Interestingly enough, Ainoukh's symptoms vanished completely when the ship approached Riva. By some strange coincidence, the weather cleared up. The wind remained, naturally, but the harbour was bathed in sunshine. Ainoukh had changed her clothes, she wore the bright red dress Porenn gave her. At first, Geran wasn't sure this would be a good idea. When he thought about it, he changed his mind, however. There was no way of hiding from the Rivans that Ainoukh was very exotic, and they could as well hit them over the head with it. Red was the color of love and happiness for the Morindim, after all.
Ainoukh stood at the prow of the ship. She could already see the crowd waiting to meet them, but her sharp eyes sought out only one, a tiny person beside a tall man in the purple mantle of a king. Ce'Nedra didn't wear purple, of course, her dress of green brocade agreed with her flaming red hair.
Geran could hear Ainoukh's sigh of relief when he led her on solid ground, finally. Then, he turned to his parents.
"Father, Mother, this is Princess Ainoukh, daughter of Edensaw, the Chief of the War-Chiefs of the Morindim following Eriond. According to their laws, we are married, already. In proper respect of Alorn customs, a second wedding in the temple of Belar will be held, however, to make clear that she's my legitimate wife and queen to be of this island."
Geran heard an approving murmur, but not all frowns disappeared, and he hadn't expected they would.
Ainoukh made a step forward and bowed slightly. "King Belgaraion, my father asked me to convey to you the greetings of your northern allies," she said in her clear voice. Garion acknowledged that with a nod. What followed now, came as an absolute surprise even for Geran. Ainoukh bowed deeply before his mother. "Queen Ce'Nedra, your son agreed to be my husband. Following the customs of my people, I have to call you Mother now, live in your house, and obey you absolutely, and gladly I will do that!"
Geran had noticed that Ainoukh was more interested in his mother than in the Overlord of the West, but only now he understood what it meant. He was positive that a pledge of obedience wasn't the worst move to get on mother's good side.
Ce'Nedra's eyes widened in surprise, then, she made a few quick steps and embraced the girl. "It was prophecied that I'd have many daughters, but it's a novel and pleasant experience to get one so easily," she said with a warm smile. "Welcome to Riva, Ainoukh!"
Garion could see that his daughters couldn't wait to greet their long-lost brother. He decided to end the official part, before the protocol went out of the window completely. "The royal family will withdraw now," he declared. "The day of the wedding ceremony will be announced soon, after consulting the priests of Belar."
Ainoukh watched with a smile how her new sisters and her mother hugged and kissed Geran. He didn't leave out even the little Ce'Vanne in the arms of her nanny. Chatting and giggling, the small group began to move toward the stairs leading up from the harbour. Garion led the way, talking to a serious, bully Rivan. Ainoukh felt a bit lost, but suddenly, a tiny hand took hers. The green eyes of a little girl looked up to her, she could be about seven years old. Ainoukh's thought went through the list of Geran's sisters.
"I'm Xildera," the girl confirmed her guess.
"Don't you want to speak with Geran?" Ainoukh asked curiously.
Xildera smiled. "All in good time. When the others are done with it, I'll have him for me all alone."
Ainoukh worried a bit. "Uh, Xildera, he's my husband now, you know."
"I know," Xildera giggled. "They'll send me to bed all too early, and then, it's your turn."
Ainoukh liked that girl, a Morind girl of her age could have said the same. She didn't like the stairs, though. The Morindim were used to their plain, they didn't like even hills very much. "Will that ever end?" she asked Xildera.
"You'll have to get used to it, Ainoukh. See that gate?"
Of course, she saw it, it was only two flights ahead. Ainoukh began to hope.
"It's exactly half way up to the Citadel, I counted the steps," Xildera continued merrily.
Ainoukh groaned.
Wolf joined them. "Little sister, one would warn you that not all the man-things here feel friendly about you."
"One noticed that, revered leader," Ainoukh answered respectfully in Wolfish.
Garion looked at her in surprise. Then, he remembered in which form she made the long way from Morindland through Drasnia and Sendaria. He smiled at her--he liked his daughter-in-law, and he was glad that she made friends with one of his daughters, already.
When they reached the throne room, Garion had finished his conversation, finally. "I'm sorry, Ainoukh, I had to speak to Kail, he's the Rivan Warder, and most Rivans call him Brand. He's the head of our government, I wouldn't know what to do without him. You said Ce'Nedra is your mother now, does that make me sort of your father?"
