The situation in the library was even worse than she had expected. Beldin and Geran were almost screaming at each other, and there wasn't much Garion could do about that. Ainoukh winked at her "father-in-law", as the Alorns called that. She liked him, and she could see why mother accepted his many faults.
"I don't care for your experience, Geran," Beldin said, "there are still facts, and laws of logic! There aren't any turtles or trees in Morindland, and we'll never know what happened to the brains of those dreamers..."
Ainoukh supressed a yawn. There wasn't really very much she didn't know about the old sorcerer after her long talks with Vella, and she understood perfectly well why seers and Gods called him "gentle". Nevertheless, his attitude of always being right could be very annoying.
"Beldin, that's still the same tired old nonsense!" Geran replied. "The Morindim didn't always live in the north! I've met a guy named 'Holata' there, and this word means 'crocodile' in their old language! That's a fact, and if we read about a turtle choosing a tree..."
Ainoukh's eyes widened. "Geran..."
He noticed her only now, and he groaned. "Please, Ainoukh, not you, too! I'm fighting a last stand here against ignorance hiding behind six thousand years..."
"Geran, keep that little girl out of it," Beldin growled.
"But I just wanted to tell you...," Ainoukh tried to get their attention, again.
"That's enough!" Geran actually shouted it. "Ainoukh, didn't you tell me that demons and magic are taboo for a Morind girl?! Well, we're discussing exactly that at the moment."
Ainoukh went pale. "But..."
"No 'but', Ainoukh!"
She stared at him incredulously. "You don't even want to know what I wanted to tell you?"
"Of course, I want--later," Geran said firmly.
The following moment of silence had the exact length of two heartbeats, then, the door of the library closed behind Ainoukh noisily.
"Are you sure this was the right tone, Geran?" Garion asked his son.
"She'll calm down, eventually," Geran muttered. It wasn't entirely clear whom he wanted to convince.
"There are those of us who aren't hen-pecked, Garion," Beldin announced, looking at Geran with some respect. Remembering Vella, Garion couldn't help laughing. It didn't last, however, they were yelling at each other again soon after that.
Ainoukh ran through the Citadel without noticing anybody. Geran had no right to treat her like that! Had he forgotten what he promised her in Morindland, had he forgotten the wedding ceremony? She had a witness! Ainoukh stopped, surprised by her own thought. Calling the witness of her wedding ceremony would be the last thing a Morind woman would do, traditionally; her husband wouldn't survive that. Now, it was different, however. Eriond wasn't a demon, he wouldn't eat Geran, probably... Maybe mother could call him through her amulet. Ainoukh went to the throne room, but it was empty, already. The Orb, however, glowed happily when it perceived her presence, and its glow had the same pink cast as in those nights in the tent with Geran. It was only a stone, and still a friend. Ainoukh resisted the urge to touch it gently, she only told it about Geran's strange and disturbing behavior. As always, she seemed almost to understand the flicker in the depth of the stone. In this case, all she could feel in the Orb was confusion. That was only natural, the Orb was Geran's friend, and couldn't believe he could do something wrong. "Can you call Eriond? Please!" Ainoukh asked the stone. "I don't want to tell mother about the stupid story!" It took quite some time to explain that to the Orb. Finally, it understood. Not being a sorceress, Ainoukh didn't hear anything, but the bright light emanating from the magic jewel made her close her eyes. When she opened them, she looked into Eriond's worried face.
He relaxed immediately when he looked into her mind, he even smiled. What a girl! "Don't do that again, Ainoukh, not ever!" he asked her gently.
"I only wanted to call you, Eriond, you are my witness! Please, tell Geran that he can't behave like that!" the girl said.
"I will, but don't use the Orb like that, again! It's the most powerful thing in the universe, and it doesn't understand its own power completely. Didn't Geran warn you about that?"
"He told me it exaggerates sometimes," Ainoukh admitted. "I'm sorry, I didn't think about that! I didn't even hear it calling you."
Eriond winced. "The King of Hell did, probably. I have no idea why the Orb had to shout like that, I'm not deaf! Well, I wasn't, before."
Ainoukh blushed. "Eriond, forgive me, please! I know you have enough to worry about, it's just..."
The God sighed. He understood her very well, and how could you possibly be wroth with a girl like her? "It's all right, Ainoukh, but ask Ce'Nedra to use her amulet, next time," was all he said. "Excuse me, now, I'll have to explain that to the sorcerers. They'll come to their senses again in a few minutes, I guess."
Ainoukh's eyes were very wide when he left. Come to their senses?! This had grown a bit out of hand, she suspected.
Beldin stared at Eriond. "She did what?"
