Rivan Codex Series

by Eddings, David

  "Buying or selling?"

  "A bit of each. The present turmoil offers certain opportunities."

  "I'm sure it does. You are here for gain, then?"

  "A reasonable profit is all, Revered Jaharb."

  The Elder's expression did not change, but his eyes bored into the face of the suddenly sweating eunuch. "You seem uncomfortable, Ussa," the dusty voice crooned softly. "Why is that?"

  "The heat, Revered Jaharb," Sadi said nervously. "Your desert is very hot."

  "Perhaps." The smoky eyes continued their unrelenting gaze. "Is it your purpose to enter the lands controlled by the Malloreans?"

  "Why, yes," Sadi replied, "as a matter of fact it is. I am told that many slaves took advantage of the chaos that accompanied the Mallorean invasions to hide themselves in the Forest of Gorut. They are free for the taking, and the fields and vineyards of Hagga and Cthan lie untended for lack of slaves to work them. There is profit in such a situation."

  "You will have little time for pursuing runaway slaves, Ussa. You must be in Rak Hagga before two months have passed."

  "But—"

  Jaharb held up one hand. "You will proceed from this place to Rak Urga, where you are expected. A new servant will join you there. His name is Kabach, and you will find him in the Temple of Torak under the protection of Agachak, the Grolim Hierarch of that place. Agachak and King Urgit will place you and your servants on board a ship which will lake you around the southern end of the Urga peninsula to Rak Cthaka. From there you will go directly overland to Rak Hagga. Do you understand all that I have said?"

  "Most certainly, Revered Jaharb—and what is it that you want me to do in Rak Hagga?"

  "When you reach Rak Hagga, Kabach will leave you, and your task will be complete. Your entire service to me consists of concealing him within your party as you journey to Rak Hagga—a small thing, but your reward will be great."

  "The ship will certainly save me months of difficult travel on horseback, Revered Elder, but will I not have difficulty explaining my presence to the Malloreans if I have no slaves to sell in the mart at Rak Hagga?"

  "You will buy slaves in Cthaka or Gorut. The Malloreans will have no reason to question you."

  "Forgive me, Revered Elder," Sadi said with a slightly embarrassed cough, "but my purse is slender. That's why my plan was to capture runaway slaves. They cost no more than the effort of running them down."

  Jaharb did not reply, and his probing eyes remained fiat and emotionless. He turned his gaze to Tajak. "Open that chest at the end," he said.

  Tajak moved quickly to obey. When he lifted the lid of the chest, Garion heard Ce'Nedra gasp involuntarily. The chest was filled to its very brim with bright red gold coins.

  "Take what you need, Ussa," Jaharb said indifferently. Then a faintly amused look flickered in his smoldering eyes. "But no more than you can hold in both your hands."

  Sadi gaped at the gold-filled chest, his eyes filled with greed and his face and shaven scalp sweating profusely. He looked at the red gold, then down at his own two rather delicately shaped hands. A sudden look of undisguised cunning came over his face. "Gold is heavy, most Revered Jaharb, and my hands are quite weak as a result of a recent illness. Might I have one of my servants gather up your most generous payment?"

  "That's not an unreasonable request, Ussa," Jaharb replied, his eyes openly amused now. "But mind, no more than he can hold in his two hands."

  "Naturally," Sadi said. "I certainly wouldn't want you to overpay me." He turned. "You there," he said to Toth, "go to that chest and remove a double handful of coins—and be certain that you take no more."

  Impassively Toth went to the chest and scooped out perhaps a half pailful of the gleaming red coins in his huge hands.

  Jaharb regarded the nervously sweating eunuch for a long moment, his wrinkled face expressionless. Then quite suddenly he threw back his head and laughed a dusty laugh. "Excellent, Ussa," he crooned softly. "Your mind is agile. I like that quality in those who serve me. It may be that you will even live long enough to spend some of the gold you have just so cleverly obtained."

  "It was merely a demonstration of my intelligence, Revered Jaharb," Sadi answered quickly, "to prove to you that you made no mistake in selecting me. I'll have him put the coins back if you wish—some of them, anyway."

  "No, Ussa. Keep them all. You will earn every one of them by the time you reach Rak Hagga, I think."

