“Because—?” He broke off, not knowing how to say it.
“We were closer than others and we were together for a very long time. Sometimes I wish that he could understand that we haven’t really been separated, but perhaps it’s too early.”
“It’s been three thousand years, Grandmother.”
“What is time to a wolf?” she asked cryptically. “The mating of wolves is permanent, and the grief caused by separation is also permanent. Perhaps someday—” Her voice trailed off wistfully, and then she sighed. “As soon as I leave, change back again. Belgarath will want you to hunt with him. It’s sort of a formality. You’ll understand when you’re back in the shape of a wolf.”
Garion nodded and began to form the image of the wolf in his mind. “One other thing, Belgarion.”
“Yes, Grandmother?”
“I do love you, you know.”
“I love you too, Grandmother.”
And then she was gone. Garion sighed and changed himself back into a wolf. And then he went out from that place to join Belgarath in the hunt.
Part Four
The Rivan Queen
22
The Princess Ce’Nedra was in a thoughtful, even pensive mood. Much as she had enjoyed the turmoil her periodic outbursts of temper had caused, she rather regretfully concluded that it was probably time to put them aside and make peace with Garion. They were going to be married, after all, and there was no real point in upsetting him any more than absolutely necessary. Her tantrums had established the fact that, although he might outrank her, she would not enter the marriage as his inferior, and that was really all she had wanted anyway. On the whole, the prospect of being married to Garion was not nearly as unpleasant as she pretended. She did love him after all, and now that he understood exactly how things were going to stand between them, everything was likely to be quite satisfactory. She decided to find him that very day and make peace with him.
The largest part of her attention that spring morning had been taken up by a book on protocol and a chart she was carefully drawing up. As Imperial Princess of Tolnedra and Queen of Riva, she would, of course, absolutely outrank every grand duchess of every house in the Empire. She was also fairly sure that she outranked Queen Islena of Cherek and Queen Silar of Algaria. Mayaserana’s status as co-ruler of Arendia raised some problems, however. It was entirely possible that she and Mayaserana were equals. Ce’Nedra made a note on a scrap of parchment reminding herself to have Ambassador Valgon direct an inquiry to the chief of protocol in Tol Honeth concerning the matter. She felt a nice little glow as she surveyed the chart. With the exception of Lady Polgara and the motherly little Queen Layla of Sendaria, to whom everyone deferred because she was such a dear, Ce’Nedra concluded that she would in fact outrank or at least equal every noble lady in the West.
Suddenly there was a shattering thunderclap so violent that it shook the very walls of the Citadel. Startled, Ce’Nedra glanced at the window. It was a bright, sunny morning. How could there be thunder? Another rending crash ripped the silence, and there was a frightened babble in the halls. Impatiently, the princess picked up a small silver bell and rang for her maid.
“Go see what’s happening,” she instructed the girl and returned to her study of the chart she had drawn. But there was another thunderous crash and even more shouting and confusion in the corridor outside. It was impossible! How could she concentrate with all that noise going on? Irritably she rose and went to the door.
People were running—actually fleeing. Just down the hall Queen Layla of Sendaria bolted from the door of Lady Polgara’s private apartment, her eyes wide with terror and her crown very nearly falling off.
“What is the matter, your majesty?” Ce’Nedra demanded of the little queen.
“It’s Polgara!” Queen Layla gasped, stumbling in her haste to escape. “She’s destroying everything in sight!”
“Lady Polgara?”
Another deafening crash sent the little queen reeling, and she clung to Ce’Nedra in terror. “Please, Ce’Nedra. Find out what’s wrong. Make her stop before she shakes down the entire fortress.”
“Me?”
“She’ll listen to you. She loves you. Make her stop.”
Without pausing to consider the possible danger, Ce’Nedra went quickly to Lady Polgara’s door and glanced inside. The apartment was a total shambles. Furniture was overturned; wall hangings had been ripped down; the windows were shattered and the air was full of smoke. Ce’Nedra had thrown enough tantrums in her life to appreciate artistry when she saw it, but the disaster inside Polgara’s apartment was so absolute that it went beyond art into the realms of natural catastrophe. Lady Polgara herself stood, wild-eyed and dishevelled in the center of the room, cursing incoherently in a dozen languages at once. In one hand she held a crumpled sheet of parchment; her other hand was raised like a claw before her, half clenched about an incandescent mass of blazing energy that she seemed to have summoned out of air itself and which she now fed with her own fury. The princess stood in awe as Polgara began a fresh tirade. The dreadful cursing began in a low contralto and rose in an awful crescendo into the upper registers and beyond. As she reached the limits of her voice, she began slashing the air with the blazing mass in her hand, punctuating each curse with a crackling burst of raw energy that sizzled from between her fingers like a bolt of lightning to shatter whatever her eyes fell upon. With a series of vile oaths, she detonated six teacups in a row into shards, then quite methodically she went back down the line, exploding the saucers upon which they had sat. Almost as an afterthought, she blew the table into splinters.
Ce’Nedra heard a strangled gasp directly behind her. King Anheg, the blood drained from his face, looked once through the door, then turned and ran.
“Lady Polgara,” Ce’Nedra remonstrated to the sorceress, trying not so much to reason with her as to minimize the destruction.
Polgara shattered four priceless vases standing on the mantelpiece with four precisely separate explosions. Outside the window, the bright spring morning vanished as if the sun had suddenly been extinguished, and there was a sullen rumble of thunder that Ce’Nedra prayed devoutly was natural.
“Whatever is the matter?” the princess asked, hoping to draw the enraged sorceress into explanation rather than more curses. It was the curses that had to be headed off. Polgara seemed to have a deep-seated need to emphasize her oaths with explosions.
Polgara, however, did not reply. Instead she merely threw the parchment at Ce’Nedra, turned, and blew a marble statue into fine white gravel. Wild-eyed, she wheeled about, looking for something else to break, but there was very little left in the smoking room that she had not already reduced to rubble.
“No!” Ce’Nedra cried out sharply as the raging woman’s eyes fell on the exquisite crystal wren Garion had given her. The princess knew that Polgara valued the glass bird more than anything else she possessed, and she leaped forward to protect the delicate piece.
“Get it,” Polgara snarled at her from between clenched teeth. “Take it out of my sight.” Her eyes burned with a terrible need to destroy something else. She spun and hurled the incandescent ball of fire she had wielded out through the shattered window. The explosion, when it burst in the suddenly murky air outside, was ghastly. With her fists clenched tightly at her sides, she raised her distorted face and began to curse again. From roiling black clouds that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, shattering bolts of lightning began to rain down on the island. No longer satisfied with localized destruction, Polgara expanded her rage to rake the Isle and the Sea of the Winds with sizzling fire and ear-splitting thunder. Then, with a dreadful intensity, she raised one fist and suddenly opened it. The downpour of rain she called was beyond belief. Her glittering eyes narrowed, and she raised her other fist. The rain instantly turned to hail-great, jagged chunks of ice that crashed and splintered against the rocks to fill the air with flying fragments and thick steam.