Urgit’s face had grown cold. His eyes were narrowed, and he chewed nervously on a fingernail. “All right, Sadi,” he said, “what’s this all about?”
“Your Majesty—I—” The eunuch spread his hand.
“Don’t try to play the innocent with me,” Urgit snapped. “Did you know about this man?” He pointed at Silk.
“Well, yes, but—”
“And you chose not to tell me? What’s your game, Sadi?”
The eunuch hesitated, and Garion saw beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Durnik and Toth, moving casually as if merely removing themselves from the vicinity of the confrontation, went past Oskatat and leaned idly against the wall, one on each side of the door.
“Well, Sadi?” Urgit pressed. “I’ve heard about this Prince Kheldar. He’s not merely a spy; he’s an assassin as well.” His eyes suddenly grew wide. “So that’s it!” he gasped, staring at Silk. “Belgarion sent you here to kill me, didn’t he—you and these other Aloms.”
“Don’t be absurd, Urgit,” Lady Tamazin said from her chair. “You’ve been alone with these people for hours at a time since they arrived here. If they were here to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
He thought about that. “All right, you—Prince Kheldar— speak up. I want to know exactly what you’re doing here. Now talk.”
Silk shrugged. “It’s as I told my Lord Oskatat, your Majesty. I’m merely passing through. My business is in another part of the world.”
“Which part?”
“Here and there,” Silk said evasively.
“I’m going to get some straight answers here,” Urgit declared.
“Shall I send for the headsman, your Majesty?” Oskatat asked ominously.
“Perhaps that might not be a bad idea,” Urgit agreed.
The seneschal turned, but found Durnik and the impassive Toth barring his way from the room. Urgit, perceiving the situation at once, reached quickly for the bellpull which would fill the room with armed Murgos.
“Urgit!” Lady Tamazin snapped. “No!”
He hesitated.
“Do as I say!”
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Look around you,” she told him. “If you even touch that cord, one of these people will have a knife against your throat before you can tug it even once.”
His expression grew suddenly frightened, and he slowly lowered his hand.
Sadi cleared his throat. “Ah—your Majesty,” he said. “I believe that the Queen Mother has seen directly to the heart of the matter here. We are both in positions to greatly inconvenience each other. Wouldn’t it be wiser for us to discuss things rationally before we resort to any unpleasantness?”
“What is it that you want, Sadi?” Urgit asked him in a slightly quavering voice.
“Only what you had intended all along, your Majesty. As Kheldar said, our business is in another part of the world, and it does not directly concern you. Give us the ship that you were going to give us anyway, and in return we’ll deliver your Dagashi to Rak Hagga as we promised. After that, we’ll proceed with our own affairs. What could be fairer than that?”
“Listen to him, Urgit,” Lady Tamazin urged. “He makes a great deal of sense.”
Urgit’s expression was filled with doubt. “Do you really think so, mother?”
“What harm can they do you, once they’ve crossed the Malloreon lines?” she asked. “If you’re nervous about them, then get them out of Rak Urga as quickly as possible.”
“Al! except this one.” Oskatat pointed at Silk.
“We really need him, my Lord,” Sadi said politely.
“He killed Dorak Urgas,” the seneschal said stubbornly.
“We can give him a medal for that later, Oskatat,” Urgit said.
Oskatat stared at him.
“Oh, come now, my friend. You despised Dorak as much as I did.”
“He was a Murgo prince, your Majesty. His murder cannot go unpunished.”
“You seem to forget that I murdered a dozen of my other brothers—also Murgo princes—on my way to the throne. Were you planning to punish me as well?” Urgit looked back at Sadi. “I think, however, that it might not hurt for me to keep Kheldar here in the Drojim. Sort of as a performance bond. As soon as you deliver Kabach to Rak Hagga, I’ll release him. He can catch up with you later.”
Sadi’s expression grew pained.
“You’re overlooking something important here, Urgit,” Lady Tamazin said, leaning forward intently.
“Oh? What’s that, mother?”
“Prince Kheldar of Drasnia is reputed to be one of King Belgarion’s closest friends. You have there the perfect envoy to convey a message to the Rivan King.”
He looked sharply at Silk. “Is that true?” he asked. “Do you really know Belgarion?”
“Quite well, actually,” Silk replied. “I’ve known him since he was a little boy.”
“That old man over there said that Belgarion isn’t at Riva just now. Do you have any idea where you might be able to find him?”