  "I am much honored to be of service to the Dagashi. Even if it were not for your open-handed generosity, I would be no poorer for having befriended you." He hesitated, glancing quickly at Belgarath. "I have been told, Revered Elder, that the Dagashi know many things."

  "Few secrets are hidden from us in this part of the world."

  "Might I be so bold as to ask a question? A small thing, but one of some interest to me?"

  "You may ask, Ussa. I will decide whether or not to answer after I hear the question."

  "I have an extremely wealthy customer in Tol Honeth, Revered Jaharb," Sadi said. "He has an absolute passion for rare books and he would pay me a fortune for a copy of the Grolim Prophecies of Rak Cthol. Do you possibly know where I might find such a book?"

  Jaharb frowned slightly, rubbing at his wrinkled cheek. "The Dagashi have little interest in books," he said. "The volume you seek would certainly have been in the library of Ctuchik at Rak Cthol, but I'm sure it was lost when Belgarath the Sorcerer destroyed the city." He thought a moment longer. "You might ask Agachak when you get to Rak Urga, however. The Temple library there is most extensive; since the prophecies deal with religion, Agachak is certain to have a copy—if one still exists."

  "I am profoundly grateful for the information, Revered Elder," Sadi said, bowing again.

  Jaharb straightened. "And now you and your servants will need to rest. You depart for Rak Urga at first light tomorrow morning. A room has been prepared for you." He turned back to his bowl of grapes.

  The room to which they were taken was quite large. The stone walls had been whitewashed to enhance the dim light which lay over the city of the assassins, but the furnishings were rudimentary at best, consisting only of a low stone table and heaps of cushions.

  As soon as the black-robed Tajak left them alone, Garion pulled off his green slaver's robe. "Grandfather," he said, "what are we going to do? We can't go to Rak Urga. If we're ever going to catch Zandramas, we're going to have to get to Verkat as soon as we can."

  The old man sprawled in a pile of cushions. "Actually, Garion, things couldn't have worked out better for us. Once we have the ship that Agachak and Urgit have waiting for us, we can sail directly on to Verkat. That's going to save us months of difficult travel."

  "But won't the Dagashi—this Kabach who's waiting at Rak Urga—object if we don't land where Jaharb said we were going to?"

  Sadi unlatched his leather case. "Set your mind at ease, Belgarion." He took out a small vial containing a thick blue liquid and held it up. "Two drops of this in his food and he'll be so happy that he won't care where we're going."

  "You're a very versatile fellow, Sadi," Belgarath said. "How did you know that I was looking for the Prophecies of the Western Grolims?"

  Sadi shrugged. "It wasn't hard to deduce, Ancient One. A part of the arrangement between Sariss and Naradas involved the burning of the only copy of that book in the palace library at Sthiss Tor. If Zandramas wanted it destroyed, it was fairly obvious that she didn't want you to get your hands on it."

  "I'm starting to revise my opinion of you, Sadi. I still don't entirely trust you, but you certainly can be useful when you set your mind to it."

  "Why, thank you, Ancient Belgarath." The eunuch took out the small earthenware bottle.

  "Are you going to feed that snake?" Silk asked.

  "She does get hungry, Kheldar."

  "I'll wait outside, then."

  "Tell me, Prince Kheldar," Velvet said curiously, "what is the source of this peculiar aversion of yours toward reptiles?"

 
"Most normal people don't like snakes."

  "Oh, they aren't that bad."

  "Are you trying to be funny?"

  She opened her brown eyes very wide in an expression of exaggerated innocence. "Would I do that?"

  He went out into the hallway muttering to himself.

  Velvet laughed and then went over to join Ce'Nedra on the pile of cushions near the window. Garion had noticed that the two of them had grown quite close during the weeks since they had left Tol Honeth. Because Polgara had always seemed so totally self-sufficient, he had not fully realized the deep-seated need that most women had for the companionship of other women. As Sadi fed his little green snake, the two of them sat side by side on the cushions and brushed the dust of their journey out of their hair.

  "Why do you tease him so much, Liselle?" Ce'Nedra asked, pulling her brush through her flaming locks.

