Читать книгу Polgara the Sorceress - David Eddings - Страница 19

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 rid of the competition.’

‘A strict interpretation of those laws would make those secret Cult ceremonies with all that imitation magic a form of witchcraft, wouldn’t it?’

‘Oh, that’s beautiful, Pol!’ Kamion said admiringly.

‘If we can find out where and when one of those ceremonies is taking place, we can swoop in during the entertainment and round them up,’ Anrak said. ‘We’ll have enough to indict the whole Cult.’ He thought for a moment. ‘If you can hold off until the autumn equinox, you’ll probably get every Cult-member on the Isle. That’s a big day for the Cult.’

‘Oh?’ Daran said. ‘Why’s that?’

“There’s a tradition that Torak cracked the world on the autumnal equinox. I’m not sure why, but the Cult always celebrates the event. Every district in Cherek, Drasnia, and Algaria has its own Cult party on that night.’

‘I’ve got informants among the general population,’ Kamion mused. ‘It shouldn’t be too hard to find out where those ceremonies take place. I’ll put out the word, and we should have what we need in a week or so.’

Daran sighed disconsolately. ‘Another perfectly good idea just went down a rat-hole,’ he mourned.

‘Which idea was that, dear?’ I asked him.

‘I was hoping that I could make Elthek himself take up farming, but if we exile the whole lot of them, the ordinary people in the Cult are probably going to feed the priests.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Daran,’ Anrak said. ‘I’ve sailed along the north coast of the Isle. There are lots of islets up there, but none of them is really big enough to support more than a half-dozen people. If he wants to eat, Elthek’s going to have to get his hands dirty.’

‘Marvelous,’ Daran beamed.

Kamion’s spies advised us that, unlike the Cult practice in the other Alorn kingdoms, the Cultists here all gathered in a narrow gorge in the mountains rearing above the Citadel. Evidently our Deacon believed in keeping a firm grip on his adherents.

Kamion and I had a small argument about a week before the autumnal equinox. He was very upset when I told him that I was going with him to that gorge. ‘Out of the question,’ he told me. ‘It’ll be too dangerous.’

‘And what are you going to do if it turns out that the Deacon can really perform magic, Kamion? You won’t be able to help Daran very much if Elthek turns you into a toad, you know.’

That’s absurd, Pol. Nobody can do that’

‘Don’t be too sure, Kamion. I probably could – if I set my mind to it. If Elthek does have talent in that area, I’m the only one on the Isle who can counter it. I’m coming along, Kamion, so don’t argue with me about it.’

The soldiers who were to take the Cult into custody were all carefully selected, and for reasons of security they were not told what their mission was going to be. Kamion dispatched them into the mountains in squads with instructions to stay out of sight. The Cultists started drifting into the city in the waning days of summer, and then began drifting out again after a few days as Elthek sent them up the gorge to make preparations for the celebration. The whole affair took on an almost comic aspect with groups of armed men creeping around in the forests assiduously avoiding each other. I spent a great deal of my time in feathers during those two weeks, flying from tree to tree as I kept an eye on the Cultists to make certain that there weren’t any last-minute changes of plan.

Our plan was really quite simple. We decided to secrete a fair number of highly respected nobles and commons in the woods on the steep sides of the gorge to observe Elthek’s ceremony, and then, when we had enough damning evidence – and when the Cultists were too drunk to stand – we’d send in the soldiers to round them all up. It wasn’t until the day preceding the autumnal equinox that Kamion and I quite firmly told Daran that he wouldn’t be going along. ‘You’ll be sitting in judgment, your Highness,’ Kamion told him. ‘You’ll lose all appearance of impartiality if you lead the attack.’

‘But – ’ Daran started to protest.

‘No buts, dear,’ I said. ‘If you were actually the king, it might be different, but you’re only your father’s regent, so you have to be a little careful. It’s your father’s throne you’re defending, not your own.’

‘It will be.’

