The Seeress of Kell by David Eddings
‘I wouldn’t think so.’
‘Pity,’ Urgit said.
As soon as they found out that Polgara, Ce’Nedra, and Velvet were still on board Seabird, Queen Prala and Queen Mother Tamazin excused themselves and left the throne room to renew old acquaintances.
‘Find seats, gentlemen,’ Urgit said after they had left. He sprawled on his throne with one leg cocked up over the arm. ‘What are these things you wanted to tell me, Kheldar?’
Silk sat down on the edge of the dais and reached inside his tunic.
‘Please don’t do that, Kheldar,’ Urgit told him, shying away. ‘I know how many daggers you carry.’
‘Not a dagger this time, Urgit,’ Silk assured him. ‘Only this.’ He handed over a folded parchment packet.
Urgit opened it and scanned it quickly. ‘Who’s Oldorin of Perivor?’ he asked.
‘He’s the king of an island off the south coast of Mallorea,’ Garion told him. ‘A group of us met in his palace.’
‘Quite a group, I see,’ Urgit said, looking over the signatures. He frowned. ‘I also see that you spoke for me,’ he said to Silk.
‘He protected your interests rather well, Urgit,’ Belgarath assured him. ‘The details we hammered out are mostly generalities, you’ll notice, but it’s a start.’
‘It is indeed, Belgarath,’ Urgit agreed. ‘I notice that no one spoke for Drosta.’
‘The king of Gar og Nadrak was unrepresented, your Majesty,’ Mandorallen told him.
‘Poor old Drosta,’ Urgit chuckled. ‘He always seems to get left out. This is all very nice, gentlemen, and it might even insure a decade or so of peace – provided you promised to let Zakath have my head on a plate to decorate some unimportant room in his palace at Mal Zeth with.’
‘That’s the main thing we came to discuss with you,’ Silk told him. ‘Zakath returned to Mal Zeth when we all left Perivor, but I talked with him for quite a while before we separated, and he finally agreed to accept peace overtures.’
‘Peace?’ Urgit scoffed. ‘The only peace Zakath wants is eternal peace – for every living Murgo, and I’m at the top of his list.’
‘He’s changed a bit,’ Garion told him. ‘He has something more important on his mind right now than exterminating Murgos.’
‘Nonsense, Garion. Everybody wants to exterminate the Murgos. Even I want to exterminate them, and I’m their king.’
‘Send some ambassadors to Mal Zeth,’ Silk advised him. ‘Give them enough power to negotiate in good faith.’
‘Give a Murgo power? Kheldar, are you out of your mind?’
‘I can find some trustworthy men, Urgit,’ Oskatat assured him.
‘In Cthol Murgos? Where? Under some damp rock?’
‘You’re going to have to start trusting people, Urgit,’ Belgarath told him.
‘Oh, of course, Belgarath,’ Urgit said with heavy sarcasm. ‘I sort of have to trust you, but that’s because you’ll turn me into a frog if I don’t.’
‘Just send your ambassadors to Mal Zeth, Urgit,’ Silk said patiently. ‘You may be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.’
‘Any outcome that doesn’t leave me without my head would be pleasant.’ Urgit squinted shrewdly at his brother. ‘You’ve got something else on your mind, Kheldar,’ he said. ‘Go ahead and spit it out.’
‘The world’s right on the verge of breaking out in a bad case of peace,’ Silk told him. ‘My partner and I have been on a wartime footing for years now. Our enterprises are very likely to collapse if we don’t find new markets – and markets for peacetime goods. Cthol Murgos has been at war for a generation now.’
‘Longer than that, actually. Technically, we’ve been at war since the ascension of the Urga Dynasty – which I have the distinct displeasure of representing.’
‘There must be quite a hunger for peace-time amenities in your kingdom then – little things, like roofs for the houses, pots to cook in, something to cook in them – things like that.’
‘I’d imagine so, yes.’
‘Good. Yarblek and I can ship goods to Cthol Murgos by sea and turn Rak Urga into the largest commercial center on the southern half of the continent.’
‘Why would you want to? Cthol Murgos is bankrupt.’
‘The bottomless mines are still there, aren’t they?’
