Dont be nasty, Beldaran told me. I know youre more clever than I am, Pol. You dont have to hit me over the head with it. Now why dont you stop all this foolishness and come back home where you belong?
The guiding principle of my entire life at that point had been my rather conceited belief that nobody told me what to do. Beldaran disabused me of that notion right then and there. She could and occasionally did give me orders. The implied threat that she would withhold her love from me brought me to heel immediately.
The three of us walked on back to fathers tower. He seemed a little startled by my sudden change of heart, and I believe that even to this day he doesnt fully understand the power Beldaran had over me.
Perhaps it was to cover his confusion that he offered me some left-over breakfast. I discovered immediately that this most powerful sorcerer in the world was woefully inadequate in the kitchen. Did you do this to perfectly acceptable food on purpose, father? I asked him. You must have. Nobody could have done something this bad by accident.
If you dont like it, Pol, theres the kitchen.
Why, I do believe youre right, father, I replied in mock surprise. How strange that I didnt notice that. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that youve got books and scrolls piled all over the working surfaces.
He shrugged. They give me something to read while Im cooking.
I knew that something must have distracted you. You couldnt have ruined all this food if youd been paying attention. Then I laid my arm on the counter-top and swept all his books and scrolls off on to the floor. From now on, keep your toys out of my kitchen, father. Next time, Ill burn them.
Your kitchen?
Somebodys going to have to do the cooking, and youre so inept that you cant be trusted near a stove.
He was too busy picking up his books to answer.
And that established my place in our peculiar little family. I love to cook anyway, so I didnt mind, but in time I came to wonder if I hadnt to some degree demeaned myself by taking on the chore of cooking. After a week or so, or three, things settled down, and our positions in the family were firmly established. I complained a bit now and then, but in reality I wasnt really unhappy about it.
There was something else that I didnt like, though. I soon found that I couldnt undo the latch on the amulet father had made for me, but I was something of an expert on latches and I soon worked it out. The secret had to do with time, and it was so complex that I was fairly certain father hadnt devised it all by himself. He had sculpted the amulet at Aldurs instruction, after all, and only a God could have conceived of a latch that existed in two different times simultaneously.
Why dont we just let it go at that? The whole concept still gives me a headache, so I dont think Ill go into it any further.
My duties in the kitchen didnt really fill my days. I soon bullied Beldaran into washing the dishes after breakfast while I prepared lunch, which was usually something cold. A cold lunch never hurt anybody, after all, and once that was done, I was free to return to my Tree and my birds. Neither father nor my sister objected to my daily excursions, since it cut down on my opportunities to direct clever remarks at father.
And so the seasons turned, as they have a habit of doing.
We were pretty well settled in after the first year or so, and father had invited his brothers over for supper. I recall that evening rather vividly, since it opened my eyes to something I wasnt fully prepared to accept. Id always taken it as a given that my uncles had good sense, but they treated my disreputable father as if he were some sort of minor deity. I was in the midst of preparing a fairly lavish supper when I finally realized just how much they deferred to him.
I forget exactly what they were talking about Ctuchik, maybe, or perhaps it was Zedar but uncle Beldin rather casually asked my father, What do you think, Belgarath? Youre first disciple, after all, so you know the Masters mind better than we do.
Father grunted sourly. And if it turns out that Im wrong, youll throw it in my teeth, wont you?
Naturally. Beldin grinned at him. Thats one of the joys of being a subordinate, isnt it?
I hate you, Father said.
No you dont, Belgarath, Beldin said, his grin growing even broader. Youre just saying that to make me feel better.
I cant count the number of times Ive heard that particular exchange between those two. They always seem to think its hilarious for some reason.
The following morning I went on down to my Tree to ponder this peculiar behavior on the part of my uncles. Evidently father had done some fairly spectacular things in the dim past. My feelings about him were uncomplimentary, to say the very least. In my eyes he was lazy, more than a bit silly, and highly unreliable. I dimly began to realize that my father is a very complex being. On the one hand, hes a liar, a thief, a lecher, and a drunkard. On the other, however, hes Aldurs first disciple, and he can quite possibly stop the sun in its orbit if he wants to. Id been deliberately seeing only his foolish side because of my jealousy. Now I had to come to grips with the other side of him, and I deeply resented the shattering of my illusions about him.