Ainoukh laughed her silvery laugh. "Maybe, but that doesn't mean very much for us. We define kinship only from the side of our mothers, and my father is just a good old friend for me."
"I'd be glad to be a good old friend," Garion said simply.
"I'd accept the offer, if I were you," Ce'Nedra recommended with a wink. "He's a bit slow and stubborn, sometimes, but he can be very nice."
"He's a man, all right," Ainoukh agreed. Her brown eyes looked at Garion curiously. "I see our customs are a bit different. Morind girls love to talk about men, but preferably when they aren't around. That gives us more freedom to speak, there are lots of taboos, otherwise."
"Why, I don't think our customs are so different!" Ce'Nedra replied, looking at Ainoukh with fondness. "Now that I think about it, I feel an urgent need to speak with my new daughter in private."
Garion watched how they withdrew. "Aren't you a bit afraid?" he asked his son.
"Why would I, father?" Geran seemed to be genuinely surprised.
"Er... you know that your mother is a bit blunt about certain things, sometimes. Maybe Ainoukh will be shocked."
Geran started laughing. "Sorry, father," he apologized when he saw his expression, "you don't know her. Morind women are very open when they speak to each other. It's a cultural thing, I guess. As they told me, mortality is extreme, especially among little children, and fertility is very important for their survival as a race. Fortunately, I wasn't raised as a prudish Sendar, but some things Ainoukh told me made me blush. I have no idea what she can tell mother, but I'm afraid she will be a trifle surprised."
Garion began to worry.
As it turned out, Geran's warning was a gross understatement. When the two women returned, Ce'Nedra giggled uncontrollably, and her cheeks were reddened. Ce'Nedra, blushing?! Garion's worries doubled. Then, he caught a glance she shot at him, and he saw the well-known glint in her eyes. Usually, it meant that she had things on her mind, plans for a night that started rather early in the afternoon, sometimes.
His worries doubled, again.
With a smile, she watched the warm family reunion. Her tiny Dryad sisters seemed to be fond of ancient Belgarath and his daughter. When Ainoukh's eyes met Poledra's, she gasped. She remembered the words of the ancient legend.
When her golden eyes will cease to watch our world, it will stop spinning around, the stars and the moon and the sun will fall down, and the world will burn in fire.
"One is awed to be in the presence of the Mother of the Wolves," Ainoukh said silently in Wolfish.
"One is content to meet such a perceptive whelp," Poledra replied. "But one would advise you not to share your knowledge with man-things unaware of the wisdom of your Mothers."
Ainoukh bowed her head, she would obey. The others hadn't understood the short exchange, but they had noticed it. Especially Belgarath and Polgara looked at Ainoukh with a very strange expression on their faces. The girl felt a bit awkward.
"I'm sorry, I've never met the experience of so many winters!" she apologized. "According to the customs of my people, I should call you 'Ancient Mother', but I'm not sure it will be proper here," Ainoukh said to Polgara.
Durnik laughed. "I'm afraid it isn't, we aren't used to the Morindim notions of politeness," he said.
Ainoukh liked his honest, open face. She knew that he was much over sixty already, but he didn't look like that. In fact, his muscular build and the light touch of grey to his hair made him rather interesting, and Ainoukh had no doubt that the famous sorceress was proud of her husband.
"I guess 'Lady Polgara' will be the right, respectful address," Ainoukh decided.
Polgara couldn't help smiling. It was a bit formal, but it would do at first. Despite the grin of her father, she was certain that the Morind girl wasn't trying to make fun of her. She was young, and she would learn about the rules of civilization soon enough.
Geran asked the next question a bit too hasty. "Aunt Pol, I hope Poldene and Poldana will attend our wedding!" He understood his mistake too late.
Polgara's expression didn't change, but her eyes and her voice gave away her deep sadness. "I think so, but how would I know? Our daughters don't live in our house any more."
Ainoukh knew what she felt. "That's the problem with daughters," she said. "They choose husbands, leave the house and find new mothers. My mother died a few years ago, but I'm sure she would be glad that I have a wonderful new mother." She looked at Ce'Nedra, her eyes full of love. "I've never met Queen Adara, but what I hear from Geran makes me think she is a good mother for Poldana."
Polgara's eyes changed to the deepest lavender, she hugged Ainoukh. "Congratulations, Geran, you chose the right girl!"
