‘And what exactly did the Mallorean want?’ Silk asked.
‘This, Prince Kheldar,’ Sadi said, rising and going to his rumpled cot. He drew a carefully folded parchment from beneath the mattress and handed it to the little man.
Silk read it quickly and then whistled.
‘Well?’ Belgarath said.
‘It’s an official document,’ Silk replied. ‘At least, it’s over the queen’s seal. Early last spring, Salmissra dispatched a diplomatic mission to Sendaria.
‘That’s fairly routine, Silk.’
‘I know, but there are also some secret instructions to the diplomats. She tells them that they will be met at the mouth of the River of the Serpent by a foreigner, and that they are to render this stranger every possible aid. The gist of the whole thing is that these diplomats were to make arrangements to get the foreigner to the port of Halberg on the west coast of Cherek and to have a Nyissan ship standing off the Rivan coast on a certain date about the middle of last summer.’
‘Coincidence, perhaps?’ Belgarath suggested.
Silk shook his head and held up the parchment. ‘It identifies the foreigner by name. The diplomats were supposed to identify their passenger by the name “Zandramas.”’
‘That explains a few things, doesn’t it?’ Garion said.
‘May I see that?’ Polgara asked.
Silk handed her the parchment.
She looked at it briefly and then held it out to Sadi. ‘Are you positive that this is Salmissra’s seal?’ she asked him.
‘There’s no question about it, Polgara,’ he replied, ‘and no one dares to touch that seal without her consent.’
‘I see.’
‘How did you come by the document, Sadi?’ Silk asked curiously.
‘Four copies of all official documents are routinely made, Prince Kheldar. It’s one of the resources of those with access to the queen’s favor. The purchase price of extra copies has been established for centuries.’
‘All right,’ Garion said, ‘so Zandramas came to Nyissa posing as a merchant, arranged to have Sariss replace you as Chief Eunuch, and somehow managed to get Salmissra to issue that order. Is that it?’
‘It’s not quite that simple, Belgarion,’ Sadi told him. ‘The Mallorean merchant was not Zandramas. No one here in Sthiss Tor ever saw Zandramas. The “stranger” the document talks about joined the diplomats on their way to Sendaria. So far as I’ve been able to determine, Zandramas never passed through Sthiss Tor. Not only that, but after the arrangements for the ship to Halberg had been made, all the diplomats conveniently died. They were stopping over at an inn in Camaar on their way to the capital, and there was a fire in the middle of the night. No one escaped the fire.’
‘That’s got a familiar ring to it,’ Silk said.
‘All right then,’ Garion said, ‘who was the Mallorean jeweler?’
Sadi spread his hands helplessly. ‘I was never able to find out,’ he confessed.
‘Did you ever see him?’
‘Once. He was a strange-looking fellow. His eyes were absolutely colorless.’
There was a long pause, and then Silk said, ‘That clears up a few other things, doesn’t it?’
‘Maybe so,’ Garion said, ‘but it still doesn’t answer my main question. We know who Naradas is working for now. We know how Zandramas got to Cherek and escaped from the Isle of the Winds with my son, but what I need to know is where the trail we’re following is going to lead.’
Sadi shrugged. ‘Rak Verkat.’
‘How did you arrive at that conclusion?’ Silk asked him.
‘Sariss hasn’t been in power long enough to weed out the more untrustworthy of his underlings. I found one who was open to the notion of private enterprise. Zandramas has to be in Mallorea with Prince Geran by this coming spring, and the route must be by way of Rak Verkat.’
‘Wouldn’t it be shorter to sail from Rak Cthan?’ Silk asked.
Sadi looked at him with a faintly surprised expression. ‘I thought you knew,’ he said. ‘Kal Zakath has put a very handsome price on the head of Zandramas, and the Mallorean reserves are concentrated at Rak Hagga. If Zandramas tried to go through Hagga to reach Cthan, all those troops would drop whatever they were doing to go head-hunting. The only safe port for Zandramas to sail from is Rak Verkat.’
‘Was this underling you bribed reliable?’ Silk demanded.
