Everything was happening very fast now, with events piling on top of each other everywhere I turned, and yet in a very real sense I was just marking time, waiting for Geran to grow up and get married. I tend at times to get impatient, and just sitting around waiting drives me right up the wall, so, though there wasn’t really any need for it, I dusted off my story-teller costume and went out to have a look around.

My first stop was Annath, naturally. Geran was twelve or so now, and he was growing like a weed. His hair had grown even darker, and his voice was changing, sometimes coming out as a rich baritone and at other times cracking and squeaking. Quite often he sounded like a young rooster trying to crow.

‘Has he started to notice girls yet?’ I asked Pol when I’d gotten her off to one side.

‘Give him time, father,’ she replied. ‘Ildera’s only nine. Let’s not rush things.’

‘Ildera?’

‘The girl he’s going to marry.’

‘That doesn’t sound like a Sendarian name.’

‘It’s not. Ildera’s the daughter of a clan-chief of Algaria. Their pastures are just over on the other side of the border.’

I frowned. ‘Are you sure, Pol? I’d always assumed that the Godslayer’s mother was going to be a Sendar.’

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘I’m not sure. He’s supposed to be born here in Sendaria, so I guess I just jumped to the conclusion that his mother’d be a Sendar.’

‘All you had to do was ask me, father. I could have told you she’d be an Algar about six generations ago.’

‘You’re sure she’s the right one?’

‘Of course I’m sure.’

‘Have you told Geran yet?’

‘I don’t do that, father. You should know that by now. If you start telling young people whom they’re supposed to marry, they tend to get mule-headed about it.’

‘The Godslayer’s going to know.’

‘Not until I’m ready for him to know, he won’t.’

‘Pol, it’s written down in the Accords of Vo Mimbre. It’s right there in black and white that he’ll marry a Tolnedran Princess.’

‘It won’t mean a thing to him, father.’

‘How do you plan to keep it from him?’

‘I’m not going to teach him how to read, that’s how.’

‘You can’t do that! He has to know how to read! How’s he going to know what he’s supposed to do if he can’t read the Mrin?’

‘There’ll be time enough for him to learn to read later, old man. I didn’t start learning until after Beldaran got married, remember? If he’s the kind of person we think he’s going to be, he won’t have any trouble picking it up.’

I had my doubts about that, but I kept them to myself. ‘How much have you told Geran?’ I asked her.

‘Not very much. Young people have a tendency to blurt things out when they get excited. I’d rather that the people here in Annath didn’t know that they have royalty in their midst. Darral knows, of course, but he knows how to keep his mouth shut.’

‘Where is the boy this morning?’

‘He’s at the stone-quarry with his father - learning the trade.’

‘Working in a quarry can be dangerous, Pol,’ I objected.

‘He’ll be fine, father. Darral’s keeping an eye on him.’

‘I think I’ll go on over there.’

‘Why?’

‘I want to see if Darral might give his apprentice the rest of the day off.’

‘What for?’

‘So the boy and I can go fishing.’

‘Don’t you be getting him off alone and telling him things he doesn’t need to know yet.’

‘That wasn’t what I had in mind.’

‘Why do you want to take him fishing then?’

‘To catch fish, Pol. Isn’t that why people usually go fishing?’

She rolled her eyes upward. ‘Men!’ she said.

Geran and I spent a pleasurable afternoon working a mountain stream that tumbled down out of that little lake I mentioned before. We didn’t have much time to talk, because the fish were biting, and that kept us quite busy.

The next morning, I told them all good-bye and left for Erat. I wanted to look in on Durnik. I knew that he was the ‘Man with Two Lives’, but I didn’t realize at the time exactly what that was going to mean, nor just how important Durnik was going to be in all our lives. Now, of course, he’s my son-in-law and the most recent disciple of my Master.

Isn’t it strange how these things turn out?

Durnik was about a year younger than Geran, but he was already very strong. He was apprenticed to a blacksmith named Barl, and working around a forge is one of the fastest ways I know of to develop muscles.

