Читать книгу Belgarath the Sorcerer and Polgara the Sorceress: 2-Book Collection - David Eddings - Страница 25

In retrospect, it was probably for the best that I was a wolf when I made that discovery. The personality of the wolf had become so interwoven with my own during the past month that my reactions were not entirely my own. A wolf is incapable of hatred – rage, yes; hatred, no. Had I been in my own form, I probably would have done something precipitous.

As it was, I simply lay there in the snow with my ears pricked forward, listening as Zedar pleaded with the Morind magician. That gave me enough time to pull my wits together. How could I have been so blind? Zedar had given himself away hundreds of times since Torak had cracked the world, but I’d been too inattentive to notice. I’d have more than likely wasted a great deal of time berating myself, but once again the wolf that enclosed me shrugged that useless activity aside. But now that I knew the truth about my sometime brother, what was I going to do about it?

The simplest thing, of course, would be to lie in wait until the Morind left and then dash into the clearing and rip Zedar’s throat out with my teeth. I was tempted; the Gods know that I was tempted. There was a certain wolfish practicality about that notion. It was quick; it was easy; and it would remove a clear and present danger once and for all.

Unfortunately, it would also leave a thousand questions unanswered, and curiosity is a trait common to both men and wolves. I knew what Zedar had done. Now I wanted to know why. I did know one thing, though. I’d just lost another brother. I didn’t even think of him as ‘Belzedar’ any more.

There was a more practical reason for my restraint, however. The gathering of the Morindim had obviously been at Zedar’s instigation. He’d overcome their reluctance to join together by offering them a God. To my way of thinking, there wasn’t really all that much difference between Torak and the King of Hell, but the Morindim obviously saw it otherwise. Zedar had planted that particular trap in my path. How many others were out there besides? That’s what I really needed to know. A trap, once set, can lie there waiting long after the man who set it is dead. The situation seemed to call for subterfuge, and I’ve always been fairly good at that.

‘You’re just wasting your breath, Zedar,’ the Morind was saying. ‘I’m not going to confront a magician as powerful as your brother. If you want to fight him, do it yourself. I’m sure your Master will help you.’

‘He can’t, Etchquaw. It is forbidden. I must be the instrument of Necessity during this particular EVENT.’

What was this?

‘If you are Necessity’s tool, why did you come to us?’ It’s easy to dismiss the Morindim. You don’t normally expect anything remotely resembling intelligence from demon-worshipers, but this Etchquaw fellow was surprisingly perceptive. ‘I think you are afraid of this Belgarath,’ he went on, ‘and I think you are afraid of his Necessity. Well, I won’t stick my head into the fire for you, Zedar. I’ve learned to live with demons. I don’t really need a God – particularly not a God as powerless as Torak. My demon can do anything I tell him to do. Your Torak seems to be quite limited.’

‘Limited?’ Zedar objected. ‘He cracked the world, you idiot!’

‘And what did it get him?’ The Morind’s tone was scornful. ‘It got him fire, Zedar. That’s what it got him. If all I want is fire, I can wait until I get to Hell.’

Zedar’s eyes narrowed. ‘You won’t have to wait that long, Etchquaw,’ he said firmly.

I suppose I could have stopped him. I could feel his Will building, but to be honest with you, I didn’t really believe he’d do it.

But he did. I was fairly close, so the sound when he spoke the Word that released his Will was thunderous.

Etchquaw quite suddenly caught on fire.

I’m sorry to open old wounds, Garion, but you weren’t the first to do it. There was a difference, though. You had plenty of reason for what you did in the Wood of the Dryads. Zedar, however, set fire to the Morind out of pure viciousness. There’s also the fact that you felt guilty, but I’m sure that Zedar didn’t.

This was all coming at me a little too fast, so I inched my way back out from under that snowy bush and left Zedar to his entertainments.