Geran didn't wait for his answer. "It was my fault, probably, but I didn't want to offend her! Was it really that bad?"
Eriond didn't say anything, he only showed him the scene through her eyes.
"I'll have to apologize," Geran said with a sigh.
"Now, Geran!"
This time, Geran didn't pay much attention to the doors he had to open on his way to Ainoukh's rooms, two of them had to be replaced later. "So much about 'hen-pecked', I'd say," Beldin remarked sourly.
Garion looked at him. "Shouldn't we be a bit more careful with those little remarks? If the Orb really listens to Ainoukh..."
Eriond shrugged. "You and Geran aren't in any real danger, the Orb wouldn't hurt the Rivan heir. Beldin should watch his mouth, though."
He said it with a completely straight face, but Beldin hoped the God was joking.
Polgara and Ce'Nedra arrived at the library almost at the same time. Both were excited, Ce'Nedra still held her amulet in her hand. "What happened, Eriond?" she demanded.
Her eyes widened when Eriond explained it. "Good girl!" she said.
"Really? The Orb of Aldur shouldn't be a plaything for an immature, barbarian princess!" Polgara replied.
"She wasn't playing, Polgara," Eriond disagreed, "and she was right to call me. It got Geran's attention, and nobody was hurt, after all."
"That's true, but she should use another method, next time!" Polgara insisted.
Eriond couldn't help smiling. Admitting a mistake wasn't polgara's strong point. "She understood that herself, before I had a chance to tell her, and there won't be a 'next time'! Geran got her point immediately, and he will blush, as soon as he realizes how stupid he was not to listen to Ainoukh. The both of them are very far from being immature. Now if you excuse me, I'm sort of busy at the moment." With these words, he disappeared.
Garion frowned. "Listen to her? She really tried to tell us something."
"We were talking about trees, and that there aren't any in Morindland," Beldin remembered.
"I'm a tree," Ce'Nedra declared. "The Morindim must have met the Dryads several eons before, and they call us 'The Clan of the Tree', as Ainoukh told me. I like that, it's poetic! Of course, Geran also is a tree, the Morindim take into account only the female line."
Beldin's eyes almost popped out. "Do you know anything of a Turtle Clan, and if Ainoukh belongs to it?!"
"I'm not sure, but I think she mentioned something like that," Ce'Nedra said. "The tattoo on her right shoulder is a turtle."
"Ainoukh is from the Turtle Clan," Polgara said. "She told me when we first met."
"You're right, Aunt Pol!" Garion remembered. "She said you were born when Etchquaw was burned, who's from the same clan..."
"Why, thank you, Garion," Polgara replied with an icy look.
Beldin grinned. "That explains why you remember it, Pol!"
"Could you tell me why this is so important, please?" Ce'Nedra asked.
"Oh, it's only an obscure prophecy, or so we thought: When the turtle chooses the tree, this will be the sign that the time is near. After the next winter, the turtle will be with child, and it will be a son. Then wait for another winter, for my demons don't like to fight in the cold. In the summer, the tree will come with many trees. He will bring unseen and fearsome beasts into your North. Call my demons to fight them. And when many are slain, call me. I will destroy him, and take away the burning stone of power. An insane Morind dreamed that several centuries ago," Beldin replied.
Ce'Nedra laughed out loud. "Obscure?! Beldin, that's plain text! The final battle will be the following summer after the birth of Ainoukh's son. You aren't trying to say that you were arguing all those days about that, are you? Ainoukh was right, your so-called discussions only mean to be fascinated by the sound of your own voices, and by your own logic, as you call it!"
"Mother was right, I can learn a lot from that girl," Polgara admitted with a smile. "Ainoukh is pregnant, by the way. She didn't tell even Geran yet, because she isn't certain."
"Is it a boy?" Beldin asked. "Take a look, Pol! I don't want to wait nine months to be sure we got it right."
"Right now?" Polgara asked in a sarcastic tone. "Be serious, uncle! I won't look into that at all without her permission. The notion that I tell men what exactly is growing in her womb violates about every single taboo of the Morindim. Ainoukh tries very hard to respect our customs, and we could as well return the favor."
"But..."
"No 'but', uncle! Don't over-estimate your importance. I'm fairly sure Eriond knows about it, already. You will wait nine months, if necessary, we have enough time. Yes, the Dryads will lead an army of monsters, they are ready even now, as Poldene told me. The Eldrakyn, Trolls and Minotaurs would go through fire for the Dryads, and the Sha-Darim control the Hrulgin."
"I will have to lead that army," Ce'Nedra reminded her with a sigh. "I will do a better job this time."
