The silvery-haired Earl of Seline leaned back in his chair, “I think perhaps that all of these suspicions -totally unfounded, of course- stem from that letter the assassins presented when they came here. Might it not be the quickest way to proceed to begin by examining that document?”
“Not a bad idea,” Garion said. He turned to Kail. “Could we see the letter?”
“Ah -l- Ancient Belgarath has it, Sire,” Kail said.
“Oh -that’s right,” Belgarath said. “I’d almost forgotten.” He reached inside his gray tunic, drew out a folded parchment, and handed it to the old Sendarian nobleman.
“It looks more or less in order,” the Earl mused after he had read it.
“Let me see that,” Anheg demanded. He held the document distastefully, scowling as he read. “That’s my signature, all right”, he admitted, “and my seal, but I certainly didn’t write this.”
Garion had a thought. “Do you always read everything they bring you to sign?” he asked. “I know that there are times when they bring me whole stacks of things to sign, and I just write my name at the bottom of each one. What I’m getting at is -could someone have slipped this into a pile of other documents so that you signed it without knowing what it said?”
Anheg shook his head. “That happened to me once,” he said. “Now I read everything before I sign it. Not only that, I dictate every document I put my name to. That way I know it says exactly what I want it to say.” He thrust the letter toward Garion. “Look at this,” he said, pointing at the second paragraph. “Foreasmuch as trade is the lifeblood of both our kingdoms-‘ and so on. Blast it, Garion! I’ve never used the word ‘foreasmuch’ in my entire life.”
“How do we reconcile this, then?” the Earl of Seline asked. “We have authenticated the signature and seal. King Anheg declares that he not only reads everything he signs but that he also dictates every letter and proclamation personally. And yet we find textual inconsistencies in the document.”
“Seline,” Anheg said acidly, “did you ever dabble in law? You sound a great deal like a lawyer.”
The Earl laughed. “Merely trying to be concise, your Majesty,” he said.
“Ihate lawyers.”
The damning letter was central to the discussions for the remainder of the day, but nothing was resolved. Garion went wearily to bed that night as confused and filled with doubts as he had been when they started.
He slept badly and woke late. As he lay in the canopied royal bed, still trying to sort out his thoughts, he could hear voices coming from the adjoining room. Almost idly he began to identify those voices. Ce’Nedra was there, of course, and Aunt Pol. Queen Layla’s giddy laugh made her easily identifiable. Nerina and Ariana, because of their Mimbrate dialect, were as easy. There were others as well, but the individuality of their voices was lost in the general chatter.
Garion slowly sat up, feeling almost as if he had not slept at all. He pushed the down-filled comforter aside and swung his feet to the floor. He did not really want to face this day.
He sighed and stood up. Briefly he looked at the solid black doublet and hose he had worn the day before, then shook his head. To continue to dress in mourning might in some obscure way be taken as a silent accusation. That must be avoided at all costs. The situation involving King Anheg was so delicate at the moment that the slightest hint could push it into crisis. He crossed to the heavy wardrobe where he kept his clothes, selected one of his customary blue doublets, and began to dress.
The conversation in the adjoining room broke off suddenly at the sound of a knock on the door.
“Am I welcome here?” he heard Queen Islena ask in a subdued voice.
“Of course you are,” Aunt Pol replied.
“I had thought that-” Islena faltered, then began again. “Considering everything, I had thought that perhaps it might be better if I stayed away.”
“Nonsense,” Queen Layla declared. “Do come in, Islena.” There was a general murmur of agreement.
“I swear to you all that my husband is innocent of this atrocity,” Islena said in a clear voice.
“No one is saying that he was not, Islena,” Aunt Pol replied quietly.
“Not openly perhaps, but there are ugly suspicions everywhere.”
“I’m certain that Garion and the others will get to the bottom of it,” Ce’Nedra said firmly. “Then everything will be cleared up.”
“My poor Anheg did not sleep at all last night,” Islena told them sadly. ” I know that he looks brutish, but inside he’s really very sensitive. This has hurt him deeply. Once he even cried.”
“Our lords will requite the tears thy husband hath shed upon the body of the foul villain who lurks behind this monstrous act.” the Baroness Nerina declared. “And the foolish men who doubt his true fidelity shall be covered with shame for their lack of trust, once the truth is out.”
“I can only hope that you’re right,” Islena said.
“This is a mournful topic, ladies,” Garion’s cousin Adara told the rest of them, “and it has nothing to do with the real reason we’re all here.”
” And what reason is that, gentle Adara?” Ariana asked.
“The baby, Ariana,” Adara replied. “We’ve come to see your baby again, Ce’Nedra. I’m sure he’s not still sleeping, so why don’t you bring him in here so that we can all fuss over him?”
Ce’Nedra laughed. “I thought you’d never ask.”
The council meeting began about midmorning. The kings and their advisors gathered once more in a blue-draped council chamber. The golden sunlight of a late summer morning streamed in through the windows and a gentle sea breeze stirred the draperies. There was no particular formality in these sessions, and the monarchs and the others lounged comfortably in the velvet-upholstered chairs scattered about the room.
“I really don’t think we’ll accomplish too much by chewing on that letter for another day,” Belgarath began. “Let’s agree that it’s obviously a forgery of some kind and move on.” He looked at Kail. “Did your father have any enemies here on the island?” he asked, “Someone wealthy enough and powerful enough to hire Cherek assassins?”
Kail frowned. “No one can go through life without stepping on a few toes, Ancient One,” he replied, “but I don’t think anybody was holding that kind of grudge.”
“In truth, my friend,” Mandorallen told him, “some men, when they feel that they have been offended, will nurture their rancor in silence and with dissembling guise conceal their enmity until opportunity doth present itself to revenge themselves. The history of Arendia is replete with stories of such acts.”
“It’s a possibility.” King Fulrach agreed. ” And it might be better if we start close to home before we begin to go further afield.”
“A list might be useful,” Javelin suggested. “If we write down the name of every man on the Isle of the Winds whom Brand might possibly have offended, we can start eliminating them. Once we have the list narrowed down, we can start investigating. If the man behind this is a Rivan, he’d either have had to visit Cherek or had some contact with Chereks sometime in the recent past.”
It took the remainder of the morning to compile the list.
Kail sent for certain documents, and they all considered each of the decisions Brand had made during the past five years.
Since the Warder had functioned as the kingdom’s chief-magistrate, there had been many decisions and usually a winner and a loser in each case.
After lunch, they began the winnowing process, discarding the names of those men without sufficient wealth or power to be able to obtain the services of paid assassins.
“It’s narrowing down a bit,” Javelin said as he struck off another name. He held up the list. “We’ve got this down to almost manageable proportions.”
There was a respectful knock on the door. One of the guards posted there spoke briefly with someone outside, then came over to Barak and murmured something to him. The big red-bearded man nodded, rose, and followed him from the room.
“How about this one?” Javelin asked Kail, pointing at another name.
Kail scratched at one cheek. “I don’t think so,” he replied.
“It was a dispute over land,” Javelin pointed out, “and some people get very intense where land is concerned.”
“It was only a pasture,” Kail recalled, “and not a very big one. The man has more land than he can keep track of anyway.”
“Why did he go to the law, then?”
“It was the other man who brought the matter to my father.”
Barak came back into the room. “Anheg,” he said to his cousin, “Greldik’s here. He’s got something fairly important to tell you.”
Anheg started to rise, then looked around. ” Have him come in here,” he said shortly. “I don’t want anybody thinking that I’ve got any secrets.”