Many of the speakers seemed quite smug about that.
When the eulogies had at last been completed, the white-robed High Priest of Nedra, a pudgy, sweating man with a grossly sensual mouth, arose and stepped to the front of the altar to add his own contribution. Drawing upon events in the life of Ran Borune, he delivered a lengthy homily on the advantages of having wealth and using it wisely. At first Garion was shocked by the High Priest's choice of subject matter, but the rapt faces of the throng in the temple told him that a sermon about money was very moving to a Tolnedran congregation and that the High Priest, by selecting such a topic, was able thereby to slip in any number of laudatory comments about Ce'Nedra's father.
Once all the tedious speeches were completed, the little Emperor was laid to rest beside his wife under a marble slab in the Borune section of the catacombs beneath the temple.
The so-called mourners then returned to the main temple hall to express their condolences to the bereaved family.
Ce'Nedra bore up well, though she was very pale. On one occasion she swayed slightly, and Garion, without thinking, reached out to support her.
"Don't touch me!" she whispered sharply under her breath, raising her chin sharply.
"What?" Garion was startled.
"We can not show any sign of weakness in the presence of our enemies. I will not break down for the entertainment of the Honeths or the Horbites or the Vordues. My father would rise from his grave in disgust if I did."
The nobles of all the great houses continued to file past to offer their extensive and obviously counterfeit sympathy to the sable-gowned little Rivan Queen. Garion found their half-concealed smirks contemptible and their barbed jibes disgusting. His face grew more stern and disapproving as the moments passed. His threatening presence soon dampened the enjoyment of the Grand Dukes and their ladies and sycophants. The Tolnedrans were genuinely afraid of this tall, mysterious Alorn monarch who had come out of nowhere to assume Riva's throne and to shake the very earth with his footsteps. Even as they approached Ce'Nedra to deliver their poisonous observations, his cold, grim face made them falter, and many carefully prepared impertinences went unsaid.
At last, disgusted so much that even his Sendarian good manners deserted him, he placed his hand firmly on his wife's elbow. "We will leave now"' he said to her in a voice which could be clearly heard by everyone in the vast temple. "The air in this place has turned a trifle rancid."
Ce'Nedra cast him one startled glance, then lifted her chin in her most regal and imperious manner, laid her hand lightly on his arm, and walked with him toward the huge bronze doors. The silence was vast as they moved with stately pace through the throng, and a wide path opened for them.
"That was very nicely done, dear," Ce'Nedra complimented him warmly as they rode in the gold-inlaid imperial carriage back toward the palace.
"It seemed appropriate," he replied. "I'd reached the point where I either had to say something rather pointed or turn the whole lot of them into toads."
"My, what an enchanting thought," she exclaimed. "We could go back, if you want."
When Varana arrived back at the palace an hour or so later, he was positively gloating. "Belgarion," he said with a broad grin, "you're a splendid young fellow, do you know that? With that one word you mortally offended virtually the entire nobility of northern Tolnedra."
"Which word was that?"
"Rancid."
"I'm sorry about that one."
"Don't be. It perfectly describes them."
"It is a bit coarse, though."
"Not under the circumstances. It did manage to make you any number of lifelong enemies, however."
"That's all I need," Garion replied sourly. "Give me just a few more years, and I'll have enemies in all parts of the world."
" A king isn't really doing his job if he doesn't make enemies, Belgarion. Any jackass can go through life without offending people."
"Thanks."
There had been some uncertainty about which course Varana would follow once Ran Borune was gone. His 'adoption', by the late Emperor had clearly been a ruse with very little in the way of legality to back it up. The candidates for the throne, blinded by their own lust for the Imperial Crown, had convinced themselves that he would merely serve as a kind of caretaker until the question of the succession had been settled in the usual fashion.
The issue remained in doubt until his official coronation, which took place two days after Ran Borune's funeral. The gloating exultation among the contenders for the throne was almost audible when the general limped into the Temple of Nedra dressed in his uniform, rather than the traditional gold mantle which only the Emperor was allowed to wear. Obviously this man did not intend to take his elevation seriously. It might cost a bit to bribe him, but the way to the Imperial Palace was still open. The grins were broad as Varana, gleaming in his gold-inlaid breastplate, approached the altar.
