changes, Belgarath. What’s happening now is evil, not natural.’
‘I think you’re exaggerating, brother. We’ve hit bad stretches before. The onset of winter isn’t all that pleasant when you get right down to it, but spring comes back eventually.’
‘I don’t think it will this time. This particular winter’s just going to get worse as the years roll by.’ A mystic will turn anything into a metaphor. Metaphors are useful sometimes, but they can be carried too far.
‘Winter always passes, Belsambar,’ I told him. ‘If we weren’t sure of that, there wouldn’t really be much point to going on with life, would there?’
‘Is there a point to it, Belgarath?’
‘Yes, there is. Curiosity, if nothing else. Don’t you want to see what’s going to happen tomorrow?’
‘Why? It’s just going to be worse.’ He sighed. ‘This has been going on for a long time, Belgarath. The universe broke apart when that star exploded, and now Torak’s broken the world apart. The monsters of Ulgoland have been maddened, but I think mankind’s been maddened too. Once, a long time ago, we Angaraks were like other people. Torak corrupted us when he gave the Grolims sway over us. The Grolims made us proud and cruel. Then Torak himself was corrupted by his unholy lust for our Master’s Orb.’
‘He found out that was a mistake, though.’
‘But it didn’t change him. He still hungers for dominion over the Orb, even though it maimed him. His hunger brought war into the world, and war corrupted all of the rest of us. You saw me when I first came to the Vale. Could you have believed then that I’d be capable of burning people alive?’
‘We had a problem, Belsambar. We were all looking for solutions.’
‘But I was the one who rained fire on the Angaraks. You wouldn’t have; not even Beldin would have; but I did. And when we started burning my kinsmen, Torak went mad. He wouldn’t have broken the world and drowned all those people if I hadn’t driven him to it.’
‘We all did things he didn’t like, Belsambar. You can’t take all the credit.’
‘You’re missing my point, Belgarath. We were all corrupted by events. The world turned cruel, and that made us cruel as well. The world’s no longer fair. It’s no more than a rotten, wormy husk of what it once was. Eternal night is coming, and nothing we can do will hold it back.’
We’d reached the foot of his tower. I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Go to bed, Belsambar,’ I told him. ‘Things won’t look so bad in the morning when the sun comes up.’
He gave me a faint, melancholy smile, ‘If it comes up.’ Then he embraced me. ‘Good bye, Belgarath,’ he said.
‘Don’t you mean goodnight?’
‘Perhaps.’ Then he turned and went into his tower.
It was just after midnight when I was awakened by a thunderous detonation and a great flash of intense light. I leaped from my bed and dashed to the window, and stared in total disbelief at the ruins of Belsambar’s tower. It was no more than a stump now, and a great column of seething fire was spouting upward from it. The noise and that fire were bad enough, but I also felt a great vacancy as if something had been wrenched out of my very soul. I knew what it was. I no longer had the sense of Belsambar’s presence.
I really can’t say how long I stood frozen at that window staring at the horror that had just occurred.
‘Belgarath! Get down here!’ It was Beldin. I could clearly see him standing at the foot of my tower.
‘What happened?’ I shouted down to him.
‘I told you to keep an eye on Belsambar! He just willed himself out of existence! He’s gone, Belgarath! Belsambar’s gone!’
The world seemed to come crashing down around me. Belsambar had been a little strange, but he was still my brother. Ordinary people who live ordinary lives can’t begin to understand just how deeply you can become involved with another person over the course of thousands of years. In a peculiar sort of way, Belsambar’s self-obliteration maimed me. I think I’d have preferred to lose an arm or a leg rather than my mystic Angarak brother, and I know that my other brothers felt much the same. Beldin wept for days, and the twins were absolutely inconsolable.
That sense of vacancy that had come over me when Belsambar ended his life echoed all across the world. Even Belzedar and Belmakor, who were both in Mallorea when it happened, felt it, and they came soaring in a week or so afterward, although I’m not sure what they thought they could do. Belsambar was gone, and there was no way we could bring him back.
We comforted our Master as best we could, although there wasn’t really anything we could do to lessen his suffering and sorrow.
You wouldn’t have thought it to look at him, but Beldin did have a certain sense of delicacy. He waited until he got Belzedar outside the Master’s tower before he started to berate him for his behavior in Mallorea. Belmakor and I happened to be present at the time, and we were both enormously impressed by our distorted brother’s eloquence. ‘Irresponsible’ was perhaps the kindest word he used. It all went downhill from there.
Belzedar mutely accepted his abuse, which wasn’t really at all like him. For some reason, the death of Belsambar seemed to have hit him harder even than it had the rest of us. This is not to say that we all didn’t grieve, but Belzedar’s grief seemed somehow excessive. With uncharacteristic humility, he apologized to Beldin – not that it did any good. Beldin was in full voice, and he wasn’t about to stop just because Belzedar admitted his faults. He eventually started repeating himself, and that was when Belmakor rather smoothly stepped in. ‘What have you been doing in Mallorea, old boy?’ he asked Belzedar.
Belzedar shrugged. ‘What else? I’ve been attempting to recover our Master’s Orb.’
‘Isn’t that just a little dangerous, dear chap? Torak’s still a God, you know, and if he catches you, he’ll have your liver for breakfast.’
‘I think I’ve come up with a way to get around him,’ Belzedar replied.
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Beldin snapped. ‘The Master’s got enough grief already without your adding to it by getting yourself obliterated following some half-baked scheme.’
‘It’s thoroughly baked, Beldin,’ Belzedar replied coolly. ‘I’ve taken plenty of time to work out all the details. The plan will work, and it’s the only way we’ll ever be able to get the Orb back.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t need help, and I definitely don’t need any interference.’ And with that he turned on his heel and walked off toward his tower with Beldin’s curses chasing after him.
‘I wonder what he’s up to,’ Belmakor mused.
‘Something foolish,’ Beldin replied sourly. ‘Belzedar’s not always the most rational of men, and he’s been absolutely obsessed with the Master’s Orb since he first laid eyes on it. Sometimes you’d almost think it was something of his own that Torak stole.’
‘You’ve
