Belgarath the Sorcerer

by David Eddings

  A report from the Drasnian ambassador at Vo Mimbre caught up with me a couple of months later, and I gather that Mandorallen had more than fulfilled his promise. Windy or not, Mandorallen - once he’d shut his mouth and got started - was something in the order of a natural disaster. A fair number of the knights he met in the lists that day actually had to be cut out of their armor before their injuries could be tended.

  By the time Mandorallen had finished talking and got down to business, however, I was already at the Drasnian embassy in Tol Honeth.

  ‘How good is he?’ I asked Javelin, pointing at Silk. It probably wasn’t very polite to ask the question right there in front of the rat-faced little spy, but recent events had noticeably eroded my good manners.

  ‘He shows a certain amount of promise, Ancient One,’ Javelin replied. ‘He has a slight tendency to get side-tracked, though. Honesty’s not one of his strong points. He’s got the soul of a thief, and he can’t seem to be able to pass up the opportunity to steal things.’

  ‘Javelin!’ Silk protested. Prince Kheldar was wearing the typical Drasnian black doublet and hose. He was a wiry little fellow with a sharp face and a long, pointed nose. He was only about twenty at the time, but his eyes were already cynical and intelligent far beyond his years.

  ‘All right then, gentlemen,’ I said, ‘let’s get down to business. There’s a Grolim named Chamdar who usually goes by the name of “Asharak the Murgo”. He was in Sendaria recently, and he did some things there that seriously irritated me. As closely as I can determine, he recently passed through Arendia, and he was coming this way. I want him. Find him for me.’

  ‘He gets right to the point, doesn’t he?’ Silk said to his friend. Then he gave me that impudent little grin that’s always irritated me for some reason. ‘Just out of curiosity, Ancient One, why have I been selected for the great honor of assisting you in this quest of yours? I’m a relative novice, after all.’

  ‘Because Chamdar knows me, and he can probably also recognize most of Javelin’s more experienced agents on sight. You’re new enough in this business that your face isn’t widely known. That’s why I’ve looked you up specifically. I’m hoping that your anonymity’s going to make it possible for you to search him out for me.’

  ‘Do you want me to kill him?’ Silk’s eyes grew bright.

  ‘No. I just want you to find him. I’ll take it from there.’

  ‘Spoilsport.’

  ‘Is he always like this?’ I asked Javelin.

  ‘Usually, yes. Sometimes it’s worse.’

  ‘What would the location of this Asharak be worth to you, Ancient One?’ Silk asked in a sly tone of voice.

  ‘Silk!’ Javelin snapped.

  ‘I was only joking,’ the little fellow grinned. ‘I’ve known Holy Belgarath since I was a boy. He knows that I like to tweak his beard now and then.’ He looked at me. ‘In point of fact, Asharak the Murgo’s in Tol Rane right now. I can give you the name of the inn where he’s staying, if you’d like. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?’

  ‘Are you sure he’s in Tol Rane?’ I demanded.

  ‘As sure as we can be about anything in our peculiar business. Tolnedran intelligence isn’t really very good, but they do have a lot of people out in the streets, and they’ve always kept an eye on this Asharak fellow.’

  ‘How did you find out about it?’ Javelin asked him.

  ‘I have some contacts inside Tolnedran intelligence,’ Silk replied with a lofty expression as he buffed his fingernails on the front of his doublet. ‘Anyway, Ran Borune’s involved in trade negotiations with the Murgos right now, and the Murgo trade delegation reports directly to Asharak. They’ve had messengers burning up the road between here and Tol Rane for the past two weeks.’

  ‘How did you find out about that?’ Javelin demanded.

  Silk smirked at him. ‘I have my sources,’ he replied.

  ‘More to the point, why didn’t you report it to me?’

  ‘I’d have gotten around to it - eventually. I wanted a few more details before I laid it on your desk. You always ask so many questions, Javelin. I’ve got it under control, and you’ve got other things on your mind.’

  ‘You’re an absolute gold mine of information, Prince Kheldar,’ Javelin said sarcastically. ‘At least you are once I manage to pry your jaws open.’ Then he moved on rather quickly. ‘What’s Ran Borune trying to sell to the Murgos?’

