Читать книгу Belgarath the Sorcerer - David Eddings - Страница 17

He came in from the west, and at first we thought he was a blind man because he had a strip of cloth covering his eyes. I could tell by his clothes that he was an Ulgo. I’d seen those hooded leather smocks in Prolgu. I was a little surprised to see him, since as far as I knew, the Ulgos had been exterminated. I went out to greet him in his own language. ‘Yad ho, groja UL,’ I said. ‘Vad mar ishum.’

He winced. ‘That is not necessary,’ he told me in normal speech. ‘The Gorim has taught me your tongue.’

‘That’s fortunate,’ I replied a bit ruefully. ‘I don’t speak Ulgo very well.’

‘Yes,’ he said with a slight smile, ‘I noticed that. You would be Belgarath.’

‘It wasn’t entirely my idea. Are you having trouble with your eyes?’

‘The light hurts them.’

I looked up at the cloudy sky. ‘It’s not really all that bright today.’

‘Not to you, perhaps,’ he said. ‘To me it is blinding. Can you take me to your Master? I have some information for him from Holy Gorim.’

‘Of course.’ I agreed quickly. Maybe now we’d find out what was really going on in Ulgoland. ‘It’s this way,’ I told him, pointing at the Master’s tower. I did it automatically, I suppose. He probably couldn’t see the gesture with his eyes covered. Then again, maybe he could; he seemed to have no trouble following me.

Belsambar was with our Master. Our mystic Angarak brother had grown increasingly despondent in the years since the cracking of the world. I’d tried to raise his spirits from time to time without much success, and I’d finally suggested to our Master that perhaps it might be a good idea if he were to try cheering Belsambar up.

Aldur greeted the Ulgo courteously. ‘Yad ho, groja UL.’ His accent was much better than mine.

‘Yad ho, groja UL,’ the Ulgo responded. ‘I have news from Gorim of Holy Ulgo.’

‘I hunger for the words of your Gorim,’ Aldur replied. Ulgos tend to be a stiff and formal people, and Aldur knew all the correct responses. ‘How fares it with my father’s servants?’

‘Not well, Divine Aldur. A catastrophe has befallen us. The wounding of the earth maddened the monsters with whom we had lived in peace since the first Gorim led us to Prolgu.’

‘So that’s what it was all about!’ I exclaimed.

He gave me a slightly puzzled look.

‘I went through Holy Ulgo a few years back, and the Hrulgin and Algroths were trying to hunt me down. Prolgu was deserted, and the she-dragon was sort of hovering over it. What happened, friend?’

He shrugged. ‘I didn’t see it personally,’ he replied. ‘It was before my time, but I’ve spoken with our elders, and they told me that the wounding of the earth shook the very mountains around us. At first they thought that it was no more than an ordinary earthquake, but Holy UL spoke with the old Gorim and told him of what had happened at Korim. It was not long after that that the monsters attacked the people of Ulgo. The old Gorim was slain by an Eldrak – a fearsome creature.’

Aldur sighed. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘My brothers and I erred when we made the Eldrakyn. I sorrow for the death of your Gorim.’ It was a polite thing to say, but I don’t think my Master had been any fonder of the previous Gorim than I’d been.

‘I didn’t know him, Divine One,’ the Ulgo admitted with a slight shrug. ‘Our elders have told me that the earth had not yet finished her trembling when the monsters fell on us. Even the Dryads turned savage. The people of Ulgo retreated to Prolgu, thinking that the monsters would fear the holy place, but it was not so. They pursued the people even there. Then it was that UL revealed the caverns to us.’

‘The caverns,’ Aldur mused. ‘Of course. Long have I wondered at the import of those caverns beneath Prolgu. Now it is clear to me. I have also wondered why I could not reach my father’s mind when Belgarath told me of his strange adventures in the mountains of Ulgo. I was misdirecting my thought if he is in the caverns with thy people. I marvel at his wisdom. Are the servants of UL safe in those caves?’

‘Completely, Divine One. Holy UL placed an enchantment upon the caves, and the monsters feared to follow us there. We have lived in those caverns since the earth was wounded.’

‘Your brother’s curse reaches very far, Master,’ Belsambar said somberly. ‘Even the pious people of Ulgo have felt its sting.’

Aldur’s face grew stern. ‘It is even as thou hast said, my son,’ he agreed. ‘My brother Torak hath much to answer for.’

‘And his people as well, Master,’ Belsambar added. ‘All of Angarak shares his guilt.’

