Chapter 1

Garion was struggling with the new responsibilities that had been thrust upon him. Belgarath the sorcerer, 7000 years old and respected by all, had decided it was time to give his "grandson" a taste of leadership, and so Garion was head of the leading party. He'd been allowed to choose his men, but he was starting to wonder if he'd been altogether selfless in his selection.

Truly, if he was being honest with himself, any man choosing a team would be a fool to not choose Belgarath or his daughter, Polgara, two of the most powerful sorcerers that the world had ever known. But Garion knew that if he'd selected either of them, they would automatically have stepped into the leadership role, a new role that Garion was keen to taste.

Similarly, Silk was a natural choice for a new leader. The weasel-faced man, silver-tongued and sharp-witted was adept at finding flaws in any plan. But it was exactly this trait that had caused Garion to leave Silk with the sorcerers - he wanted to lead, him, not simply be Silk's puppet. At least, that's what he told himself - in truth, he wasn't confident enough to hear any criticism, and so he had surrounded himself with friends - perhaps not the strongest possible team, but certainly the most supportive.

At his right hand was Lelldorin, the Arendian. Garion enjoyed having him by his side, knowing that if trouble struck, Lelldorin's loyalty and bravery would serve the party well. What's more, Lelldorin's immaturity and flightiness had ensured that he had never been placed in a position of authority, and he would be unable (and unlikely) to assess and critique Garion's own leadership skills.

Garion, leading the pack, held up his hand, and everyone stopped. Ahead on the path was a tree, the like of which Garion had never before encountered - not unusual in itself; less than a year ago, his life had been turned upside-down as he discovered that his "Aunt" Polgara was a sorceror, the thieving storyteller who visited the farm was the legendary Belgarath, and he himself was no ordinary farmboy, but a vital part in fulfilling a prophecy that would change the world forever.

Before then, he'd never left Sendaria - he'd barely left Faldor's farm. In the last few months, he'd seen many varied lands, from the swamps of Nyissa to the Woods of the Dryads, but the sighting of a tree he'd never seen before wouldn't cause him to look twice, let alone stop the party.

But there was something unusual about this tree ... it was surrounded by-

"And why, pray tell, have we stopped?"

Garion's thoughts were interrupted by Princess Ce'Nedra's haughty tones. Garion was struggling with the responsibilities of leadership, struggling with the new discoveries thrust upon him each and every day, the knowledge that he was a vital part of prophecies that countless individuals had been working towards for thousands of years ... but Garion was struggling with nothing more than he was struggling with Princess Ce'Nedra.

By the same logic he'd decided to avoid keeping Silk in his party, he should certainly have put the Princess with his "aunt" and "grandfather", but he somehow couldn't bring himself to do it. It wasn't, Garion was quick to remind himself, that he enjoyed her company or anything of the sort - no, he found that she wavered between openly intolerable, and at best simply obnoxious and insubordinate.

But irritating though her presence was, he found that somehow she was even more of a distraction when she wasn't present. His thoughts would constantly wander, wonder about her whereabouts, and rather than question that train of thought too deeply, it had been easier to simply ask her to accompany him.

Garion turned to look at her. She was almost a woman now, he realised, before again forcing himself to stop thinking such things. He avoided admiring her flowing red locks, her glowing, almost golden skin, and the swell of her young breasts. He refused to admit that the green dress that she wore contrasted beautifully with her skin, that her hair framed her face perfectly, and that the cleavage she showed was subtle enough to not appear deliberate, yet visible enough to fill Garion's head with thoughts of...

Of course, he wasn't thinking of any of that.

"That tree," he simply replied, not trusting his tongue to impart any more information than that.

Mandorallen followed his gesture, and looked at the tree that had caught Garion's interest. The Baron of Vo Mandor, Mandorallen was a huge, imposing figure of a man. Upon first glance, one could not be blamed for thinking that Mandorallen was nothing but a warrior, a thug of a man who enjoyed his well-polished armor, and running foes through with his sword.

Upon hearing Mandorallen speak, one might then adjust their opinion to think that he was nothing but bluster and cockiness - but before a third thought could even form, one would most likely have been on the receiving end of the Arendian's lance. Only those who got to know the large man realised that it wasn't bluster - he was true to his word. If Mandorallen claimed that he was going to run you in two, your only options were running or fighting - there was no bluff to call.

"Prithee," Mandorallen began. "My eyes hath never before seen such a tree, though mine parent-folk did talk about such things in story."

"I've heard these stories too." Garion was surprised to hear Hettar join in the conversation; the tall, hawk-faced man rarely spoke, preferring the company of the horses they rode on. Hettar was an Algar - with his head shaved bald, his dark leather clothing, and his black scalp lock, he was an imposing figures It wasn't until you got to know the man that you realised what a gentle soul he was, sharp-witted and generous, with a genuine love for the non-human beasts that he was able to communicate with.

"So tell me," Garion asked, a trifle impatiently. "What are these stories?"

Before they could share, there was a gasp. Princess Ce'Nedra had finally seen what had made Garion pull up short - the tall, unusual tree, surrounded by animals rutting.

Every type of animal that Garion had seen in the area was there, and each had a mate (if not more than one.) Dogs, pigs, birds, and if you peered closely enough, insects of all kinds could be seen, all of them within a few feet of the tree, all of them engaged in intercourse with their partner(s). Being brought up on a farm, Garion had seen livestock mating before, but whenever his Aunt Pol had caught him staring she had boxed his ears, and it was this upbringing that came to the fore now - once he'd realised what he was looking at, he'd looked away at once.

Ce'Nedra, however, had apparently not had such a childhood - she was staring, mouth agape, at the fornicating animals. Garion couldn't help but laugh at her expression, but not even that could distract her. After he'd laughed for a few seconds, Garion was the one who had to look away - the sight of Princess Ce'Nedra so entranced was doing things to him, and he wasn't quite prepared to deal with what that meant quite yet.

Tearing his eyes away from Ce'Nedra's face, Garion noticed that the rest of his party was similarly staring at her. A surge of jealousy came upon him, and he reminded himself that he was the leader here.

"Mandorallen," he barked, "Hettar. What are these stories?"

The two men blushed as they realised how distracted they had allowed themselves to become by the young princess. Hettar, not unexpectedly, gestured for Mandorallen to speak.

"The tree," Mandorallen started dramatically, "hath been given many names by the people of this world. Said to originally be a gift from the god of the Nyissans, Issa to his bride, the tree causes a deep, rich love to take hold of whomever should smell its rich scent. Thy nose shalt be the recipient of its flower, but the love shalt spread throughout thine whole body."

"Then why is it here?" Garion asked, puzzled. Now that it had been pointed out, he could see the resemblance of the tree to the twisted plants that had grown in the swamps of Nyissa, but Nyissa was more than a week's walk away.

"The flowers doth bloom but once each hundred years, but when they do, they spread far and wide, and all that have smelled their glorious odor are said to carry the seed of the flower with them until that sad day when they do die."

Garion turned to Hettar.

"If you've smelled the flower, when you die, a tree grows where you're buried." Hettar clarified.

"So why are those animals..."

"They're in love!" Princess Ce'Nedra said, interrupting Garion snidely. "I don't know what you learn in Sendaria, but I was taught from a young age that sex is the truest expression of love. Look at the creatures - there's no pain on their faces, they're just expressing their love the only way they know how."

Chapter 2 »