The Malloreon: Book 02 - King of the Murgos

by David Eddings

  Chabat’s flame-marked face was filled with chagrin. Garion saw that she had been convinced that the Hierarch, as he apparently had so many times in the past, would meekly accede to her peremptory demands, and she had staked all of her prestige on the punishment of Sadi, for whom she had developed an instantaneous dislike. Agachak’s unexpected and almost contemptuous rejection of the accusations she and Sorchak had leveled struck at the very foundations of her puffed-up self-esteem, but more importantly at her position of power here in the Temple. Unless she could somehow salvage something—anything—out of this, her many enemies would inevitably pull her down. Garion fervently hoped that Sadi realized that she was even more dangerous now than she had been when she had thought she held the upper hand.

  Her narrowed eyes grew cautious as she assessed the Hierarch’s mood, then she drew herself up and addressed King Urgit. ‘There is also a civil crime here, your Majesty,’ she told him. ‘I had believed that the desecration of the Sanctum was more serious, but since our revered Hierarch has discovered in his wisdom that those charges were unfounded, it is now my duty to advise you of a crime against the State.’

  Urgit exchanged a quick look with Agachak, then slouched lower in his chair, his eyes unhappy. ‘The Crown is always ready to listen to the words of the priesthood,’ he replied without much enthusiasm.

  Chabat gave Sadi another look of smug triumph and open hatred. ‘Since the founding of our nation, the vile drugs and poisons of the snake-people have been forbidden in Cthol Murgos by royal decree,’ she pointed out. ‘After this Ussa and his servants were confined in the dungeon, I had their belongings searched.’ She turned. ‘Bring in that case,’ she ordered.

  A side door opened, and an obsequious underpriest entered, carrying Sadi’s red leather case. The fanatic Sorchak took it from him, his face also gleefully triumphant. ‘Behold the evidence that Ussa of Sthiss Tor has violated our law and that his life is forfeit,’ he said in his strident voice. He undid the latch, opened the case, and displayed Sadi’s many vials and the earthenware bottle where Zith resided.

  Urgit’s face grew even more unhappy. He looked uncertainly at Sadi. ‘Is there some explanation for this, Ussa?’ he asked hopefully.

  Sadi’s face took on an exaggerated expression of innocence. ‘Surely your Majesty could not believe that I ever intended to try to distribute those items here in Cthol Murgos,’ he protested.

  ‘Well,’ Urgit said lamely, ‘you have got them with you.’

  ‘Of course, but they’re for trade with the Malloreans. There’s quite a market for this sort of thing among those people.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be in the least surprised,’ Urgit said, straightening in his chair. ‘Then you had no intention of peddling your drugs to my subjects?’

  ‘Most certainly not, your Majesty,’ Sadi replied indignantly.

  Urgit’s expression grew relieved. ‘Well,’ he said to the glowering Chabat, ‘there you have it, then. Certainly none of us could object to the fact that our Nyissan friend here is bent on corrupting the Malloreans—the more the better, I’d say.’

  ‘What about this?’ Sorchak said, putting Sadi’s case on the floor and lifting out the earthenware bottle. ‘What secret is hidden in here, Ussa of Sthiss Tor?’ He shook the bottle.

  ‘Be careful, man!’ Sadi exclaimed, leaping forward with his hand outstretched.

  ‘Ah-ha!’ Chabat exclaimed triumphantly. ‘It appears that there is something in that bottle that the slaver considers important. Let us examine the contents. It may yet be that some undiscovered crime lurks here. Open the bottle, Sorchak.’

  ‘I beg of you,’ Sadi pleaded. ‘If you value your life, do not tamper with that bottle.’

  ‘Open it, Sorchak,’ Chabat ordered relentlessly.

  The smirking Grolim shook the bottle again and then began to work out the stopper.

  ‘Please, noble Priest!’ Sadi’s voice was anguished.

  ‘We’ll just have a look.’ Sorchak grinned. ‘I’m sure that one look won’t hurt anything.’ He drew out the cork and raised the bottle to his eye to peer in.

  Zith, of course, took immediate action.

  With a strangled shriek, Sorchak arched backward, flinging both arms into the air. The earthenware bottle sailed upward, and Sadi caught it just before it struck the floor. The stricken priest clapped both hands over his eye. There was a look of horror on his face, and blood spurted out from between his fingers. He began to squeal like a pig, all of his limbs convulsing. He suddenly pitched forward, threshing wildly and clawing tatters of skin from his face. He began to bang his head on the floor. His convulsions grew more violent and he began to froth at the mouth. With a shrill shriek, he suddenly leaped high into the air. When he came down, he was dead.