I wish I’d paid closer attention to what Belsambar was saying, and to that lost look in his eyes. It was too easy to shrug off Belsambar’s moods. He was a thoroughgoing mystic, and they’re always a little strange.

‘My Gorim has commanded me to advise thee of what has come to pass in Holy Ulgo,’ our visitor continued. ‘He asked me to entreat thee to convey this news to thy brethren. Holy Ulgo is no longer safe for mankind. The monsters rage through the mountains and forests, slaying and devouring all who come into their sight. The people of Ulgo no longer venture to the surface, but remain in our caverns where we are safe.’

‘That’s why the light hurts your eyes, isn’t it?’ I asked him. ‘You were born and reared in almost total darkness.’

‘It is even as you say, Ancient Belgarath,’ he replied. That was the first time anybody ever called me that. I found it just slightly offensive. I wasn’t really all that old – was I?

‘Thus have I completed the task laid upon me by my Gorim,’ the Ulgo said to my Master. ‘Now I beg thy permission to return to the caves of my people, for truly, the light of this upper world is agony to me. Mine eyes, like twin knives, do stab into my very brain.’ He was a poetic rascal; I’ll give him that.

‘Abide yet a time,’ Aldur told him. ‘Night will soon descend, and then mayest thou begin thy journey in what to us would be darkness, but which to thee will be only a more gentle light.’

‘I shall be guided by thee, Divine One,’ the Ulgo agreed.

We fed him – that’s to say that the twins fed him. Beltira and Belkira have an obsessive compulsion to feed things.

Anyway, our Ulgo left after the sun went down, and he was a half-hour gone before I realized that he hadn’t even told us his name.

Belsambar and I said goodnight to the Master, and I walked my Angarak brother back to his tower in the gathering twilight. ‘It goes on and on, Belgarath,’ he said to me in a melancholy voice.

‘What does?’

‘The corruption of the world. It’ll never be the same as it was before.’

‘It never has been, Belsambar. The world changes every day. Somebody dies every night, and somebody’s born every morning. It’s always been that way.’

‘Those are natural changes, Belgarath. What’s happening now is evil, not natural.’

‘I think you’re exaggerating, brother. We’ve hit bad stretches before. The onset of winter isn’t all that pleasant when you get right down to it, but spring comes back eventually.’

‘I don’t think it will this time. This particular winter’s just going to get worse as the years roll by.’ A mystic will turn anything into a metaphor. Metaphors are useful sometimes, but they can be carried too far.

‘Winter always passes, Belsambar,’ I told him. ‘If we weren’t sure of that, there wouldn’t really be much point to going on with life, would there?’

‘Is there a point to it, Belgarath?’

‘Yes, there is. Curiosity, if nothing else. Don’t you want to see what’s going to happen tomorrow?’

‘Why? It’s just going to be worse.’ He sighed. ‘This has been going on for a long time, Belgarath. The universe broke apart when that star exploded, and now Torak’s broken the world apart. The monsters of Ulgoland have been maddened, but I think mankind’s been maddened too. Once, a long time ago, we Angaraks were like other people. Torak corrupted us when he gave the Grolims sway over us. The Grolims made us proud and cruel. Then Torak himself was corrupted by his unholy lust for our Master’s Orb.’

‘He found out that was a mistake, though.’

‘But it didn’t change him. He still hungers for dominion over the Orb, even though it maimed him. His hunger brought war into the world, and war corrupted all of the rest of us. You saw me when I first came to the Vale. Could you have believed then that I’d be capable of burning people alive?’

‘We had a problem, Belsambar. We were all looking for solutions.’

‘But I was the one who rained fire on the Angaraks. You wouldn’t have; not even Beldin would have; but I did. And when we started burning my kinsmen, Torak went mad. He wouldn’t have broken the world and drowned all those people if I hadn’t driven him to it.’

‘We all did things he didn’t like, Belsambar. You can’t take all the credit.’

‘You’re missing my point, Belgarath. We were all corrupted by events. The world turned cruel, and that made us cruel as well. The world’s no longer fair. It’s no more than a rotten, wormy husk of what it once was. Eternal night is coming, and nothing we can do will hold it back.’

We’d reached the foot of his tower. I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Go to bed, Belsambar,’ I told him. ‘Things won’t look so bad in the morning when the sun comes up.’

He gave me a faint, melancholy smile, ‘If it comes up.’ Then he embraced me. ‘Good bye, Belgarath,’ he said.