‘There’s a lot of difference between “will be” and “is”, Daran. You have to give the appearance of impartiality in this situation. You can spend tomorrow evening sitting in front of a mirror practicing expressions of shock and outrage. Then, when Anrak, Kamion and I drag the Cultists before you and present the case against them, no one can accuse you of having been in on our scheme from the very start. Appearances are very important in situations like this.’

‘Your Highness might want to keep in mind the fact that witchcraft’s a capital offense,’ Kamion pointed out. ‘In actuality, you could burn the lot of them at the stake.’

‘Could I really do that, Aunt Pol?’ Daran asked me.

‘Don’t get carried away, dear. Sentencing them to exile’s really an act of mercy, you realize.’

‘Part of the idea here is to build your reputation, your Highness,’ Kamion explained.

‘I don’t think it’s very fair,’ Daran sulked.

‘No, your Highness, it’s not. It’s politics, and politics aren’t meant to be fair. Oh, incidentally, after the trial, it might not be a bad idea for you to agonize over your final judgment for a week or so.’

Daran stared at him blankly.

‘It’ll give me some time to spread word of the charges and our proof all over the Isle – public relations, you understand.’

‘I know what I’m going to do to them, Brand.’

‘Of course you do, dear,’ I told him. ‘Just don’t do it so quickly. Give Elthek and his cohorts some time to worry before you pass judgment on them.’

‘Where am I going to keep them while I pretend to be making up my mind?’

‘Elthek’s got a fairly extensive dungeon under the temple of Belar, your Highness,’ Kamion suggested without even cracking a smile. ‘As long as it’s there anyway – ’

Daran burst out laughing at that point.

And then the day arrived, dawning murky with the threat of incipient rain. ‘Wonderful,’ Anrak said sourly, looking out the window of our blue-draped conference room as morning stained the sky over the Isle. ‘I hate crawling around in the woods when it’s raining.’

‘You won’t melt,’ I assured him. ‘If you’d like, you could bring a cake of soap along tonight. I think it’s almost time for your annual bath.’

‘I think you did me a big favor that day back in the Vale when you turned down my marriage proposal, Pol,’ he replied.

‘What’s this?’ Daran asked.

‘I was young and foolish at the time, Daran,’ Anrak explained. ‘Some men just aren’t meant to get married.’

That gave me something to think about. Daran would be twenty-three years old on his next birthday, and I didn’t really want him to grow too accustomed to bachelorhood.

It rained off and on all that day, a filmy, misty kind of rain that wreathed the towers of the Citadel and obscured the city and the harbor. The sky cleared in the late afternoon, though, and we were treated to one of those glorious sunsets that almost make living in rainy country worthwhile.

No, I didn’t have anything to do with it. You know how my father feels about tampering with the weather.

The nobles and commons who joined us that evening to serve as witnesses were all men of impeccable character and good reputation. They were not, despite Anrak’s objections, coached or prompted in any way. Indeed, they were not even advised in advance that they were going to spend an entertaining evening out in the still-dripping forest. Kamion, acting in his official capacity as Rivan Warder, simply sent men out to round them all up as the sun went down. Most of them were at supper when they were summoned to the Citadel, and there was a bit of grumbling about that.

‘What’s this all about, Kamion?’ a white-bearded old earl demanded when we all gathered in the stables. The earl’s name was Jarok, a fairly common Alorn name.

‘I want you all to see something, my Lord Jarok,’ Kamion replied.

‘What are we supposed to look at?’ Jarok was obviously not happy. He was an old man with a young wife, and he’d had other plans for the evening, I guess.

‘I’m not at liberty to discuss it, my Lord,’ Kamion told him. ‘All you and the others need to know is that you’re going to witness a crime being committed this evening. The criminals will be taken into custody and they’ll be tried later for their crime. You gentlemen will perform your civic duty and testify at that trial.’

‘Belar’s teeth, Kamion!’ the grouchy old Jarok swore, ‘just hang the rogues and have done with it.’

