“Queen Ce’Nedra fell ill during our journey, your Majesty.” Atesca advised him. “Lady Polgara is attending her.”
“Ill? Is it serious?”
“It’s difficult to say at this point, your Imperial Majesty, “ Sadi replied unctuously, “but we have given her certain medications, and I have every confidence in Lady Polgara’s skill.”
Zakath looked at Garion. “You should have sent word on ahead, Belgarion. I have a healer on my personal staff ‑a Dalasian woman with remarkable gifts. I’ll send her to the Queen’s chambers at once. Our first concern must be your wife’s health.”
“Thank you,” Garion replied with genuine gratitude.
Zakath touched a bellpull and spoke briefly with the servant who responded immediately to his summons.
“Please,” the Emperor said then, “seat yourselves. I have no particular interest in ceremony.”
As the guards hastily brought chairs for them, the cat sleeping in Zakath’s lap half opened her golden eyes and looked around at them. She rose to her paws, arched her back, and yawned. Then she jumped heavily to the floor with an audible grunt and waddled over to sniff at Eriond’s fingers. With a faintly amused look, Zakath watched his obviously pregnant cat make her matronly way across the carpet. “You’ll note that my cat has been unfaithful to me ‑again.” He sighed in mock resignation. “It happens fairly frequently, I’m afraid, and she never seems to feel the slightest guilt about it.”
The cat jumped up into Eriond’s lap, nestled down, and began to purr contentedly.
“You’ve grown, boy,” Zakath said to the young man.
“Have they taught you how to talk as yet?” .
“I’ve picked up a few words, Zakath,” Eriond said in his clear voice.
“I know the rest of you ‑by reputation at least,” Zakath said then. “Goodman Durnik and I met on the plains of Mishrak ac Thull, and of course I’ve heard of the Margravine Liselle of Drasnian Intelligence and of Prince Kheldar, who strives to become the richest man in the world.”
Velvet’s graceful curtsy of acknowledgment was not quite so florid as Silk’s grandiose bow. .
“And here, of course,” the Emperor continued, “is Sadi, Chief Eunuch in the palace of Queen Salmissra.”
Sadi bowed with fluid grace. “I must say that your Majesty is remarkably well informed,” he said in his contralto voice. “You have read us all like an open book.”
“My chief of intelligence tries to keep me informed, Sadi. He may not be as gifted as the inestimable Javelin of Boktor, but he knows about most of what’s going on in this part of the world. He’s mentioned that huge fellow over in the corner, but so far he hasn’t been able to discover his name.”
“He’s called Toth,” Eriond supplied. “He’s a mute, so we have to do his talking for him.”
“And a Dalasian besides,” Zakath noted. “A very curious circumstance.”
Garion had been closely watching this man. Beneath the polished, urbane exterior, he sensed a kind of subtle probing. The idle greetings, which seemed to be no more than a polite means of putting them at their ease, had a deeper motive behind them. In some obscure way he sensed that Zakath was somehow testing each of them.
The emperor straightened then. “You have an oddly assorted company with you, Belgarion,” he said, “and you’re a long way from home. I’m curious about your reasons for being here in Cthol Murgos.”
“I’m afraid that’s a private matter, Zakath.”
One of the Emperor’s eyebrows rose slightly. “ Under the circumstances, that’s hardly a satisfactory answer, Belgarion. I can’t really take the chance that you’re allied with Urgit.”
“Would you accept my word that I’m not?”
“Not until I know a bit more about your visit to Rak Urga. Urgit left there quite suddenly ‑apparently in your company‑ and reappeared just as suddenly on the plains of Morcth, where he and a young woman led his troops out of an ambush I’d gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange. You’ll have to admit that’s a peculiar set of circumstances.”
“Not when you look at it from a practical standpoint, “ Belgarath said. “The decision to take Urgit with us was mine. He’d found out who we are, and I didn’t want an army of Murgos on our heels. Murgos aren’t too bright, but they can be an inconvenience at times.