‘Don’t you mean goodnight?’

‘Perhaps.’ Then he turned and went into his tower.

It was just after midnight when I was awakened by a thunderous detonation and a great flash of intense light. I leaped from my bed and dashed to the window, and stared in total disbelief at the ruins of Belsambar’s tower. It was no more than a stump now, and a great column of seething fire was spouting upward from it. The noise and that fire were bad enough, but I also felt a great vacancy as if something had been wrenched out of my very soul. I knew what it was. I no longer had the sense of Belsambar’s presence.

I really can’t say how long I stood frozen at that window staring at the horror that had just occurred.

‘Belgarath! Get down here!’ It was Beldin. I could clearly see him standing at the foot of my tower.

‘What happened?’ I shouted down to him.

‘I told you to keep an eye on Belsambar! He just willed himself out of existence! He’s gone, Belgarath! Belsambar’s gone!’

The world seemed to come crashing down around me. Belsambar had been a little strange, but he was still my brother. Ordinary people who live ordinary lives can’t begin to understand just how deeply you can become involved with another person over the course of thousands of years. In a peculiar sort of way, Belsambar’s self-obliteration maimed me. I think I’d have preferred to lose an arm or a leg rather than my mystic Angarak brother, and I know that my other brothers felt much the same. Beldin wept for days, and the twins were absolutely inconsolable.

That sense of vacancy that had come over me when Belsambar ended his life echoed all across the world. Even Belzedar and Belmakor, who were both in Mallorea when it happened, felt it, and they came soaring in a week or so afterward, although I’m not sure what they thought they could do. Belsambar was gone, and there was no way we could bring him back.

We comforted our Master as best we could, although there wasn’t really anything we could do to lessen his suffering and sorrow.

You wouldn’t have thought it to look at him, but Beldin did have a certain sense of delicacy. He waited until he got Belzedar outside the Master’s tower before he started to berate him for his behavior in Mallorea. Belmakor and I happened to be present at the time, and we were both enormously impressed by our distorted brother’s eloquence. ‘Irresponsible’ was perhaps the kindest word he used. It all went downhill from there.

Belzedar mutely accepted his abuse, which wasn’t really at all like him. For some reason, the death of Belsambar seemed to have hit him harder even than it had the rest of us. This is not to say that we all didn’t grieve, but Belzedar’s grief seemed somehow excessive. With uncharacteristic humility, he apologized to Beldin – not that it did any good. Beldin was in full voice, and he wasn’t about to stop just because Belzedar admitted his faults. He eventually started repeating himself, and that was when Belmakor rather smoothly stepped in. ‘What have you been doing in Mallorea, old boy?’ he asked Belzedar.

Belzedar shrugged. ‘What else? I’ve been attempting to recover our Master’s Orb.’

‘Isn’t that just a little dangerous, dear chap? Torak’s still a God, you know, and if he catches you, he’ll have your liver for breakfast.’

‘I think I’ve come up with a way to get around him,’ Belzedar replied.

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Beldin snapped. ‘The Master’s got enough grief already without your adding to it by getting yourself obliterated following some half-baked scheme.’

‘It’s thoroughly baked, Beldin,’ Belzedar replied coolly. ‘I’ve taken plenty of time to work out all the details. The plan will work, and it’s the only way we’ll ever be able to get the Orb back.’

‘Let’s hear it.’

‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t need help, and I definitely don’t need any interference.’ And with that he turned on his heel and walked off toward his tower with Beldin’s curses chasing after him.

‘I wonder what he’s up to,’ Belmakor mused.

‘Something foolish,’ Beldin replied sourly. ‘Belzedar’s not always the most rational of men, and he’s been absolutely obsessed with the Master’s Orb since he first laid eyes on it. Sometimes you’d almost think it was something of his own that Torak stole.’

‘You’ve noticed that too, I see,’ Belmakor said with a faint smile.

‘Noticed it? How could anyone miss it? What were you doing in Mallorea?’

‘I wanted to see what had happened to my people, actually.’

‘Well? What did?’

‘Torak didn’t do them any favors when he cracked the world.’

‘I don’t think he was trying to. What happened?’

‘I can’t be entirely positive. Melcena was an island kingdom off the east coast, and when Torak started rearranging the world’s geography, he managed to sink about half of those islands. That inconvenienced my people just a bit. Now they’re all jammed together in what little space they’ve got left. They appointed a committee to look into it.’