  There was a moment of stunned silence, then Chabat suddenly shrieked, ‘Sorchak!’ Her voice was filled with anguish and insupportable loss. She flew to the side of the dead man and fell across his body, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Urgit stared in open-mouthed revulsion at Sorchak’s corpse. ‘Torak’s teeth!’ he swore in a strangled whisper, ‘what have you got in that bottle, Ussa?’

  ‘Uh—it’s a pet, your Majesty,’ Sadi replied nervously. ‘I did try to warn him.’

  ‘Indeed you did, Ussa,’ Agachak crooned. ‘We all heard you. Do you suppose I might see this pet of yours?’ A cruel smile crossed his face as he looked gloatingly at the hysterically sobbing Chabat.

  ‘Certainly, Holy One,’ Sadi answered quickly. He carefully laid the bottle on the floor. ‘Just a precaution,’ he apologized. ‘She’s a little excited, and I wouldn’t want her to make any mistakes.’ He leaned over the bottle. ‘It’s all right now, dear,’ he said soothingly to the vengeful little reptile lurking inside. ‘The bad man has gone away, and everything is fine now.’

  Zith sulked in her bottle, still greatly offended.

  ‘Really, dear,’ Sadi assured her, ‘it’s all right. Don’t you trust me?’

  There was a snippy little hiss from inside the bottle.

  ‘That’s a very naughty thing to say, Zith,’ Sadi gently reproved her. ‘I did everything I could to keep him from disturbing you.’ He looked apologetically at Agachak. ‘I really don’t know where she picks up such language, Holy One,’ he declared. He turned his attention back to the bottle. ‘Please, dear, don’t be nasty.’

  Another spiteful little hiss came from the bottle.

  ‘Now that’s going entirely too far, Zith. You come out of there at once.’

  Cautiously the little green snake poked her head out of the bottle, raised herself and looked at the corpse on the floor. Sorchak’s face was a ghastly blue color, and the foam was drying on his lips. Chabat, still weeping hysterically, clung to his stiffening body. Zith slithered the rest of the way out of her little house, dismissed the dead man with a contemptuous flick of her tail, and crawled to Sadi, purring with a smug little sound of self-satisfaction. Sadi reached down his hand to her, and she nuzzled affectionately at his fingers. ‘Isn’t she adorable?’ he said fondly. ‘She’s always so kittenish after she bites someone.’

  A slight movement caught Garion’s eye. Velvet was leaning forward, looking at the contentedly purring little reptile with an expression of wholly absorbed fascination.

  ‘You’ve got her under control, haven’t you, Ussa?’ Urgit asked in a faintly apprehensive voice.

  ‘Oh, yes, your Majesty,’ Sadi assured him. ‘She’s perfectly content now. In a little bit, I’ll give her a light snack and a nice little bath, and she’ll sleep like a baby.’

  Urgit turned back to the Hierarch. ‘Well, Agachak?’ he said, ‘what’s your decision? Personally, I see no reason to continue this investigation. The slaver and his servants appear to be quite blameless.’

  The Hierarch considered it, his eyes hooded. ‘I believe you’re right, your Majesty.’ He turned to one of his Grolims. ‘Free this idiot boy,’ he said, pointing at Eriond.

  Chabat, her scarred face ravaged by grief, sl
owly raised herself from Sorchak’s body. She looked first at Urgit and then at Agachak. ‘And what of this?’ she demanded in a voice vibrant with her emotion. ‘What of this?’ She indicated the stiffening Sorchak at her feet. ‘Who is to be punished for this? Upon whom shall I wreak my vengeance?’

  ‘This man died through his own act, Chabat,’ Agachak dismissed her demand. ‘There was no crime involved.’

  ‘No crime?’ Her voice was choked. ‘No crime?’ It rose in a crescendo. ‘Are Grolim lives so cheap that you will now throw them away?’ She spun and fixed Sadi with her burning eyes. ‘You will pay for this, Ussa of Sthiss Tor,’ she declared. ‘I swear it upon the body of Sorchak and upon that of Torak. You will never escape me. I will have revenge upon you and all your servants for the death of Sorchak.’