‘Of course not. As soon as he had finished telling me all this, he had planned to turn me in for the reward—dead, naturally, so he didn’t really have any reason to lie to me, and he was too stupid to make up a coherent lie, anyway.’ The eunuch smiled bleakly. ‘I know of a certain plant, though. It’s a very reliable plant. The man was telling me the absolute truth. As a matter of fact, he kept telling me the truth long after it had begun to bore me. Sariss provided Zandramas with an escort across Nyissa and detailed maps of the shortest route to the Isle of Verkat.’
‘Was that all the fellow said?’ Garion asked.
‘Oh, no,’ Sadi replied. ‘He was busy confessing to me that he had cheated on an examination in school when I finally had Issus cut his throat. I can only deal with so much truth in one day.’
‘All right,’ Garion said, ignoring that, ‘Zandramas is going to the Isle of Verkat. How does that help us?’
‘The route Zandramas will have to follow will be roundabout—because of that reward I mentioned. We, on the other hand, can go straight across southern Cthol Murgos to the Isle. It will save us months.’
‘That route goes right through the war zone,’ Silk protested.
‘That’s no particular problem. I can take you directly through to Verkat without any hindrance from either the Murgos or the Malloreans.’
‘How do you propose to manage that?’
‘When I was younger, I was engaged in the slave trade in Cthol Murgos. I know all the routes and I know whom to bribe and whom to avoid. Slavers are useful to both sides in the war between the Murgos and Malloreans, so they’re allowed to move around freely. All we have to do is dress as slave traders, and no one will interfere with us.’
‘What’s to keep you from selling us to the Grolims as soon as we cross the border?’ Silk asked bluntly.
‘Self-interest.’ Sadi shrugged. ‘Grolims are an ungrateful lot. If I sell you to them, it’s quite likely that they’ll turn around and sell me to Salmissra. I don’t think I’d like that at all.’
‘Is she really that angry with you?’ Garion asked.
‘Irritated,’ Sadi said. ‘A snake doesn’t really get angry. I’ve heard, however, that she wants to bite me personally. That’s a great honor, of course, but one I’d prefer to forgo.’
The door to the hidden room clicked open, and Droblek looked in. ‘Issus is back,’ he said.
‘Good,’ Belgarath replied. ‘I want to get back across the river before morning.’
The one-eyed man came in carrying the case Sadi had described. It was a flat, square box a couple of feet across and several inches thick. ‘What’s in this, Sadi?’ he asked. ‘It gurgles.’ He shook the case.
‘Be careful man!’ Sadi exclaimed. ‘Some of those bottles are fragile.’
‘What’s this?’ Belgarath demanded.
‘A bit of this, a bit of that,’ Sadi replied evasively.
‘Drugs?’
‘And poisons and antidotes—a few aphrodisiacs, an anesthetic or two, a fairly effective truth drug—and Zith.’
‘What is Zith?’
‘Zith is a who, Ancient One, not a what. I never go anywhere without her.’ He opened the case and lovingly took out a small earthenware bottle, securely corked and with a series of small holes encircling its neck. ‘Would you hold this, please?’ he said, handing the bottle to Silk. ‘I want to make sure Issus didn’t break anything.’ He began to carefully examine the row after row of little vials nested in velvet-lined pockets inside the case.
Silk looked curiously at the bottle, then took hold of the cork.
‘I reall
y wouldn’t do that, Prince Kheldar,’ Sadi advised. ‘You might get a nasty surprise.’
‘What’s in here?’ Silk asked, shaking the bottle.
‘Please, Kheldar. Zith becomes vexed when people shake her.’ Sadi closed the case, set it aside, and took the bottle from Silk. ‘There, there,’ he said to it in a crooning voice. ‘It’s nothing to be alarmed about, dear. I’m right here and I won’t let him disturb you any more.’
From inside the bottle came a peculiar purring sound.
‘How did you get a cat in there?’ Garion asked.
‘Oh, Zith isn’t a cat, Belgarion,’ Sadi assured him. ‘Here, I’ll show you.’ Carefully he worked the cork out and laid the bottle on its side on the table. ‘You can come out now, dear,’ he crooned to it.
Nothing happened.
‘Come along now, Zith. Don’t be shy.’