Ainoukh laughed. "Oh no, An... Lady Polgara, I chose him, as it is the custom in Morindland. That's the good thing about boys, they bring a new daughter in the house." She looked at the strong blacksmith. "Who knows, maybe it's not too late yet!"
Garion's gasp and Belgarath's chuckle seemed to indicate that she said something wrong. Ainoukh had no idea what it was. Durnik was not too old to be a father, and the beautiful sorceress with her feminine figure certainly looked as if she were able to bear another child. Ce'Nedra's impish smile comforted her, it couldn't have been too bad.
"Are you sure this is the right place to discuss questions like this one?" Polgara asked calmly.
Ainoukh understood, or so she thought. "You're right, Lady Polgara, we should better talk about it in private. We can speak more openly without the many taboos which the presence of men imposes on us."
Poledra's laughter ended the silence after that statement. "Polgara, don't underestimate this girl! She is only a whelp, but she learned from the Ancient Mothers of the Morindim, and the wisdom of the Path of the Moon is older than Kell. You can learn a lot from Ainoukh here if you care to do so."
"I will, mother," Polgara replied instantly.
Ainoukh was pleasantly surprised. The regal-looking woman obeyed her mother! Maybe the Alorns weren't such barbarians, after all.
Suddenly, there was some noise at the door. For a moment, a servant appeared, but he was brushed aside immediately when Beldin stomped into the room, followed by his beautiful wife.
"I can introduce myself, and they know who I am, anyway," he growled. Then, he turned to Ce'Nedra. "Your little majesty, I see you aren't pregnant. Garion's getting old, finally. It happens to all of us."
Unlike Garion, Ce'Nedra didn't waste her time blushing, she knew the grumpy old sorcerer. Instead, she exchanged a look with Vella, who only rolled her eyes upward.
"Don't take the old troll too seriously," she said, and embraced the tiny queen.
"You haven't changed, uncle," Polgara noted while Beldin exchanged a hearty handshake with Durnik.
"You didn't really expect me to change, did you?" Beldin replied with a grin.
Ainoukh giggled. Geran had told her a lot about the ugly dwarf, and she wasn't disappointed. Polgara was wrong, Beldin had changed. He still wore rags, but they were clean, and he didn't smell bad. She looked at Vella, who had converted Beldin to regular bathing, as it seemed. The Nadrak dancer seemed to be not less curious than Ainoukh, the both women liked each other from the first glance.
Beldin looked at Ainoukh, too. "You don't seem to share the preferences of your father, Geran," he said approvingly, "she isn't nearly as scrawny as your mother. I hope you did what you're supposed to."
"He did, gentle Beldin," Ainoukh replied with an innocent smile. "We traveled to Riva in the form of wolves, but we changed back to human form every evening."
Beldin looked at her with a wicked grin. "What for?" he asked bluntly.
"It was their honeymoon, uncle," Polgara reminded him with a raised brow.
"And so what? Wolves do it, too," Beldin replied with a shrug.
"That will do, uncle!" Polgara said firmly.
"Why, Beldin, we tried that, naturally," Ainoukh assured him with the same innocent smile, "but I was disappointed, honestly speaking. Would you believe that wolves only know of one single way to do it?!"
Durnik's eyes almost popped out, he didn't get used to her direct and open way of speaking yet. Geran didn't show any outward signs of surprise, but he didn't feel entirely comfortable. It was a very private matter, after all.
Beldin chuckled after a short moment of utter astonishment. "Congratulations, brother mine!" he said.
Polgara looked at Ainoukh with mild rebuke. "That's a strange reason for it, child! I thought you'd say that wolves see it as something natural and not worth mentioning, while we put a lot more feelings into it."
"But that's not really different, Lady Polgara!" Ainoukh objected respectfully. "For animals, it's something they do, while humans decided that they can as well enjoy it. They made it... how can I say that without the words I'm not supposed to use in the presence of men... a cultural thing?" She looked at Geran inquiringly.
Geran nodded. It was the word he would use for that, indeed.
"I mean, both animals and humans have to eat," Ainoukh continued. "But if we ate only to satiate our hunger, we wouldn't need all those spices and elaborate recipes.
"That's something entirely different!" Polgara protested.
"Uh, Aunt Pol, isn't it always?" Geran asked. "That would be the ultimate argument against any comparison. I think she has a point here, there are parallels."
