The platitudes came thick and fast after that, but nobody chose to talk about the weather for some reason.
The Rivan girls grew sulkier and sulkier, and just to tweak them a little more I dispensed a number of dazzlingly regal smiles. My suitors found those smiles absolutely enchanting; the girls didnt.
The afternoon progressed in a very satisfactory way, and then the musicians lutanists for the most part struck up a new tune, and a thin, weedy young man dressed all in black and wearing a studiously melancholy expression pushed his way forward. Would you care to dance, Lady Polgara? he asked me in a broken-hearted tone. He bowed. Permit me to introduce myself. Im Merot the poet, and I might be able to compose a sonnet for you while we dance.
Im very sorry, my lord Merot, I replied, but Ive lived in isolation, so I dont really know how to dance. It wasnt true, of course. Beldaran and I had been inventing dances since we were children, but I was fairly certain that the rhythm of a meadowlarks song might be just a little difficult for this self-proclaimed poet to comprehend.
Merot was obviously a poseur, but so were most of the others. He seemed to think that his carefully manicured short black beard and tragic expression made him irresistible to all the girls. I didnt have too much trouble resisting him, though. Maybe it was his rancid breath that made me keep my distance.
Ah, he responded to my confession of terpsichorean ineptitude, what a pity. Then his gloomy eyes brightened. I could give you private lessons, if youd like.
We might discuss that sometime, I parried, still staying back from that foul breath.
Might I offer you a poem then? he suggested.
That would be nice.
What a mistake that was! Merot assumed an oratorical stance and began to recite in a tediously slow manner with that gloomy voice of his. He spoke as if the fate of the universe hung on his every word. I didnt notice the sun darken, though, or feel any earthquakes.
He went on and on and on, and his pose as a poet was much, much better than his actual verse. Of course I wasnt really acquainted with poetry at that stage of my life, but it seemed to me that lingering lovingly over every single syllable is not really the best way to keep the attention of your audience. At first I found him tedious. Tedious descended rather rapidly into boring, and boring disintegrated into near despair. I rather theatrically rolled my eyes upward. Several of my suitors caught the hint immediately and moved in to rescue me.
Merot was still standing in the same place reciting as the crowd flowed away from him. He might have loved me, but he obviously loved himself more.
The other ladies in the room were growing increasingly discontented, I noticed. Despite their fairly obvious expressions of invitation, the dance floor remained deserted. My suitors evidently didnt want to be distracted. Quite a few of the ladies pled headaches and quietly left the room. It might have been my imagination, but after they left I seemed to hear a gnawing sound a sound that was remarkably like the sound of someone eating her own liver. There was a certain musical quality about that to my ears.
Then, as evening began to descend upon the Isle of the Winds, Taygon came up to join me. Taygon did not have to elbow his way through the crowd. Everybody got out of his way. He was big. He was burly. He was garbed in chain mail. He had a huge blond beard. He wore a sword. Lady Polgara! he said in a booming voice, Ive been looking for you!
That was ominous. Im Taygon the Warrior. Im sure youve heard of me. My deeds are renowned throughout the length and breadth of Aloria.
Im terribly sorry, Lord Taygon, I apologized in mock confusion. I grew up in almost total isolation, so I dont really know whats going on in the world besides, Im just a silly girl.
Ill kill any man who says so! He glared at the others threateningly.
How on earth was I going to deal with this barbarian? Then I made a mistake one of several that day. Ah I floundered, since Ive been so out of touch, Id be enthralled to hear of some of your exploits.
Please be a little more forgiving. I was an absolute novice that day, after all.
My pleasure, Lady Polgara. It might have been his pleasure, but it certainly wasnt mine. Did he have to be so graphic? As he spoke, I suddenly found myself awash in a sea of blood and looking out at an entire mountain range of loose brains. Brightly colored entrails snarled around my feet, and disconnected extremities floated by twitching.
It was only by a supreme act of will that I was able to keep from throwing up all over the front of his chain-mail shirt.
