The Malloreon: Book 05 - Seeress of Kell

by David Eddings

  When she awoke the next morning, she was as tired as she had been the previous evening. Every movement was an effort, and she kept yawning.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Garion asked her as they dressed. ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’

  ‘Not really,’ she replied. ‘I kept having the strangest dreams.’

  ‘Do you want to talk about them? Sometimes that’s the best way to put them to rest so they don’t keep coming back night after night.’

  ‘They didn’t make any sense, Garion. They just kept jumping around. It was almost as if someone were moving me from place to place for some reason of her own.’

  ‘Her? Was this someone a woman?’

  ‘Did I say “her”?’ I can’t imagine why. I never saw this person.’ Ce’Nedra yawned again. ‘I hope whoever it was got finished with it, though. I’d rather not go through another night like that.’ Then she gave him a sly, sidelong glance through her eyelashes. ‘There were some parts of the dream that were rather nice, though,’ she said. ‘Once, we were sitting by that pool back at Riva. Do you want to know what we were doing?’

  A slow blush crept up Garion’s neck. ‘Uh, no, Ce’Nedra. I don’t really think so.’

  But she told him anyway – in great detail – until he finally fled from the tent.

  Her restless night increased the peculiar lassitude which had lain on her since they had left Kell, and she rode that morning in a half-doze which, try though she might, she could not seem to shake off. Garion spoke with her several times to warn her that she was allowing her horse to stray, and then, apparently seeing that she just couldn’t keep her eyes open, he took her reins from her hands and led her horse.

  About midmorning, Beldin rejoined them. ‘I think you’d better take cover,’ he tersely told Belgarath. ‘There’s a Darshivan patrol coming along this trail.’

  ‘Are they searching for us?’

  ‘Who knows? If they are, they’re not being very serious about it. Go back into the woods for a couple hundred yards and let them ride on by. I’ll keep an eye on them and let you know when they’ve passed.’

  ‘All right.’ Belgarath turned aside from the trail and led the rest of them back into the concealment of the forest.

  They dismounted and waited tensely. Soon they heard the jingling of the soldiers’ equipment as they rode along the forest trail at a trot.

  Even in this potentially dangerous situation, Ce’Nedra simply could not keep her eyes open. Dimly, she could hear the whispered conversations of the others until she finally dozed off again.

  And then she came awake – or at least partially so. She was walking alone through the forest, her mind all bemused. She knew that she should be alarmed at being separated from the others, but oddly, she was not. She walked on, not so much going anywhere in particular as following some sort of subtle summoning.

  Then at last she reached a grassy clearing and saw a tall blond girl standing among the wildflowers and holding a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. The girl’s blond braids were coiled at her temples, and her complexion was like new milk. It was Brand’s niece, Arell. ‘Good morning, your Majesty,’ she greeted the Queen of Riva. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

  Something deep in Ce’Nedra’s mind tried to scream at her that this was wrong – that the tall Rivan girl could not possibly be here. But Ce’Nedra could not remember why, and the moment passed. ‘Good morning, Arell,’ she said to her dear friend. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to help you, Ce’Nedra. Look at what I’ve found.’ She turned back the corner of the blanket to reveal a tiny face.

  ‘My baby!’ Ce’Nedra exclaimed, almost overcome with joy. She ran forward, her arms extended hungrily, and took the sleeping infant from her friend and held him to her body, her cheek pressed against his soft curls. ‘How did you possibly find him?’ she asked Arell. ‘We’ve been looking for him for the longest time now.’

  ‘I was traveling alone through this forest,’ Arell replied, ‘and I thought I smelled the smoke of a campfire. I went to investigate and I found a tent set up beside a little stream. I looked inside the tent, and there was Prince Geran. There was no one else around, so I picked him up and came looking for you.’

  Ce’Nedra’s mind was still trying to scream at her, but she was too deliriously happy to pay any attention. She held her baby, rocking back and forth and crooning to him.

  ‘Where is King Belgarion?’ Arell asked.

  ‘Back there someplace.’ Ce’Nedra gestured vaguely.

  ‘You should go to him and let him know that his son is safe.’

  ‘Yes. He’ll be very happy.’