‘They did what?’

‘That’s the first thing a Melcene thinks of when a crisis of any kind crops up, old boy. It gives us a sense of accomplishment – and we can always blame the committee if things don’t work out.’

‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.’

‘Of course it is. We Melcenes are a ridiculous people. It’s part of our charm.’

‘What did the committee come up with?’ I asked him.

‘They studied the problem from all angles – for about ten years, actually – and then they filed their report to the government.’

‘And what were their findings?’ I asked.

‘The report was five hundred pages long, Belgarath. It’d take me all night to repeat it.’

‘Boil it down.’

‘Well, the gist of it was that the Melcene empire needed more land.’

‘It took them ten years to come up with that?’ Beldin demanded incredulously.

‘Melcenes are very thorough, old boy. They went on to suggest expansion to the mainland.’

‘Isn’t it already occupied?’ I asked him.

‘Well, yes, but all of the people along the east coast are of Dallish extraction anyway – until you get farther north into the lands of the Karands – so there’s a certain kinship. The emperor sent emissaries to our cousins in Rengel and Celanta to explore possible solutions to our predicament.’

‘When did the war start?’ Beldin asked bluntly.

‘Oh, there wasn’t any war, old boy. We Melcenes are far too civilized for that. The emperor’s emissaries simply pointed out to the petty kinglets the advantages of becoming a part of the Melcene empire – and the disadvantages of refusing.’

‘Threats, you mean?’ Beldin suggested.

‘I wouldn’t actually call them threats, dear boy. The emissaries were very polite, of course, but they did manage to convey the notion that the emperor would be terribly disappointed if he didn’t get what he wanted. The little kings got the point almost immediately. Anyway, after the Melcenes established footholds in Rengel and Celanta, they annexed Darshiva and Peldane. Gandahar’s giving them some trouble, though. The people in the jungles of Gandahar have domesticated the elephant, and elephant cavalry’s a little difficult to cope with. I’m sure they’ll work things out, though.’

‘Do you think they’ll expand into the lands of the Dals?’ I asked him.

Belmakor shook his head. ‘That wouldn’t be a good idea at all, Belgarath.’

‘Why? I’ve never heard that the Dals are a particularly warlike people.’

‘They aren’t, but no one in his right mind crosses the Dals. They’re scholars of the arcane, and they’ve discovered all sorts of things that could make life unpleasant for anybody who blundered into their territory. Have you ever heard of Urvon?’

‘He’s one of Torak’s disciples, isn’t he?’

‘Yes. He more or less controls the Grolims at Mal Yaska, and Ctuchik runs things in Cthol Mishrak. Anyway, a few years ago Urvon wanted a survey of the native people of Mallorea, so he sent his Grolims out to have a look. The ones he sent to Kell didn’t come back. They’re still wandering around in the shadow of that huge mountain down there – blind and crazy. Of course, you can’t always tell if a Grolim’s crazy; they aren’t too rational to begin with.’

Beldin barked that ugly laugh of his. ‘You can say that again, brother.’

‘What are the Dals at Kell up to?’ I asked curiously.

‘All sorts of things – wizardry, necromancy, divining, astrology.’

‘Don’t tell me that they’re still into that tired old nonsense.’

‘I’m not entirely positive that it is nonsense, old boy. Astrology’s the province of the Seers, and they’re more or less at the top of the social structure at Kell. Kell’s been there forever, and it doesn’t really have what you could call a government. They all just do what the Seers tell them to do.’

‘Have you ever met one of these Seers?’ Beldin asked.

‘One – a young woman with a bandage over her eyes.’

‘How could she read the stars if she’s blind?’

‘I didn’t say that she was blind, old boy. Evidently she only takes the bandage off when she wants to read the Book of the Heavens. She was a strange girl, but the Dals all listened to her – not that what she said made much sense to me.’

‘That’s usually the case with people who pretend to be able to see the future,’ Beldin noted. ‘Talking in riddles is a very good way to keep from being exposed as a fraud.’

‘I don’t think they’re frauds, Beldin,’ Belmakor disagreed. ‘The Dals tell me that no Seer has ever been wrong about what’s going to happen. The Seers think in terms of Ages. The Second Age began when Torak broke the world apart.’

‘It was a sort of memorable event,’ I said. ‘The Alorns started their calendar that day. I think we’re currently in the year one hundred and thirty-eight – or so.’