‘We aren’t talking about a simple burglary or an incidental murder, my Lord. This is a wide-ranging conspiracy that threatens the security of the throne and the entire kingdom. We want to stamp it out, so we’ll need an iron-clad case to take before the Prince Regent.’

That bad?’ Jarok blinked. ‘It’s really bad enough to take before Daran himself instead of a magistrate?’

‘Probably even worse, my Lord. If possible, I’d take the matter to Riva himself.’

‘What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!’

I love the way Alorns can change direction in the blink of an eye, don’t you?

The ride up the gorge which adjoined the one where the Cult was meeting wasn’t very pleasant. The moon and stars were out, but the woods were absolutely soaked by the day’s rain, and we were all wet to the skin by the time we reached the narrow pass that connected the two deep valleys. Things got worse at that point. We all dismounted and started wading up the hill through the sodden undergrowth.

The Cultists’ bonfire down at the bottom of the gorge was clearly visible when we reached the crest, but it became less so as we crept down through the trees.

‘I haven’t had this much fun in years, Pol,’ Anrak whispered to me as we struggled down the steep hill.

‘Did you plan to ever grow up, Anrak?’ I asked him rather tartly as I tried to unsnag the hem of my dress from a thorny bush.

‘Not if I can help it, dear Lady.’ His grin was infectious, and I had to stifle a laugh.

The clearing which surrounded the Cult’s bonfire was quite large. ‘Spread out, gentlemen,’ Kamion’s instructions were passed around in whispers. ‘Let’s try to see everything that happens out there.’ The nobles and merchants and craftsmen comprising our group of witnesses obediently fanned out, moving as silently as possible and all crouched low to avoid being seen. Then we all sank down onto the wet ground to watch.

Elthek had not yet put in an appearance, and the Cultists, all dressed in bearskins, were gathered about the fire drinking strong ale and singing – badly – old Alorn folk-songs. One of the soldiers Kamion had out in the woods came crawling up to join us. He was a stocky man with a no-nonsense kind of face. ‘What are your orders, Lord Brand?’ he whispered.

‘Tell your men to stay out of sight, Sergeant,’ Kamion instructed. ‘Did those people around the fire leave any sentries out there in the forest?’

‘No, my Lord Warder. As soon as the first ale-barrel was broached, they all came in out of the woods.’ The soldier coughed in a slightly embarrassed way. ‘Ah – Lord Brand?’

‘Yes, Sergeant?’

‘I know it isn’t proper for me to take any kind of action without orders, but something came up, and I had to deal with it on my own.’

‘Oh?’

‘When those people around the fire started coming up the gorge, it was fairly obvious that they were members of the Bear-Cult. Some of my men have sympathies in that direction, so I had to take steps. Nobody got hurt,’ he added hastily, ‘at least not too badly. I’ve got those men chained to trees a couple of miles up the gorge, and their mouths are stuffed full of old boot socks to keep them from shouting out warnings. Is it all right that I did that, my Lord?’

‘Perfectly all right, Captain.’

‘Ah – I’m only a sergeant, my Lord.’

‘Not any more, you aren’t. What’s your name, Captain?’

‘Torgun, my Lord.’

‘All right then, Captain Torgun. Go back to your men and spread them out so that you’ve got every possible escape route covered.’ Kamion lifted a curved hunting horn. ‘When you hear me blow on this, order your men to charge. I want everyone wearing a bear-skin clapped in chains.’

‘They’ll probably try to fight, my Lord. Do I have permission to use force?’

‘Do whatever it takes, Captain Torgun.’

The newly promoted soldier’s answering grin was one of the most evil I’ve ever seen. ‘Try not to kill too many of them, Captain,’ I added – just as a precaution, you understand.

The look of innocence he gave me was so transparent that I almost burst out laughing. ‘Of course not, Lady Polgara. I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Then he slithered away.

‘Good move there, Kamion,’ Earl Jarok whispered hoarsely. ‘Field promotions are one of the best ways to get good officers. That fellow would follow you into fire right now.’

‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, my Lord. Being wet’s bad enough.’