The one thing that kept flashing in my mind was Zedar’s use of the word ‘EVENT.’ This was one of those incidents that our Master had warned us about. I’d been fairly sure that something important was going to happen, but I’d thought that it was going to happen at Cthol Mishrak. Evidently I’d been wrong. There might be another EVENT later, but we had to get by this one first. I decided that it was time for another consultation.

– Can we talk? – I asked the presence inside my head.

– Was there something? –

I think that’s the thing that irritated me the most about my uninvited guest – he thought he was funny. I didn’t bother to make an issue of it. Considering his location, he probably already knew how I felt. – This is one of those little confrontations that keep happening, isn’t it? –

– Obviously. –

– An important one? –

– They’re all important, Belgarath. –

– Zedar said that he’s the instrument of the other Necessity this time. I thought it was Torak. –

– It was. It changes from time to time, though. –

– Then Zedar was telling the truth. –

– If you choose to believe him, yes. –

‘Will you stop doing that?’ I said it aloud. Fortunately, it came out in wolfish, so I don’t think anyone could hear it.

– You’re in a testy humor today. –

– Never mind that. If Zedar’s the instrument of the other one, who’s yours? –

There was a long silence, and I could feel the amusement dripping from it.

– You’re not serious! –

– I have every confidence in you. –

– What am I supposed to do? –

– I’m sure it’ll come to you. –

– Aren’t you going to tell me? –

– Of course not. We have to play by the rules. –

– I need some directions here. If I make it up as I go along, I’m bound to make mistakes. –

– We sort of take those into account. You’ll do just fine. –

– I’m going to kill Zedar. – It was an empty threat, of course. Once I’d gotten past my initial rage, my homicidal instincts had cooled. Zedar had been my brother for over three thousand years, so I wasn’t going to kill him. I might set his beard on fire or tie his entrails into a very complicated knot, but I wouldn’t kill him. In spite of everything, I still loved him too much for that.

There’s that word again. It always keeps cropping up, for some reason.

– Try to be serious, Belgarath, – the voice in my head told me. – You’re incapable of killing your brother. All you have to do is neutralize him. Don’t get carried away. We’re going to need him again on down the line. –

– You’re not going to tell me what to do, are you? –

– It isn’t permitted this time. You and Zedar are going to have to work out the details for yourselves. –

And then the silly thing was gone.

I spent several minutes swearing. Then I loped back to where Zedar had been warming himself by the cheerily burning Morind. As I ran along, I began to formulate a plan. I could confront Zedar right now and get it over with, but there were a lot of holes in that idea. Now that I knew how things stood, there was no way he could take me by surprise, and without the element of surprise, he was no match for me. I could take him with one hand, but that would still leave the question of traps hanging up in the air. I reasoned that my best course would be to follow him for a few days to see if he were in contact with others – Morindim or anybody else. I knew Zedar well enough to know that he’d much prefer to let others do his dirty work for him.

Then I stopped and dropped to my haunches. Zedar was fully aware of the fact that my favorite alternative form was that of a wolf. If he saw a wolf – or even wolf-tracks in the snow – he’d immediately know that I was around. I was going to have to come up with something else.

Given the rules of this particular encounter, I think I can take credit for the idea that came to me. My visitor had told me that he wasn’t permitted to make suggestions, so I was entirely on my own.

I ran back over the last couple thousand years in my mind. Zedar had spent almost the entire time in Mallorea, so there were a lot of things that had happened in the Vale that he didn’t know about. He knew that the she-wolf had stayed with me in my tower, but he didn’t know about her abilities. If a wolf started following him, he might get suspicious, but an owl? I didn’t think so – at least he wouldn’t unless I let him see how inept I was at flying.

I remembered the owl very well, of course, so it wasn’t too hard to form the image in my mind. It was only after I’d merged myself into the image that I realized my mistake. The image was female!

It didn’t really make any difference, of course, but it definitely confused me right at first. How’s it possible for women to keep their heads on straight with all those additional internal organs – and all those exotic substances floating around in their blood?