  ‘Why are you so upset, Chabat?’ Agachak asked with malicious amusement in his hollow voice. ‘There are scores of Grolims in the Temple. Sorchak was one like all the rest—greedy, ambitious, and deceitful. His death was the result of his own folly—and of yours.’ A cruel smile touched his thin lips. ‘Could it be that your interest in this dead Grolim was personal? You have long been my favorite, Chabat. I trusted you entirely. Is it possible that you have been unfaithful to me, seeking entertainment in the arms of another?’

  Her face blanched, and she lifted one trembling hand to her lips as she realized that she had gone too far and revealed too much.

  Agachak laughed, a chilling sound. ‘Did you actually believe that I was so engrossed in my search for the Sardion that I was not aware of your private amusements?’ He paused. ‘Tell me, Chabat,’ he said in an offhand way, ‘did you and Sorchak ever succeed in raising a demon?’

  She drew back, her eyes wide with sudden terror as she faced her master.

  ‘I thought not,’ he murmured. ‘What a shame. All that effort wasted. Perhaps you need a new partner in your midnight rites, Chabat. Sorchak’s heart was never really in your attempts anyway. He was nothing more than a cheap opportunist, so your loss is not as great as you might think. Do you know what he called you in private?’ he asked her, his eyes alight.

  She shook her head numbly.

  ‘I have it on the very best authority that he customarily referred to you as “that scar-faced hag.” Does that in any way mollify your grief?’

  Chabat recoiled from him, her face suffused with mortification as she realized that she had just been cruely humiliated in public. She whirled in rage and kicked the dead man in his unfeeling side. ‘Scar-faced hag?’ she shrieked, kicking the body again. ‘Scar-faced hag? Rot, Sorchak! And may the worms enjoy your stinking carcass!’ Then she spun and fled, sobbing, from the room.

  ‘She seems a trifle distraught,’ Urgit observed mildly.

  Agachak shrugged. ‘The shattering of illusions is always painful.’

  Urgit pulled absently at his pointed nose. ‘Her distraction, however, raises certain risks here, Agachak,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘The mission of this slaver is vital to both of us, and an hysterical woman—particularly one with the kind of power Chabat possesses—can be very dangerous. She obviously bears Ussa here a certain enmity, and since he was involved in both her humiliation and the death of Sorchak, I’d say that right now the Temple might not be the safest place in the world for him.’

  Agachak nodded gravely. ‘Your Majesty’s point is well taken.’

  Urgit’s face brightened as if an idea had just occurred to him. ‘Agachak,’ he said, ‘what would you say to the notion of my keeping Ussa and his servants at the Drojim until we can see him safely on his way? That would put him beyond Chabat’s reach in the event that her distraction impels her into any kind of rashness.’ He paused nervously. ‘It’s entirely up to you, Holy Agachak,’ he added quickly.

  ‘There is much to what you say, Urgit,’ Agachak replied. ‘A small slip here could put you at the mercy of Kal Zakath and me on my knees before either Urvon or Zandramas. Let us by all means avoid those disasters.’ He turned to Sadi. ‘You and your servants will accompany his Majesty to the Drojim Palace, Ussa. I’ll have your belongings sent along later. You’ll be safe there, and your ship will be ready in a few days.’ He smiled ironically. ‘I hope you appreciate our tender concern for your well-being.’

  Sadi bowed. ‘I am overwhelmed with gratitude, Holy One,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll keep the Dagashi Kabach here in the Temple, however,’ Agachak said to the King. ‘That way each of us will have in his hands a vital element in the mission to Rak Hagga. It should encourage us to co-operate.’

  ‘Of course,’ Urgit agreed hastily, ‘I quite understand.’ He rose to his feet. ‘The hour grows late,’ he noted. ‘I’ll return to the Drojim now and leave you to your many religious duties, Dread Hierarch.’

  ‘Give my regards to the Lady Tamazin, your noble mother,’ Agachak responded.

  ‘I will, Agachak. I know that she’ll be smothered with joy to know that you remembered her. Come along then, Ussa.’ He turned and started toward the door.

  ‘May the spirit of Torak go with you, your Majesty,’ Agachak called after him.

  ‘I certainly hope not,’ Urgit muttered to Sadi as they passed through the doorway.