“Your Majesty,” Silk answered with a perfectly straight face, “I can honestly tell you that I know exactly where Belgarion is at this very moment.”
Urgit scratched at one cheek, his eyes suspicious. “I don’t think I like this,” he said. “Let’s say that I give you a message to deliver to Belgarion. What’s to prevent you from just throwing it away and then circling around to rejoin your friends?”
“Ethics.” Silk shrugged. “I always do the things I’m paid to do. You were planning to pay me, weren’t you?”
Urgit stared at Silk for a moment and then he threw back his head and laughed. “You’re absolutely outrageous, Kheldar,” he said. “Here you are, about two steps from the headsman’s block, and you have the nerve to try to extort money from me.”
Silk sighed and looked around tragically. “Why is it that die word ‘pay’ always brings that same look of consternation into the eyes of kings the world over?” he asked. “Surely your Majesty would not expect me to perform this truly unique service for you without some small recompense, would you?”
“Wouldn’t you say that getting to keep your head is more than adequate payment?”
“Oh, I’m fairly safe, I think. Since I’m the only one in the world who can guarantee delivery of your message, I’m far too valuable to kill, wouldn’t you say?”
Lady Tamazin suddenly laughed, a whimsical expression on her face as she looked at the two of them.
“Something amusing, mother?” Urgit asked her.
“Nothing, Urgit. Nothing at all.”
The king’s eyes were still indecisive. He looked hopefully at his seneschal. “What do you think, Oskatat?” he asked. “Can I trust this little knave?”
“It’s your Majesty’s decision,” the big Murgo replied stiffly.
“I’m not asking you as your king,” Urgit told him. “I’m asking as a friend.”
Oskatat winced. “That’s cruel, Urgit,” he said. “You’re forcing me to decide between duty and friendship.” .
“All right, then. Let’s put it on that basis. What should I do?”
“As king, you should obey the law—even if it means flying in the face of your own best interests. As a man, however, you should seize every opportunity that presents itself to avert disaster.”
“Well? What should I do? Should I be a king or a man? Which do you advise?”
It hung there in the air between them. The seneschal refused to meet Urgit’s eyes. Instead, he cast one quick, appealing look at Lady Tamazin. “Torak forgive me,” he muttered finally. He straightened and looked his king full in the face. “Save yourself, Urgit,” he said. “If this Drasnian can arrange an alliance with Belgarion, then pay him whatever he demands and send him on his way. Belgarion may deceive you at some later date, but Kal Zakath seeks your head now. You need that alliance, no matter what the cost.”
“Thank you, Oskatat,” the king said with genuine gratitude. He turned back to Silk. “How quickly do you think you could reach Belgarion with my message?” he asked.
“Your Majesty,” Silk replied, “I can have your message in Belgarion’s hands more quickly than you could possibly imagine. Now, shall we talk about money?” His long, pointed nose began to twitch in a manner Garion recognized at once.
“How much do you want?” Urgit asked warily.
“Oh,” Silk pretended to think about it, “I suppose a hundred Tolnedran guidemarks ought to cover it.”
Urgit gaped at him. “A hundred marks? You’re insane!”
Silk casually examined the fingernails of one hand. “The figure’s open to negotiation, your Majesty,” he admitted. “I just wanted to establish a general price range sort of to get things off to a smooth start.”
Urgit’s eyes took on a strange light. He leaned forward, tugging absently at his nose. “I might be able to see my way clear to pay you ten—or so,” he countered. “I don’t really have all that much Tolnedran coin in my vaults.”
“Oh, that’s all right, your Majesty,” Silk said magnanimously. “I’d be willing to accept Angarak coins—at a slight discount, of course.”
“Discount?”
“Angarak gold is obviously adulterated, King Urgit. That’s why it’s red instead of yellow.”
Urgit eyed him narrowly. “Why don’t you draw up a chair, old boy?” he suggested. “This might take a while.” Strangely enough, his nose had also begun to twitch.