I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to pursue this line of thought any further.

Considering my irrational nervousness about flying too high, it’s fortunate that owls have no real reason to go very far up in the air. An owl’s interested in what’s on the ground, not what’s up among the stars. I ghosted low over the snow-covered earth back toward where I’d left Zedar.

Have you any idea of how well an owl can see in the dark? I was absolutely amazed by how good my eyes were. My feathers, of course, were very soft, and I found that I could fly in absolute silence. I concentrated on that, and would you believe that my flying improved? I smoothed out my frantic flapping and actually managed to achieve a certain grace.

Etchquaw had burned down to a heap of charred, smoking rubble by now, and Zedar was gone. His tracks, however, weren’t. They angled back up the hillside toward the edge of the stunted evergreens at the tree-line, and then they turned east. That made things even easier for me. It’s a little hard to follow someone inconspicuously when you’re flying out in the open. As an owl though, I was able to drift silently from tree to tree until I caught up with him. He seemed to be heading due east, parallel to the course I’d set for Cherek and his sons, and I began to entertain myself by zig-zagging back and forth across his path, now ahead of him, now off to one side, and now behind. He wasn’t really hard to follow, since he’d conjured up a dim, greenish light to see by – and to hold off the boogie-men. Did I ever tell you that Zedar’s afraid of the dark? That adds another dimension to his present situation, doesn’t it?

He was bundled to the ears in furs, and he was muttering to himself as he floundered along through the snow. Zedar talks to himself a lot. He always has.

I could not for the life of me figure out what he was up to. If he thought that he could keep up with those long-legged Alorns, he was sadly mistaken. I was sure that Cherek and his boys were at least ten miles ahead of him by now. He was still angling slightly up hill, and by the time the moon set again he’d reached the crest of the north range. Then he stopped.

I drifted to a nearby tree and watched him – owlishly.

Sorry. I couldn’t resist that.

– ‘Master!’ – His thought almost knocked me off the limb I was perched on. Lord, Zedar could be clumsy when he got excited.

– I hear thee, my son. – I recognized the voice. I was a bit astounded to discover that Torak was almost as clumsy as Zedar was. He was a God! Was that the best he could do? Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Torak’s divinity had made him so sure of himself that he got careless.

– I have failed, Master. – Zedar’s silent voice was trembling. Torak was not the sort to accept the failure of his underlings graciously.

– Failed? – There were all sorts of unpleasant implications in the maimed God’s tone. – I will not accept that, Zedar. Thou must not fail. –

– Our plan was flawed, Master. Belgarath is far more powerful than we had anticipated. –

– How did this come to pass, Zedar? He is thy brother. How is it that thou wert ignorant of the extent of his might? –

– He seemed me but a foolish man, Master. His mind is not quick, nor his perceptions acute. He is, moreover, a drunken lecher with scant morality and little seriousness. –

You rarely hear anything good about yourself when you eavesdrop. Have you ever noticed that?

– How did he manage to thwart thee, my son? – There was a steely accusation in Torak’s voice.

– He hath in some manner unknown to me gained knowledge of the techniques by which the magicians of the Morindim raise and control the demons which are their slaves. I tell thee truly, Master, he doth far surpass those savages. –

Naturally he didn’t know how I’d learned Morind magic. He’d been in Mallorea when I’d gone to Morindland to take lessons.

– What did he do, Zedar? – Torak demanded. – I must know the extent of his capabilities ere I consult with the Necessity which guides us. –

It took me a moment to realize what I’d just heard. The other Necessity – the opposite of the one that had taken up residence in my head – was not in direct communication with Zedar! Torak stood between them! He was too jealous to permit anyone to have access to that spirit – or whatever you want to call it. There was my edge! I had them! I’d be told if I made a mistake. Zedar wouldn’t. I suddenly wanted to flap my wings and crow like a rooster.