Ainoukh's grateful look at him promised a very interesting evening. "That's what I meant, there's something common. Don't you think that cooking, especially good cooking, has to do with love?"
Polgara stared at her. What could she possibly say against that?! A smile appeared on her face. "Why, Ainoukh, I think you may be right."
Finally, Ainoukh had finished her new dress, and looked at it critically.
"What do you think, will Geran like it?" she asked.
"At least, he'll notice it," Vella said with a smile. "I've never seen silk of that color, like a lemon. How did you find it?"
Ainoukh laughed. "I didn't find it. I asked Belgarath to change its color for me. I promised him a kiss for that, but when he changed it, he didn't want the kiss. He said it wouldn't be a good idea probably. Maybe he's right, who knows how Poledra or Geran would look at that."
Vella was fairly sure that Poledra or Geran weren't the problem here. "Shouldn't we show our men the result of our efforts?"
"Of course, we will," Ainoukh replied. She took off her old dress already, and put on the new one. When she looked into the mirror, she realized that it would be very difficult not to notice a change, indeed.
"Where will they be?" Vella asked.
"Where else? In the library, I guess, busy with what they call discussion," Ainoukh answered with a shrug. Vella tended to agree on that, and so they went to the library, and were right, of course.
Geran looked at the door, when it opened, and gasped. "You do like bright colors," he said, "But it's not a bad idea, it's a nice contrast to your skin." His look clearly indicated that he really liked it.
Beldin made a wry face. "If you ask me, it hurts my eyes," he declared. "And it doesn't make a difference, how it looks. If it keeps away the weather for a while, it's all right."
Vella turned her eyes upward and decided to change the topic. "What did you do while we were busy with something useful?" she asked pointedly.
"We were discussing questions of logic, you girls wouldn't understand this, anyway," Beldin declared.
Vella's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Logic? What does that mean?" Ainoukh asked with an innocent look.
Beldin sighed somewhat exaggerated. "How should I explain this to you? It means to prove something with the laws of thought," he said pompously.
Vella laughed out loud. "He means to prove something with words," she announced.
Now Ainoukh laughed her silvery laugh. "Only men can come up with an idea like this, it gives them an opportunity to speak all day instead of doing something useful. Beldin, that can't work, you can't prove anything with words alone. Words can mean anything, you can't even be sure that somebody else thinks the same when he uses the same word."
"Words are the core of the thought," Beldin growled. He looked at Geran, he knew that the young man didn't share this opinion, and he remembered that he never was able to convince him. "That's why we carefully define the notions we are using in our discussions , it's a very important part of logic," he added carefully.
"He tries to explain the meaning of words with other words," Vella commented acidly. "What happens when a snakes bites in her own tail?"
"That depends on how venomous she is," Ainoukh giggled.
"You're a stupid girl," Beldin raged, "there are words nobody argues about their meaning, and you can use them to explain the meaning of other words!"
His choice of words was very poor, of course. Geran was absolutely positive that Ainoukh was everything but stupid. "Ah, Beldin, you might be wrong here. That nobody argues about the meaning of certain words means only that they don't suspect anybody could use them in another sense. Ainoukh is right, you can't always define words clear enough to use them as a proof."
Vella smiled at him, she didn't like Beldin's attitude of being right always. "Maybe you could even prove with your logic that logic is nonsense at all," she said with a wink.
Geran couldn't help laughing. "Oh yes, that's not even very difficult, Vella."
Ainoukh's eyes were full of mischief. "Would you please, Geran, if it's that easy? I offer a reward, a kiss." Now she winked.
Geran knew what she meant, things had a way of getting out of hand during her kisses. He liked the notion. And it wasn't difficult, indeed. "Let's see... You know what a heap of sand is, Beldin, don't you?"
"Are you trying to be funny?! Every child knows what a heap of sand is!" Beldin fumed.
"I'm not asking a child, I ask you," Geran replied blandly. "Now define it, just how many grains must it contain at least to be called a heap?"
"You aren't sane, nobody can tell that!" Beldin answered irritably.
"Why not?" Geran set the trap with an innocent smile.
"Because a heap remains a heap even if you add or remove a few grains, you clot!"
Geran grinned, Beldin was trapped, he only had to make him understand this. It wouldn't be hard, Beldin was intelligent enough to see that.