  Silk shrugged. ‘A bit of this, a bit of that,’ he replied evasively.

  ‘Describe the “this” and the “that”, Silk.’

  Silk winced. ‘All right, if you’re going to be that way about it. Ran Borune’s got a nephew who’s in business in the commercial enclave at Riva. The nephew’s come very close to cornering the market in the spring shearing on the Isle of the Winds, and he’ll be able to make a very tidy profit if he can find a way to sell all that wool to the Murgos. I’ve got a friend on the Isle who’s trying to outbid the nephew, though. If Ran Borune does manage to strike a deal with the Murgos, he may very well make my friend rich instead of his own nephew.’

  ‘And you’re getting a commission from your friend, aren’t you?’ Javelin demanded.

  ‘Naturally. I am supplying him with information on the trade negotiations, after all. Fair’s fair, Javelin.’

  ‘If your uncle finds out that you’re using the resources of the intelligence service for your personal enrichment, he’ll have apoplexy. You do know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Then we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find out, won’t we?’ Silk replied blandly. ‘My uncle’s the King of Drasnia, Javelin. He’s got enough on his mind already without concerning himself with something like this.’ The little swindler looked at me. ‘Did you want me to go with you to Tol Rane?’ he asked.

  ‘I think so, yes. You have contacts there, I assume?’

  ‘Old friend, I have contacts everywhere. Did you want to know what Salmissra had for breakfast this morning?’

  ‘Not particularly. Why don’t you go throw a few things together. We’ll be leaving for Tol Rane tomorrow morning.’

  ‘I don’t have to throw things together, Belgarath. My bags are always packed.’

  The next morning, Silk came down into the courtyard of the embassy, wearing a maroon velvet doublet and a bag-like black velvet hat cocked over one ear.

  ‘Isn’t that a little fancy for a long trip on horseback?’ I asked him.

  ‘One must look the part, Ancient One,’ he replied. ‘I’m known in Tol Rane as Radek of Boktor. I do business there on occasion, and I’ve found it useful not to use my real name. That “Prince” my family tacked onto me has a tendency to make various merchants think that I’m an easy mark. Believe me, nobody tries to swindle Radek of Boktor. I’ve cut some very sharp deals in this particular guise.’

  ‘I’m sure you have. Let’s get started.’

  We took the high road to Tol Rane and arrived in that snow-clogged city about a week later. Since Tol Rane’s right up against the border of what used to be Maragor, it’s high up in the mountains, and it gets almost as much snow as Val Alorn or Boktor do each winter. We went to the inn where Silk usually stayed when he was in town and took a fairly opulent suite of rooms on the top floor, ‘for the sake of appearances’, as he put it.

  Not long after we arrived, one of the local Drasnian agents stopped by to pay a visit, and he and Silk held an extended conversation in the secret language. It wasn’t really necessary to do it that way, of course, but I think Silk was showing off.

  After the other Drasnian had left, my little companion filled me in on some of the details of their discussion. There were a number of large gaps, but I didn’t bother to correct him. He didn’t really need to know that I understood all that finger-waving.

  ‘Asharak’s been here, right enough,’ the little man concluded, ‘but no one’s seen him in the past several days. I’ll nose around a bit and see if I can turn up anything more specific.’

  ‘Do th
at,’ I told him. ‘I’ll stay here. There’s no point in announcing the fact that I’m in Tol Rane, and Chamdar knows me on sight. If he catches so much as a glimpse of me, he’ll be across the border into Cthol Murgos before the sun goes down.’

  Silk nodded, and then he left.

  No sooner had the door closed behind him, though, than I altered my appearance enough to be unrecognizable and followed him. I didn’t do it because I didn’t trust him, although Silk’s not the most trustworthy man in the world, but I wanted to see him in action. He didn’t know it yet, but the ‘Guide’ was going to be very important as time went on, and I wanted to be sure that he’d be able to handle the things he’d come up against.

