Rivan Codex Series

by Eddings, David

  "I don't quite follow you."

  "I suggested to him once that he take Nathel instead of me when he went after the Sardion. Now he's saddled himself with that cretin. I'd give a great deal to listen to some of their conversations. If he happens to succeed, he'll make Nathel Over-king of Angarak, and Nathel can't even tie his own shoes."

  "You don't actually think Agachak will succeed, do you?"

  Queen Praia said, a slight frown creasing her flawless brow. Queen Praia was several months gone with child, and she'd taken flHvorrying about things lately.

  "Win?" Urgit snorted. "He hasn't got a chance. He has to get past Belgarion first—not to mention Belgarath and Polgara. They'll incinerate him." He smiled sardonically. "It's so nice to have powerful friends." He stopped, frowning slightly. "We really ought to warn Belgarion, though—and Kheldar," he added. He sprawled down into his cushions again. “The last we heard, Belgarion and his friends had left Rak Hagga with Kal Zakath. Our best guess was that they were going to Mal Zeth, either as guests or as prisoners.” He pulled at his long, pointed nose. "I know Belgarion well enough to know that he's not the sort to stay a prisoner for very long, though. Zakath probably knows where he is, however. Oskatat, is there any way we can get a Dagashi to Mal Zeth?"

  “We could try, Urgit, but our chances of success wouldn't be too good, and a Dagashi might have some difficulty getting in to see the Emperor, Zakath's got a civil war on his hands, so he's likely to be a bit preoccupied."

  "That's true, isn't it?" Urgit tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne. "He's still keeping abreast of what's happening here in Cthol Murgos, though, wouldn't you say?"

  "Undoubtedly."

  “Why not let him be our messenger to Belgarion then?”

  "You're moving a little fast for me, Urgit," Oskatat confessed.

  "What's the nearest town occupied by the Malloreans?"

  "They still have a reduced garrison at Rak Cthaka. We could overwhelm them in a few hours, but we haven't wanted to give Zakath any reason to return to Cthol Murgos in force."

  Urgit shuddered. "I'm very strongly inclined toward that line of thinking myself," he admitted, "but I owe Belgarion several favors, and I want to protect my brother as much as I can. I'll tell you what you do, Oskatat. Take about three army corps and run on down to Rak Cthaka. Malloreans out in the countryside will run off to Rak Hagga to pass the word on to Kal Zakath that we're beginning to attack his cities. That should get his attention. Mill around outside the city for a while, then surround the place. Ask for a parlay with the garrison commander. Explain the situation to him. I'll compose a letter to Kal Zakath pointing out a certain community of interest in this affair. I'm sure he doesn't want Agachak in Mallorea any more than I want the old magician here in Cthol Murgos. I'll suggest in the strongest terms that he pass the word on to Belgarion. The word he'll have already received about our hostile actions will guarantee that he'll at least look at my letter. He'll get in touch with Belgarion, and then we can both sit back and watch the Godslayer solve our problem for us." He grinned suddenly. "Who knows? This might even be the first step toward a reconciliation between his Imperial Implacableness and me. I really think it's time for An-garaks to stop killing each other."

  “Can't you squeeze any more speed out of her?” King Anheg demanded of Captain Greldik.

  "Of course, Anheg," Greldik growled. "I could crowd on more sail, and we'll be as swift as an arrow—for about five minutes. Then the masts will break, and we'll go back to rowing. Which shift should I put you down for?"

  "Greldik, have you ever heard the term 'l£se-majest£'?"

  "You’ve mentioned it frequently, Anheg, but you should take a look at maritime law sometime. When we're on board this ship and at sea, I have even more absolute authority than you've got in Val Alorn. If I tell you to row, you'll row—or swim."

  Anheg walked away, muttering curses under his breath.

  "Any luck?" Emperor Varana asked as the Alorn king approached the bow.

  "He told me to mind my own business," Anheg grunted. "Then he offered to let me man an oar if I was in such a hurry."

  "Have you ever manned an oar before? "

  "Once. Chereks are a seagoing people, and my father thought it would be educational for me to make a voyage as a deckhand. I didn't mind the rowing so much. It was the flogging that irritated me.”

  "They actually flogged the crown prince?" Varana asked incredulously.