I began to watch him more closely after I returned home that day, hoping that I could find some hints about his duality and even more fervently hoping that I could not. Losing the basis for ones prejudices is always very painful. All I really saw, though, was a rather seedy-looking old man intently studying a parchment scroll.
Dont do that, Polgara, he said, not even bothering to look up from his scroll.
Do what?
Stare at me like that.
How did you know I was staring?
I could feel it, Pol. Now stop.
That shook my certainty about him more than I cared to admit. Evidently Beldin and the twins were right. There were a number of very unusual things about my father. I decided Id better have a talk with mother about this.
Hes a wolf, Pol, mother told me, and wolves play. You take life far too seriously, and his playing irritates you. He can be very serious when its necessary, but when its not, he plays. Its the way of wolves.
But he demeans himself so much with all that foolishness.
Doesnt your particular foolishness demean you? Youre far too somber, Pol. Learn how to smile and to have some fun once in a while.
Life is serious, mother.
I know, but its also supposed to be fun. Learn how to enjoy life from your father, Polgara. Therell be plenty of time to weep, but you have to laugh as well.
Mothers tolerance troubled me a great deal, and I found her observations about my nature even more troubling.
Ive had a great deal of experience with adolescents over the centuries, and Ive discovered that as a group these awkward half-children take themselves far too seriously. Moreover, appearance is everything for the adolescent. I suppose its a form of play-acting. The adolescent knows that the child is lurking just under the surface, but hed sooner die than let it out, and I was no different. I was so intent on being grown-up that I simply couldnt relax and enjoy life.
Ive had a great deal of experience with adolescents over the centuries, and Ive discovered that as a group these awkward half-children take themselves far too seriously. Moreover, appearance is everything for the adolescent. I suppose its a form of play-acting. The adolescent knows that the child is lurking just under the surface, but hed sooner die than let it out, and I was no different. I was so intent on being grown-up that I simply couldnt relax and enjoy life.
Most people go through this stage and outgrow it. Many, however, do not. The pose becomes more important than reality, and these poor creatures become hollow people, forever striving to fit themselves into an impossible mold.
Enough. Im not going to turn this into a treatise on the ins and outs of human development. Until a person learns to laugh at himself, though, his life will be a tragedy at least thats the way hell see it.
The seasons continued their stately march, and the little lecture mother had delivered to me lessened my interior antagonism toward father. I did maintain my exterior facade, however. I certainly didnt want the old fool to start thinking Id gone soft on him.
And then, shortly after my sister and I turned sixteen, the Master paid my father a call and gave him some rather specific instructions. One of us either Beldaran or myself was to become the wife of Iron-grip and hence the Rivan Queen. Father, with rather uncharacteristic wisdom, chose to keep the visit to himself. Although I certainly had no particular interest in marrying at that stage of my life, my enthusiasm for competition might have led me into all sorts of foolishness.
My father quite candidly admits that he was sorely tempted to get rid of me by the simple expedient of marrying me off to poor Riva. The Purpose Destiny, if you wish which guides us all prevented that, however. Beldaran had been preparing for her marriage to Iron-grip since before she was born. Quite obviously, I hadnt been.
I resented my rejection, though. Isnt that idiotic? Id been involved in a competition for a prize I didnt want, but when I lost the competition, I felt the sting of losing quite profoundly. I didnt even speak to my father for several weeks, and I was even terribly snippy with my sister.
Then Anrak came down into the Vale to fetch us. With the exception of an occasional Ulgo and a few messengers from King Algar, Anrak was perhaps the first outsider Id ever met and certainly the first whoever showed any interest in me. I rather liked him, actually. Of course he did propose marriage to me, and a girl always has a soft spot in her heart for the young man who asks her for the first time. Anrak was an Alorn, with all that implies. He was big, burly, and bearded, and there was good-humored simplicity about him that I rather liked. I didnt like the way he always reeked of beer, however.