"So you are saying there have to be infinitely many grains to make it a heap?" he asked.
Beldin stared at him. "That's complete nonsense, I'd never say something like that! An infinite number would fill the whole universe!"
Geran's grin became brighter. "But there are only those two possibilities, Beldin! The number is infinite or finite. In the latter case, if you remove grains, one at a time, it will vanish finally, and this means it won't be a heap some time before. One of the two, it will fill the whole universe, or there will be a heap which isn't a heap after removing a single grain. That's all what logic leaves us with, and both alternatives are absurd."
Beldin opened his mouth for an objection, but he couldn't think of one.
Ainoukh looked at her husband admiringly. Obviously, he had won this duel. At least, the two alternatives really were absurd both, and if this was logic, it wasn't worth the trouble. She couldn't understand why this was important, though. "I promised a kiss," she said, "but I believe we should go someplace else for that." She took his hand and gently pulled him toward the door.
Vella watched with a smile how they left the library. Then she looked at Beldin, again. He might be one of the most intelligent people in this world, but he certainly didn't look like that at the moment. His mouth was still open, and his eyes were focused on something very far away only he could see. She almost felt pity for him, but on the other hand, she'd never seen before that he couldn't think of an answer, and it wasn't very likely that she'd see that very often. So she enjoyed the look as long as she could.
It took about half an hour before Beldin came to his senses again. When he realized that his opponent had left already, he burst out into a whole avalange of choice curses. Most of them were variations on the theme "traitor".
Not even a bone-headed bear-cultist would dare stay at home after reading that. Garion had his doubts that it was possible to make them see reason, though; Eriond still seemed to be a bit naive, sometimes. Most of the opponents of this alliance declared that there really were more than enough appropriately built Alorn girls around, why had an Alorn sovereign to look for such an exotic bird? This wasn't always meant as patriotic as it sounded, most of them had in mind their daughters or nieces. There were quite a few who fought the idea on religious grounds, though.
There weren't only Rivan guests, of course. Beside Garion's old friends, all royal houses of the world were represented, though not always by their kings, for various reasons. Prince Kallath and Princess Beldaran had made the long way from Mallorea, Zakath could not dare leave Karanda in the present dangerous situation. King Oldorin of Perivor had sent his son, he was accompanied by his friend, Mandorin. Mayaserana was here alone, her husband was sickly. Queen Layla had surprised the world by coming together with King Fulrach, her love for that strange girl who had stayed at their court only for two days was greater than her fear of the sea. King Kheva was accompanied by his wife and his mother. Ainoukh had stolen Porenn's heart, also. Varana's son was here with his Dryad wife, and Xerena was glad to meet her mother, Queen Xera, in Riva. Hettar and Adara had brought Garth and Poldana. The young Gorim came with Relg and Taiba, Sadi came in stead of his queen. Urgit and Prala sat surrounded by the royal family of Drasnia. The senile and very sick Drosta had sent his regent, if "sent" was the right word here. She decided everything for him, anyway, and this time, she decided to establish diplomatic contacts. The other kings laughed more at Drosta than at the beautiful and strong-willed Nadrak dancer, they hadn't expected anything else than a scandal from Drosta. Considering her daggers, nobody made so much as a clever remark in her presence. Very soon, Drosta would die without an heir, and Gar og Nadrak would have a queen, for the first time in its history. The Nadraks seemed to like the idea, probably because Gar og Nadrak never had prospered as well as during the few years of her regentship.
A sigh went through the audience when Ainoukh and Geran were led into the temple from opposite sides. Geran knew that it didn't mean him. Following the slightly ridiculous, ancient custom, he had to pretend that he saw his bride for the first time, but at the moment, he almost believed it himself.
It was beyond Ainoukh's understanding why the Alorns associated a wedding with the color of cold snow, but her Morind education as well as her time in the form of a wolf had taught her that customs were to be followed, not understood. And the mirror had taught her that the white gown agreed very well with her dark skin and her dark hair, which were only obscured, but not hidden by her veil. A few blood-red ribbons in her hair were the only hint at Morind notions. It wasn't plaited into braids today, Ainoukh wasn't an Alorn, and didn't want to imitate them. She didn't know that quite a few in the temple admitted grudgingly that their niece could not contend with this bride, but she understood after a short moment of confusion that the strange noise came from grating teeth.