  "It's very hard to see an oarsman's lace when you're coming up behind him.” Anheg shrugged. “The oarsmaster was trying to get more speed out of us. We were pursuing a Tolnedran merchantman at the time, and we didn't want her to reach the safety of Tblnedran territorial waters."

  "Anheg!" Varana exclaimed.

  "That was years ago, Varana. I've given orders now that Tblnedran vessels are not to be molested—at least not in the sight of witnesses. The whole point of this is that Greldik's

  probably right. If he puts on all sail, the wind will uproot his masts, and you and I'll both wind up rowing."

  "We don't have much chance of catching up with Barak, then, do we?"

  "I'm not so sure. Barak's not nearly as good a sailor as Greldik is, and that oversized tub of his isn't very responsive to the helm. We're gaining on him every day. When he gets to Mal-lorea, he's going to have to stop in every port to ask questions. Most Malloreans wouldn't recognize Garion if he walked up and spat in their eyes. Kheldar's another matter, though. I understand that the little thief has branch offices in most of the cities and towns in Mallorea. I know how Barak thinks. As soon as he gets to Mallorea, he's going to go looking for Silk, since Silk and Garion are obviously going to be together. I don't have to ask about Silk, though. All I've got to do is describe the Seabird to waterfront loafers in just a few towns. For the price of a few tankards of ale, I'll be able to follow Barak wherever he goes. Hopefully we'll catch up with him before he finds Garion and ruins everything. I just wish that blind girl hadn't told him he couldn't go along. The fastest way I know of to get Barak to do something is to forbid him to do it. If he was with Garion, at least Belgarath would be there to keep him under control."

  "How do you propose to stop him even if we do catch up with him? His ship may be slower than this one, but it's also bigger, and it carries more men."

  "Greldik and I have worked that out," Anheg replied. "Greldik's got a special piece of equipment in his forward hold. It bolts to the bow of this ship. If Barak refuses to come about when I order him to, Greldik's going to ram him. He won't go very fast in a sinking ship.”

  "Anheg, that's monstrous!"

  "So's what Barak's trying to do. If he succeeds in breaking through to Garion, Zandramas will win, and we'll all end up under the heel of somebody worse than Torak was. If I have to sink Seabirdto avoid that, I'll do it ten times over." He sighed. "I'll miss my cousin, though, in case he gets drowned," he admitted.

  Queen Porenn of Drasnia had summoned Margrave Khen-don, the chief of her intelligence service, to her private chambers that morning and issued her commands in no uncertain trams. "Every oneof them, Javelin," she had said in a peremptory tone, "I want every single spy out of this wing of the palace for the rest of the day.”

  "Porenn!" Javelin had gasped. "That's unheard of! "

  “Not really. You just heard it—from me. Tell your people to sweep all the unofficial spies out, as well. I want this wing of the palace totally unpopulated within the hour. I have spies of my own, Javelin, and I know where all the usual hiding places are. Clean out every one of them."

  "I'm bitterly disappointed in you, Porenn. Monarchs simply don't treat the intelligence service in this fashion. Have you any idea of what this is going to do to my people's morale?"

  "Frankly, Khendon, I couldn't care less about the morale of your professional snoops. This is a matter of supreme urgency.”

  "Has my service ever failed you, your Majesty?" Javelin's tone had been a bit offended.

  "Twice that J recall. Didn't t
he Bear-cult infiltrate your service? And didn't your people fail abysmally to warn me about Genera! Haldar's defection?"

  Javelin had sighed. "All right, Porenn, sometimes a few mi-northings have escaped us."

  "You call Haldar's going over to the Bear-cult minor?"

  "You're being unnecessarily critical, Porenn,"

  "I want this wing cleared, Javelin. Would you like to have me summon my son? We'll draw up a proclamation making the prohibition against spying on the royal family permanent."

  "You wouldn't!" Javelin's face had turned absolutely white. "The whole service would collapse. The right to spy on the royal family has always been the highest reward for exemplary service. Most of my people jump at the chance.” He frowned slightly. "Silk's turned it down three times already, though," he added.

  "Then clear them out, Javelin—and don't forget the closet hidden behind the tapestry in the corridor just outside."