Then dear, dear Kamion rescued me. Excuse me, Sir Taygon, but Lady Polgaras sister, our future queen, requires her presence. I know that well all be made desolate by her absence, but a royal command cannot be disobeyed. Im certain that a warrior of your vast experience can understand the importance of obeying orders.
Oh, of course, Kamion, Taygon replied automatically. He bowed clumsily to me. You must hurry, Lady Polgara. We mustnt keep the Queen waiting.
I curtsied to him, not trusting myself to answer. Then Kamion took my elbow and guided me away.
When you come back, Taygon called after me, Ill tell you about how I disemboweled an offensive Arend.
I can hardly wait, I said rather weakly over my shoulder.
Do you really want to hear about it, my Lady? Kamion murmured to me.
Frankly, my dear Kamion, Id sooner take poison
He laughed. I rather thought you might feel that way about it. Your face was definitely taking on a slight greenish cast there toward the end.
Oh, Kamion was smooth. I began to admire him almost in spite of myself.
Well? my sister asked when I rejoined her, how was it?
Just wonderful! I replied exultantly. They were all smitten with me. I was the absolute center of attention.
Youve got a cruel streak in you, Polgara.
Whats that supposed to mean?
Ive been cooped up in here all afternoon, and youve come back to rub my nose in all your conquests.
Would I do that? I asked her archly.
Of course you would. I can see you absolutely running through the halls to get back so that you could gloat Then she laughed. Im sorry, Pol. I couldnt resist that.
Youre above all that now, Beldaran, I told her. Youve already caught the man you want. Im still fishing.
Im not sure that Im the one who really caught him. There were a lot of other people involved in that fishing trip, too: Aldur, father mother, too, probably. The notion of an arranged marriage is just a little humiliating.
You do love Riva, dont you?
Of course. Its humiliating all the same. All right, tell me what happened. I want every single detail.
I described my afternoon, and my sister and I spent a great deal of our time laughing. Even as I had, Beldaran particularly enjoyed the reaction of the Rivan girls.
That afternoon was my last unsupervised excursion into the untamed jungle of the adolescent mating ritual. From then on, father sat scowling in a spot where everybody could see him. It wasnt really necessary, of course, but there was no way that father could know that mother was already keeping an eye on me. His presence did set certain limits on the enthusiasm of my suitors, and I was of two minds about that. None of my suitors were likely to go too far with him sitting there, but I was fairly sure that I could take care of myself, and fathers insistence on being present robbed me of the chance to find out if I could.
For some reason Kamion made father particularly nervous, and I couldnt understand exactly why. Kamion had exquisite manners, and he never once did anything at all offensive. Why did my aged sire dislike him so much?
Got you that time, didnt I, Old Wolf?
Then King Cherek and his sons, Dras Bull-neck and Algar Fleet-foot, arrived for the wedding, and things began to get just a bit more serious. Despite the way Beldaran and Riva felt about each other, my sister had been right. Theirs was an arranged marriage. The possibility that my father might also decide to arrange one for me just to protect me from all those fawning suitors raised its ugly head. There was in those days probably even still existing the idea that women are intellectually inferior to men. Men did and many still do automatically assume that women are empty-headed ninnies wholl fall prey to the first glib young man who comes along with certain ideas in his mind. The result, of course, is the virtual imprisonment of almost all women of a certain rank. What my father and all those other primitives cant seem to realize is that well resent that imprisonment and go to almost any lengths to circumvent it. That might help to explain why so many girls become involved with inappropriate young men. In most cases the character of the young man doesnt make a jot of difference. The girl in question is driven by a desire to show them that she can do it, rather than by empty-headed lust.
Thats frequently the reason for so many arranged marriages. The father marries his daughter off as soon as possible to protect her. After she marries, any dalliances she chooses to take up to amuse herself are her husbands problem.
The possibility that father might choose to shackle me to either Dras or Algar made me distinctly uneasy for a while.