What followed was a display of astonishing virtuosity on the part of both negotiators. Garion had seen Silk in this sort of situation many times before and had always believed that his sharp-nosed friend was without peer when it came to getting the best of every bargain he struck. Urgit, however, quickly demonstrated that he too was an expert at the game. When Silk pointed out in suitably exaggerated terms the dangers he would have to face on his way to deliver the message, Urgit countered by offering an escort of Murgo soldiers rather than increased compensation. Silk dropped that line of attack and concentrated for a time on the unusual expenses he would incur—fresh horses, food and lodging, bribes and the like. In each case the Murgo King proposed assistance rather than money—horses, food and lodging at Murgo embassies or trade missions, and the good offices of Murgo officials to step around the necessity for bribes. Silk made some pretense at considering that, his watchful eyes never leaving his adversary’s face. Then he fell back to his previously prepared position, re-emphasizing his friendship with the Rivan King and the fact that he, perhaps better than any man in the world, could present the proposed alliance to Belgarion in the most favorable light. “After all,” he concluded, “what it finally comes down to is how much the alliance is worth to you, doesn’t it?”
“It’s worth a very great deal,” Urgit admitted with deceptive candor, “but, although I’d be the first to admit that you’re probably the perfect messenger, there’s no guarantee that Belgarion will agree to an alliance, now is there?” He paused, his expression announcing that a notion had just struck him. “I’ll tell you what,” he said then with an artfully feigned enthusiasm, “why don’t we set a relatively modest figure for the actual delivery of the message—oh, let’s say the ten marks I suggested previously.”
Silk’s face grew flinty, but Urgit lifted one hand. “Hear me out, your Highness,” he said. “As I just suggested, we agree on that figure as payment for carrying the message. Then, if Belgarion agrees to an alliance, I’d be more than happy to pay you the rest of the money you asked for.”
“That’s hardly fair, your Majesty,” Silk protested. “You’re putting the entire question into the hands of a third party. I can guarantee delivery, but not acceptance. Belgarion is a sovereign king. I can’t tell him what to do, and I have no way of knowing how he would react to your proposal.”
“Didn’t you say that you were his oldest friend? Surely you know him well enough to have at least some idea of how he would view the matter.”
“You’re shifting the entire basis of the negotiations, your Majesty,” Silk accused him.
“Yes, I know.” Urgit smirked.
“The payment for actually cementing an alliance between you and Belgarion would have to be much, much higher,” Silk countered. “What you propose is extremely hazardous, after all.”
“Hazardous? I don’t follow you, old boy.”
“Belgarion is not entirely a free agent. Even though he’s the Overlord of the West, he’s still answerable to the other kings—particularly the Alorns; and let’s be honest about it, Alorns despise Murgos. If I persuade him to accept an alliance with you, those other Alorn Kings might very well believe that I’m a traitor. I could find myself dodging their assassins for the rest of my life.”
“I find that very hard to believe, Kheldar.”
“You don’t know them. The Alorns are a fearfully unforgiving race. Even my aunt would give orders to have me hunted down if she thought that I’d betrayed a basic Alorn concept of the world. What you propose is absolutely out of the question—unless we start talking about really significant amounts of money, of course.”
“Just how significant?” Urgit asked warily.
“Well now, let’s see—” Silk pretended to consider the matter. “Naturally I’d have to abandon all my enterprises in the Kingdoms of the West. If the Alorn Kings declare me an outlaw, all my assets would be expropriated anyway. My commercial ventures are far-flung, and it’s going to take some time to establish their fair value. Then, of course, I’ll have the expense of setting up operations in a part of the world where the Alorns can’t track me down.”
“That’s simplicity in itself, Kheldar. Come to Cthol Murgos. I’ll protect you.”
“No offense, your Majesty, but Cthol Murgos doesn’t suit me. I was thinking perhaps of Mal Zeth or maybe Melcene. I could probably do quite well in Melcene.”
“Silk,” Belgarath said abruptly, “what’s the point of all this?”
“I was just—”
“I know what you were doing. You can amuse yourself some other time. Right now we’ve got a ship to catch.”
“But, Belg—” Silk caught himself abruptly with a quick sidelong glance at Urgit.
“You’re not in a position to be giving orders, old man,” the Murgo King said. Then he looked around suspiciously. “There’s something going on here that I don’t like. I don’t think anybody’s going anyplace today. I’m not going to turn any of you loose until I get to the bottom of all this.”
“Don’t be absurd, Urgit,” his mother interrupted him. “These people must leave at once.”
“Don’t interfere, mother.”
“Then stop acting like a child. Sadi must get past Rak Cthaka before the fighting starts there, and Kheldar must be on his way to Belgarion within the hour. Don’t throw away this opportunity out of sheer pique.”
Their eyes locked. Urgit’s face was suddenly angry, and his mother’s unrelenting. After a long moment, his eyes dropped. “This isn’t like you, mother,” he mumbled. “Why are you deliberately trying to humiliate me in public?”