‘Of course, but they’re all in territories controlled by the Malloreans.’
‘But if you conclude a peace treaty with Zakath, the Malloreans will be leaving, won’t they? We’ll have to move fast on this, Urgit. As soon as the Malloreans withdraw, you’ll have to move in, not only with troops, but also with miners.’
‘What do I get out of it?’
‘Taxes, brother mine, taxes. You can tax the gold miners, you can tax me, and you can tax my customers. You’ll be rolling in money in just a few years.’
‘And the Tolnedrans will swindle me out of all of it in just a few weeks.’
‘Not too likely,’ Silk smirked. ‘Varana’s the only Tolnedran in the world who knows about this, and he’s on Barak’s ship out in the harbor right now. He won’t get back to Tol Honeth for several weeks.’
‘What difference does that make? Nobody can make a move of any kind until I conclude a peace treaty with Zakath, can they?’
‘That’s not entirely true, Urgit. You and I can draw up an agreement guaranteeing me exclusive access to the Murgo market. I’ll pay you handsomely for it, of course, and the agreement will be perfectly legal – and iron-clad. I’ve drawn up enough trade agreements to be able to see to that. We can hammer out the details later, but the important thing right now is to get something down in writing with both our names on it. And then, when peace breaks out, the Tolnedrans will swarm down here. You can show them the document and send them all home again. If I’ve got exclusive access, we’ll make millions. Millions, Urgit, millions!’
Both of their noses were twitching violently now.
‘What sort of provisions would we want to put in this agreement of exclusivity?’ Urgit asked cautiously.
Silk grinned broadly at him and reached inside his doublet again. ‘I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up an interim document,’ he said, pulling out another parchment, ‘just to save time, of course.’
Sthiss Tor was still a very unattractive city, Garion noticed as Barak’s sailors moored Seabird to the familiar wharf in the Drasnian trade enclave. The hawsers were no sooner tied off when Silk leaped across to the wharf and hurried up the street. ‘Is he likely to have any trouble?’ Garion asked Sadi.
‘Not too likely,’ Sadi, who was crouched down behind a longboat, replied. ‘Salmissra knows who he is, and I know my queen. Her face doesn’t show any emotion, but her curiosity is very strong. I’ve spent the last three days composing that letter. She’ll see me. I can practically guarantee that. Could we go below, Garion? I’d really rather not have anybody see me.’
It was perhaps two hours later when Silk returned accompanied by a platoon of Nyissan soldiers. The platoon leader was familiar.
‘Is that you, Issus?’ Sadi called out through the porthole of the cabin in which he was hiding. ‘I thought you’d be dead by now.’
‘Hardly,’ the one-eyed assassin said.
‘You’re working at the palace now?’
‘Yes.’
‘For the queen?’
‘Among others. I take on a few odd jobs for Javelin now and then.’
‘Does the queen know about that?’
‘Of course. All right, Sadi. The queen’s agreed to a two-hour amnesty for you. We’d better hurry. I’m sure you’ll want to be gone from here before those two hours run out. The queen’s fangs start to itch every time she hears your name, so let’s go – unless you’d like to reconsider and start running right now.’
‘No,’ Sadi said. ‘I’ll be right up. I’m bringing Polgara and Belgarion with me, if that’s all right.’
‘That’s up to you,’ Issus said with an indifferent shrug.
The palace was sti
‘And I see you’ve managed to stay alive, Y’sth,’ Sadi replied coldly. ‘That’s a shame, really.’
Y’sth’s eyes narrowed with undisguised hatred. ‘I’d be a little careful about what I say, Sadi,’ he squeaked. ‘You’re not Chief Eunuch anymore. As a matter of fact, I may soon hold that position myself.’
‘May the heavens defend poor Nyissa then,’ Sadi murmured.
‘You’ve heard of the queen’s command that Sadi be given safe-conduct?’ Issus asked the eunuch.
‘Not from her own lips.’
‘Salmissra doesn’t have lips, Y’sth, and you’ve just heard about it – from me. Now, are you going to get out of our way? Or am I going to have to slit you up the middle?’
Y’sth backed away. ‘You can’t threaten me, Issus.’
