to go up into the mountains in search of ore deposits. Free gold isn’t too hard to find, but refining silver is a lot of work.

      The sculpture itself wasn’t too hard – once I got used to using those tiny little tools – but making the chains was very tedious.

      It was autumn by the time I finished, and then one evening I completed the last clasp. ‘Beldaran,’ I called my blonde daughter.

      ‘Yes, father?’ she replied, looking up from her sewing. I’d taught her to read, of course, but she preferred sewing.

      ‘I have something for you.’

      She came over eagerly. ‘What is it?’

      ‘Here.’ I held out the silver amulet I’d made for her.

      ‘Oh, father! It’s lovely!’

      ‘Try it on.’

      She draped it around her neck, fastened the clasp, and flew to the mirror. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘that’s exquisite!’ She peered at the reflection a little more closely. ‘It’s Polgara’s tree, isn’t it?’

      ‘That’s what it’s supposed to be.’

      ‘It means something, doesn’t it?’

      ‘Probably. I’m not sure exactly what, though. The Master told me to make them, but he didn’t bother to explain.’

      ‘Shouldn’t this one be for Pol? It’s her tree, after all.’

      ‘The tree was there a long time before Polgara was, Beldaran.’ I held up another of the amulets. ‘This one’s hers.’

      She looked at it. ‘An owl? What a peculiar thing to give to Pol.’

      ‘It wasn’t my idea.’ I’d suffered a great deal sculpting that owl. It raised a lot of memories.

      Yes, Durnik, I know I could have cast them, but the Master told me to sculpt them instead.

      I knew what my amulet meant, and it was easy. I’d taken the form of a wolf so often that I could have carved that one with my eyes closed. I put it on, sighed, and snapped the clasp.

      ‘Ah – father?’ Beldaran said, her hands at the back of her neck.

      ‘Yes, dear?’

      ‘Something’s wrong with the clasp. It won’t come undone.’

      ‘It isn’t supposed to, Beldaran. You’re not supposed to take it off.’

      ‘Not ever?’

      ‘Not ever. The Master wants us to wear them always.’

      ‘That might be a little awkward sometimes.’

      ‘Oh, I think we can manage. We’re a family, Beldaran. The amulets are supposed to remind us of that – among other things.’

      ‘Does Polgara’s amulet lock, too?’

      ‘I hope so. I built it to lock.’

      She giggled.

      ‘What’s so funny?’

      ‘I don’t think she’s going to like that, father. If you lock something around her neck, she’s probably going to be very unhappy about it.’

      I winked at her. ‘Maybe we’d better wait to tell her until after she’s got it locked in place, then.’

      ‘Why don’t we?’ she said, rolling her eyes roguishly. Then she giggled again, threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me.

      Beldaran and I went down to the tree the next morning to give Polgara her amulet.

      ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’ she demanded.

      ‘You’re supposed to wear it,’ I told her.

      ‘Why?’

      I was getting a little tired of this. ‘It’s not my idea, Pol,’ I told her. ‘I made the amulets because Aldur told me to make them. Now put it on and stop all this foolishness. It’s time for us all to grow up.’

      She gave me a peculiar look and fastened her amulet about her neck.

      ‘And now we are three,’ Beldaran said warmly.

      ‘Amazing,’ Polgara said tartly. ‘You do know how to count.’

      ‘Don’t be nasty,’ Beldaran told her. ‘I know that you’re more clever than I am, Polgara. You don’t have to hit me over the head with it. Now come back home where you belong.’

      I could have berated Pol for months on end about that, and she probably would have ignored me. When Beldaran said it, though, she agreed without any argument. And so we went back to the tower and set up housekeeping.

      Things were relatively peaceful, oddly enough. Beldaran managed to keep Polgara and me from each other’s throats, at least, and could persuade her to wear her amulet, when Pol found a way to circumvent my lock. My blonde daughter had been right. Polgara was much more intelligent than she was. This is not to say that Beldaran was stupid. It was just that Pol’s one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever known – bad-tempered, of course, but extremely intelligent.

      I’m sorry, Pol, but you are. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

      As soon as she got to the tower, Pol took over in the kitchen. Beltira and Belkira had taught her how to cook, and she absolutely loved the business of preparing food. She was very good at it, too. I’ve never really paid all that much attention to what I eat, but when every meal that’s set before you is a banquet, you start to notice it.

      This is not to say that everything was all sweetness and light. Pol and I did have an occasional spat.

      You know, that’s one of the silliest words in any language. Spat: It sounds like something gooey hitting the floor.

      This all went on for about three years, and during that time Polgara and I began to develop a pattern that we’ve more or less faithfully followed for over three thousand years now. She makes clever comments about my various habits, and I generally ignore them. We don’t scream at each other, and we seldom swear. It’s not so much that we don’t want to on occasion, but we learned to behave ourselves out of consideration for Beldaran.

      It was not long after the girls’ sixteenth birthday when Aldur paid me another visit. Pol and I had gotten into a fairly serious argument that evening. In passing, I’d mentioned the fact that it was about time for her to learn how to read. You wouldn’t believe how much that offended her.

      ‘Are you calling me stupid?’ she demanded in that rich voice of hers, and things went rapidly downhill from there. To this day I don’t know why it made her so angry.

      Anyway, I went to bed in a foul temper, and I slept fitfully.

      ‘Belgarath, my son,’ I knew the voice, of course.

      ‘Yes, Master?’

      ‘I would have thine house joined with the house of the guardian of the Orb.’

      ‘Is it a Necessity, Master?’

      ‘Yea, my beloved disciple. This, however, is the gravest task I have ever called upon thee to perform. From the joining of thine house with the house of the Rivan King shall descend the ultimate Child of Light. Choose, therefore, which of thy daughters thou shalt give to the Rivan King to be his wife, for in the joining of the two houses shall a line invincible be forged that shall join my Will with the Will of my brother, Belar, and Torak himself may not prevail