Then a small, bright green snake slithered obediently from the mouth of the bottle. She had gleaming yellow eyes and a vibrant red stripe running down her back from nose to tail. Her forked tongue flickered out, touching Sadi’s outstretched hand.
Silk recoiled with a sharp intake of breath.
‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Sadi said, gently stroking the little snake’s head with one finger. The snake began to purr contentedly, then raised her head, fixed Silk with a cold, reptilian eye, and hissed spitefully at him.
‘I do believe that you offended her, Prince Kheldar,’ Sadi said. ‘Maybe you should stay away from her for a while.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Silk said fervently, backing away. ‘Is she venomous?’
‘She’s the deadliest little snake in the world, aren’t you, dear?’ Sadi stroked the snake’s head again. ‘Also the rarest. Her species is highly prized in Nyissa because they’re the most intelligent of all reptiles. They’re friendly—even affectionate—and, of course, the purr is absolutely delightful.’
‘But she does bite,’ Silk added.
‘Only people who irritate her—and never a friend. All you have to do is feed her and keep her warm and show her a little affection now and then, and she’ll follow you around like a puppy.’
‘Not me, she won’t.’
‘Sadi,’ Belgarath said, pointing at the case, ‘what’s the idea of all this? I don’t need a walking apothecary shop trailing along behind me.’
Sadi held up one hand. ‘Murgos aren’t really very interested in money, Ancient One, but there are people I’ll have to bribe when we go across Cthol Murgos. Some of them have picked up certain habits. That case is going to be worth more to us than a pack horse loaded down with gold.’
Belgarath grunted. ‘Just keep your face out of it. I don’t want your head full of smoke at a crucial moment—and keep your snake under control.’
‘Of course, Belgarath.’
The old sorcerer turned to Issus. ‘Can you get a bigger boat? We need to get back across the river, and that one of yours won’t hold all of us.’
Issus nodded.
‘Not just yet, father,’ Polgara said. ‘I’m going to need him for a while.’
‘Pol, we need to get back on the other side of the river before dawn.’
‘I won’t be too long, father, but I have to go to the palace.’
‘The palace?’
‘Zandramas went to Cherek—where no Angarak has been allowed since the days of Bear-shoulders. Salmissra arranged that and she also engineered the escape from the Isle of the Winds after the abduction of Ce’Nedra’s baby. I want to know why.’
‘We’re a bit pressed for time, Polgara. Can’t this wait?’
‘I don’t think so, father. I think we need to know if there were any other arrangements. I’d rather not be surprised by a battalion or so of Nyissan troops lurking in the jungle along the trail we’re following.’
He frowned. ‘You might be right.’
‘You’re going to the palace?’ Garion asked her.
‘I must, dear.’
‘All right,’ he said, squaring his shoulders. ‘Then I’m going with you.’
She gave him a long, steady look. ‘You’re going to insist, I take it?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, Aunt Pol, I think I am.’ He said it quite decisively.
She sighed. ‘How quickly they grow up,’ she said. Then she turned to Issus. ‘Do you know a back way to the palace?’ she asked him.
The one-eyed man nodded.
‘Will you show us?’
‘Of course,’ he replied. He paused. ‘We can discuss the price later.’
‘Price?’
‘Nothing for nothing, Lady,’ he shrugged. ‘Shall we go?’
It was nearly midnight when Issus led Polgara and Garion out the rear door of Droblek’s house into a narrow alleyway that smelled strongly of rotting garbage. They made their way furtively through a twisting series of similar alleys, sometimes passing through the lower corridors of houses to move from one alley to another.
‘How do you know which houses have unlocked doors?’ Garion whispered as they emerged from a tall, narrow house in a run-down quarter of the city.
‘It’s my business to know,’ Issus replied. He straightened and looked around. ‘We’re getting close to the palace,’ he told them. ‘The streets and alleys in this part of the city are patrolled. Wait here a minute.’ He stealthily crossed the alley, opened a recessed door, and slipped inside. A couple of moments later he emerged, carrying two silk robes, a pair of lances, and a couple of brass helmets. ‘We’ll wear these,’ he said to Garion, ‘and if you don’t mind, Lady, pull your hood farther over your face. If anybody stops us, let me do the talking.’