Ainoukh appreciated that.
"It's good to have somebody around who understands those matters," she said with a grateful smile. "Sometimes, things go wrong, and you can't give birth without help."
Polgara knew this wouldn't happen. The child was in the right position, and both he and his mother were strong and healthy. She could hear the two heartbeats. There were times when she wished her mother were in her place. Poledra always said that a birth is a natural process, but she wasn't here, she had to take care of Belgarath's rehabilitation.
Polgara didn't have to tell Ainoukh when to breathe and when to press, she didn't even have to tell her that yelling wouldn't help much. The first cry came out of the mouth of the little boy. His skin was much darker than that of an Alorn, and his hair was black. He had blue eyes, however, and a silvery mark on his right palm.
"When do you cut the umbilic cord?" Polgara asked. She had learned that the form of a question avoided several problems.
"Not yet, Polgara."
"Aren't you afraid the afterbirth could be withheld?" Polgara worried.
"We won't wait that long, Polgara! We want to avoid a too big loss of blood. Morindim are nomads, often we have to move immediately after a child-birth."
Only several minutes later, when the tiny mouth sought the breast of his mother, Polgara realized that Ainoukh had omitted the "Lady" for the first time.
"We'll have to go to the throne room, soon," Ainoukh said.
Polgara couldn't believe her ears. "You aren't serious!" she protested. "You only gave birth to a child!".
"And so what? I told you we have to move on after that quite often. Being the wife of the crown prince doesn't only give me rights, I've got duties! The nobles are waiting for the heir. And that's more important than they can know!"
Geran would meet Mordja next year, but the Rivan nobles couldn't know about the ancient Morind prophecy. Polgara knew that.
"Let them wait, Ainoukh! The news of the birth will reach them, and no Alorn expects a mother to walk immediately after delivery. The free ale in the throne room makes them very patient, believe me!"
"Maybe you're right, Polgara," Ainoukh admitted. It was her first child-birth, the following ones would be easier. "Could you call Geran with your mind, please? It will be faster than a messenger."
Polgara suspected that Geran had cheated, he appeared almost immediately after her call. And he looked at his son with the same stupid expression as every father in the universe.
"Welcome to this world, Daran," he said.
Polgara caught the reference to the name of her sister at once, and the color of her eyes changed to the deepest lavender.
"Why, thank you, Geran!"
He stared at her. "Oh, didn't you know that? In Morindland, the brother of the mother chooses the name of a child, usually. Ainoukh doesn't have a brother, it was her idea to call our son Daran."
Polgara looked at Ainoukh, and the girl felt the need for an explanation.
"I thought we should keep the name of your sister in the family, now that my sister Beldaran left our house," she said. "And I thought you might like the idea."
Polgara couldn't speak, she only kissed Ainoukh.
"They'll introduce the child to the Orb, and that will be the ultimate test if he's really the heir," he muttered.
The two men beside him had their hands at their sword hilts immediately.
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
Dirlan sobered up in an instant.
"Er... hey, it's a known fact that their marriage in the temple of Belar was less than nine months ago! I'm not implying anything, I only said we'll know for sure very soon..."
His neighbor stared at him. "You have doubts? Are you trying to say that the child born today is a bastard?!"
The doors of the throne room swung open, and that saved Dirlan's life, probably. The Rivan nobles couldn't believe their eyes when they saw their queen to be carrying her son. Naturally, Geran accompanied her, together with the royal couple, Brand and Polgara.
Geran took the big sword off the wall. When he turned to his family, he smiled. Father looked like always, a big, muscular man with slight shades of grey in his hair. Mother... well, she was a Dryad, and she looked young. In fact, she was young, Ce'Vanne was born only two years ago. Geran thought that she probably was the most beautiful grandma in the history of Riva, and he wondered how she would react if he told her that. Right now, he had another task. He held the huge weapon by the blade and extended the hilt with the blue glowing stone toward the baby in the arms of his wife. Whatever Ancient Belgarath had written once, it was clear that Daran didn't just react to a shining object. Geran felt how the awareness of the stone touched the mind of his son, and found a new friend. The mark on the palm of the baby laid firmly on the stone, and the Orb burst out in a symphony of light.
"Hail Daran, heir to the Rivan throne and new Guardian of the Orb," Polgara announced. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was heard on the whole Isle of the Winds.
More than hundred swords were drawn, and more than hundred more or less articulated voices roared "Hail Daran!".
Dirlan held his sword a bit higher than the others, and his vow of faith was a bit louder, possibly. The men around him noticed it with grim satisfaction. They wouldn't have resheathed their swords otherwise.