  ‘I have something that I really have to attend to, Ce’Nedra,’ Arell said. ‘Do you think you’d be able to find your way back alone?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure I could, but couldn’t you come along? His Majesty is sure to want to reward you for restoring our son to us.’

  Arell smiled. ‘The happiness on your face is all the reward I need, and this matter I must take care of is extremely important. I may be able to join you later, however. Which way will you be traveling?’

  ‘South, I think,’ Ce’Nedra replied. ‘We have to get to the sea coast.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. We’re going to an island – Perivor, I think the name is.’

  ‘There’s supposed to be a meeting of some kind very soon, isn’t there? Is Perivor the place where it’s going to happen?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Ce’Nedra laughed, still cuddling her baby. ‘We’re just going to Perivor to get some more information about it. We’ll be going on from there.’

  ‘I may not be able to join you at Perivor,’ Arell said, frowning slightly. ‘Perhaps you could tell me where the meeting’s supposed to take place. I’m sure I’ll be able to meet you there.’

  ‘Let me see,’ Ce’Nedra pondered. ‘What did they call it? Oh, now I remember. It’s some place that’s called Korim.’

  ‘Korim?’ Arell exclaimed in astonishment.

  ‘Yes. Belgarath seemed dreadfully upset when he first found out about it, but Cyradis told him that everything would be all right. That’s why we have to go to Perivor. Cyradis says that there’s something there that will make everything clear. It seems to me that she said something about a chart or something.’ She laughed a bit giddily. ‘To be honest with you, Arell, I’ve been so sleepy for the last few days that I can barely keep track of what the people around me are saying.’

  ‘Of course,’ Arell said absently, her face creased in thought. ‘Why would Perivor be the key?’ she mused to herself. ‘What could possibly be there to explain an absurdity? Are you absolutely certain the word was Korim? Perhaps you misunderstood.’

  ‘That was the way I heard it, Arell. I didn’t read it for myself, but Belgarath and Beldin kept talking about “the High Places of Korim, Which Are No More,” and isn’t the meeting supposed to be at the Place Which Is No More? I mean, it does sort of fit together, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Arell replied, frowning strangely. ‘Now that I think about it, it does.’ The she straightened, smoothing her gown. ‘I’ll have to leave you now, Ce’Nedra,’ she said. ‘Take your baby back to your husband. Give him my regards.’ Her eyes seemed to glint in the sunlight. ‘Give my best to Polgara as well,’ she added. There seemed to be something slightly malicious in the way she said it. She turned then and walked away, crossing the flowery meadow toward the dark edge of the forest.

  ‘Goodbye, Arell,’ Ce’Nedra called after her, ‘and thank you so much for finding my baby.’

  Arell neither turned nor answered.

  Garion was frantic. When he first discovered that his wife was missing, he leaped into his saddle and rode Chretienne off into the forest at a gallop. He had gone three hundred yards before Belgarath finally caught up with him. ‘Garion! Stop!’ the old man shouted.

  ‘But, Grandfather!’ Garion shouted back. ‘I’ve got to find Ce’Nedra!’

  ‘Where do you plan to st
art looking? Or are you just going to ride around in circles trusting to luck?’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Use your head, boy! We have another way that’s much faster. You know what she smells like, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course, but—’

  ‘Then we have to use our noses. Get down off that horse and send him back. We’ll change form and follow her trail. It’s faster and a great deal more certain.’

  Garion felt suddenly very foolish. ‘I wasn’t thinking, I guess,’ he confessed.

  ‘I didn’t think you were. Get rid of that horse.’

  Garion slid down and slapped Chretienne sharply on the rump. The big gray bolted back toward where the others were still concealed. ‘What on earth was she thinking of?’ Garion fumed.

  ‘I’m not sure if she was,’ Belgarath grunted. ‘She’s been acting strangely for the past few days. Let’s get on with this. The quicker we find her, the quicker we can get her back to the others. Your aunt can get to the bottom of this.’ The old man was already blurring into the shape of the huge silver wolf. ‘You lead,’ he growled at Garion. ‘Her scent is more familiar to you.’

  Garion changed and cast back and forth until his nose caught Ce’Nedra’s familiar fragrance. ‘She went this way,’ he cast his thought to Belgarath.

  ‘How fresh is the trail?’ the old wolf asked.