I listened very carefully while Zedar described my confrontation with the Morindim and their demons. He exaggerated a bit. Zedar’s language was always a bit excessive, but he had a very good reason for it this time. His continued good health depended on his persuading Torak that I was well-nigh invincible.

There was a long silence after Zedar had finished his extravagant description of my Demon Lord.

– I will consider this and consult with the Necessity. – Torak said finally. – Dog the steps of thy brother whilst I devise some new means to delay him. We need not destroy him. The TIME of the EVENT is as important as the EVENT itself. –

The implications there were clear. There weren’t any other traps out there. They’d hung everything on the Morindim. I felt like grinning, but that’s a little hard to do with a hooked beak. There was no need now to wait any longer. I knew what I had to know. I decided to put Zedar out of action right here and now. I could fly over the top of him, change back to my own form, and fall on him like a collapsing roof.

– Not yet – the voice told me. – It isn’t time yet. –

– When then? –

– Just a few more minutes, and you might want to reconsider your plan. I think it might have some holes in it. –

After a moment’s thought, I realized that the voice was right. Falling on top of Zedar wasn’t a very good idea. I’d have just as much chance of knocking myself senseless as I would him. Besides, I wanted to talk with him a little first.

The sense of Torak’s somewhat nebulous presence was gone now. The maimed God in Cthol Mishrak was busy consulting with that other awareness. Zedar started down the hill through the evergreens, angling back to pick up our trail.

I flew over him and landed in the snow several hundred yards in front of him. Then I changed back into my own form and waited for him, leaning rather casually against a tree.

I could see that greenish light of his bobbing through the trees as he came toward me, and I took advantage of the time to put a lid on my towering anger. It’s not a good idea to let your emotions run away with you when you’re involved in a confrontation.

Then he came out of the trees on the other side of the clearing where I’d stationed myself.

‘What kept you?’ I asked him in a calm, run-of-the mill tone of voice.

‘Belgarath!’ he gasped.

‘You must be half-asleep, Belzedar. Couldn’t you feel my presence? I wasn’t trying to hide it.’

‘Thank the Gods you’re here,’ he said with feigned enthusiasm. He was quick on his feet; I’ll give him that. ‘Weren’t you listening? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you?’

‘I’ve been running as a wolf. That might have dulled my perceptions. What are you doing here?’

‘I’ve been trying to catch up with you. You and the Alorns are running into an unnecessary danger.’

‘Oh?’

‘There’s no need for you to go to Mallorea. I’ve already retrieved the Orb. This absurd quest of yours is just a waste of time.’

‘What an amazing thing. Let’s see it.’

‘Ah – I didn’t think it was safe to bring it up here with me. I wasn’t positive I could catch up with you, and I didn’t want to take it back to Mallorea, so I put it in a safe place.’

‘Good idea. How did you manage to get it away from Torak?’ As long as he was being so creative, I thought I’d give him a chance to expand on his wild story.

‘I’ve been at this for two thousand years, Belgarath. I’ve been working on Urvon all this time. He’s still a Grolim, but he’s afraid of the power of our Master’s jewel. He distracted Torak, and I was able to slip into that iron tower at Cthol Mishrak and steal the Orb.’

‘Where did Torak keep it?’ That particular bit of information might be very useful later on.

‘It was in a room adjoining the one where he spends all his time. He didn’t want that iron box in the same room with him. The temptation to open it might have been too great for him.’

‘Well,’ I said blandly, ‘I guess that takes care of all of that, then. I’m glad you came along when you did, brother. I wasn’t really too eager to go to Mallorea. I’ll go fetch Cherek and his sons while you go pick up the Orb. Then we can all go back to the Vale.’ I waited for a little bit to give him a moment to exult over his success in deceiving me. ‘Isn’t that sort of what you’d expect from a drunken lecher with scant morality and little seriousness?’ I added, throwing his own words back in his teeth. Then I sighed with genuine regret. ‘Why, Belzedar?’ I asked him. ‘Why have you betrayed our Master?’