‘I wasn’t threatening you. I was just asking a question.’ Then the assassin led the way up the polished stone corridor leading to the throne room.
The room they entered was unchanged and probably unchangeable. Thousands of years of tradition had seen to that. Salmissra, her coils stirring restlessly and her blunt, crowned head weaving sinuously in front of her mirror, occupied the throne.
‘Sadi the eunuch, My Queen,’ Issus announced with a bow. Issus, Garion noted, did not prostrate himself before the throne as did other Nyissans.
‘Ah,’ Salmissra hissed, ‘and the beautiful Polgara and King Belgarion. You’ve fallen in with important people since you left my service, Sadi.’
‘Pure chance, my Queen,’ Sadi lied glibly.
‘What is this vital matter that impelled you to risk your life by coming into my presence again?’
‘Only this, Eternal Salmissra,’ Sadi replied. He set his red leather case on the floor, opened it, and removed a folded parchment. He casually kicked a groveling eunuch in the ribs. ‘Take this to the queen,’ he commanded.
‘You’re not enhancing your popularity here, Sadi,’ Garion cautioned quietly.
‘I’m not running for public office, Garion. I can be as disagreeable as I choose to be.’
Salmissra quickly perused the Accords of Dal Perivor. ‘Interesting,’ she hissed.
‘I’m sure your Majesty can see the opportunities implicit in those accords,’ Sadi said. ‘I felt it was my responsibility to make you aware of them.’
‘Of course I can see what’s involved, Sadi,’ she said. ‘I’m a snake, not a cretin.’
‘Then I’ll bid you goodbye, my Queen. I’ve performed my last duty to you.’
Salmissra’s eyes had gone flat with concentration. ‘Not just yet, my Sadi,’ she said in a whisper that was almost a purr. ‘Come a little closer.’
‘You gave your word, Salmissra,’ he said apprehensively.
‘Oh, do be sensible, Sadi,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to bite you. It was all a ploy, wasn’t it? You had discovered the possibility that these accords might be in the making and you deliberately set out to have yourself disgraced so that you could pursue them. Your negotiations on my behalf were brilliant, I must say. You have done very well, Sadi – even if your actions involved deceiving me. I am well-pleased with you. Would you consent to resume your former position here in the palace?’
‘Consent, my Queen?’ he blurted almost boyishly. ‘I’d be overjoyed. I live but to serve you.’
Salmissra swiveled her head around to regard the prostrated eunuchs. ‘You will all leave me now,’ she commanded them. ‘I want you to go throughout the palace and spread the word that Sadi has been rehabilitated and that I’ve reinstated him. If anyone cares to dispute my decision, send him to me, and I’ll explain it to him.’
They stared at her, and Garion noticed that not a few faces were filled with chagrin.
‘How tiresome,’ Salmissra sighed. ‘They’re too delighted to move. Please drive them out, Issus.’
‘As my Queen desires,’ Issus said, drawing his sword. ‘Did you want them all to survive?’
‘A few of them, Issus – the more nimble ones.’
The throne room was vacated almost immediately.
‘I cannot sufficiently thank your Majesty,’ Sadi said.
‘I’ll think of a way, my Sadi. First of all, we’ll both pretend that the motives I suggested a moment ago were genuine, won’t we?’
‘I understand perfectly, Divine Salmissra.’
‘After all,’ she added, ‘we must protect the dignity of the throne. You will assume your former duties and your former quarters. We’ll think of suitable honors and rewards later.’ She paused. ‘I’ve missed you, my Sadi. I don’t think anyone can ever know how much.’ Her head moved slowly around, and she regarded Polgara. ‘And how did your encounter with Zandramas go, Polgara?’ she asked.
‘Zandramas is no longer with us, Salmissra.’
‘Splendid. I never really liked her. And is the universe restored again?’
‘It is, Salmissra.’
‘I think I’m glad of that. Chaos and disruption are irritating to a snake, you know. We’re partial to calm and to order.’
Garion noticed that a small green snake had slithered out from under Salmissra’s throne to approach Sadi’s red leather case, which lay open and forgotten on the marble floor. The little snake reared up to regard the earthenware bottle. He was purring seductively.