  ‘It can’t be much more than a half hour old,’ Garion replied, bunching himself to run.

  ‘Good. Let’s go find her.’ And the two of them ran smoothly through the woods, their noses to the ground in the manner of hunting wolves.

  They found her after about a quarter of an hour. She was coming happily back through the forest, crooning softly to a bundle she was carrying tenderly in her arms.

  ‘Don’t startle her,’ Belgarath warned. ‘There’s something very wrong here. Just go along with anything she tells you.’ The two of them shimmered and changed.

  Ce’Nedra gave a little cry of delight when she saw them. ‘Oh, Garion!’ she exclaimed, running toward them. ‘Look! Arell found our baby!’

  ‘Arell? But Arell’s—’

  ‘Just let it lie!’ Belgarath snapped under his breath. ‘Don’t send her into hysterics!’

  ‘Why – uh – that’s wonderful, Ce’Nedra,’ Garion said, trying to make it sound natural.

  ‘It’s been so long,’ Ce’Nedra said, her eyes brimming with tears, ‘and he looks just the same as he did before. Look, Garion. Isn’t he beautiful?’

  She turned back the blanket, and Garion saw that what she was holding so tenderly was not a baby, but a bundle of rags.

  Part Two

  PERIVOR

  CHAPTER NINE

  ETERNAL SALMISSRA HAD dispensed with the services of Adiss, her Chief Eunuch, that morning. Stunned into forgetfulness by a massive dose of one of his favorite drugs, Adiss had shambled into the throne room to make his daily report. When he had come to within a dozen feet of the dais, Salmissra had detected from his rank odor that he had disobeyed her command that he never enter her presence unbathed. Cold-eyed, she had watched the eunuch prostrate himself on the marble floor before the throne to deliver his report in a slurred voice. The report had never been finished. At a sibilant command from the Serpent Queen, a small green snake had emerged from beneath the divanlike throne, purring quietly, and Adiss had received a suitable reward for his disobedience.

  And now Eternal Salmissra coiled pensively on her throne, idly contemplating her reflection in the mirror. The troublesome business of selecting a new Chief Eunuch still lay before her, and she was not really in the mood for it. She decided finally to forgo the chore for a time to give the palace eunuchs the opportunity to scramble for the position. That scramble usually resulted in a number of fatalities, and there were really too many eunuchs in the palace anyway.

  From under the throne there was an irritated grumbling. Her pet green snake was obviously distressed about something. ‘What is it, Ezahh?’ she asked him.

  ‘Can’t you have them washed before you ask me to bite them, Salmissra?’ Ezahh replied plaintively. ‘You might have at least warned me what to expect.’ Although Ezahh and Salmissra were of different species, their languages were to some degree compatible.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ezahh. It was inconsiderate of me, I suppose.’ In rather sharp contrast to her dealings with humans, whom she held more or less in general contempt, the Serpent Queen was unfailingly polite to other reptiles – particularly the venomous ones. This is considered the course of wisdom in the world of snakes.

  ‘It was not entirely your fault, Salmissra.’ Ezahh was also a snake, and he was also very polite. ‘I just wish there was some way to get the taste out of my mouth.’

  ‘I could send for a saucer of milk. That might help.’

  ‘Thank you, Salmissra, but the taste of him might curdle it. What I’d really like is a nice fat mouse – alive, preferably.’

  ‘I’ll see to it at once, Ezahh.’ She turned her triangular face around on her slender neck. ‘You,’ she hissed to one of the chorus of eunuchs kneeling in adoration at one side of the throne, ‘go catch a mouse. My little green friend is hungry.’

  ‘At once, Divine Salmissra,’ the eunuch replied obsequiously. He jumped to his feet and backed toward the door, genuflecting at every other step.

  ‘Thank you, Salmissra,’ Ezahh purred. ‘Humans are such trivial things, aren’t they?’

  ‘They respond only to fear,’ she agreed, ‘and to lust.’

  ‘That raises a point,’ Ezahh noted. ‘Have you had time to consider the request I made the other day?’

  ‘I have some people looking,’ she assured him, ‘but your species is very rare, you know, and finding a female for you might take some time.’