Garion pulled on the robe and helmet and took one of the lances from the assassin.
‘Tuck your hair up under the helmet,’ Issus instructed. Then he stepped out boldly, trusting to their disguises rather than to stealth.
They had no sooner entered the next street than they were stopped by a half-dozen armed men.
‘What’s your business?’ the man in charge of the patrol demanded.
‘We’re escorting a visitor to the palace,’ Issus replied.
‘What kind of visitor?’
Issus gave him a disgusted look. ‘You don’t really want to interfere, corporal,’ he said. ‘The one she’s visiting wouldn’t like it.’
‘And who is that?’
‘Now, that’s a very stupid question, man. If this woman’s friend finds out that I told you, we’ll probably both wind up in the river.’
‘How do I know that you’re telling me the truth?’
‘You don’t—but do you really want to take a chance on it?’
The corporal’s expression grew faintly nervous as he thought about it. ‘You’d better move along,’ he said finally.
‘I was sure you’d see it my way,’ Issus observed. He roughly took hold of Polgara’s arm. ‘Move, you,’ he commanded.
When they reached the end of the street, Garion glanced back. The soldiers were still watching them, but made no move to follow.
‘I hope you weren’t offended, Lady,’ Issus apologized.
‘No,’ Polgara replied. ‘You’re a very resourceful fellow, Issus.’
‘That’s what I get paid for. We go this way.’
The wall of Salmissra’s palace was very high, constructed of great roughhewn stone blocks that had stood for eons in this dank city by the river. Issus led them into the dense shadows under the wall and to a small, iron-barred gate. He fumbled with the lock for a moment, then carefully swung the gate open. ‘Let’s go,’ he muttered.
The palace was a maze of dimly lighted corridors, but Issus led them confidently, moving along as if he were on an important mission. As they approached the broader, somewhat more brightly lighted hallways near the center of the palace, a grotesquely made-up eunuch lurched by, his legs stiff and his eyes unfocused. His mouth was fixed in a stupefied grin, and his body twitched spasmodically as he stumbled past them. They passed an open doorway and heard someone inside giggling uncontrollably. Garion
could not be sure if that unseen person was a man or a woman.
The one-eyed man stopped and opened a door. ‘We have to go through here,’ he said, taking a smoky lamp from the niche beside the door. ‘Be careful. It’s dark, and there are snakes on the floor.’
The room was cool and had a musty smell. Garion could clearly hear the dry, dusty hiss of scales rubbing against each other in the corners. ‘It’s fairly safe,’ Issus said. ‘They were fed today, and that always makes them sluggish.’ He stopped at the door, opened it a crack and peered out. ‘Wait,’ he whispered.
Garion heard a couple of men talking and the sound of their footsteps in the corridor outside. Then a door opened and closed.
‘It’s clear,’ Issus said quietly. ‘Let’s go.’ He led them out into the corridor and along its dimly lighted length to a polished door. He looked at Polgara. ‘Are you sure you want to see the queen?’ he asked her.
She nodded.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Sariss is in here. He’ll take us to the throne room.’
‘Are you sure?’ Garion whispered.
Issus reached under the robe he had donned in the alley and drew out a long, saw-edged dagger. ‘I can practically guarantee it,’ he said. ‘Give me a moment. Then come in and close the door.’ He shoved the door open and jumped into the room like a great, soft-footed cat.
‘What—’ someone inside the room cried out in a high-pitched voice. Then there was a terrified silence.
Garion and Polgara entered quickly, closing the door behind them. A man sat at the table, his eyes bulging with fright and with the needlepoint of Issus’ dagger pushed against his throat. He wore a crimson silk robe, and his shaven head was pasty white. Rolls of greasy, unhealthy-looking fat drooped from his jowls, and his frightened eyes were small and piglike.
Issus was talking to him in a dreadfully quiet voice, emphasizing what he was saying by pressing the point of his knife into the skin of the fat man’s throat. ‘This is an Ulgo knife, Sariss. It causes almost no damage when it goes in, but when you pull it out, it jerks out all kinds of things along with it. Now, we aren’t going to make any kind of outcry, are we?’