  ‘Your Majesty’s arrival came at a critical moment,’ Sadi said quietly as the two of them led the way down the hall. ‘Things were getting a bit tense.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ Urgit said sourly. ‘If it weren’t for the absolute necessity of getting Kabach to Rak Hagga, I’d never have risked a confrontation with the Grolims. I’m sure you’re a nice enough fellow, but I have my own skin to consider.’

  When they were outside the nail-studded doors of the Temple, the Murgo King straightened and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. ‘I’m always glad to get out of that stinking place,’ he declared. He motioned to one of his guards. ‘Go get the horses,’ he commanded.

  ‘At once, your Majesty.’

  Then Urgit turned back to the shaven-headed Nyissan. ‘All right, you sly fox,’ he said in an amused tone, ‘now perhaps you’d like to tell me what you’re doing down here in Cthol Murgos—and why you’ve assumed this pose. I almost fainted dead away when I discovered that the mysterious Ussa of Sthiss Tor was none other than my old friend Sadi, Chief Eunuch in the palace of Queen Salmissra.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  They clattered through the deserted midnight streets of Rak Urga with the king’s torch-bearing guards drawn up closely around them. ‘It’s all a sham, of course,’ Urgit was saying to Sadi. ‘I bow and scrape to Agachak, mouth pious platitudes to make him happy, and keep my real opinions to myself. I need his support, so I have to stay on the good side of him. He knows that, so he takes every possible advantage of the situation.’

  ‘The bond between Church and State here in Cthol Murgos is well known,’ Sadi noted as they entered a broad square where flaring torches painted the sides of nearby buildings a smoky orange.

  Urgit made an indelicate sound. ‘Bond!’ he snorted, ‘More like a chain, Sadi—and it’s around my neck.’ He looked up at the murky sky, his sharp-featured face ruddy in the torchlight. ‘Agachak and I agree on one thing, though. It’s absolutely essential to get the Dagashi Kabach to Rak Hagga before winter sets in. Jaharb’s had his people combing all of Western Cthol Murgos for months looking for a slaver to slip Kabach through Mallorean lines.’ He suddenly grinned at Sadi. ‘As luck had it, the one he found just happened to be an old friend of mine. I don’t know that we need to let Agachak know that we’re acquainted, though. I like to keep a few secrets from him.’

  Sadi made a sour face. ‘It’s not too hard to guess why you’re sending an assassin to the city where Kal Zakath’s headquarters are located.’

  ‘I wouldn’t advise lingering for any sight-seeing after you get him there,’ Urgit agreed. ‘But then, Rak Hagga’s not a very attractive town anyway.’

  Sadi nodded glumly. ‘That’s more or less what I thought.’ He considered it, running one long-fingered hand over his
shaven scalp. ‘The death of Zakath won’t really solve your problem, though, will it? I can’t really see the Mallorean generals packing up and going home just because their emperor’s been killed.’

  Urgit sighed. ‘One thing at a time, Sadi. I can probably bribe the generals, or pay them tribute or something. The first step is to get rid of Zakath. You can’t reason with that man.’ He looked around at the bleak stone buildings, harshly illuminated by flickering torchlight. ‘I hate this place,’ he said suddenly. ‘I absolutely hate it.’

  ‘Rak Urga?’

  ‘Cthol Murgos, Sadi. I hate the whole stinking country. Why couldn’t I have been born in Tolnedra—or maybe Sendaria? Why did I have to get stuck in Cthol Murgos?’

  ‘But you’re the king.’

  ‘That wasn’t by choice. One of our charming customs is that when a new king is crowned, all other possible contenders for the throne are put to death. For me, it was either the throne or the grave. I had a number of brothers when I became king, but now I’m an only child.’ He shuddered. ‘This is a gloomy subject, don’t you think? Why don’t we talk about something else? Just what are you doing in Cthol Murgos, Sadi? I thought you were Salmissra’s right hand.’

  Sadi coughed. ‘Her Majesty and I had a slight misunderstanding, so I thought it might be better for me to leave Nyissa for a while.’

  ‘Why Cthol Murgos? Why didn’t you go to Tol Honeth instead? It’s much more civilized and much, much more comfortable.’ He sighed again. ‘I’d give anything to be able to live in Tol Honeth.’

  ‘I’ve made some powerful enemies in Tolnedra, your Majesty,’ Sadi replied. ‘I know my way around Cthol Murgos, so I hired these Alorn mercenaries to protect me and came here posing as a slaver.’