I was busy sulking in my Tree when he arrived, so we didnt even have time to get acquainted before he proposed. He came swaggering down the Vale one beautiful morning in early spring. My birds alerted me to his approach, so he didnt really surprise me when he came in under the branches of my Tree.
Hello, up there, he called to me.
I looked down from my perch at him. What do you want? It wasnt really a very gracious greeting.
Im Anrak Rivas cousin and I came here to escort your sister to the Isle so Riva can marry her.
That immediately put him in the camp of the enemy. Go away, I told him bluntly.
Theres something I need to ask you first.
What?
Well, like I said, Im Rivas cousin, and he and I usually do things together. We got drunk together for the first time, and visited a brothel together for the first time, and even both killed our first man in the same battle, so as you can see, were fairly close.
So?
Well, Rivas going to marry your sister, and I thought it might be sort of nice if I got married, too. What do you say?
Are you proposing marriage to me?
I thought I said that. This is the first time Ive ever proposed to anybody, so I probably didnt do a very good job. What do you think?
I think youre insane. We dont even know each other.
Therell be plenty of time for us to get to know each other after the ceremony. Well, yes or no?
You couldnt fault Anraks directness. Here was a man who got right down to the point. I laughed at him, and he looked just a bit injured by that. Whats so funny? he demanded in a hurt tone of voice.
You are. Do you actually think Id marry a complete stranger? One who looks like a rat hiding in a clump of bushes?
Whats that supposed to mean?
Youve got hair growing all over your face.
Thats my beard. All Alorns wear beards.
Could that possibly be because Alorns havent invented the razor yet? Tell me, Anrak, have your people come up with the idea of the wheel yet? Have you discovered fire, by any chance?
You dont have to be insulting. Just say yes or no.
All right. No! Was there any part of that you didnt understand? Then I warmed to my subject. The whole notion is absurd, I told him. I dont know you, and I dont like you. I dont know your cousin, and I dont like him either. As a matter of fact, I dont like your entire stinking race. All the misery in my lifes been caused by Alorns. Did you really think Id actually marry one? Youd better get away from me, Anrak, because if you dont, Ill turn you into a toad.
You dont have to get nasty. Youre no prize yourself, you know.
I wont repeat what I said to him then this document might just fall into the hands of children. I spoke at some length about his parents, his extended family, his race, his ancestors and probable descendants. I drew rather heavily on uncle Beldins vocabulary in the process, and Anrak frequently looked startled at the extent of my command of the more colorful side of language.
Well, he said, if thats the way you feel about it, theres not much point in our continuing this conversation, is there? And then he rather huffily turned and strode back up the Vale, muttering to himself.
Poor Anrak. I was feeling a towering resentment over the fact that some unknown Alorn was going to take my sister away from me, and so he had the privilege of receiving the full weight of my displeasure. Moreover, motherd strongly advised me to steer clear of any lasting entanglements at this stage of my life. Adolescent girls have glandular problems that sometimes lead them to make serious mistakes.
Why dont we just let it go at that?
I had absolutely no intention of going to the Isle of the Winds to witness this obscene ceremony. If Beldaran wanted to marry this Alorn butcher, she was going to have to do it without my blessing or my presence.
When they were ready to leave, however, my sister came down to my Tree and persuaded me to change my mind. Despite that sweet exterior that deceived everyone else, my sister Beldaran could be absolutely ruthless when she wanted something. She knew me better than anyone else in the world did or could so she knew exactly where all my soft spots were. To begin with, she spoke to me exclusively in twin, a language Id almost forgotten. There were subtleties in twin mostly of Beldarans devising that no linguist, even the most gifted, could ever unravel, and most of them stressed her dominant position. Beldaran was accustomed to giving me orders, and I was accustomed to obeying. Her persuasion in this situation was, to put it honestly, brutal. She reminded me of every time in our lives when wed been particularly close, and she cast those reminders in a past tense peculiar to our private tongue that would more or less translate into never again, or over and done with. She had me in tears within five minutes and in utter anguish within ten. Stop! I cried out finally, unable to bear the implicit threat of a permanent severing of all contact any longer.