  "I'm getting even with him," Velvet replied with an impish smile. "When I was a little girl, he used to tease me outrageously. Now it's my turn."

  "You always seem to know just exactly what to say to offend him the most."

  "I know him very well, Ce'Nedra. I've been watching him for years now. I know every single one of his weaknesses and I know exactly where he's the most sensitive." The blond girl's eyes grew soft. "He's a legend in Drasnia, you know. At the Academy, whole seminars are devoted to his exploits. We all try to emulate him, but none of us has his outrageous flair."

  Ce'Nedra stopped brushing and gave her friend a long, speculative look.

  "Yes?" Velvet said, returning the look.

  "Oh, nothing," Ce'Nedra said and went back to brushing her hair.

  The desert night was surprisingly chill. The air was so totally devoid of moisture that each day's heat evaporated almost as soon as the sun went down. As they set out from Kahsha in the steely dawn light, Garion found that he was actually shivering. By midmorning, however, the burning sun had once again turned the barren waste of Araga into an inferno. It was nearly noon by the time they reached the foothills along the western rim of the desert and began the climb that took them up out of that hideous furnace.

  "How long until we get to Rak Urga, good Master?" Sadi asked Tajak, who once again escorted them.

  "A week or so."

  "Distances are very great in this part of Cthol Murgos, aren't they?"

  "It's a very large country."

  "And very empty."

  "Only if you don't look around you."

  Sadi looked at him inquiringly.

  "Along that ridge, for example." Tajak pointed toward the ragged stretch of rock outlined against the western sky where a single black-robed Murgo sat astride his horse, watching them.

  "How long has he been there?" Sadi asked.

  "For the past hour. Don't you ever look up?"

  "In Nyissa, we always watch the ground. Snakes, you know."

  "That explains it, I suppose."

  "What's he doing up there?"

  "Watching us. King Urgit likes to keep track of strangers."

  "Is he likely to cause trouble?"

  "We are Dagashi, Nyissan. Other Murgos do not cause us trouble."

  "It's a great comfort to have so formidable an escort, good Tajak."

  The country through which they rode for the next week was rocky and only sparsely vegetated. Garion had some difficulty adjusting to the notion that it was late summer here in the southern latitudes. The turn of the seasons had always been so immutable that emotionally and perhaps in his very blood, he found that he could not actually accept the idea that they were reversed here at the bottom of the world.

  At a certain point in their journey southward, he felt the well-covered Orb on the pommel of the sword that rode across his back tug strongly off toward the left. He nudged his horse up beside Belgarath's. "Zandramas turned east here," he reported quietly.

  The old man nodded.

  "I hate to lose the trail," Garion said. "If Sadi's wrong about where she's going, it could take months to find it again."

  "We wasted a lot of time on the Bear-cult, Garion," the old man replied. "We have to make that up, and that means taking a few gambles."

  "I suppose you're right, Grandfather, but I still don't like it."

  "I don't much either, but I don't think we have any choice, do we?"

  A series of squalls blew in off the Great Western Sea as they proceeded down the rocky spine of the Urga peninsula, an indication that autumn was rapidly approaching. Although the squalls were blustery, they carried only fitful spates of rain, and the journey continued without interruption. They more frequently saw mounted Murgo patrols now, ranging along the ridge tops and outlined against the dirty gray sky. The Murgos, however, prudently gave the Dagashi a wide berth.

  And then, about noon on a windy day when heavy clouds rolled in off the vast ocean, they topped a hill and looked down at a large body of water embraced by steep rock cliffs.

  "The Gulf of Urga," Tajak said tersely, pointing at that leaden sea.

  A peninsula jutted out from the far shore, sheltering the entrance to the gulf with a rocky headland. Embraced by the curve of that headland was a harbor dotted with black-hulled ships, and rising from that harbor was a fair-sized town.

  "Is that it?" Sadi asked.

  Tajak nodded. "Rak Urga," he said.

  A ferry awaited them on the narrow beach, bobbing in the sullen waves rolling in from the open sea. It was a large, wide-beamed barge manned by two score wretched-looking slaves under the watchful eye of a Murgo boatman armed with a long whip. Tajak and his men led the way down to the gravel strand, then turned without a word and rode back up the trail.