  He didn’t disappoint me. Prince Kheldar was already as smooth as his nickname implied. He hadn’t shaved in the week or so that we’d been on the road from Tol Honeth, and that hint of a beard gave him the appearance of being older than he really was, and he was able to assume mannerisms that reinforced that perception in the eyes of others. I’m convinced that if Silk had really wanted to - and if the business of being a spy hadn’t been so exciting for him - he might very well have been able to make a fortune as an actor. I’ve assumed various disguises over the years, so I’m in a position to recognize genius when I see it.

  All right, Silk, don’t let it go to your head. I’ll freely admit that you’re very good, but isn’t that what I hired you for?

  ‘Radek of Boktor’ drifted around the snowy streets of Tol Rane, and he concluded a fair number of business transactions as he went. I stayed in the background, so I couldn’t actually hear any of the details, but I get the strong impression that ‘Radek’ sold a lot of things that he didn’t actually own that day. He glibly promised delivery, however, and I’d imagine that he probably made good on most of those promises. Silk isn’t above swindling people on occasion, but he was still working very hard to establish ‘Radek’s’ reputation.

  Eventually, he worked his way across town to the district where the Murgos normally stayed, and in the common-room of an inn there he got down to business. After he’d sold some things that he didn’t really have title to, he made a few discreet inquiries. He was sitting at a table with three scar-faced Murgos, and he leaned back, idly toying with his tankard. ‘If any of you happen to know a man named Asharak, you might pass the word along that Radek of Boktor’s got a business proposition for him,’ he declared.

  ‘Why should I go out of my way to make Asharak richer?’ one of the Murgos countered.

  ‘Because Asharak pays good commissions,’ Silk replied. ‘I’m sure he’ll make it worth your while. The proposition promises to be very lucrative.’

  ‘If it’s that good, I might be interested myself.’

  ‘I don’t want to insult you, Grachik,’ Silk said with a thin smile, ‘but you don’t have the resources for this particular transaction. It involves a commodity, and we all know how expensive commodity transactions can be.’

  ‘What kind of commodity?’

  ‘I’d prefer to tell Asharak about that privately. Sometimes things have a way of leaking out, and I have some competitors I’d sort of like to keep in the dark. If they find out that Radek’s coming into the market, prices are going to start climbing. That wouldn’t do either me or Asharak much good.’

  ‘Asharak isn’t here in Tol Rane,’ Grachik told him. ‘He left for Tol Borune two days ago.’

  One of the other Murgos kicked the talkative Grachik under the table.

  ‘Well,’ Grachik amended quickly, ‘that’s what I heard, anyway. With Asharak, you never really know. He has dealings all over Tolnedra, you realize. For all I know, he could be in Tol Horb by now.’ It was pitifully transparent. Grachik had let something slip that he was supposed to keep to himself.

  ‘Asharak’s an elusive one, all right,’ Silk agreed. ‘I’ve been trying to track him down for two months now. The proposition I have in mind is very large, and Asharak’s probably the only man around who can afford it. If you happen to know anybody who can get word to him, let him know that I’ll be going back to Tol Honeth in a day or so. Tell him that I usually stay in that large inn near the Drasnian embassy, and that if he wants to double his money, he should look me up. I’m not going to waste any more of my time looking for him.’

  Silk talked with the Murgos for about another half-hour, and then he left. I stayed around long enough to hear the other two Murgos berate Grachik for his slip of the tongue and long enough to see Grachik try to cover his blunder by sending a pair of burly hirelings after my little friend. The Murgos were obviously willing to go to any lengths to keep Asharak’s location a secret.

  The pair of hired assassins caught up with Silk in a dark, snow-clogged side-street, but Silk clearly knew that he was being followed, and he seemed to be confident that he could deal with the situation. I wasn’t all that sure myself, so I stayed close enough to be able to lend a hand if it became necessary.

  It wasn’t. I’ve never seen anyone quite as agile as Silk can be in tight quarters. The assassins were a pair of knock-about Tolnedran footpads, and they were no match at all for my little Drasnian friend. He spun on the two of them, pulled one dagger out of his boot and another from down the back of his neck, and killed the pair of them in the space of about six heartbeats. Then he kicked snow over the two bodies and continued on his way. This boy was good!

