I spoke with them briefly, and then I left Erat and went north to
Boktor to speak with Hunter. The position, if you can call it that,
was held at that time by an obscure filing clerk in the intelligence
headquarters, a nondescript fellow named Khonar.
“I need Prince Kheldar,” I told him abruptly.
“Where is he?”
Khonar carefully laid down the sheaf of documents he’d been reading.
“May I ask why. Ancient One?”
“No, you may not. Where’s Silk?”
“In Tol Honeth, Holy One. He’s working for Javelin at the moment.”
He pursed his lips.
“This is Kheldar’s first assignment in the field, you know. He’s not
very experienced.”
“Is he any good?”
“We have rather high hopes for him–as soon as he settles down. If
it’s important, I could go with you. I’m the best, after all.”
“No. I think I’ll need you here. Silk’s the one I need. There are
reasons.”
“Oh,” he said.
“One of those things.”
“Exactly. Have you heard anything at all about Asharak the Murgo
lately?”
“He was in Arendia no more than a week ago, Ancient One. An agent of
ours saw him at the Great Fair.”
I heaved a very large sigh of relief. At least Chamdar wasn’t poking
around in Sendaria.
“Which way did he go from the fair?”
“Southeast–toward the Tolnedran Mountains. Our agent reports that he
seemed a little nervous about something.”
“I can imagine,” I said grimly.
“He’s done something that offended me. I want to talk with him about
it, and he’d rather avoid that conversation–since it’s very likely to
involve my hanging his entrails on a fence someplace.”
“That’s fairly graphic.” Nothing startles Hunter.
“If any of my people come across him, do you want them to kill him?”
“No. I’ll do that myself. Just locate him for me, if you can. Your
people are good, but they’re no match for Asharak.”
His look grew shrewd.
“You’re being inconsistent. Ancient One. First you ask specifically
for a man of twenty or so–no more than a year out of the academy–and
then you say that my most experienced agents are no match for the man
you’re after.”
“Consistency’s the defense of small minds, Khonar. Get word to your
people in Arendia and Tolnedra. I’ll be there long before your
messages arrive, and I’ll have a look around first. Then I’ll want
every scrap of information about Asharak that they can lay their hands
on.”
He shrugged.
“If that’s the way you want it, Ancient One.”
“It is. I’ll be leaving now–and don’t waste time trying to have me
followed.”
He counterfeited an innocent look.
“Would I do that, Holy Belgarath?”
“You wouldn’t be doing your job if you didn’t.”
I left Boktor that same afternoon, rather ostentatiously going
southwest along the Great North Road, and I’m positive that at least
one of Hunter’s spies was following me. As soon as it grew dark,
however, he lost my trail–unless he knew how to fly.
Although it was midwinter, the weather had cleared over the snow-choked
mountains, and I flew over the southeastern edge of Sendaria and went
on to Prolgu to advise the Gorim that the Godslayer had come.
Then I flew on to the Great Fair on the plains of Mimbre to confer with
Hunter’s chief agent there, a lean Drasnian named Talvar.
Just by way of clarification here, Hunter’s always been the most secret
of Drasnian intelligence agents, and he–or she–frequently has a
little private agency–a kind of secret service within a secret
service.
Drasnians are like that. They absolutely love secrets.
“We think this Asharak fellow might have doubled back, Ancient One,”
Talvar advised me.
“When he left here, he was going southeasterly toward the Tolnedran
Mountains, but there are some things going on in Vo Mimbre that seem to
have his distinctive footprints all over them.”
“Oh?”
“There’s a Murgo trade delegation there, and they’re spending a lot of
money bribing assorted Mimbrate knights. Mimbrates aren’t very bright,
and they usually go into debt in order to make an impression on their
fellows. Asharak’s always been very free with his gold. When you
start seeing blood-red coins, you know where they’re coming from. It
may be something he set in motion in the past, but I personally don’t
think so.
The sudden influx of Murgo gold suggests a new ploy. Track the money,
Ancient One. You’ll get more information from that than from anything
else.”
“You’re a Drasnian to the bone, Talvar,” I told him.
“That’s why Hunter put me here, Ancient One. Anyway, the whole thrust
of all of this is to subvert the crown prince, who’s probably deeper in
debt than anybody else in all of Arendia.” He made a face.
“If I weren’t working for my government, I could make a fortune down
here. Some of these Mimbrate idiots would pay exorbitant interest just
to clear their debts.”
“Keep your eyes on what we’re doing, Talvar,” I told him.
“Don’t get sidetracked. Make money on your own time, not on mine. Does
Asharak have his hands around the crown prince’s heart yet?”
“Probably not. Young Prince Korodullin still has a sense of honor,
despite all his debts. He’s resisting the Murgo blandishments, but I
think he’s starting to waver. He needs somebody to stiffen his
backbone.”
“I think I know just the man. Get me some names, Talvar. I need to
know just who these bought-and-paid-for Mimbrate knights are. I’ll
send the man I’ve got in mind to Vo Mimbre to deal with the matter.”
“Now I know why they call you Holy Belgarath,” he said.
“Don’t mix
“Holy” and “”money,” Talvar. You’ll get in trouble if you do.”
Then I went on to Vo Ebor, where Mandorallen was in training under the
tutelage of the baron. The baron of Vo Ebor had recently married a
young noblewoman, Nerina by name. The baron’s duties were such that he
had very little time for his new wife, but there was a handsome and
honorable young knight handy who sort of filled in for him–nothing
improper, you understand, but it did create an interesting situation.
I got straight to the point when I arrived.
“Just how good is your pupil, my Lord Baron?” I asked the older man.
“He doth far exceed our expectations. Ancient One,” the baron
replied.
“I doubt that any knight in all Arendia is his match.”
“Good.” I looked at Mandorallen.
“I want you to go to Vo Mimbre,”
I said.
“There are some people there who need chastisement. They’ve been
taking money from the Murgos to lead Prince Korodullin astray.
Make them stop. The Drasnian ambassador to the old King’s court will
know who they are. Issue a few challenges and break a few bones. Try
not to kill too many of them in the process, though. There are things
you have to do later on, and I don’t want you embroiled in any blood
feuds when the time comes for you to do them.”
“I shall strive to mine utmost to do as thou hast commanded me, Holy
Belgarath,” the young man replied.
“My lance, my sword, and my good right arm stand ever at thy service,
and, forasmuch as I am–as all the world doth know–the mightiest
knight on life, I doubt not that the overthrow of these miscreant
knights shall be but a light task, which I gladly undertake, and my
skill and my prowess are such that, barring accident, I may confidently
assure thee that their overthrow shall not do them permanent injury.”
Lord, Mandorallen can be windy once he dives headlong into a
sentence!
As I recall, though, the face of the Baroness Nerina positively glowed
at his modest announcement of his invincibility. Arendish ladies are
like that.
I never did get the full details of the scheme Chamdar had set in
motion at Vo Mimbre. I suppose it might have been nothing more than a
delaying tactic to keep me from snapping at his tail feathers.
Chamdar’d seen my face at Annath, and I’m sure that he’d have done
almost anything to avoid seeing it at close range again.
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 on 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 eroded my good manners
noticeably.
“He shows a certain amount of promise, Ancient One,” Javelin replied.