The party around the bonfire was getting rowdier as the ale flowed freely. The Cultists were all shuffling around the fire, tankards in hand, trying to imitate the shambling walk of their totem. Then Elthek came up the gorge and trailing along behind him were most of the priests of Belar on the Isle of the Winds.

‘We’re going to decimate the priesthood, I’m afraid,’ Kamion whispered to Anrak and me.

‘It won’t be hard to find replacements, Kamion,’ Anrak assured him. The priestly life’s fairly comfortable, and it doesn’t involve much sweating.’

Then Elthek addressed the shaggy congregation for an hour or so, punctuating his oration with simple tricks of ‘magic’. The flames in the bonfire changed colors several times as the Deacon’s underlings surreptitiously tossed assorted powders into the coals. A ‘ghost’, which was no more than a gauzy veil suspended on a black string, appeared, billowing in the heat of the fire. A second moon, actually a large glass globe filled with fireflies, rose over the gorge. Rocks started to bleed, and a ‘dead’ sheep was resurrected. It was all fairly transparent, but Elthek ladled on high drama and the drunken Cultists were all suitably impressed.

‘What do you think, Pol?’ Kamion asked me. ‘Is that witchcrafty enough for our purposes?’

‘Witchcrafty?’ I asked in some amusement.

‘I’ve always had this way with words,’ he said modestly.

‘You’re the expert in this area, Pol,’ Anrak said. ‘Is Elthek really performing magic out there?’

‘No. It’s all pure fakery. It should be enough to convict him, though.’

‘My feelings exactly,’ Kamion said. He reached for his hunting horn.

‘Aren’t you going to wait for the naked girls?’ Anrak sounded disappointed.

‘Ah – no, Anrak. I don’t think so. Let’s not complicate the trial by adding women to the list of the accused.’ He lifted his horn and blew a long, brazen note, calling in Captain Torgun and his men.

The soldiers were well trained, and the Cultists were far gone in drink, so it wasn’t even a very interesting fight, and the casualties were minimal. Elthek kept screaming, ‘How dare you?’ but I noticed that he didn’t reach for his sword. Finally, Captain Torgun grew tired of the screaming and stilled the Deacon’s objections with his fist.

It was dawn by the time the line of chained Cultists were dragged into Riva’s city. We threw them into the dungeon under the temple of Belar and then Kamion spoke briefly with Captain Torgun before he, Anrak and I escorted our group of witnesses back up the hill to the Citadel to advise Daran that our little excursion had been successful.

The ‘trial’ took place the following day in the public square in front of the temple. I noticed that Captain Torgun’s soldiers had passed the time erecting a fair number of posts in the square and piling firewood around them – just in case.

‘Why are we doing this here instead of in the throne room?’ I asked Daran before the proceedings began.

‘I want everyone here in the city to hear the testimony, Aunt Pol,’ he explained. ‘Let’s fix it so that the Bear-Cult doesn’t reappear just as soon as my back’s turned.’

Daran sat on a large, ornate chair – Elthek’s, actually – which Torgun’s soldiers had dragged out of the temple and placed where everyone could see it. Then the Bear-Cultists, still in chains and seriously disheveled, were dragged up out of the temple dungeon and forced to sit in a huddled group at the foot of the broad stair that led up to the temple door. The square was full of people as the proceedings began.

Kamion, Warder of Riva, rose to his feet to address the assembled citizens. ‘A crime has been committed here on our island, my friends,’ he began, ‘and we are gathered here to sit in judgment.’

‘What crime are we talking about, Lord Brand?’ a well-coached townsman demanded in a booming voice that could be heard all over the square. The Rivan Warder, I noted, was not the sort to leave anything to chance.

‘The crime of witchcraft,’ Kamion replied.

Elthek, battered and bruised by Captain Torgun’s fists, tried to leap to his feet, but that’s a little hard to do when you’re chained to other people.

The proceedings went smoothly, I thought. Kamion’s questioning was masterly, and the witnesses all confirmed the fact that Elthek had performed ‘magic’ at the gathering in the gorge.