It was there, in that quiet sunlit chamber, that Garion passed a
small crossroad. The prejudice against Mandorailen that Lelldorin's
unthinking partisanship had instilled in him finally shattered and fell
away. He felt a surge of feelings - not pity, for they would not have
accepted pity, but compassion rather. More than that, there was the
faint beginning of an understanding of the honor and towering pride
which, though utterly selfless, was the foundation of that tragedy which
had existed in Arendia for uncounted centuries.
For perhaps a half hour more Mandorallen and the Lady Nerina sat,
speaking hardly at all now, their eyes lost in each other's faces while
Garion, near to tears, stood his enforced watch over them. And then
Durnik came to tell them that Aunt Pol and Mister Wolf were getting
ready to leave.
Part Two - TOLNEDRA
Chapter Twelve
A BRASSY CHORUS OF HORNS saluted them from the battlements of Vo
Mimbre as they rode out of the city accompanied by twoscore armored
knights and by King Korodullin himself. Garion glanced back once and
thought he saw the Lady Nerina standing upon the wall above the arched
gate, though he could not be sure. The lady did not wave, and
Mandorallen did not look back. Garion, however, very nearly held his
breath until Vo Mimbre was out of sight.It was midafternoon by the time
they reached the ford which crossed the River Arend into Tolnedra, and
the bright sun sparkled on the river. The sky was very blue overhead,
and the colored pennons on the lances of the escorting knights snapped
in the breeze. Garion felt a desperate urgency, an almost unbearable
necessity to cross the river and to leave Arendia and the terrible
things that had happened there behind.
"Hail and farewell, Holy Belgarath," Korodullin said at the water's
edge. "I will, as thou hast advised me, begin my preparations. Arendia
will be ready. I pledge my life to it."
"And I'll keep you advised of our progress from time to time," Mister Wolf said.
"I will also examine the activities of the Murgos within my kingdom,"
Korodullin said. "If what thou hast told me should prove true, as I
doubt not that it shall, then I will expell them from Arendia. I will
seek them out, one and all, and harry them out of the land. I will make
their lives a burden and an affliction to them for sowing discord and
contention among my subjects."
Wolf grinned at him. "That's an idea that appeals to me. Murgos are
an arrogant people, and a little affliction now and then teaches them
humility." He reached out and took the king's hand. "Good-bye,
Korodullin. I hope the world's happier next time we meet."
"I will pray that it may be so," the young king said.
Then Mister Wolf led the way down into the rippling water of the
shallow ford. Beyond the river Imperial Tolnedra waited, and from the
banks behind them the Mimbrate knights saluted with a great fanfare on
their horns.
As they emerged on the far side of the river, Garion looked around,
trying to see some difference in terrain or foliage which might
distinguish Arendia from Tolnedra, but there seemed to be none. The
land, indifferent to human boundaries, flowed on unchanged.
About a half mile from the river they entered the forest of Vordue,
an extensive tract of well-kept woodland which extended from the sea to
the foothills of the mountains to the east. Once they were under the
trees, they stopped and changed back into their traveling clothes.
"I think we might as well keep the guise of merchants," Mister Wolf
said, settling with obvious comfort back into his patched rust-colored
tunic and mismatched shoes. "It won't fool the Grolims, of course, but
it will satisfy the Tolnedrans we meet along the way. We can deal with
the Grolims in other ways."
"Are there any signs of the Orb about?" Barak rumbled as he stowed his bearskin cloak and helmet in one of the packs.
"A hint or two," Wolf said, looking around. "I'd guess that Zedar went through here a few weeks ago."
"We don't seem to be gaining on him much," Silk said, pulling on his leather vest.
"We're holding our own at least. Shall we go?"
They remounted and continued along the Tolnedran highway, which ran
straight through the forest in the afternoon sun. After a league or so,
they came to a wide place in the road where a single whitewashed stone
building, low and red-roofed, stood solidly at the roadside. Several
soldiers lounged indolently about, but their armor and equipment seemed
less well-cared-for than that of the legionnaires Garion had seen
before.
"Customs station," Silk said. "Tolnedrans like to put them far enough
from the border so that they don't interfere with legitimate
smuggling."
"Those are very slovenly legionnaires," Durnik said disapprovingly.
"They aren't legionnaires," Silk explained. "They're soldiers of the customs service-local troops. There's a great difference."
"I can see that," Durnik said.
A soldier wearing a rusty breastplate and carrying a short spear
stepped into the road and held up his hand. "Customs inspection," he
announced in a bored tone. "His excellency will be with you in a moment
or two. You can take your horses over there." He pointed to a kind of
yard at the side of the building.
"Is trouble likely?" Mandorallen asked. The knight had removed his
armor and now wore the mail suit and surcoat in which he customarily
traveled.
"No," Silk said. "The customs agent will ask a few questions, and then we'll bribe him and be on our way."
"Bribe?" Durnik asked.
Silk shrugged. "Of course. That's the way things are in Tolnedra.
Better let me do the talking. I've been through all this before."
The customs agent, a stout, balding man in a belted gown of a rusty
brown color, came out of the stone building, brushing crumbs from the
front of his clothes. "Good afternoon," he said in a businesslike
manner.
"Good day, your Excellency," Silk replied with a brief bow.
"And what have we here?" the agent asked, looking appraisingly at the packs.
"I'm Radek of Boktor," Silk replied, "a Drasnian merchant. I'm taking
Sendarian wool to Tol Honeth." He opened the top of one of the packs
and pulled out a corner of woven gray cloth.
"Your prospects are good, worthy merchant," the customs agent said,
fingering the cloth. "It's been a chilly winter this year, and wool's
bringing a good price."
There was a brief clicking sound as several coins changed hands. The
customs agent smiled then, and his manner grew more relaxed. "I don't
think we'll need to open all the packs," he said. "You're obviously an
honorable man, worthy Radek, and I wouldn't want to delay you."