I am, however, convinced that father exaggerated the contention between the Gods that supposedly erupted following the destruction of the Marags. Nedra was clearly unhappy with his people for their atrocious behavior, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that Belar sent his Chereks to the Tolnedran coast at the invitation of his brother. When you want to punish a Tolnedran, all you have to do is take the fruits of his thievery away from him.
The raids continued for several centuries until, in the mid-twenty-sixth century, Ran Borune I drove his fat, lazy legions out of their garrisons and ordered them to start earning their pay.
My father, my uncles, and I really didn’t pay too much attention to the bickering between the Tolnedrans and the Chereks, but continued our ongoing struggle with the Mrin Codex. We did pay attention when Ctuchik began sending more and more Murgos down the Eastern Escarpment into Algaria in probing raids that had two basic purposes. Ctuchik wanted to check the defenses of the Algars, certainly, but he also wanted to mount his warrior class on better horses. Murgo ponies were about the size of large dogs, and Algar horses were vastly superior. My father spent a great deal of time in Algaria during the twenty-second and twenty-third centuries devising cavalry tactics which the Algars use even to this day. When Ctuchik’s losses became unacceptable, those raids were largely discontinued. Part of the charm of Torak’s personality was derived from the fact that he viewed his Angaraks as little more than breeding stock, a view that Ctuchik shared. Torak’s third disciple wanted to increase his herd, not diminish it.
The endless civil war in Arendia continued – and continued, and continued – as the three warring duchies maneuvered, connived, and formed tentative alliances – often dissolved in the middle of a battle. It was ultimately the turmoil in Arendia that took me out of the seclusion of the Vale and back into the world again.
My three hundredth birthday had passed more or less unnoticed. Father maintains that I went to Vo Wacune in the twenty-fifth century, which isn’t too far off the mark. He only missed by a hundred years, and old people are always a little vague about dates.
My, that was fun, wasn’t it, father?
Actually, my excursion into Arendia started in the year 2312. I was asleep one night – despite father’s snoring – and I awoke with that restless feeling that there were eyes on me. I rolled over and saw the ghostly form of the white snowy owl glowing in the moonlight in my window. It was mother. ‘Polgara,’ she said crisply, ‘you’d better pack a few things. You’re going to Vo Wacune.’
‘Whatever for?’ I demanded.
‘Ctuchik’s stirring up trouble in Arendia.’
‘The Arends don’t need any help, mother. They can stir up trouble enough by themselves without any outside assistance.’
“Things are a little more serious this time, Pol. Ctuchik has underlings posing as Tolnedran merchants in each of the duchies. They’re using various stories to persuade the three dukes that Ran Vordue is offering an alliance, but Ran Vordue doesn’t know anything about it. If Ctuchik’s plan works, there’ll be a war between Arendia and Tolnedra. The Wacite duke’s the most intelligent of the three, so go to Vo Wacune, find out what’s going on, and put a stop to it. The Master’s depending on you, Pol.’
‘I’ll leave at once, mother,’ I promised.
The next morning I began to pack.
‘Moving, Pol?’ father asked mildly. ‘Was it something I said?’
‘I’ve got something to attend to in Arendia, father.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘That’s none of your business, Old Man,’ I told him. ‘I’m going to need a horse. Get me one.’
‘Now look here, Pol – ’
‘Never mind, father. I’ll do it myself.’
‘I want to know what you think you’re going to do in Arendia, Pol.’
‘Wanting and getting are two different things, father. The Master’s told me to go to Arendia to fix something. I know the way, so you won’t have to come along. Now, will you go to the Algars and get me a horse, or am I going to have to take care of it myself?’
He spluttered a bit, but by midmorning there was a saddled chestnut mare named Lady waiting for me at the foot of the tower. Lady was not quite as large as Baron had been, but she and I got along well.
It was late afternoon before I caught the familiar sense of father’s presence coming from a few miles behind. Actually, I’d been wondering what’d been keeping him.
I rode north along the eastern fringes of Ulgoland and then crossed the Sendarian mountains into Wacite territory with father tailing along behind me, changing his form every hour or so.
I crossed the upper reaches of the Camaar River and entered the vast forest of northern Arendia, and it wasn’t too long before I encountered a Wacite patrol under the command of an obviously inexperienced young nobleman with an attitude problem. ‘Hold, wench!’ he commanded haughtily as he and his men came crashing out of the bushes. Wench? The young man and I weren’t getting off to a good start here. ‘Wither goest thou?’ he demanded arrogantly.
‘Vo Wacune, my Lord,’ I replied politely.
I want you all to appreciate – and admire – my inhuman self-control during that incident. I didn’t even once consider turning him into a toad – well, not very seriously anyway.
‘What is thy business in our fair city?’ he demanded.
‘It is just that, my Lord – my business.’
‘Rise not above thyself, wench. The commons do not speak thus to their betters. Methinks ‘twere best that I take thee into custody, for thy speech doth proclaim thee alien, and aliens are not welcome in this realm.’
‘That might explain thy lack of manners and good breeding, surly boy,’ I said bluntly. ‘Contact with civilized people would possibly have improved thee, though that is much to hope for.’ I sighed. This is burdensome, but it doth appear that the thankless task of educating thee in civil usage falleth to me. Attend to my words most acutely, uncouth knave, for thou shalt discover me to be a most exacting instructor.’ I gathered in my Will.
He gaped at me. Evidently no one had ever chided him about his bad manners before. Then he half-turned, obviously intending to speak sharply to his snickering troops.
‘At the outset I must tell thee that thou must give me thine undivided attention whilst I am instructing thee,’ I told him coldly. I was a dozen feet away from him, and there was nothing visible to account for the ringing blow that took him full in the face. It wasn’t just a little slap either, and he rocked back in his saddle, his eyes slightly glazed.