The pudgy High Priest bent forward for a moment of whispered consultation. Varana replied, and the ecclesiast's face suddenly went deathly pale. Trembling violently, he opened the gold and crystal cask on the altar and removed the jewel-encrusted Imperial Crown. Varana's short-cropped hair was anointed with the traditional ungent, and the High Priest raised the crown with shaking hands. "I crown thee," he declared in a voice almost squeaky with fright. " -I crown thee Emperor Ran Borune XXIV, Lord of all Tolnedra."
It took a moment for that to sink in. Then the temple was filled with howls of anguished protest as the Tolnedran nobility grasped the fact that by the choice of his imperial name, Varana was clearly announcing that he intended to keep the crown for himself. Those howls were cut off sharply as the Tolnedran legionnaires, who had quietly filed into place along the colonnade surrounding the main temple floor, drew their swords with a huge, steely rasp. The gleaming swords raised in salute.
"Hail Ran Borune!" the legions thundered. "Hail Emperor of Tolnedra!" And that was that.
That evening as Garion, Ce'Nedra, and the newly crowned Emperor sat together in a crimson-draped private chamber filled with the golden glow of dozens of candles, Varana exclaimed. "Surprise is as important in politics as it is in military tactics, Belgarion. If your opponent doesn't know what you're going to do, there's no way he can prepare countermeasures." The general now openly wore the gold mantle of the Emperor.
"That makes sense," Garion replied, sipping at a goblet of Tolnedran wine. "Wearing your breastplate instead of the Imperial Mantle kept them guessing right up until the last minute."
"That was for a much more practical reason." Varana laughed. "Many of those young nobles have had military training, and we teach our legionnaires how to throw daggers. Since my back was going to be toward them, I wanted a good, solid layer of steel covering the area between my shoulder blades."
"Tolnedran politics are very nervous, aren't they?"
Varana nodded his agreement. "Fun, though," he added.
"You have a peculiar notion of fun. I've had a few daggers thrown at me and I didn't find it all that amusing."
"We Anadiles have always had a peculiar sense of humor."
"Borune, uncle," Ce'Nedra corrected primly.
"What was that, dear?"
"You're a Borune now, not an Anadile -and you should start acting like one."
"Bad-tempered, you mean? That's not really in my nature."
"Ce'Nedra could give you lessons, if you like," Garion offered, grinning fondly at his wife.
"What?" Ce'Nedra exclaimed indignantly, her voice going up an octave or so.
"I suppose she could at that," Varana agreed blandly. "She's always been very good at it."
Ce'Nedra sighed mournfully, eyeing the pair of grinning monarchs. Then her expression became artfully tragic. "What's a poor little girl to do?" she asked in a trembling voice. "Here I am, maltreated and abused by both my husband and my brother."
Varana blinked. "You know, I hadn't even thought of that. You are my sister now, aren't you?"
"Perhaps you a
ren't quite as clever as I thought, brother dear," she purred at him. "I know that Garion's not quite bright, but I thought better of you."
Garion and Varana exchanged rueful glances.
"Would you gentlemen like to play some more?" Ce'Nedra asked them, her eyes twinkling and a smug smile hovering about her lips.
There was a light tap on the door.
"Yes?" Varana said.
"Lord Morin to see you, your Majesty"' the guard outside the door announced.
"Send him in, please."
The Imperial Chamberlain entered quietly. His face was marked by the sorrow he felt at the passing of the man he had served so long and faithfully, but he still performed his duties with the quiet efficiency that had always been his outstanding characteristic.
"Yes, Morin?" Varana said.
"There's someone waiting outside, your Majesty. She's rather notorious, so I thought I should speak to you privately before I presented her to you."
"Notorious?"