‘Foolishness!’ Beldin snorted.

‘It gives them something to think about beside picking fights with their neighbors.’

The she-wolf came loping across the meadow. ‘One wonders when you are coming home,’ she said to me pointedly.

‘She’s almost as bad as a wife, isn’t she?’ Beldin observed.

She bared her fangs at him. I could never really be sure just how much she understood of what we were saying.

‘Are you going back to Mallorea?’ I asked Belmakor.

‘I don’t think so, old boy. I think I’ll look in on the Marags instead. I rather like the Marags.’

‘Well, I am going back to Mallorea,’ Beldin said. ‘I still want to find out who Torak’s third disciple is, and I’d like to keep an eye on Belzedar – if I can keep up with him. Every time I turn around, he’s given me the slip.’ He looked at me. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Right now I’m going home – before my friend here sinks her fangs into my leg and drags me there.’

‘I meant it more generally, Belgarath.’

‘I’m not entirely sure. I think I’ll stay around here for a while – until the Master thinks of something else for me to do.’

‘Well,’ the wolf said to me, ‘are you coming home or not?’

‘Yes, dear,’ I sighed, rolling my eyes upward.

It was lonely in the Vale after Belsambar left us. Beldin and Belzedar were off in Mallorea, and Belmakor was down in Maragor, entertaining Marag women, I’m sure. That left only the twins and me to stay with our Master. There was a sort of unspoken agreement among us that the twins would always stay close to Aldur. That particular custom had started right after Torak stole our Master’s Orb. I moved around quite a bit during the next several centuries, however. There were still marriages to arrange – and an occasional murder.

Does that shock you? It shouldn’t. I’ve never made any pretense at being a saint, and there were people out there in the world who were inconvenient. I didn’t tell the Master what I was doing – but he didn’t ask, either. I’m not going to waste my time – or yours – coming up with lame excuses. I was driven by Necessity, so I did what was necessary.

The years rolled on. I would have passed my three thousandth birthday without even noticing it if my companion hadn’t brought it to my attention. For some reason she always remembered my birthday, and that was very odd. Wolves watch the seasons, not the years, but she never once forgot that day that no longer had any real meaning for me.

I stumbled rather bleary-eyed from my bed that morning. The twins and I had been celebrating something or other the night before. She sat watching me with that silly tongue of hers lolling out. Being laughed at is not a good way to start out the day. ‘You smell bad,’ she noted.

‘Please don’t,’ I said. ‘I’m not feeling well this morning.’

‘Remarkable. You felt very well last night.’

‘That was then. This is now.’

‘One is curious to know why you do this to yourself. You know that you will be unwell in the morning.’

‘It is a custom.’ I’d found over the years that shrugging things off as ‘a custom’ was the best approach with her.

‘Oh. I see. Well, if it is a custom, I suppose it is all right. You are older today, you know.’

‘I feel much, much older today.’

‘You were whelped on this day a long time ago.’

‘Is it my birthday again? Already? Where does the time go?’

‘Behind us – or in front. It depends on which way you are looking,’ Can you believe the complexity of that thought coming from a wolf?

‘You have been with me for quite some time now,’ ‘What is time to a wolf? One day is much like another, is it not?’

‘As I recall it, we first met on the grasslands to the north before the world was broken.’

‘It was about then, yes.’

I made a few quick mental calculations. ‘A thousand or so of my birthdays have passed since then.’

‘So?’

‘Do wolves normally live so long?’

‘You are a wolf – sometimes – and you have lived this long.’

‘That is different. You are a very unusual wolf.’

‘Thank you. One had thought that you might not have noticed that.’

This is really amazing. I cannot believe that a wolf could live so long.’

‘Wolves live as long as they choose to live,’ she sniffed. ‘One would be more content with you if you would do something about your smell,’ she added.

You see, Polgara, you weren’t the first to make that observation.

It was several years later when I had occasion to change my form for some reason which I’ve long since forgotten. I can’t even remember what form I took, but I do remember that it was early summer, and the sun was streaming golden through the open window of my tower, bathing all the clutter of half-forgotten experiments and the heaps of books and scrolls piled against the walls in the pellucid light of that particular season. I’d thought that the wolf was asleep when I did it, but I probably should have known better. Nothing I did ever slipped past her.

She sat up with those golden eyes of hers glowing in the sunlight. ‘So that is how you do it,’ she said to me. ‘What a simple thing.’

And she promptly turned herself into a snowy white owl.