I'll admit that I was a little disappointed that my sister didn't turn green with envy, but no triumph is ever total, is it?

Anrak's face grew melancholy, and he sighed.  He explained to Riva how much he regretted not having pressed his suit.

Isn't that an absurd turn of phrase?  It makes Anrak sound like a laundress with a hot flatiron.  Sorry.


His rueful admission made my morning complete, and it opened whole new vistas to me.  Being adored is a rather pleasant way to pass the time, wouldn't you say?  Not only that; both Anrak and his cousin automatically ennobled me by calling me "Lady Polgara," and that has a rather nice ring to it.

Then Riva's cousin came up with a number of profound misconceptions about what father calls our "talent."  He clearly believed that my transformation had been the result of magic an even went so far as to suggest that I could be in two places - and times - simultaneously.  I rather gently tweaked his beard on that score.  I found myself growing fonder and fonder of Anrak.  He said such nice things about me.

It was perhaps noon by the time we went down to the harbor to board Riva's ship.  Beldaran and I had never seen the sea before, nor a ship, for that matter, and we both were a little apprehensive  about our upcoming voyage.  The weather was fine, though there were all those waves out there.  I'm not sure exactly what we'd expected, but all the ponds in the Vale had absolutely flat surefaces, so we weren't prepared for waves.  There was also a peculiar odor about the sea.  It had a sharp tang to it that overlaid the more disgusting smells that characterize every harbor in the world.  I suppose it's human nature to dispose of garbage in the simplest way possible, but it struck me as improvident to dump it into a body of water that'll return it to you on each incoming tide.

The ship seemed quite large to me, but I found the cabins belowdecks tiny and cramped, and everything seemed to be coated with a black, greasy substance.  "What's that smeared all over the walls?" I asked uncle Beldin.

"Tar," he replied with an indifferent shrug.  "It helps to keep the water out."

That sort of alarmed me.  "The boat's made of wood," I said.  "Isn't wood supposed to float?"

"Only when it's one solid piece, Pol.  The sea wants to have a level surface, and empty places under that surface offend it, so it tries to seep in and fill up those spaces.  And the tar keeps the wood from rotting."

"I don't like it."

"I'm sure your opinion hurts its feelings."

"You always have to try to be clever, don't you, uncle?"

"Look upon it as a character defect if you like."  He grinned.

After Beldaran and I had deposited our belongings in our tiny cabin, we went back up on deck.  Riva's sailors were making the vessel ready to depart.  They were burly, bearded men, many of whom were stripped to the waist.  All that bare skin made me just a little jumpy for some reason.

There seemed to be ropes everywhere - an impossible snarl passing through pulleys and running upward in an incomprehensible tangle.  The sailors untied the ropes that held the ship up against the wharf, and then pushed us a ways out and took their places at the oars.  One ruffian with an evil face sat cross-legged in the stern and began to pound rhythmically on a hide-topped drum to set the pace for the oarsmen.  The ship moved slowly out through the crowded harbor toward the open sea.