It was still working when I was there, I told him. There wasnt a single child in the entire camp. I wondered why they made such a fuss over me. I guess they hadnt seen a child in a long, long time. I couldnt get any details from them, because I couldnt understand their language.
They spoke the old tongue, he told me sadly, even as do my people here in Prolgu.
How is it that you speak my language then? I asked him.
It is my place as leader to speak for my people when we encounter other races, he explained.
Ah, I said. That stands to reason, I guess.
My Master and I returned to the Vale not long after that, and I took up other studies. Time seemed meaningless in the Vale, and I devoted years of study to the most commonplace of things. I examined trees and birds, fish and beasts, insects and vermin. I spent forty-five years on the study of grass alone. In time it occurred to me that I wasnt aging as other men did. Id seen enough old people to know that aging is a part of being human, but for some reason I seemed to be breaking the rules.
Master, I said one night high in the tower as we both labored with our studies, why is it that I do not grow old?
Wouldst thou grow old, my son? he asked me. I have never seen much advantage in it, myself.
I dont really miss it all that much, Master, I admitted, but isnt it customary?
Perhaps, he said, but not mandatory. Thou hast much yet to learn, and one or ten or even a hundred lifetimes would not be enough. How old art thou, my son?
I think I am somewhat beyond three hundred years, Master.
A suitable age, my son, and thou hast persevered in thy studies. Should I forget myself and call thee boy again, pray correct me. It is not seemly that the disciple of a God should be called boy.
I shall remember that, Master, I assured him, almost overcome with joy that he had finally called me his disciple.
I was certain that I could depend on thee, he said with a faint smile. And what is the object of thy present study, my son?
I would seek to learn why the stars fall, Master.
A proper study, my son.
And thou, Master, I asked, what is thy study if I be not overbold to ask.
Even as before, Belgarath, he replied, holding up that fatal round stone. It hath been placed in my care by UL himself, and it is therefore upon me to commune with it that I may know it and its purpose.
Can a stone have a purpose, Master other than to be a stone? The piece of rock, now worn smooth, even polished, by my Masters patient hand made me apprehensive for some reason. In one of those rare presentiments that I dont have very often, I sensed that a great deal of mischief would come about as a result of it.
This particular jewel hath a great purpose, Belgarath, for through it the world and all who dwell herein shall be changed. If I can but perceive that purpose, I might make some preparations. That necessity lieth heavily upon my spirit. And then he lapsed once more into silence, idly turning the stone over and over in his hand as he gazed deep into its polished surface with troubled eyes.
I certainly wasnt going to intrude upon his contemplation of the thing, so I turned back to my study of the inconstant stars.
Chapter 3
In time, others came to us, some seemingly by accident, as I had come, and some by intent, seeking out my Master that they might learn from him. Such a one was Zedar.
I came upon him near our tower one golden day in autumn after Id served my Master for five hundred years or so. This stranger had built a rude altar and was burning the carcass of a goat on it. That got us off on the wrong foot right at the outset. Even the wolves knew enough not to kill things in the Vale. The greasy smoke from his offering was fouling the air, and he was prostrated before his altar, chanting some outlandish prayer.
What are you doing? I demanded quite abruptly, Ill admit, since his noise and the stink of his sacrifice distracted my mind from a problem Id been considering for the past half-century.
Oh, puissant and all-knowing God, he said, groveling in the dirt, I have come a thousand leagues to behold thy glory and to worship thee.
Puissant? Quit trying to show off your education, man. Now get up and stop this caterwauling. Im no more a God than you are.
Art thou not the great God Aldur?
Im his disciple, Belgarath. What is all this nonsense? I pointed at his altar and his smoking goat.
It is to please the God, he replied, rising and dusting off his clothes. I couldnt be sure, but he looked rather like a Tolnedran or possibly an Arend. In either case, his babble about a thousand leagues was clearly a self-serving exaggeration. He gave me a servile, fawning sort of look. Tell me truly, he pleaded, dost thou think he will find this poor offering of mine acceptable?
I laughed. I cant think of a single thing you could have done that would offend him more.
The stranger looked stricken. He turned quickly and reached out as if he were going to grab up the animal with his bare hands to hide it.
Dont be an idiot! I snapped. Youll burn yourself!
It must be hidden, he said desperately. I would rather die than offend mighty Aldur.
Just get out of the way, I told him.
What?
Stand clear, I said, irritably waving him off, unless you want to take a trip with your goat. Then I looked at his grotesque little altar, willed it to a spot five miles distant, and translocated it with a single word, leaving only a few tatters of confused smoke hanging in the air.
He collapsed on his face again.
Youre going to wear out your clothes if you keep doing that, I told him, and my Master wont find it very amusing.
I pray thee, mighty disciple of most high Aldur, he said, rising and dusting himself off again, instruct me so that I offend not the God. He must have been an Arend. No Tolnedran could possibly mangle the language the way he did.
Be truthful, I told him, and dont try to impress him with false show and flowery speech. Believe me, friend, he can see right straight into your heart, so theres no way you can deceive him. Im not sure which God you worshiped before, but Aldurs like no other God in the whole world. What an asinine thing that was to say. No two Gods are ever the same.
And how may I become his disciple, as thou art?
First you become his pupil, I replied, and thats not easy.
What must I do to become his pupil?
You must become his servant. I said it a bit smugly, Ill admit. A few years with an axe and a broom would probably do this pompous ass some good.
And then his pupil? he pressed.
In time, I replied, if he so wills. It wasnt up to me to reveal the secret of the Will and the Word to him. Hed have to find that out for himself the same as I had.
And when may I meet the God?
I was getting tired of him anyway, so I took him to the tower.