“I’m not, Urgit. I’m just trying to bring you to your Senses. A king must always bow to reality—even if it injures his pride.” ,
He gave her a long, penetrating look. “The time isn’t really all that pressing, mother,” he said. “Sadi has time to spare, and Kheldar really doesn’t have to leave for a day or so. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you have some personal reason for not wanting me to talk to them any more.”
“Nonsense!” But her face had grown quite pale.
“You’re upset, mother,” he pressed. “Why is that?”
“She can’t tell you,” Eriond said suddenly. The young man was seated on a bench in front of a nearby window with the autumn sun streaming golden on his pale hair.
“What?”
“Your mother can’t tell you,” Eriond repeated. “There’s a secret she’s had locked in her heart since before you were born.”
“No!” Lady Tamazin gasped involuntarily. “You mustn’t!”
“What is this secret?” Urgit demanded, his eyes flickering suspiciously from face to face.
A slow flush crept up Eriond’s cheeks. “I’d really rather not say,” he replied in a slightly embarrassed tone.
Velvet had been watching the exchange with wholly absorbed fascination; even as a startling suspicion dawned in Garion’s mind, she suddenly began to laugh.
“What’s so funny, young lady?” Urgit asked irritably.
“A peculiar thought just occurred to me, your Majesty,” she replied. She turned to Lady Tamazin. “Didn’t you say that you knew Prince Kheldar’s father, my Lady?”
Tamazin’s chin lifted suddenly. Her face was still deadly pale, and she did not answer.
“How long ago would you say that was?” Velvet asked.
Tamazin’s lips remained tightly closed.
Velvet sighed, then looked at Silk. “Kheldar,” she said, “quite a long time back your father visited Rak Goska, didn’t he? I think it had something to do with some trade negotiations on behalf of King Rhodar. Do you happen to recall just how many years ago that was?”
He looked puzzled. “I don’t know,” he replied. “It must have been—” He thought about it. “I remember that my mother and I stayed at the palace in Boktor while he was gone. I think I was eight or so at the time. That would make it about forty years, I guess. What’s this all about, Liselle?”
“Interesting,” she murmured, ignoring his question. “My Lady Tamazin,” she said, “you keep telling your son that he isn’t going to go mad—but doesn’t every male in the Urga line fall prey to that hereditary affliction? What is it that makes you so positive that he’s somehow going to escape the family curse?”
Tamazin’s face grew even paler, and her lips were resolutely sealed.
“My Lord High Seneschal,” Velvet said to Oskatat, “just out of curiosity, how old is his Majesty?”
Oskatat’s face had also gone deadly pale. He looked at Lady Tamazin with a stricken expression, and then his lips also clamped shut.
“I’m thirty-nine,” Urgit snapped. “What difference does it—” Then he suddenly stopped, his eyes going very wide. He turned with a look of stunned incredulity. “Mother!” he gasped.
Sadi began to laugh.
“I just adore happy endings, don’t you?” Velvet said brightly to Ce’Nedra. She looked impishly at Silk. “Well, don’t just sit there, Kheldar. Go embrace your brother.”
The Lady Tamazin rose slowly from her chair, her face proud. “Summon the executioner, Oskatat,” she said. “I am ready.”
“No, my Lady,” he replied. “I won’t do that.”
“It’s the taw, Oskatat,” she insisted. “A Murgo woman who dishonors her husband is to be put to death immediately.”
“Oh, sit down, mother,” Urgit said, abstractedly gnawing at one of his knuckles. “This is no time for histrionics.”
Silk’s eyes were a bit wild. “You’re very quick, Liselle,” he said in a strained voice.
“Not really,” she admitted. “I should have guessed quite some time ago. You and his Majesty could almost use each other for shaving mirrors, and he negotiates almost as shrewdly as you do.” She looked at the stunned Murgo King, her cheeks dimpling. “If your Majesty ever grows weary of the throne, I’m certain that my uncle could find work for you.”
“This alters things quite a bit, Urgit,” Belgarath said. “The prejudices of your subjects are well known. If they find out that you’re not a real Murgo, it might agitate them just a bit, wouldn’t you say?”
Urgit had been staring at Silk. “Oh, just shut up, old man,” he said absently. “Let me think my way through this.”
“I’m sure that your Majesty realizes that you can rely totally on our discretion,” Sadi said smoothly.