  "How did you find out about thafi"

  "Ididn't. Kheva did, actually."

  Javelin had groaned.

  A few hours after that, Porenn sat impatiently in her sitting room with her son, King Kheva. Kheva was maturing rapidly now. His voice had settled into a resonant baritone, and a downy beard had begun to sprout on his cheeks. His mother, in somewhat marked contrast to most regents, had been gradually introducing him into state councils and negotiations with foreign powers. It would not be long now until she could gently guide

  .r him to the forefront and gradually withdraw herself from her unwanted position of authority. Kheva would be a good king, she thought. He was very nearly as shrewd as his father had been and he had that most necessary trait in a reigning monarch, good sense.

  There was a rather heavy-handed pounding on the sitting-loom door. "Yes?" Porenn replied.

  "It's me, Porenn," a brash-sounding voice said. "Yarblek." v "Come in, Yarblek. We've got something to talk about." s, Yarblek pushed the door open, and he and Vella entered. | Porenn sighed. During the course of her visit to Gar og Nadrak, & Vella had reverted. She had shed the shallow veneer of gentility f?Porenn had labored so long to create, and her garb indicated f that she had once again become the wild, untameable creature 'I she had always been before.

  "What's all the rush, Porenn?" Yarblek said gruffly, dump-|ing his shabby felt coat and shaggy hat in the corner. "Your messenger almost killed his horse getting to me."

  "Something urgent has come up," the Queen of Drasnia replied. "I think it concerns us all. I want you to keep it in strictest ^confidence, however."

  "Confidence." Yarblek laughed derisively. "You know there f aren't any secrets in your palace, Porenn."

  "There is this time," Porenn said a bit smugly. "This moming I ordered Javelin to clear all the spies out of this wing of die in palace."

  Yarblek grinned. "How did he take it?"

  "Badly, I'm afraid."

  "Good. He's been getting just a little too sure of himself flately. All right, let's get down to business. What's this problem?"

  "In a moment. Did you find out what Drosta's been up to?"

  "Of course. He's trying to make peace with Zakath. He's been dealing—at a distance—with the Mallorean who's in charge of their Bureau of Internal Affairs; Brador, I think his name is. Anyway, Drosta's been letting Mallorean agents runnel through Gar og Nadrak to infiltrate the west.”

  It was Yarblek's tone of voice more than anything that warned renn that there was more. "All of it, Yarblek. You're holding ngs back.”

  Yarblek sighed. "I hate dealing with a clever woman," he implained. "It seems so unnatural for some reason." Then he prudently skipped out of the range of Vella's daggers. "All right.” He gave up. “Zakath needs money and lots of it to deal with the wars he's got on two different fronts. Drosta's cut the import duties on Mallorean carpets—at least to the merchants who pay taxes to Mal Zeth. Those Malloreans have been scalping Silk and me in the Arendish markets."

  "I assume you took advantage of that information?"

  "Naturally." He thought a moment. "Here's your chance to make a tidy profit, Porenn," he suggested. "Drosta's cut the import duties to the Malloreans by fifteen percent. You could raise your duties by the same amount. You'll make money, and Silk and I can stay competitive."

  "I think you're trying to swindle me, Yarblek," Porenn said suspiciously.

  "Me?"

  "We'll talk about it later. Now, listen very carefully. This is the reason I sent for you. Barak, Mandorallen, Hettar, Lell-dorin, and Relg are sailing to Mallorea. We're not entirely positive, but we think they plan to intrude themselves in Belgarion's quest. You were there at Rheon, and you know what that Dala-sian Seeress told us. Those hotheads absolutely have to stay out of it."

  "I'll certainly agree about that."

  "How fast can you get a message to your people in Mallorea?"

  "A few weeks. Maybe a little fester if I make it a top priority."

  "This matter has the highest priority, Yarblek. Anheg and Varana are chasing Barak, but we can't be sure they'll catch him in time. We have to delay Barak, and the best way to do that is to feed him misinformation. I want you to instruct your people in Mallorea to tell Barak lies. Keep him going off in the wrong direction every chance you get. Barak will be following Khel-dar, so he'll be checking in at every one of your branch offices in Mallorea for information. If Kheldar and the others are going to Maga Renn or Penn Daka, have your people tell Barak thai he's going to Mal Dariya."