‘And did you recover your son, your Majesty?’ Salmissra asked Garion.
‘We did, your Majesty.’
‘Congratulations. Give my regards to your wife.’
‘I will, Salmissra.’
‘We must leave now,’ Polgara said. ‘Goodbye, Sadi.’
‘Goodbye, Lady Polgara.’ Sadi looked at Garion. ‘Goodbye, Garion,’ he said. ‘It’s been a lot of fun, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes, it has,’ Garion agreed, shaking the eunuch’s hand.
‘Say goodbye to the others for me. I rather imagine we’ll all see each other from time to time on state business, but it won’t be exactly the same, will it?’
‘No, probably not.’ Garion turned to follow Aunt Pol and Issus from the throne room,
‘A moment, Polgara,’ Salmissra said.
‘Yes?’
‘You’ve changed many things here. At first, I was very angry with you, but now I’ve had time to reconsider. Everything’s turned out for the best after all. You have my thanks.’
Polgara inclined her head.
‘Congratulations on your forthcoming blessing,’ Salmissra added.
Polgara’s face gave no hint of surprise at the Serpent Queen’s perception of her condition. ‘Thank you, Salmissra,’ she said.
They stopped off in Tol Honeth to deliver Emperor Varana to the palace. The heavy-shouldered professional soldier seemed a bit abstracted, Garion noticed. He spoke briefly with a palace functionary as the group moved toward his quarters, and the official scurried away.
Their farewells were brief, almost abrupt. Varana was, as always, the soul of courtesy, but he obviously had other things on his mind.
Ce’Nedra was fuming as they left the palace. She was, as she almost always was now, carrying her young son, and was absently running her fingers through his blond curls. ‘He was almost rude,’ she said indignantly.
Silk looked down the broad marble drive leading up to the palace. Spring was approaching in these northern latitudes, and the leaves were beginning to appear on the huge old trees lining the drive. A number of richly dressed Tolnedrans were almost running up the drive toward the palace. ‘Your uncle, – or brother, whichever you want to call him – has something very important to attend to just now,’ the little man told Ce’Nedra.
‘What could possibly be more important than common courtesy?’
‘Cthol Murgos, at the moment.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘If Zakath and Urgi
‘I understand that,’ she said tartly.
‘Of course you do. You’re a Tolnedran, after all.’
‘Why aren’t you doing something about it?’
‘I already have, Ce’Nedra,’ he smiled, polishing a large ring on the front of his pearl gray doublet. ‘Varana may be very cross with me when he finally finds out what I’ve done to him.’
‘What exactly did you do?’
‘I’ll tell you once we’re back out to sea. You’re still a Borune and you might have some residual family loyalties. I wouldn’t want you to spoil the surprise for your uncle.’
They sailed north along the west coast, and then up the River Arend to the shallows a few leagues west of Vo Mimbre. Then they took to horse and rode through spring sunshine to the fabled city of the Mimbrate Arends.
The court of King Korodullin was thunderstruck by Mandorallen’s announcement that Mimbrate Arends had been discovered on the far side of the world. Courtiers and functionaries were sent scurrying off to various libraries to compose suitable replies to the greetings sent from King Oldorin.
The copy of the Accords of Dal Perivor delivered to the throne by Lelldorin, however, evoked troubled expressions on the faces of several of the more seasoned members of the court. ‘I do fear me, your Majesties,’ one elderly courtier observed to Korodullin and Mayaseran, ‘that our poor Arendia hath once more fallen behind the rest of the civilized world. Always in the past have we taken some comfort in the well-nigh eternal strife between Alorn and Angarak and the more recent conflict between Mallorean and Murgo, thinking perhaps that their discord in some measure excused ours. This scant comfort, methinks, will not long be available to us. Shall we let it be said that only in this most tragic of kingdoms doth rancor and rude war still prevail? How may we hold up our heads in a peaceful world so long as childish bickering and idiotic intestine war do mar our relationships with each other?’
‘I find thy words highly offensive, my Lord,’ a stiff-necked young baron denounced the old man. ‘No true Mimbrate could ever refuse to heed the stern urgings of honor.’