Rivan Codex Series

by Eddings, David

  "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 took 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 really 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 patro! 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 a
rm. "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 aren'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 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 throneroom."

  "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?"

  "N-no," Sariss stammered in a squeaky voice.

  "I was sure you'd see it my way. This is what we're going to do. This lady and her young friend want to have a word with the queen, so you're going to take us to the throne room."

  "The queen?" Sariss gasped. "No one goes into her presence without permission. I-I can't do it."

  "This conversation has suddenly taken a definite turn for the worse." Issus looked over at Polgara. "Would you like to turn your head, Lady?" he asked politely. "The sight of a man with his brains oozing out of his ears makes some people queasy."

  "Please," Sariss begged him. "I can't. The queen will kill me if I take you into the throne room without being summoned."

  "And I'll kill you if you don't. Somehow, I've got the feeling that this isn't going to be one of your good days, Sariss. Now get on your feet." The assassin jerked the trembling fat man from his chair.

  They stepped out into the corridor with the eunuch leading the way. Sweat was streaming down his face, and there was a wild look in his eyes.

  "No blunders, Sariss," Issus warned. "Remember that I'm right behind you."

  The two burly guards at the entrance to the throne room bowed respectfully to the Chief Eunuch and swung the heavy doors open for him.

  Salmissra's throne room was unchanged. The enormous stone statue of Issa, the Serpent God, still loomed behind the dais at the far end of the room. The crystal lamps still glowed dimly on their silver chains, and the two dozen bald and crimson-robed eunuchs still knelt on the polished floor, ready to murmur in unison their phrases of adoration. Even the gold-framed mirror still stood on its pedestal at the side of the divan-like throne.

  Salmissra herself, however, was dreadfully changed. She was no longer the beautiful, sensuous woman Garion had seen when, drugged and bemused, he had first been led into her presence. She lay on her throne with her mottled coils undulating restlessly. Her polished scales gleamed in the lamplight, and her flat reptile's head rose on its long, thin neck, with the golden crown of the serpent queen resting lightly above her dead, incurious eyes.

  She glanced briefly at them as they entered, then turned back to regard her reflection in the mirror. "I do not recall having summoned you, Sariss," she said in a dry, dusty whisper.

  "The queen questions the Chief Eunuch," the two dozen shaven-headed men kneeling near the dais intoned in unison.

  "Forgive me, Eternal Salmissra," the eunuch pleaded, prostrating himself on the floor before the throne. "I was forced to bring these strangers into your presence. They threatened to kill me if I refused."

  "Then you should have died, Sariss," the serpent whispered. "You know that I do not like to be disturbed."

  "The queen is displeased," half of the kneeling eunuchs murmured.

  "Ah," the other half responded with a certain spiteful satisfaction.

  Salmissra swung her swaying head slightly to fix her eyes on Issus. "I seem to know you," she said.

  The one-eyed man bowed. "Issus, your Majesty," he replied. "The assassin."

  "I do not wish to be disturbed just now," the Serpent Queen told him in her emotionless whisper. "If that means that you're going to kill Sariss, please take him out into the corridor to do it."

  "We will not disturb you for long, Salmissra," Polgara said, pushing back the hood of her cloak.

  The snake's head turned slowly, her forked tongue tasting the air. "Ah, Polgara," she hissed without any evident surprise. "It has been some time since your last visit."

  "Several years," Polgara agreed.

  "I no longer take note of the years." Salmissra's dead gaze turned to Garion. "And Belgarion," she said. "I see that you're not a boy any more."

  "No," he replied, fighting down an involuntary shudder.

  "Come closer," she whispered. "Once you thought that I was beautiful and yearned for my kiss. Would you like to kiss me now?"

  Garion felt a strange compulsion to obey and found that he could not take his eyes from those of the Serpent Queen. Not even aware that he did it, he took a hesitant step toward the dais.

  "The fortunate one approaches the throne," the eunuchs murmured.

  "Garion!" Polgara said sharply.

  "I will not hurt him, Polgara. I never intended to hurt him."

  "I have a few questions for you, Salmissra," Polgara said coldly. "Once you answer them, we'll leave you to your entertainments."

  "What manner of questions, Polgara? What could I possibly know that your sorcery could not ferret out?"

  "You recently met a Mallorean named Naradas," Polgara said. "A man with colorless eyes."

  "Is that his name? Sariss never told me."

  "You made an arrangement with him."

  "Did I?"

  "At his request, you sent diplomats to Senda
ria. Among them was a foreigner named Zandramas. Your diplomats were instructed to give the foreigner every possible assistance in getting to Halberg on the west coast of Cherek. You also ordered a ship to the Isle of the Winds to bring Zandramas back to Nyissa."

  "I gave no such orders, Polgara. I have no interest in the affairs of Zandramas."

  "The name is familiar to you?"

  "Of course. I told you once that the priests of Angarak and the sorcerers of Aloria are not the only ones who can find a truth that lies hidden. I know of your desperate pursuit of the one who took Belgarion's son from the Citadel at Riva."

  "But you say that you were in no way involved in the arrangements?"

  "The one you call Naradas came to me with gifts," Salmissra whispered, "but said nothing more than that he wished my permission to trade here in Nyissa."

  "Then how do you explain this?" Aunt Pol took the parchment sheet Sadi had given her from under her cloak.

  Salmissra flicked her tongue at one of the kneeling eunuchs. "Bring it to me," she ordered.

  The eunuch leaped to his feet, took the parchment from Aunt Pol, and then knelt on the edge of the dais, holding the sheet open and extended toward his queen.

  "This is not the order I gave," Salmissra said flatly after the briefest of glances. "I ordered the diplomats to Sendaria—nothing more. Your copy is not accurate, Polgara."

  "Would the original be about anywhere?" Garion asked her.

  "Sariss should have it."

  Garion looked at the fat eunuch groveling on the floor. "Where is it?" he demanded.

  Sariss stared at him, then his gaze went in terror to the enthroned serpent.

  Garion considered several alternatives but discarded most of them in favor of simplicity. "Make him talk, Issus," he said shortly.

  The one-eyed man stepped over, straddled the trembling eunuch, and grasped his chin firmly from behind. Then he pulled up sharply until Sariss was arched backward. The saw-edged dagger made a steely grating sound as it came out of its sheath.

  "Wait!" Sariss begged in a choked voice. "It—it's in the drawer at the bottom of my wardrobe in my room."

  "Your methods are direct, assassin," the queen observed.

  "I'm a simple man, your Majesty," Issus replied. "I do not have the temperament for subtlety nor intricacy. I've found that directness saves time in the long run." He released the terrified Sariss and pushed his Ulgo dagger back into his sheath. He looked at Garion. "Do you want me to go get the parchment?" he asked.