Rather surprisingly, an ancient Grolim arrived at the palace shortly after we returned from Dal Perivor. I was about to send him away, but Eriond insisted rather firmly that he remain. The old fellow had some unpronounceable Grolim name, but Eriond changed it to Pelath for some reason. The old boy has a sweet disposition, but he sometimes speaks very strangely. The language he uses sounds very much like that of the Ashabine Oracles or the Mallorean Gospels of the Dals. Very peculiar.’
‘I’d almost forgotten that,’ Garion interrupted his reading.
‘What’s that, dear?’ Ce’Nedra asked him, looking up from her knitting.
‘Do you remember that old Grolim we met in Peldane? That night when the chicken bit you?’
‘Yes. He seemed like a very nice old man.’
‘He was more than that, Ce’Nedra. He was also a prophet, and the Voice told me that he was going to become Eriond’s first disciple.’
‘Eriond has a very long arm, hasn’t he? Keep reading, Garion.’
‘Cyradis, Pelath and I have conferred extensively with Eriond and we’ve all agreed that His status should remain concealed for the time being at least. He is such an innocent that I don’t want to expose Him to the depths of human depravity and chicanery just yet. Let’s not discourage Him so early in His career. We all remembered Torak and His overpowering hunger for worship, but when we offered to worship Eriond, He just laughed at us. Did Polgara perhaps leave something out when she was raising him?
We did make one exception, however. A group of us, accompanied by the third, seventh, and ninth armies, visited Mal Yaska. The Temple Guardmen and Chandim attempted to flee, but Atesca rather effectively rounded them up. I waited until Eriond was off for His morning ride on that unnamed horse of His and spoke quite firmly with the assembled Grolims. I didn’t want to cause Eriond any distress, but I indicated to the Grolims that I would be most unhappy if they did not change their religious affiliation forthwith. Atesca stood at my side, playing with his sword, so they immediately got my drift. Then, with no warning at all, Eriond appeared in the Temple. (How does that horse of His move so fast? The last time he had been observed that morning, He had been more than three leagues from the city.) He told them that black robes were not really all that attractive and that white ones would become them much more. Then, with no more than a faint smile, He actually changed the color of every Grolim robe in the temple. So much for His anonymity in that part of Mallorea, I’m afraid. Next, He told them that they’d no longer need their knives, and every dagger in the place disappeared. Then He extinguished the fires in the sanctum and decorated the altar with flowers. I have since been advised that these trifling modifications are universal here in Mallorea. Urgit is presently investigating to determine if similar conditions prevail in Cthol Murgos. Our new God, I think, will take a bit of getting used to.
To make it short, the Grolims all fell down on their faces. I still suspect that at least some of those conversions may have been fraudulent, so I’m not contemplating a demobilization of the army just yet. Eriond told them to get back on their feet and go out and care for the sick, the poor, the orphaned, and the homeless.
On our way back to Mal Zeth, Pelath pulled his horse in beside mine, smiled that sickeningly sweet smile of his at me, and said, “My Master believes that it’s time for you to change your status, Emperor of Mallorea.” That gave me a bit of a turn. I was about half afraid that Eriond might suggest that I abdicate and take up sheepherding or something. Then Pelath went on. “My Master believes that you’ve delayed something for quite long enough.”
“Oh?” I said cautiously.
“The delay is causing the Seeress of Kell a certain distress. My Master strongly suggests that you ask her to marry you. He wants that settled before anything comes along to interfere.”
So, when we got to Mal Zeth, I made what I thought was a very sensible proposal and Cyradis turned me down flat! I thought my heart would stop. Then our mystic little Seeress waxed eloquent. She told me – at great length – what she thought of sensible. I’ve never seen her behave that way before. She was actually passionate, and some of the words she used, though archaic, were hardly flattering. I had to look some of them up, they were so obscure.’
‘Good for her,’ Ce’Nedra said fiercely.
‘Just to make peace,’ the letter went on, ‘I fell to my knees and made a fatuous and embarrassingly gushy proposal, and she was moved by my eloquence to relent and accept me.’
‘Men!’ Ce’Nedra snorted.
‘The cost of the wedding very nearly bankrupt me. I even had to borrow money from one of Kheldar’s business associates – at an outrageous rate of interest. Eriond officiated, of course, and having a God perform the ceremony really nailed down the lid on my coffin. At any rate, Cyradis and I were married last month, and I can truly say that I’ve never been happier in my life.’
‘Oh,’ Ce’Nedra said with that familiar catch in her voice, ‘that’s just lovely.’ She went to the handkerchief.
‘There’s more,’ Garion told her.
‘Keep going,’ she said, dabbing at her eyes.
‘The Angarak Malloreans were not really pleased that I had chosen to marry a Dal, but they’re wisely keeping their displeasure to themselves. I’ve changed a great deal, but not that much. Cyradis is having some difficulty adapting to her new status, and I simply cannot convince her that jewels are a necessary adornment for an empress. She wears flowers instead, and the slavish imitation of the ladies of the court has caused universal despair in the hearts of the jewelers here in Mal Zeth.
I was going to have my distant cousin, the Archduke Otrath, shortened by the length of his head, but he’s such a pathetic fool that I discarded the idea and sent him home instead. Following a suggestion your friend Beldin made in Dal Perivor, I ordered the cretin to set his wife up in a palace in the City of Melcene and never to go near her again for the rest of his life. I understand that the lady is something of a scandal in Melcene, but she probably deserves some recompense for putting up with that silly ass for all those years.
That’s about all from here, Garion. We’re really hungry for news of all our friends and we send them our warmest greetings and affection.
Sincerely,
Zakath and Empress Cyradis
Note that I’m deleting that ostentatious prefix. Oh, by the way, my cat was unfaithful to me again a few months ago. Would Ce’Nedra like a kitten? – or maybe one for your new daughter? I can send two, if you’d like.’