“Of course,” Urgit replied dryly. “Just as long as I do exactly what you tell me to do.”
“Well, there’s that, naturally.”
Urgit looked at his seneschal. “Well, Oskatat,” he said, “will you now dash to the highest window of the Drojim to proclaim this to the entire city?”
“Why should I?” Oskatat shrugged. “I’ve known since you were a little boy that you were not the son of Taur Urgas.”
Lady Tamazin gasped, her hand going suddenly to her lips. “You’ve known, Oskatat? And you’ve kept my shame a secret?”
“My Lady,” he said with a stiff bow, “I would not have betrayed you even on the rack.”
She gave him a peculiar look. “And why is that, Oskatat?” she asked gently.
“You are of the House of Hagga,” he replied, “as am I. Loyalty to blood is very strong in Cthol Murgos.”
“And is that all, Oskatat? Is that the only reason you befriended me and protected my son?”
He looked her full in the face. “No, my Lady,” he said almost proudly, “it is not.”
She lowered her eyelashes.
“There were other reasons for my keeping your secret, however,” he continued, “less personal, perhaps, but just as compelling. The Urga Dynasty has brought Cthol Murgos to the brink of disaster. I saw in young Urgit the best hope for the kingdom. I might have wished him to be stronger, but his agility of mind showed much promise. In the long run a clever king is often preferable to a strong one without any brains.”
Belgarath rose from his chair. “I hate to break up these festivities,” he said, “but it’s time for us to leave. Too many secrets are starting to come out into the open.” He looked at Urgit. “Did you send that messenger to the Temple? If Agachak’s Dagashi wants to go along with us, he’s going to have to get down to the harbor at once.”
Urgit started to rise from his chair, his face angry. Then he stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Just who are you, old man?” he demanded. “You look like a vagabond, but you’ve been throwing commands around here like an emperor.”
Lady Tamazin, however, had been looking at Belgarath with eyes suddenly gone wide. Then she turned to stare in awe at Aunt Pol. “Urgit!” she said in a half-strangled whisper.
“What is it, mother?”
“Look at him. Look very closely—and then look at his daughter here.”
“His daughter? I didn’t know they were related.”
“Neither did I—until just now.” The Queen Mother looked directly at Polgara.’ ‘He is your father, isn’t he, Lady Polgara?”
Polgara straightened, and the white lock at her brow caught the candlelight. “I think this has gone far enough, father,” she said to the old man with a wry expression. “There’s not much point in trying to hide things any more, is there?”
“Old friend,” Silk said lightly, “you really ought to do something about your appearance, you know. Your description’s been noised about the world for all these centuries, so people are bound to recognize you every so often. Have you ever considered shaving off your beard?”
Urgit was staring at the old man with an expression of near-terror.
“Oh, don’t do that,” Belgarath said in disgust.
Urgit flinched.
“And don’t do that either. No matter what you’ve been told, I don’t make a practice of biting off the heads of Murgo babies just for amusement.” He tugged thoughtfully at one ear, looking first at Urgit, then at Lady Tamazin, and finally at Oskatat and Praia. “I think there’s going to have to be a small change of plans,” he said. “I believe that you people are all going to develop an irresistible craving for sea-travel—just as a precaution. You have some secrets you want kept, and so do we. This way we can sort of keep an eye on each other.”
“You’re not serious!” Urgit burst out.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I don’t like leaving loose ends behind me.”
The door opened, and Garion spun quickly, but stopped his hand halfway to his sword hilt. The Murgo officer who had just entered looked curiously at the people in the room, sensing the tension. “Uh—excuse me, your Majesty,” he said a bit warily.
Urgit looked at him, a swift flash of hope fleeting across his face. Then he cast a quick, fearful glance at Belgarath. “Yes, Colonel,” he replied in a carefully neutral voice.
“A message has just arrived from the Hierarch, your Majesty. I am directed to advise you that the Dagashi Kabach will be at the harbor within the hour.”
Durnik and Toth, moving in unison, had carefully sidled up until one of them stood on each side of Oskatat, and Polgara had crossed to Lady Tamazin’s chair.
Urgit’s face was faintly sick with fright. “Very good, Colonel,” he replied. “Thank you for your trouble.”
The officer bowed and then turned toward the door.
“Colonel,” Praia’s clear voice stopped him.
He turned back, his face respectful. “Yes, Princess?”