  I managed to reach our lodgings a couple of minutes before he did, and I was sitting before the fire when he arrived. ‘Well?’ I said when he came in. ‘Did you find anything?’

  ‘The word I’m getting is that Asharak’s in Tol Borune right now. It’s probably fairly accurate, because the Murgo who let it slip tried to cover his mistake by having me waylaid on my way back here. That’s all the confirmation we really need, isn’t it?’

  ‘Probably so, yes. I guess we’d better go to Tol Borune, then.’

  ‘Tonight, Belgarath. By morning, that talkative Murgo’s going to realize that his hired killers failed, and I don’t want to be looking back over my shoulder every step of the way. Let’s get a running head start, if we can.’

  It took us about four days to reach Tol Borune, since Silk insisted that we stay off the main highway. I thought that I knew most of the country lanes in all the western kingdoms, but my sharp-nosed little companion led me along roads I’d never even seen before. Just outside Tol Borune, he reined in and changed clothes. ‘New identity,’ he explained. ‘Word’s probably reached Asharak by now that a fellow named Radek is looking for him.’

  ‘Who are you this time?’

  ‘Ambar of Kotu. Ambar’s a little less conspicuous than Radek, and they don’t move in the same circles.’

  ‘How many of these mythical Drasnians have you got up your sleeve?’

  ‘I’ve lost count. I’m partial to Radek and Ambar, though. I’ve spent more time with them, so I know them better. I dust off one of the others now and then, though - just to keep in practice.’

  ‘Is this what they teach you people at the academy?’

  ‘They bring it up now and then, but I developed most of it on my own even before I went there. I was born for this work, Belgarath. Shall we press on?’

  Since ‘Ambar of Kotu’ is a much shabbier-looking fellow than ‘Radek of Boktor’ is, we took a room in one of the run-down quarters of Tol Borune, and Silk immediately took to the streets with assorted fictions to conceal his real purpose. He came back late that night with that pointed nose twitching. ‘Something isn’t right here, Belgarath,’ he told me.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Are you sure that Asharak knows that you’re after him?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I’m like the wrath of God at this point, and he knows that I’ll hunt him down, no matter where he tries to hide.’

  ‘Then why isn’t he hiding? I located him in about two hours. I’m good, but I don’t think I’m that good.’

  I gave him a sharp look. ‘Maybe we’d better go have a look at this fellow,’ I said. ‘I think I know you well en
ough by now to trust your instincts. If you’re getting a whiff of something that doesn’t smell right, we’d probably better investigate.’

  He bowed with outrageous flamboyance. ‘I live but to serve, Ancient One,’ he told me.

  It was nearly midnight, and a raw wind was blowing through the deserted streets of Tol Borune as we went to the southern end of town where the Murgos usually gathered. Silk led me to a blocky sort of inn, and then we crept around to a bleary window made of cheap glass. ‘That’s the one they tell me is Asharak the Murgo,’ the little thief whispered, pointing at a scar-faced fellow sitting back in a corner.

  The man looked like Chamdar, and I’ll concede that the resemblance was almost uncanny, but when I sent out a carefully probing thought to make sure, my heart sank. The Murgo sitting in that corner was not Chamdar. I started to swear.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Silk whispered.

  ‘That man’s not the one I’m looking for.’

  ‘Belgarath, there are people in this town who know him, and they’re all convinced that he’s Asharak the Murgo.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that, but they’re wrong. We’ve been chasing an imposter.’ I swore some more. ‘We’d better get back to Tol Honeth. I want to fill Javelin in on this. The man everybody’s been watching isn’t Chamdar.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Chamdar’s a Grolim. That fellow at the table’s just an ordinary Murgo. The resemblance is very close, but that fellow’s not the one we want to find.’ I thought about it as we returned to our lodgings. The startling discovery explained a lot of things. I’m ashamed to admit that I hadn’t thought of it before. I should have known that something had made Chamdar so hard to keep track of. My brains must have been asleep.

  ‘What gave that Murgo back there away?’ Silk asked.

  ‘His thoughts. I can recognize Chamdar’s mind when I encounter it. We’re just wasting time here in Tol Borune. I want to be on the road to Tol Honeth when the sun comes up.’