  ‘I can wait, if necessary, Salmissra,’ he purred. ‘We are all very patient.’ He paused. ‘I’m not trying to be offensive, but if you hadn’t chased Sadi away, you wouldn’t have to take the trouble. His little snake and I were on very good terms.’

  ‘I noticed that on occasion. You might even be a father by now.’

  The green snake slid his head out from under the throne and regarded her. Like all snakes of his kind, he had a bright red stripe down his green back. ‘What’s a father?’ he asked in a dull, incurious tone.

  ‘It’s a difficult concept,’ she replied. ‘Humans make much of it for some reason.’

  ‘Does any real creature care about the perverse peculiarities of humans?’

  ‘I certainly don’t – at least not any more.’

  ‘You were always a serpent at heart, Salmissra.’

  ‘Why, thank you, Ezahh,’ she said in a pleased hiss. She paused, her restless coils rubbing drily against each other. ‘I must select a new Chief Eunuch,’ she mused. ‘It’s a bothersome thing.’

  ‘Why trouble yourself? Select one at random. Humans are all alike, after all.’

  ‘Most of them, yes. I’ve been attempting to locate Sadi, however. I’d like to persuade him to come back to Sthiss Tor.’

  ‘That one is different,’ Ezahh agreed. ‘One might almost believe that he is somewhat akin to us.’

  ‘He does have certain reptilian qualities, doesn’t he? He’s a thief and a scoundrel, but he still managed the palace better than anyone else has ever been able to. If I hadn’t been moulting when he fell into disgrace, I might have forgiven him.’

  ‘Shedding one’s skin is always a trying procedure,’ Ezahh agreed. ‘If you don’t mind a bit of advice, Salmissra, you should probably make the humans stay away from you at those times.’

  ‘I need a few of them around me. If nothing else, it gives me someone to bite.’

  ‘Stick to mice,’ he advised. ‘They taste better, and at least they can be swallowed.’

  ‘If I can persuade Sadi to return, it may just solve both our problems,’ she hissed drily. ‘I’ll have someone to run the palace without bothering me, and you’ll get your little playmate back.’

  ‘Interesting notion, Sa
lmissra.’ He looked around. ‘Is that human you sent out to fetch my mouse raising it from infancy?’ he asked.

  Yarblek and Vella slipped into Yar Nadrak late one snowy evening just before the gates were closed for the night. Vella had left her lavender satin gowns at Boktor and had reverted to her traditional tight leather garb. Because it was winter, she wore in addition a sable coat which would have cost a fortune in Tol Honeth. ‘Why does this place always smell so bad?’ she asked her owner as they rode through snow-clogged streets toward the river front.

  ‘Probably because Drosta let the contract for the sewer system out to one of his cousins,’ Yarblek shrugged, pulling the collar of his shabby felt coat up around his neck. ‘The citizens paid a great deal in taxes for the system, but Drosta’s cousin turned out to be a better embezzler than he was an engineer. I think it runs in the family. Drosta even embezzles from his own treasury.’

  ‘Isn’t that sort of absurd?’

  ‘We have an absurd sort of king, Vella.’

  ‘I thought the palace was over that way.’ She pointed toward the center of town.

  ‘Drosta won’t be in the palace at this time of night,’ Yarblek told her. ‘He gets lonesome when the sun goes down, and he usually goes out looking for companionship.’

  ‘He could be anywhere, then.’

  ‘I doubt it. There are only a few places in Yar Nadrak where he’s welcome after dark. Our king isn’t widely loved.’ Yarblek pointed up a littered alley. ‘Let’s go this way. We’ll stop by the office of our factor and get you some suitable clothing.’

  ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

  ‘Sable attracts attention in the part of town we’re going to visit, Vella, and we’re trying to be inconspicuous.’

  The office in Yar Nadrak of Silk and Yarblek’s far-flung commercial empire was in a loft over a cavernous warehouse filled with bales of furs and deep-piled Mallorean carpets. The factor was a squinty-eyed Nadrak named Zelmit, who was probably almost as untrustworthy as he looked. Vella had never really liked him and she customarily loosened her daggers in their sheaths whenever she came into his presence, making very sure that he saw her doing so to be certain that there would be no misunderstandings. Technically, of course, Vella was one of Yarblek’s possessions, and Zelmit had a reputation for making rather free with things which belonged to his employer.