Disclaimer: Same as previous chapter.
A/N: Sorry about the wait! I've had nearly no time since the last update and May Day, as it is for morris dancers across the world, is a very busy day. But hopefully this will have uploaded as I want it to and you will enjoy it.
Chapter 2
Walking through the middle of a wood, Garion decided, was one of the best ways to think clearly. Any wood would do, he supposed, but it would have to be wild, untamed, untouched by human presence. Having grown up in Sendaria, where everything was regulated as much as possible, he appreciated all the more seeing nature in a state unchanged by man's hand, oblivious even of his very existence. You felt as if you were at the beginning of time, when everything was fresh and new: the whole of the future was yet to be played out. Aunt Pol and Ce'Nedra would probably express this feeling much better than him. He smiled to himself as he remembered when he had first been to the Vale and his aunt had been distracted by all the birds welcoming her. And how his wife experienced that same abstraction when she was near any trees and particularly when she "met" the Tree. No, he was not alone. Certainly there were no humans nearby but that didn't mean that as he voiced his thoughts aloud there wasn't something, someone to hear his grievances, perhaps even understand them, and maybe in some way comfort and guide him towards finding a solution.
His thoughts chased each other around his head in a confused silent cacophony. This was another reason he didn't want company: as he set up a small tent, lit the fire, dug a cesspit, collected firewood, fetched water, dug up worms, he did everything by hand, not using any sorcery. He felt more real and the work helped to distract him from his thoughts, the past and the future by helping him to focus on the immediate and necessary present. Now he understood why his Aunt Pol had always found something physically hard for him to do while Ce'Nedra was giving birth. Not having a horse was also good because he didn't need to look after it and he was always tired at night after a hard day of marching. This contributed very much to keeping the nightmares at bay: not even loneliness could defy physical exhaustion.
Though it was only a little after midday he had a feeling that fish would be good for supper and that this pool, with a little encouragement, would yield a few tasty morsels. He sat on the shore and let the cool ripples soothe his aching feet and the sighing of the wind through the leafy branches of the trees lulled his mind enough for him sort out one thought from another. On the one hand it was very simple: he'd just needed to get away for a bit. On the other hand it was very difficult: there were so many reasons for this need, all mixed together. The main reason was probably age. It was decades since he first took the throne and the responsibilities were starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders already bowed by years so numerous that he had stopped wanting to count them long ago. He couldn't imagine how Belgarath and Polgara could stand it. He was beginning to understand when his ultimate grandfather had described his life as a long funeral: his co-rulers were steadily being replaced by their sons and daughters. Queen Islena of Cherek passed away and Anheg, a real gentle giant, followed a year after. He hadn't seen Zakath for many years now since neither his friend nor his wife could hardly walk any more. But worst of all was losing his friends. Lelldorin and Mandorallen, though younger than his other companions, now mostly stayed at Korodullin and Mayaserana's court, training young knights. Nerina had left them many years back, so she did not have to suffer the loss of both the men she loved as she had so feared. After Merel's death, Barak and Greldik had left on a voyage to discover what lay beyond the Isle of the Winds if one went far enough West. This had been fifteen years ago and they had heard nothing for about ten of those. Hettar could no longer ride and Adara cared for him at the Stronghold, occasionally helped by Ariana when she visited. Relg and Taiba had died on the same day: the story went that Taiba, exhausted by so many births, felt her time coming and Relg, who was very old by then, asked Ul to make it so that neither would mourn the other. But of all his friends, the witty little Drasnian was the one Garion would most miss. Although Durnik, now that he was a sorcerer, would live longer than a normal human, Silk who had been born around the same time, had died only a few months ago, leaving Velvet, so much younger than him, to make sure their brood were successful at the Academy. He suspected Prala was suffering the same fate but he wasn't sure because she and Urgit had gone travelling around boundless Mallorea and they had had no news for many months.
Without these friends who had seemed a constant support during the troubled times, the burden of running a country was worse than it had ever been, even when he had still been getting used to it. Of course he had more experience to rely on now and his elder son and daughters did most of the ruling but the final word always came to him and the responsibility of having to do what was best for most of the population was still a weighty responsibility. This trip was in part caused by this: Zakath had once remarked how difficult it was to get away from all these decisions but he didn't have the advantage of being able to fly off his castle walls, the only bit of sorcery Garion had used on this journey. It might have been nice to have had the opportunity just to become a farmer and lead a simple life, but then it would have been even harder to get away: at least as a king he knew that he could come back to his job and he would still eat. He had never asked for such advantages though, nor had he asked to be a sorcerer. There simply had been things that had needed to be done and all had been prepared for them to be done: he had had the "misfortune" of being the one chosen to do them. Not that he hadn't been rewarded: he had a loving wife and seven wonderful children and they were starting a new unknown era in time but he had never got to choose. No, that wasn't quite true: taking decisions meant making choices and not all of those had been the right ones but he had done his best and had, somehow, muddled through. No one would have done more than that and no one could have done either.
He felt something tug his rod: supper was just on the end of his line. His thoughts turned to more mundane matters throughout the evening as he prepared and cooked his catch and turned in for the night.
As was his wont, he awoke the next morning with the dawn chorus. He washed in the pool and broke camp, taking care to leave as few signs of his passage as possible. He continued on his way until late afternoon. It was then that he became aware that he was no longer alone. Someone was walking towards him from his right and their paths would soon cross. Before he could make up his mind, as to whether he wanted to meet this stranger, the person in question came out of a thicket a little ahead of him. His sharply indrawn breath attracted their attention and they turned to him.
"Garion?", the woman said a little unsure. She took a couple of hesitant steps towards him. "What are you doing here? Are you on your own?"
A/N: Hee hee, who is this then? Most, if not all, of you will probably have guessed by now but, in case you haven't, here's a clue: all will be revealed in the next chapter. *maniacal evil laugh* But do R&R anyway!
