Polgara the Sorceress. David Eddings

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       Chapter 7

      It snowed on the eve of our eighteenth birthday, one of those gentle snows that settle softly to earth without making much fuss. Blizzards are very dramatic, I suppose, but there’s something restful about a quiet snow that just tucks the world in the way a mother tucks a small child into bed after a busy day.

      I awoke early, and after I’d built up the fire, I stood at one of the windows brushing my hair and watching the last of the clouds move ponderously off toward the northeast. The sun mounted above those clouds to reveal a clean, white world unmarred by a single footprint. I wondered if it had snowed on the Isle of the Winds as well and what Beldaran might be doing on ‘our’ day.

      Father was still asleep, but that wasn’t really unusual, since he’s never been an early riser. As luck had it, he wasn’t even snoring, so my morning was filled with a blessed silence that was almost like a benediction. I made a simple breakfast of porridge, tea, and bread, ate, and hung the pot on one of the iron hooks in the fireplace to keep it warm for father. Then I put on my fur cloak and went out to face the morning.

      It was not particularly cold, and the damp snow clung to every limb of the widely scattered pines in the Vale as I trudged toward the Tree and my regular morning appointment with mother. A single eagle soared high over the Vale, flying for the sheer joy of it, since no other birds or animals had ventured out yet. ‘Polgara!’ he screamed his greeting to me, dipping his wings to show his recognition. I waved to him. He was an old friend. Then he veered away, and I continued on down the Vale.

      The eternal Tree was dormant during the winter months, but he was not really asleep. I could sense his drowsy awareness as I topped the rise and looked down into his protected little valley.

      ‘You’re late, Pol,’ mother’s voice noted.

      ‘I was enjoying the scenery,’ I explained, looking back at the single line of tracks I’d left in the newly fallen snow. ‘What’s Beldaran doing this morning?’

       ‘She’s still asleep. The Rivans held a ball in her honor last night, and she and Iron-grip were up quite late.’

      ‘Were they celebrating her birthday?’

       ‘Not really. Alorns don’t make that much fuss about birthdays. Actually they were celebrating her condition.’

      ‘What condition?’

       ‘She’s going to have a baby.’

      ‘She’s what?’

       ‘Your sister’s pregnant, Polgara.’

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

       ‘I just did.’

      ‘I meant, why didn’t you tell me earlier?’

       ‘What for? She’s mated now, and mated females produce young ones. I thought you knew all about that.’

      I threw up my hands in exasperation. Sometimes mother’s attitude toward life drove me absolutely wild.

      ‘I don’t know that you need to tell him about this. He’d start getting curious about how you came to find out about it. It’s easier just to keep quiet about these things than it is to invent stories. I think we should concentrate on something new this morning. Humans have a very well-developed sense of the awful. The things that frighten them the most always seem to lurk at the back of their minds, and it’s not very hard to tap into those thoughts. Once you know what a man’s truly afraid of, he’ll cooperate if you show it to him.’

      ‘Cooperate?’

       ‘He’ll do what you tell him to do, or tell you things that you want to know. It’s easier than setting fire to his feet. Shall we get started?’

      I was melancholy for the rest of the winter. Beldaran’s pregnancy was but one more indication of our separation, and I saw no reason to be happy about it. I sighed a great deal when I was alone, but I made some effort to keep my feelings under wraps when father and the twins were around, largely to keep mother’s ongoing presence in my mind a secret.

      Then in the spring Algar and Anrak came to the Vale to bring us the news and to escort us to the Isle of the Winds.

      It took us the better part of a month to reach the Isle, and Riva himself was waiting for us on the stone wharf that jutted out into the harbor. I noted that Beldaran had finally persuaded him to shave off his beard, and I viewed that as an improvement. Then we mounted the stairs to the Citadel, and I was reunited with my sister. She was awkward-looking, but she seemed very happy.

      After they’d proudly shown us the nursery, we had a rather lavish supper and then Beldaran and I finally got the chance to be alone. She took me along the corridor that led from the royal apartments to a polished door that opened into those rooms Beldaran and I had shared before her wedding to Iron-grip. I noted that there had been a number of modifications. The hanging drapes that covered the bleak stone walls were almost universally blue now, and the golden lambskin rugs had been replaced with white ones. The furnishings were of heavy, dark-polished wood, and all the seats were deeply cushioned. The fireplace was no longer just СКАЧАТЬ