"It's the courtesan Bethra, your Majesty." Morin said with a faintly embarrassed look at Ce'Nedra. "She's been -ah- shall we say, useful to the crown in the past. She has access to a great deal of information as a result of her professional activities and she was a longtime friend of Ran Borune's. From time to time she kept him advised of the activities of certain unfriendly nobles. He made arrangements for there to be a way by which she could enter the palace unnoticed so that they could -ah- talk, among other things."
"Why, that sly old fox."
"I have never known her information to be inaccurate, your Majesty." Morin continued. "She says she has something very important to tell you."
"You'd better bring her in, then, Morin," Varana said, "With you permission, of course, dear sister," he added to Ce'Nedra.
"Certainly," Ce'Nedra agreed, her eyes afire with curiosity.
When Morin brought the woman in, she was wearing a light, hooded cloak, but when, with one smooth, round arm, she reached up and pushed the hood back, Garion started slightly. He knew her. He recalled that when he and Aunt Pol and the others had been passing through Tol Honeth during their pursuit of Zedar the Apostate and the stolen Orb, this same woman had accosted Silk for a bantering exchange.
As she unfastened the neck of her cloak and let it slide almost sensuously from her creamy shoulders, he saw that she had not changed in the nearly ten years since he had last seen her. Her lustrous, blue-black hair was untouched by any hint of gray. Her startlingly beautiful face was still as smooth as a girl's, and her heavy-lidded eyes were still filled with a sultry wickedness. Her gown was of palest lavender and cut in such a way as to enhance rather than conceal the lush, almost overripe body it enclosed. It was the kind of body that was a direct challenge to every man she met. Garion stared openly at her until he caught Ce'Nedra's green eyes, agate-hard, boring into him, and he quickly looked away.
"Your Majesty," Bethra said in a throaty contralto as she curtsied gracefully to the new Emperor, "I would have waited a time before introducing myself, but I've heard a few things I thought you should know immediately."
"I appreciate your friendship, Lady Bethra," Varana replied with exquisite courtesy.
She laughed a warm, wicked laugh. "I'm not a lady, your Majesty," she corrected him. "Most definitely not a lady." She made a small curtsy to Ce'Nedra. "Princess," she murmured.
"Madame," Ce'Nedra responded with a faint chill in her voice and a very slight inclination of her head.
"Ah," Bethra said almost sadly. Then she turned back to Varana. "Late this afternoon I was entertaining Count Ergon and the Baron Kelbor at my establishment."
"A pair of powerful Honethite nobles," Varana explained to Garion.
"The gentlemen from the house of Honeth are less than pleased with your Majesty's choice of an official name," Bethra continued. "They spoke hastily and in some heat, but I think that you might want to take what they said seriously. Ergon is an unmitigated ass, all bluster and pomposity, but Baron Kelbor is not the sort to be taken lightly. At any rate, they concluded that, with the legions all around the palace, it would be unlikely that an assassin could reach you; but then Kelbor said, 'If you want to kill a snake, you cut off its tail -just behind the head. We can't reach Varana, but we can reach his son. Without an heir, Varana's line dies with him."
"My son?" Varana said sharply.
"His life is in danger, your Majesty. I thought you should know."
"Thank you, Bethra," Varana replied gravely. Then he turned to Morin. "Send a detachment of the third legion to my son's house," he said. "No one is to go in or out until I've had time to make other arrangements."
"At once, your Majesty."
"I would also like to speak with the two gentlemen from the House of Honeth. Send some troops to invite them to the palace. Have them wait in that little room adjoining the torture chamber down in the dungeons until I have the time to discuss this with them."
"You wouldn't," Ce'Nedra gasped.
"Probably not," Varana admitted, "but they don't have to know that, do they? Let's give them a nervous hour or two."
"I'll see to it immediately, your Majesty"' Morin said. He bowed and quietly left the room.
"I'm told that you knew my father," Ce'Nedra said to the lushly curved woman standing in the center of the room.
"Yes, Princess," Bethra responded. "Quite well, actually. We were friends for years."
Ce'Nedra's eyes narrowed.