It wasn't exactly proper, but Geran couldn't help whispering in despair, "I already told you that you're the most wonderful girl in the world, what can I tell you now?! There aren't enough words..." He stopped when he saw the raised brow of the best man.
Despite his frown, Ainoukh whispered back, "Don't tell me, then, show me--later."
Geran was stunned by this brilliant thought.
The Rivan Deacon started his service with an invocation to Belar, naturally, and Geran suppressed a yawn, thinking of the long-winded sermon which would follow inevitably. He was wrong. The deacon almost fainted when the God Himself stepped out of midair in front of him. Belar's presence filled the vast temple, and his boyish smile touched the hearts of everybody, especially those of the ladies. Geran had read in Belgarath's book about the eloquence of the young God, and now, he realized that this wasn't one of the embellishments introduced by the old storyteller. Belar spoke about His love to His Alorns, and His grief that He had to move on. Of course, this would happen soon only according to the notions of immortal Gods, only sorcerers would live to see the day. A sigh of relief followed this statement, and all young Alorn ladies, and quite a few of the not so young, were sure that Belar looked at them when He spoke of love. They were right, of course.
Belar continued to explain that the elder Gods were going to win back another world, dominated by the Demon Lord Athal now, through the folly of demon worship. It was of utmost importance that the Morindim would follow Eriond now, and Belar promised that He would be 'sorely wroth' with any Alorns who dared offend their cousins, the children of His beloved little brother. Quite a few faces went pale at these words. Despite his smile, there was no doubt that Belar meant wrath.
At that moment, Garion began to have second thoughts about who was naive. Eriond clearly had ways to get what He wanted.
Finally, Belar came to the usual questions whether the bride and her groom were willing to be good and truthful spouses, and both answered with a clear and jubilant "yes". There was no established protocol, since wedding ceremonies performed by a God were too rare. After the two of them had exchanged the rings, and Geran had unveiled the face of his wife and kissed her, Belar simply hugged Geran, and kissed the Hie-Tar symbol on Ainoukh's forehead. This time, she was certain that it was deliberate, she could feel the power of Belar's blessing. The God looked at her, and quite obviously He liked what He saw."Maybe I should have told my priests to undertake what Zedar tried later--to convert the Morindim," Belar said silently, with a slightly regretful smile. Ainoukh couldn't help giggling, Geran had told her about certain rumors. Following a sudden impulse, she whispered a few words into the ear of the young God. Belar's smile grew brighter.
Then, He turned to the Rivans, again. He spoke about drinking. Of course, a real Alorn could use a good, hearty drink already after breakfast. Having done the first business in the morning called for another one, and nobody would eat supper without washing it down with a good keg of ale. His listing continued, and many of the Alorn men began to grieve about so many lost opportunities, while their wives wondered that their husbands didn't really drink that much.
Belar went on explaining that most Alorn women didn't approve of excessive drinking, and their husbands restrained their natural desire out of love to them. The listening Alorn ladies hadn't suspected that their husbands loved them so much, and neither had the husbands.
Now, Belar pointed out that there is one occasion when an Alorn certainly would not drink with his friends, but stay with his bride--during his wedding. It wasn't really a very sophisticated thought, but Belar was fully aware of the fact that he was speaking to Alorns. He made sure to consider every aspect of it.
First, he said that the friends of the bridegroom wouldn't miss much, because his thoughts would be with his bride, anyway, and all the world knew that an infatuated man wasn't really much in the way of company. Many Alorns nodded grinning, they had made such observations, already.
Second, his friends would gladly do him the favor to drink his share. Now, all men nodded, it was the thing to do for a true friend.
And third, it wasn't really much of a sacrifice for the groom. You don't marry that often in your life, after all. The last point convinced even the bachelors.
When Belar told them eventually that this was exactly the custom of the Morindim, and that He would be glad if they adopted it, to show their obedience to their God, and their love to their queen to be, He met only agreement. He said that the young couples in Morindland stay in the wedding tent during all the feast, and this is not three days as usual for the Alorns, but seven days. He wouldn't ask for the favor of feasting that long even in this special case, however. Probably, most of the Alorns had urgent business planned after three days of celebrations. Though they tried very hard, none of the present Alorn men could remember any pressing business within the next week or two. Their wives could, but it wasn't a big sacrifice, since their young God asked a favor.