Durnik was already a very serious young fellow, and he was growing up to be a typical Sendar, sober, industrious, and steadfastly moral. I seriously doubt that Durnik’s had an unclean or salacious thought in his entire life.

I broke a buckle on my pack - quite deliberately - and I stopped by Barl’s shop to get it fixed. Barl was busy shoeing a horse, so Durnik repaired my buckle. We talked for a little bit, and then I moved on.

I frankly doubt that my son-in-law even remembers that meeting. I do, though, because that brief conversation told me all I really needed to know about him.

After I left Barl’s smithy, I turned south and proceeded into Arendia to look in on the Wildantors. The most typical of the family was a young count, Reldegen, who seemed fully intent on going through his life with his rapier half-drawn. Reldegen was sort of what they had in mind when they came up with the term ‘hot-head’. He wasn’t quite as prone to disaster as his nephew, Lelldorin, would become, but he ran him a close second. I liked him, though.

When I left Arendia, I hurried on back to the Vale. Winter was coming anyway, and I wanted to find out if the twins had discovered anything new. Events were plunging ahead now, and scarcely a day went by that they didn’t crack open another passage in the Mrin.

It wasn’t until 5344 that the problem in Algaria was resolved. Young Hettar and his parents had been traveling alone near the Eastern Escarpment, and they were attacked by Murgos. The Murgos killed the boy’s parents and then dragged him behind a horse for several miles and left him for dead. Cho-Hag found him a couple of days later, and in time, adopted him. Hettar would be the next Chief of the clan-chiefs, and it wouldn’t take a clan war to get him there. That was a relief.

In the spring of the following year, the twins strongly suggested that I take Polgara to meet those young Alorns who would become so important to us later. ‘They really ought to get to know her, Belgarath,’ Belkira told me. ‘The time’s going to come when you’ll all be doing important things together, so they should be able to recognize her on sight. Alorns have some peculiar prejudices where women are concerned, so you’d better get them used to the idea that Pol’s no ordinary woman while they’re still young. We’ll go up to Annath with you and keep an eye on things while the two of you are gone.’

I couldn’t fault their reasoning, since they were Alorns themselves. Besides, Pol was vegetating in Annath, and I thought it might not be a bad idea for her to get away for a while.

You have no idea of how quickly she agreed with me about that.

We went on over to Algaria first, since it was right next door - so to speak - and we finally ran Cho-Hag down. Algars do move around a lot. Even at the age of seven, Hettar was a grim-faced little boy who spent almost every waking moment practicing with his weapons and his horses. His eyes went absolutely flat every time anyone even mentioned the word ‘Murgo.’ He obviously already had plans for what would become his life’s work. I don’t like Murgos all that much myself, but Hettar takes it to extremes.

All Alorns have heard of me and my daughter, of course, so Cho-Hag greeted us royally. I saw to it that Pol got the chance to talk with Hettar at some length, and she was very dubious about him when we left for Drasnia. ‘I think he’s hovering right on the verge of insanity, father,’ she told me. ‘He’ll be an absolute monster when he grows up, and he’ll eventually become King of the Algars.’

‘That’s a problem for the Murgos, isn’t it?’ I replied.

‘Don’t be so smug, old man. Hettar’s got all the makings of a berserker, and I think there’ll be times when that could put us all in danger. You do know that he’s a Sha-Dar, don’t you?’

‘Yes. I sensed that the first time I saw him. Does he know yet?’

‘He might. He knows that he’s a lot closer to horses than other Algars are. He may not have made the connection yet. Are the other two Alorns as wild as this one seems to be?’

‘I haven’t seen either of them in a while. Kheldar should be fairly civilized. He’s Drasnian, after all. I can’t make any promises about Barak. He’s Cherek, and that whole country’s full of wild-men.’

Prince Kheldar, the nephew of Rhodar, Crown Prince of Drasnia, was a small, wiry boy with a long, sharp nose, and he was already too clever by half. Even at ten, he was smarter than most full-grown men. He flattered Pol outrageously and won her over in about ten minutes. She liked him, but she was wise enough not to trust him.