"Your father was a vigorous man, Princess," Bethra told her calmly. "I'm told that many people prefer not to believe that kind of thing about their parents, but it does happen now and again. I was quite fond of him and I'll miss him very much, I think."
"I don't believe you," Ce'Nedra said bluntly.
"That's up to you, of course."
"My father would not have done that."
"Whatever you say, Princess," Bethra said with a faint smile.
"You're lying!" Ce'Nedra snapped.
A momentary glint came into Bethra's eyes. "No, Princess. I don't lie. I might conceal the truth at times, but I never lie. Lies are too easily found out. Ran Borune and I were intimate friends and we enjoyed each other's company in many ways." Her look became faintly amused. "Your upbringing has sheltered you from certain facts, Princess Ce'Nedra. Tol Honeth is an extremely corrupt city, and I am fully at home here. Let's face a certain blunt truth. I'm a harlot and I make no apology for that fact. The work is easy -even pleasant at times- and the pay is very good. I'm on the best of terms with some of the richest and most powerful men in the world. We talk, and they value my conversation, but when they come to my house, it's not the talk they're interested in. The talk comes later. It was much the same when I visited your father. We did talk, Princess, but it was usually later."
Ce'Nedra's face was flaming, and her eyes were wide with shock. "No one has ever talked to me that way before," she gasped.
"Then it was probably overdue," Bethra said calmly. "You're much wiser now -not happier, perhaps, but wiser. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should probably leave. The Honeths have spies everywhere, and I think it might not be a good idea for them to find out about this visit."
"I want to thank you for the information you've just brought me, Bethra," Varana said to her. "Let me give you something for your trouble."
"That has never been necessary, your Majesty," she replied with an arch little smile. "Information is not what I sell. I'll go now -unless you want to talk business, of course." She paused in the act of putting her cloak back on and gave him a very direct look.
"Ah -this might not be the best time, Bethra," Varana said with a faintly regretful note in his voice and a quick sidelong glance at Ce'Nedra.
"Some other time then, perhaps." She curtsied again and quietly left the room, the musky fragrance of the scent she wore lingering in the air behind her.
Ce'Nedra was still blushing furiously, and her eyes were outraged. She spun to face Garion and Varana. "Don't either of you dare say anything," she commanded.
"Not one single word."
The sad visit to Tol Honeth ended a few days later, and Garion and Ce'Nedra took ship again for the voyage back to the Isle of the Winds. Though Ce'Nedra seldom gave any outward hints of her grief, Garion knew her well enough to understand that her father's death had hurt her deeply. Because he loved her and was sensitive to her emotions, he treated her with a certain extra tenderness and consideration for the next several months.
In mid-autumn that year, the Alorn Kings and Queen Porenn, Regent of Drasnia, arrived at Riva for the traditional meeting of the Alorn Council. The meeting had none of the urgency which had marked those meetings previously. Torak was dead, the Angaraks were convulsed by war, and a king sat upon the Rivan throne. The entire affair was almost purely social, though the kings did make some pretense at holding business sessions in the blue-draped council chamber high in the south tower of the Citadel. They gravely talked about the stalemated war in southern Cthol Murgos and about the troubles Varana was having with the Vordue family of northern Tolnedra.
Warned perhaps by the failure of the Honeths in their attempts at assassination, the Vordues decided to try secession. Shortly after Varana's coronation as Ran Borune XXIV, the Vordue family declared that their Grand Duchy was no longer a part of Tolnedra but rather was a separate, independent kingdom -although they had not yet decided which of their number was to ascend the throne.
"Varana's going to have to move the legions against them," King Anheg declared, wiping the ale foam from his mouth with his sleeve. "Otherwise, the other families will secede too, and Tolnedra will fly apart like a broken spring."
"It's not really that simple, Anheg," Queen Porenn told him smoothly, turning back from the window out of which she had been watching the activity in the harbor far below. The Queen of Drasnia still wore deep mourning, and her black gown seemed to enhance her blonde loveliness. "The legions will gladly fight any foreign enemy, but Varana can't ask them to attack their own people."
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