Zakath looked surprised. “He was your prisoner?”
Belgarath shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”
The Emperor laughed rather wryly. “You could have wrung almost any concession from me if you had just delivered him into my hands, you know. Why did you let
him go?”
“We didn’t need him anymore,” Garion replied. “We’d reached the shores of Lake Cthaka, so he really wasn’t any kind of threat to us.”
Zakath’s expression narrowed slightly. “ A few other things happened as well, I think,” he observed. “Urgit has always been a notorious coward, wholly under the domination of the Grolim Agachak and of his father’s generals. But he didn’t seem very timid while he was extricating his troops from the trap I’d laid for them, and all the reports filtering out of Rak Urga seem to suggest that he’s actually behaving like a king. Did you by any chance have anything to do with that?”
“It’s possible, I suppose,” Garion answered. “Urgit and I talked a few times, and I told him what he was doing wrong.”
Zakath tapped one forefinger against his chin, and his eyes were shrewd. “You may not have made a lion of him, Belgarion,” he said, “but at least he’s no longer a rabbit.” A chill smile touched the Mallorean’s lips. “In a way, I’m rather glad about that. I’ve never taken much satisfaction in hunting rabbits.” He shaded his eyes with one hand, although the light in the room was not particularly bright. “But what I can’t understand is how you managed to spirit him out of the Drojim Palace and away from the city. He has whole regiments of bodyguards.”
“You’re overlooking something, Zakath,” Belgarath said to him. “We have certain advantages that aren’t available to others.”
“Sorcery, you mean? Is it really all that reliable?”
“I’ve had some luck with it from time to time.”
Zakath’s eyes had become suddenly intent. “ They tell me that you’re five thousand years old, Belgarath. Is that true?”
“Seven, actually ‑or a little more. Why do you ask?”
“In all those years, hasn’t it ever occurred to you simply to seize power? You could have made yourself king of the world, you know.”
Belgarath looked amused. “Why would I want to?” he asked.
“All men want power. It’s human nature.”
“Has all your power really made you happy?”
“It has certain satisfactions.”
“Enough to make up for all the petty distractions that go with it?”
“I can endure those. At least I’m in a position where no one tells me what to do.”
“No one tells me what to do either, and I’m not saddled with all those tedious responsibilities.” Belgarath straightened. “All right, Zakath, shall we get to the point? What are your intentions concerning us?”
“I haven’t really decided that yet.” The Emperor looked around at them. “I presume that we can all be civilized about the present situation?”
“How do you mean, civilized?” Garion asked him.
“I’ll accept your word that none of you will try to escape or do anything rash. I’m aware that you and a number of your friends have certain specialized talents. I don’t want to be forced to take steps to counteract them.”
“We have some rather pressing business,” Garion replied carefully, “so we can only delay for just so long.
For the time being, however, I think we can agree to be reasonable about things.”
“Good. We’ll have to talk later, you and I, and come to know one another. I’ve had comfortable quarters prepared for you and your friends, and I know that you’re anxious about your wife. Now, I hope you’ll excuse me, but I have some of those tedious responsibilities Belgarath mentioned to attend to.”
Although the house was very large, it was not, strictly speaking, a palace. It appeared that the Murgo governors‑general of Hagga who had ordered it built had not shared the grandiose delusions which afflicted the rulers of Urga, and so the building was more functional than ornate.
“I hope you’ll excuse me,” General Atesca said to them when they had emerged from the audience chamber. “I’m obliged to deliver a full report to his Majesty ‑about various matters‑ and then I must return immediately to Rak Verkat.” He looked at Garion. “The circumstances under which we met were not the happiest, your Majesty.” he said, “but I hope you won’t think too unkindly of me.” He bowed rather stiffly and then left them in the care of a member of the Emperor’s staff The man who led them down a long, dark‑paneled hallway toward the center of the house was obviously not an Angarak. He had not the angular eyes nor the stiff, bleak‑faced arrogance that marked the men of that race.