  "I know the procedure, Porenn," Yarblek said. He squinted at her speculatively. "You'll be turning authority here in Drasnia over to his Majesty here fairly soon, won't you?" he asked her.

  "In a few years, yes."

  "When this business in Mallorea is concluded, I think Silk and I might want to have a long discussion with you."

  "Oh?"

  "What's your feeling about accepting a junior partnership in our operation—after your obligations here in Boktor have all been satisfied?"

  "I'm very flattered, Yarblek. What possessed you to raise such a possibility? "

  "You're very shrewd, Porenn, and you've got all sorts of contacts. We might even be prepared to go as high as a five percent share."

  "Absolutely out of the question, Yarblek," King Kheva interrupted surprisingly. "The percentage would have to be at least twenty."

  "Twenty?" Yarblek almost screamed.

  “I have to protect my mother's interests,” Kheva said blandly. "She won't always be young, you know, and I'd hate to see her spend her declining years scrubbing floors."

  "This is highway robbery, Kheva!" Yarblek's face had turned bright red.

  "I'm not holding a knife to your throat, Yarblek," Kheva said. "It might really be better in the long run if mother went into business for herself anyway. She should be able to do very well—particularly in view of the fact that all members of the royal family are exempt from Drasnian import duties.”

  "I think you just stabbed yourself in the hand, Yarblek." Vella smirked. "As long as you're getting bad news today anyway, I might as well add my share. When this is all over, I want you to sell me."

  "Sell you? To whom?"

  "I'll tell you when the time comes."

  "Has he got any money?"

  "I really don't know, but that doesn't matter. I'll pay you your share of the price myself.”

  "You must really think a lot of him to make that kind of an offer."

  "You have absolutely no idea, Yarblek. I was made for this man."

  "We were told to stay here, Atesca," Bradorsaid stubbornly.

  "That was before this long silence," General Atesca said, nervously pacing up and down in the large pavilion they shared. Atesca wore his uniform and his gold-inlaid steel breastplate. "The Em-perort well-being and safety are my responsibility."

  "They're as much mine as they are yours." Brador was absently rubbing the furry tummy of the half-grown cat lying ecstatic in his tap.

  "All right, why aren't you doing something about it then? We haven't had
word of him in weeks. Not even your intelligence network can tell us where he is."

  "I know that, Atesca, but I'm not going to disobey an imperial command just because you're getting nervous—or bored."

  “Why don't you stay here and take care of the kittens, then?” Atesca said acidly. "I'm going to move the army out tomorrow morning."

  "I didn't deserve that, Atesca."

  "Sorry, Brador. This long silence is making me a little edgy, and I'm losing my grip on civility."

  "I'm as concerned as you are, Atesca," Brador said, "but all of my training rises up in protest at the notion of flying directly in the face of an imperial command." The kitten in Brador's lap nuzzled at his fingers affectionately. "You know," he said, "I think that when his Majesty returns, I'll ask him if I can have this kitten. I'm really growing rather fond of her."

  "That's up to you," Atesca said. "Trying to find homes for two or three litters of kittens every year might keep you out of trouble." The broken-nosed general tugged thoughtfully at one earlobe. "How about a compromise?" he suggested.

  "Ifai always willing to listen."

  "All right. We know that Urvon's army has largely disbanded, and there's fairly strong presumptive evidence that Ur-von is dead."

  "I'd say so, yes."

  "And Zandramas has moved her forces into the Dalasian protectorates."

  "That's what my people report."

  "Now then, we're both senior officials in his Majesty's government, aren't we?"

  "Yes."

  "Doesn't that mean that we're expected to use our own initiative to take advantage of tactical situations that arise in the field without consulting Mal Zetn?"

  "I suppose so. You’ve spent more time in the field than I have, though."

  "It's standard practice, Brador. All right, then. Darshiva is virtually undefended. What I'm suggesting is that we restore order across the river in Peldane and move in to occupy Darshiva. That way we cut Zandramas off from her base of support. We set up a main line of resistance along the edge of those mountains to repel her forces if they try to return. We'll have effectively brought these two provinces back under imperial control. We might even get a few medals out of it."