Belar mused that possibly even a palace would have trouble feeding so many guests for a week. Although it certainly was not intended, these words caused a small diplomatic incident. The elderly King Fulrach hurried to offer assistance. In three days, ships could bring supplies from Sendaria to Riva, if they just could get a message there in short time, carried by a bird, maybe... Ce'Nedra's tone had a slight edge to it when she thanked him for his consideration. "But certainly, my dear Fulrach, you don't think we can't take care of that ourselves? I trust we can, Kail, can't we?" she asked Brand. The Rivan Warder looked more than just a little bit hurt when he replied that he doesn't know of any problem with that. Fulrach was perspiring heavily already, and his hasty explanation that he didn't mean at all to doubt the wealth of Riva had a fatal resemblence of an apology.
When the God was gone after a few more warm words of thank for the devotion of the Alorns, Ce'Nedra noticed Ainoukh's triumphant smile. Suddenly, she remembered her teasing Geran with a second wedding night, and she realized that this innocent-looking girl just had talked a God into changing the custom of a whole nation to have a second wedding week. Truly, Ainoukh was worth being called her daughter.
The exotic girl in the bright red dress looked up from her book.
"Ah, Ainoukh, can you tell us where we can find Geran?" Polgara asked her.
"I'm sorry, Lady Polgara, I've seen him hours ago. I don't know where he's now," she said politely.
"Be a nice girl, Ainoukh, go find your husband and tell him I have to speak with him!" Polgara said.
"I'm afraid I can't do that at the moment, Lady Polgara! Mother told me to study this book here," Ainoukh objected.
Polgara looked at her with mild rebuke. "Well, Ce'Nedra isn't exactly your mother, but it's nice that you obey her. That book will wait, now see if you can find Geran!"
"According to the customs of my people, the mother of my husband is my mother now!" the Morindim girl said firmly. "She told me to read this book now, and I will obey her, indeed."
Polgara looked at her irritably. "Why don't you just assume that your 'mother' ordered you to find Geran?" she asked crisply.
Ainoukh didn't know what to answer, she'd never understand that strange woman. She wasn't even a relative, or at least the relationship with Geran was very distant and only from the fatherly side, though this seemed to mean more with those Alorn people. "Why would mother do that?" she asked in genuine surprise. "She always can call him through her amulet, and Geran told me that you sorcerers don't even need an amulet to contact each other."
Belgarath tried very hard to hide a grin, but he wasn't very good at it. Polgara gave him a cold look. Then, she turned her attention to Ainoukh again. "Do you want to advise me what to do, girl?" she asked in a dangerous voice.
This was getting stupid, but Ainoukh supressed a sharp reply. She knew that Polgara was much older than the Ancient Mothers of the Morindim, and she certainly deserved respect. "I'm sorry, Ancient Woman, I didn't want to tell you what to do, I'm sure you can find my husband in any way you'll find convenient. But if you excuse me now, I'd like to continue studying this book, as mother asked me to do. I've learned how to read only recently, and interruptions don't make it easier to follow this text," Ainoukh apologized. Then, she concentrated on her reading again.
Polgara looked incredulously first at Ainoukh, then at her father, who was almost bursting from supressed mirth. She slammed the door when she left the library without another word.
Ainoukh started at the loud noise. "Why does she do that?! She knows I'm reading!" she protested. "I don't want to offend you, Ancient Belgarath, but your daughter is very strange sometimes!"
Belgarath looked at her with undisguised delight. "You noticed. But aren't you afraid of her? She doesn't like it when people don't do what she's asking for."
Ainoukh shrugged. "What can she do to me in the house of my mother and my husband?!"
Belgarath gave in. Ainoukh wouldn't understand why most people were afraid of Polgara. How can you explain that to a Morindim girl who knows death by her first name, who isn't even afraid of a white bear? Two Gods, Eriond and Belar, had blessed her during the wedding ceremonies in Morindland and Riva. "What are you reading here?" he asked curiously.
Ainoukh sighed. She showed him the heavy volume of at least twenty pounds. "They call that 'A Short History of the Tolnedran Dynasties', and you can go nuts with all the strange names in here! If this is the short history, I'd really like to see how they imagine a long one!"
"No, you wouldn't," Belgarath assured her with a wince, "I've seen that room in the library in Tol Honeth." As it turned out, Polgara wasn't the only strange woman in the world. "I'm sorry, Ainoukh, I think I have to speak with your mother - urgently." Then, he also left the library.