Polgara the Sorceress. David Eddings

the Rivans began to look at their youthful Prince Regent with a new respect. Daran was working out just fine.

       Chapter 11

      Anrak sailed into the harbor late the following summer. Over the years I’d noted that Anrak moved around a lot. Most men settle down eventually, but Anrak was born to wander. The cousin of Iron-grip, Bull-neck, and Fleet-foot had grey hair by now, but there was still an irrepressible quality of youth about him. He visited with Riva for quite some time and then joined Kamion, Daran, and me in a blue-draped conference chamber high in one of the towers of the Citadel. As Kamion’s seemingly endless succession of children had begun to spill over into his study, it had become necessary for us to find another place to work. ‘My cousin’s not going to get over his wife’s death, is he, Pol?’ Anrak asked as we all sat at a long conference table. ‘He talks about old times, but he doesn’t seem to even mention anything that’s happened recently. It’s almost as if his life ended when your sister died.’

      ‘In many ways it did, Anrak,’ I told him, ‘and mine very nearly did, too.’

      He sighed. ‘I’ve seen it happen before, Pol. It’s too bad.’ He sighed again and then looked at Daran. ‘How’s he doing?’ he asked as if Daran weren’t sitting right there.

      ‘We have some hopes for him,’ Kamion replied. Then he recounted the story of the flogging.

      ‘Good for you, Daran,’ Anrak said approvingly. ‘Oh, before I forget, my uncle Bear-shoulders asked me to pass something along to you.’

      ‘How is he?’ Daran asked.

      Anrak shrugged. ‘Old,’ he said. ‘You still wouldn’t want to cross him, though. He’s having trouble with the Bear-Cult, and he wanted me to warn you about it.’ He leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘Back in the old days, the Cult didn’t really have any kind of coherent system of beliefs. All they were really doing was trying to find some theological justification for pillaging the southern kingdoms. That all changed after Belgarath and the others took the Orb back from Torak, though. Now they want Riva – or his successor – to lead them south with that flaming sword. Right now, Riva’s at the very center of what the Cultists choose to call their religion.’

      ‘We’ve had some problems here, too,’ Kamion noted. ‘Elthek, the Rivan Deacon, leads the Cult here on the Isle. Since he’s the high priest of Belar, we have to step around him rather carefully. Iron-grip didn’t want any direct confrontations with the Church, so he didn’t step on the Deacon’s neck the way he probably should have.’

      ‘I’m not nearly as accommodating as my father is,’ Daran noted. The time’s not far off when I’m going to kill Elthek.’

      ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ Anrak asked.

      ‘I’ll change the law,’ Daran replied.

      I looked at him rather closely and saw that it was almost time to pull him up short. My nephew, emboldened by his success with Garhein and Altor, hovered right on the verge of becoming a tyrant.

      ‘Is Bull-neck having the same problems in Drasnia?’ Kamion asked Anrak.

      ‘It’s even worse there,’ Anrak replied moodily. ‘After Fleet-foot trampled all over the Cult in Algaria, the survivors fled into the fens and then into the border country off toward Gar og Nadrak. The Cult controls virtually everything east of Boktor.’

      ‘I’d say that the core of the problem’s here, then,’ Kamion observed. ‘This is where the Orb is, and if the Cult can gain control of the Orb’s Guardian, we’ll all be marching south before long.’

      ‘You could solve that by making every priest of Belar here on the Isle swim back to Val Alorn,’ Anrak said with an evil grin.

      ‘In full armor,’ Daran added.

      ‘No.’ I said it firmly. ‘Some of those priests are innocent, and people need the comforts of religion. I do think that Kamion’s right, though. We don’t want the Cult so close to the Orb.’

      ‘What’s the alternative to extermination, Aunt Pol?’ Daran asked.

      ‘Exile?’ Kamion suggested.

      ‘You aren’t going to be popular in Val Alorn and Boktor if you send them a fresh wave of fanatics,’ Anrak said.

      ‘I wasn’t thinking of that,’ Kamion told him. ‘I want these home-grown Cultists someplace where we can keep an eye on them.’

      ‘Dungeons are good for that,’ Anrak said.

      ‘It costs too much money to keep people locked up,’ Daran objected. Why is it that every ruler in the world spends all his time worrying about money? Then my nephew’s eyes brightened. ‘Lord Brand,’ he said, ‘do you remember what I threatened Garhein and Altor with last summer?’

      ‘Sending them to the northern end of the Isle, you mean?’

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘The Cultists would just shed their vestments and sneak back, your Highness.’

      ‘It’s a little hard to sneak across open water, Kamion,’ Daran laughed. ‘There are some little islets strung out above the main Isle. If we send all the cultists up there, we won’t have to worry about them any more.’

      ‘They’re Alorns, your Highness,’ Kamion reminded him. ‘Boat-building’s in their blood.’

      ‘What are they going to build boats out of, my Lord?’

      Trees, I’d imagine.’

      There won’t be any trees on those islets, Kamion. I’ll have all the trees cut down before we exile the Cult.’

      ‘You’re still going to have to feed them, Daran,’ Anrak said.

      ‘They can feed themselves. We’ll give them seed, animals, and farm tools, and they can either take up farming or starve.’

      Anrak’s grin grew broader. ‘It’s got some possibilities,’ he agreed. ‘You’ll have to patrol the coast of their private little prison to keep their adherents from rowing boats across the water to rescue them, though.’

      ‘I think I can persuade my grandfather Cherek to handle that for me. He doesn’t want any more Cult priests in Val Alorn, so I’m sure he’ll want to keep our Cultists here. He’s got ships out there to hold off the Angaraks anyway, so it won’t really cost him anything extra.’

      “The only thing left is to find an excuse for it,’ Kamion told them.

      ‘Any cooked-up story would work, wouldn’t it?’ Anrak asked.

      Kamion winced. ‘Let’s try for a little authenticity, Anrak. Lies get out of hand sometimes. You have to keep expanding them.’

      ‘Maybe we could catch them during one of their secret ceremonies,’ Anrak suggested. “They’re fairly offensive to decent people.’

      ‘Oh?’ Daran said. ‘What’s involved?’

      Anrak shrugged. ‘They all put on bear-skins and get roaring drunk. Their wives and daughters don’t wear anything at all, and there’s a lot of indiscriminate–’ He hesitated, looked at me, and then he actually blushed. ‘Anyway,’ he rushed on, ‘the priests perform what they call magic, which isn’t really anything but fairly clumsy carnival trickery, and – ’

      ‘Perfect!’ I exclaimed.

      ‘I didn’t follow that, Aunt Pol,’ Daran said.

      ‘Didn’t Elthek persuade your father to outlaw witchcraft?’

      ‘Well – yes, I suppose so. It was really just a way to keep the physicians from curing illnesses, though – getting