His head came up sharply, and his look was stricken.

‘You ought to pay more attention, old boy,’ I told him. ‘I’ve been almost on top of you for the past ten hours. Did you really think it was necessary to set fire to Etchquaw?’ I’ll admit that I was goading him. He was still my brother, and I didn’t want to be the one to strike the first blow. I bored in inexorably. ‘You’re Torak’s third disciple, aren’t you, Zedar? You’ve gone over to the other side. You’ve sold your soul to that one-eyed monster in Cthol Mishrak. What did he offer you, Zedar? What is there in this whole world that was worth what you’ve done?’

He actually broke down at that point. ‘I had no choice, Belgarath,’ he sobbed. ‘I’d thought that I could deceive Torak – that I could pretend to accept him and serve him – but he put his hand on my soul and tore it out of me. His touch, Belgarath! Dear God, his touch!’

I braced myself. I knew what was coming. Zedar always overacted. It was his one great weakness.

He started by throwing fire into my face. Between one spurious sob and the next, his arm whipped back and then flashed forward with a great blob of incandescent flame nestled in his palm.

I brushed it aside with a negligent gesture. ‘Not good enough, brother,’ I told him. Then I knocked him cart-wheeling through the snow with my fist. It was tactically sound. He’d have felt my Will building anyway, and I got an enormous satisfaction out of punching him in the mouth.

He came up spitting blood and teeth, and trying to gather his wits. I didn’t give him time for that, however. He spent the next several minutes dancing in the snow, dodging the lightning bolts I threw at him. I still didn’t want to kill him, so I gave him an instant of warning before I turned each bolt loose. It did keep him off-balance, though, and the sizzling noise when the bolts hit the snow really distracted him.

Then he enveloped himself in a cloud of absolute darkness, trying to hide. I dissolved his cloud and kept shooting lightning at him. He really didn’t like that. Zedar’s afraid of a lot of things, and lightning’s one of them. My thunder-claps and the sizzle and steam definitely upset him.

He tried more fire, but I smothered each of his flames before he even got it well-started. I suppose I might have toyed with him longer, but by now he fully understood that I had the upper hand. There was no real point in grinding his face in that any more, so I jumped on him and quite literally beat him into the ground with my bare hands. I could have done it any number of other ways, I guess, but his betrayal seemed to call for a purely physical chastisement. I hammered on him with my fists for a while, and right at first he gave as good as he got. We banged on each other for several minutes, but I was enjoying it far more than he was. I had a great deal of pent-up anger, and hitting him felt very, very good.

I finally gave him a good solid punch on the side of his head, and his eyes glazed over, and he slumped senseless into the snow.

‘That’ll teach you,’ I muttered to him, rising and standing over his unconscious body. It was a silly thing to say, but I had to say something.

I had a little problem, though. What was I going to do with him now? I wasn’t going to kill him, and the blow I had given him wouldn’t keep him unconscious for very long. I was certain that the rules of this encounter prohibited the voice inside my head from making any suggestions, so I was on my own.

I considered the inert form at my feet. In his present condition, Zedar posed no threat to anyone. All I really had to do was keep him in that condition. I took him by the shoulders and dragged him back in among the trees. Then I piled branches over him. In spite of everything, I didn’t want him to freeze to death or get smothered by a sudden snow-squall. Then I reached my hand in under the branches, found his face, and gathered my Will. ‘This all must have been exhausting for you, Zedar,’ I told him. ‘Why don’t you see if you can catch up on your sleep?’

Then I released my Will. I smiled and stood up. I’d gauged it rather carefully. Zedar would sleep for at least six months, and that would keep him out of my hair while the Alorns and I went to Cthol Mishrak to finish what we’d set out to do.

I felt quite pleased with myself as I resumed the form of the wolf.

Then I went looking for Bear-shoulders and his boys.