  The channel running from the Great Western Sea into the Gulf of Urga was not wide, and Garion could clearly make out the low stone buildings of Rak Urga squatting under a murky sky on the far side. Sadi spoke briefly with the Murgo, a few coins changed hands, and then they led their horses aboard. The Murgo barked a short command to his slaves, cracking his whip over their heads by way of emphasis. Desperately, the slaves pushed the barge off the gravel beach with their oars, casting fearful glances at their cruel-faced master and his whip. Once they were clear of the beach, they quickly took their places and began to row, pulling hard for the city across the narrow channel. The Murgo paced up and down the length of the barge, his face alert, and his eyes intently on his slaves, watching for any hint of flagging effort. Once, when they were about halfway across, he partially raised his whip, apparently for no other reason than out of a desire to use it.

  "Excuse me, noble ferryman," Silk said, stepping in front of him, "but did you know that your boat is leaking?"

  "Leaking?" the Murgo replied sharply, lowering his whip.

  "Where?"

  "I can't really be sure, but there's quite a bit of water down in the bottom."

  The Murgo called to his steersman in the stern and then quickly raised a wooden grating so that the two of them could peer down into the shallow bottom of his boat. "That's bilge water," he said in disgust, motioning his steersman back to his post. "Don't you know anything about boats?"

  "Not much," Silk admitted. "I saw the water and thought you ought to know about it. Sorry to have bothered you." He walked forward to rejoin the others.

  "What was that all about?" Belgarath asked.

  "Durnik's face was getting a bit bleak." Silk shrugged. "I didn't want his passion for justice to get the better of him."

  Belgarath looked at the smith.

  "I'm not going to stand around idly, if he starts flogging those poor men," Durnik declared, his face stiff. "The minute he raises that whip, he's going to find himself swimming."

  "You see what I mean?" Silk said.

  Belgarath looked as if he were about to say something, but Polgara stepped in front of him. "Leave him alone, father," she said. "It's the way he is, and I wouldn't change him for the world."

  The harbor of Rak Urga was even more congested with ships than it had appeared to be from the other side. The steersman
of the barge picked his way carefully through all those anchored vessels toward the stone quays jutting out into the lead-gray chop of the channel. A dozen or more of the wide-beamed Murgo ships were moored to the quays, bumping against woven rope fenders as gangs of slaves unloaded them.

  The barge drew in close to the sheltered side of one of the quays, and the horses were carefully led up a slanting stone ramp, made slippery by clinging seaweed. Ce'Nedra looked down at the garbage-strewn water sloshing below and sniffed disdainfully. "Why do seaports always look—and smell— the same?" she murmured.

  "Probably because the people who live in them find all that water irresistible," Velvet replied.

  Ce'Nedra looked puzzled.

  "It's just too convenient," the Drasnian girl explained. "They always seem to forget that the garbage they throw into the harbor this morning will come back to haunt them with the afternoon tide."

  When they reached the top of the ramp, a self-important Murgo stood waiting for them, his heavy black robe flapping in the stiff breeze. "You there," he said arrogantly. "State your business."

  Sadi stepped forward and gave the Murgo an oily bow. "I am Ussa," he replied, "registered slave trader from Sthiss Tor. I have all the necessary documents."

  "There's no slave market in Rak Urga," the Murgo declared suspiciously. "Hand over your documents."

  "Of course." Sadi dipped his hand inside his green robe and brought out a packet of folded parchment.

  "If you're not dealing in slaves, what are you doing here?" the Murgo demanded, taking the packet from him.

  "I'm merely doing a favor for my good friend Jaharb, Chief Elder of the Dagashi," Sadi told him.

  The Murgo paused in the very act of opening the packet. "Jaharb?" he said a bit apprehensively.

  Sadi nodded. "Since I was passing this way anyhow, he asked me to stop by and deliver a message to Agachak, the Hierarch of Rak Urga."

  The Murgo swallowed hard and thrust the documents back into Sadi's hands as if they had suddenly grown hot. "On your way, then," he said shortly.

  "My thanks, noble sir," Sadi said with another bow. "Excuse me, but could you direct me to the Temple of Torak? This is my first visit to Rak Urga."