Velvet was moving toward the Murgo girl with a deceptive casualness. Garion inwardly flinched at the potential for sudden, awful violence that hung heavily in the air—even as he measured the distance to the unsuspecting colonel.
“Have you had any reports about the weather conditions along the coast to the south?” Praia asked calmly.
“There’s some wind, your Highness,” the colonel replied, “and there are almost always rain squalls around the tip of the peninsula.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
He bowed and quietly left the room.
Garion let out his breath explosively.
“Lord Belgarath.” Praia’s voice was crisp. “You cannot expose the Lady Tamazin to that kind of weather. I will not permit it.”
Belgarath blinked. “Will not permit?” he asked incredulously.
“Absolutely not. If you persist, I’ll scream the roof down.” She turned coolly to Velvet. “Don’t come one step closer, Liselle,” she warned. “I can scream at least twice before you can kill me, and that will bring every guard in the Drojim to this room on the run.”
“She’s right, you know, father,” Polgara said very calmly. “Tamazin could not possibly endure the rigors of the voyage.”
“Couldn’t we—”
“No, father,” she said firmly, “it’s absolutely out of the question.”
He muttered a sour curse and jerked his head at Sadi. The two of them moved down to the far end of the room for a brief, murmured conversation.
“You’ve got a knife under your doublet, haven’t you, Kheldar?” Urgit asked.
“Two, actually,” Silk replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “and one in my boot and another on a string at the back of my neck. I like to be prepared for little emergencies when they arise—but why dwell on an unpleasantness that never happened?”
“You’re a dreadful man, Kheldar.”
“I know.”
Belgarath came back from his low-voiced conference with Sadi, “Lady Tamazin,” he said.
The Queen Mother’s chin lifted. “Yes?” she replied.
“Under the circumstances, I believe we can rely on your discretion,” he said. “You’ve already proved that you know how to keep a secret. You do realize that your life—and your son’s—depends on your not revealing what you’ve learned here, don’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
“We’re going to need to leave someone ostensibly in charge here anyway, so things will work out, I suppose.”
“What you propose is quite impossible, Lord Belgarath.”
“I do wish people would stop using that word. What’s the problem now?”
“Murgos will not take orders from a woman.”
Belgarath grunted sourly. “Oh, yes. I’d forgotten about that peculiar Murgo prejudice.”
“My Lord Oskatat,” Sadi said.
The seneschal’s face was stony as he glanced briefly at Durnik and Toth standing one on each side of him.
“Wouldn’t you be the logical one to attend to the affairs of state during his Majesty’s absence?”
“It’s possible.”
“Just how far does your loyalty to your kinswoman, the Lady Tamazin, go?”
Oskatat scowled at him.
“Eriond,” Ce’Nedra said then.
“Yes?”
“Can the seneschal be trusted not to send a fleet after us as soon as we leave?”
Garion looked up sharply. He had forgotten his young friend’s peculiar ability to see directly into the minds and hearts of others.
“He won’t say anything,” Eriond replied confidently.
“Are you sure?” Ce’Nedra asked.
“Absolutely. He’d rather die than betray Tamazin.”
A dull flush crept up into the big Murgo’s scarred cheeks, and he turned his face so that he could avoid the Queen Mother’s eyes.
“All right then.” Belgarath’s tone was decisive. “Urgit will go with us.” He looked at the seneschal. “We’ll drop him off not far from Rak Cthaka. You have my word on that. You stay here with Tamazin. It’s up to you, but I’d recommend that you follow through on the plan to send reinforcements to the city by sea. Otherwise, your king may have to hold off the Malloreons all by himself.”
“What about Praia?” Ce’Nedra asked.
Belgarath scratched his ear. “There’s no real point in taking her along,” he said. “I’m sure that if she stays here,
Tamazin and Oskatat can keep her from blurting out any secrets.”
“No, my Lord Belgarath,” the slender Cthan Princess said firmly. “I will not stay behind. If his Majesty is going to Rak Cthaka, then so am I. I will not give you my word to remain silent. You have no choice but to take me along— or to kill me.”
“What’s this?” Urgit asked, puzzled.
Silk, however, had already guessed. “If you want to start running right now, Urgit, I’ll try to hold her until you get a good head start.”
“What are you talking about, Kheldar?”
“If you’re very, very lucky, my brother, Kal Zakath won’t get you, but I’m afraid that your chances of escaping this young lady are far more slender. Take my advice and start running right now.”