Durnik and Toth were seated at the table in the main part of the pavilion with Belgarath.
“Don’t ask me how he did it,” Belgarath was saying. “All he told me was that Cyradis agreed to come here when Toth summoned her.”
Durnik and Toth exchanged a few gestures. “He says he can do that,” the smith translated. “Do you want her to come here now?”
Belgarath shook his head. “No, let’s wait until Zakath is in here with us. I know how much it tires her to project her image over long distances.” He made a face. “Beldin suggests that we let the conversation get to a climax before we send for her, Beldin has urges in the direction of melodrama sometimes. We’ve all talked to him about it over the years, but he backslides from time to time. Good morning, Gar-ion.”
Garion nodded briefly to each of them, then sat at the table. “What’s Cyradis going to be able to do that we can’t?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” Belgarath replied. “We all know that she has a peculiar effect on Zakath, though. He tends to lose his grip on things every time he sees her. Beldin wouldn’t tell me exactly what he’s got in mind, but he sounded disgustingly pleased with himself. Do you feel up to some theatricality this morning?”
“Not really, but I suppose I can manage something.”
“You’re supposed to goad Zakath a little—not too much, mind, but push him into making some threats. That’s when we’re supposed to call Cyradis. Don’t be too obvious about it. Sort of lead him into it gradually.” The old man looked at Toth. “Keep your eyes on me when Garion and Zakath start arguing,” he instructed. “I’ll cover my mouth and cough. That’s when we’ll need your mistress.”
Toth nodded.
“Are we going to tell the others?” Garion asked.
Belgarath squinted. “No,” he decided. “Their reactions might be more natural if they don’t know what’s going on.”
Durnik smiled slightly. “I’d say that Beldin isn’t the only one with a flair for the dramatic.”
“I used to be a professional storyteller, Durnik,” Belgarath reminded him. “I can play an audience like a lute.”
After the others had awakened and breakfast had been served, General Atesca came into the tent. “His Imperial Majesty instructs that you make ready. You’ll be departing for Mal Zeth within the hour.”
Garion moved quickly to head that off. “Tell his Imperial
Majesty that we’re not going anyplace until we finish the conversation we started yesterday.”
Atesca looked momentarily startled, then recovered. “People do not speak so to the Emperor, your Majesty,” he declared.
“He might find it refreshing, then.”
Atesca drew himself up. “The Emperor is otherwise occupied at the moment.”
Garion leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “We’ll wait,” he said flatly. “That will be all, General.”
Atesca’s face grew tight, then he bowed stiffly, turned, and went out without another word.
“Garion!” Ce’Nedra gasped, “We’re at Zakath’s mercy, and you were being deliberately rude.”
“He hasn’t been overly polite to me.” Garion shrugged. “I told him we weren’t going back to Mal Zeth, and he ignored me. It appears that sometimes it takes a bit to get his attention.”
Polgara was looking narrowly at Garion. Then she turned to Belgarath. “What are you two up to, father?” she asked.
He winked at her, but did not reply.
It took Kal Zakath approximately two minutes to arrive. He burst into the tent with his eyes wild and his face beet-red. “What do you mean?” he almost screamed at Garion.
“What do you mean, what do I mean?”
“I gave you an imperial command!”
“So? I’m not one of your subjects.”
“This is intolerable!”
“You’ll get used to it. You should know by now that I always do what I set out to do. I thought I’d made that point when we left Mal Zeth. I told you we were going to Ashaba, and that’s exactly what we did.”
With some effort, the Emperor got himself under control. *4I was trying to protect you and your friends, you idiot,” he said from between clenched teeth. “You were riding directly into Mengha’s path.”
“We didn’t have any particular problem with Mengha.”
“Atesca told me that you’d killed him. I didn’t get the details, though.” Zakath seemed to have recovered his composure to some degree.
“Actually, I’m not the one who did it. Margravine Liselle killed him.”
Zakath looked with one raised eyebrow at the dimpled Velvet.
“His Majesty is perhaps overgenerous,” she murmured with a little curtsy. “I had some help.”
“Help? From whom?”
“Zith, actually. Mengha was very surprised.”
“Will someone please tell me what happened without all this clever repartee?”
“It was really fairly simple, your Majesty,” Silk said smoothly. “We were having a little disagreement with the Chandim and some others in Torak’s old throne room at Ashaba. Mengha was shouting orders to his men, and Liselle pulled Zith out of her bodice and threw the little green darling right into his face. Zith nipped him a few times, he stiffened up like a plank, and he was dead before he hit the floor.”
“You don’t actually carry that snake down the front of your dress, do you?” Zakath asked Velvet incredulously. “How can you?”
“It took a bit of getting used to,” she admitted, placing one modest hand on her bodice.
“It didn’t really happen that way, did it?”
“Prince Kheldar’s description of what took place was fairly accurate, your Imperial Majesty,” Sadi assured him. “Zith was very put out. I think she was asleep when the Margravine threw her at Mengha, and being awakened suddenly always makes her cross.”
“As it turns out, Zakath,” Belgarath said, “Mengha was really one of the Chandim and Urvon’s chief underling.”
“Yes, so Atesca told me. That puts Urvon behind what was going on in Karanda, doesn’t it?”
“Only marginally,” Belgarath replied. “Urvon isn’t sane enough to be behind much of anything. He’s completely under the domination of a Demon Lord named Nahaz, and consorting with demons usually unhinges a man’s mind. Urvon’s totally convinced that he’s a God now.”
“If he’s that mad, who’s running his campaign here? Atesca said that his outflanking of the Darshivan army and their elephant cavalry was a stroke of tactical genius.”
“It’s my guess that Nahaz is more or less in command, and Demon Lords pay very little attention to casualties. They also have ways of making people run very fast.”
“I’ve never gone to war with a Demon Lord before,” Zakath mused. “What’s his objective?”
“The Sardion,” Garion replied. “Everybody wants to get his hands on it—me included.”
“To raise a new God over Angarak?”
“That’s its purpose, I suppose.”
“I don’t think I’d like that. You liberated us from Torak, and I don’t propose to see his replacement enthroned at either Mal Zeth or Mal Yaska. Angarak doesn’t need a God. It has me. Who’s your candidate?”
“I don’t know yet. They haven’t told me.”
“What am I going to do with you, Belgarion?” Zakath sighed.
“You’re going to let us go so we can do what we’re supposed to do. You might not like the idea of a New God, but I think you’ll find my choice a lot more preferable to anything Zandramas or Urvon or Agachak might come up with.”
“Agachak?”
“The Hierarch of Rak Urga. He’s here in Mallorea as well.”
“I’ll deal with him, too, then. That still leaves you, I’m afraid.”
“I just told you what to do about me.”
A faint smile touched Zakath’s lips. “I don’t think I really like your proposal. You’re a little undependable.”
“What’s your goal in all this?” Belgarath asked him.
“I’m going to restore order in Mallorea, even if I have to depopulate whole districts to do it. Since this Sardion is the thing that’s got everyone so agitated, I’d guess that my best course would be to find it and destroy it.”
“Good,” Garion said, rising to his feet. “Let’s go, then.”
“Oh, no, your Majesty.” Zakath’s tone was once again coldly imperial. “I don’t trust you any more. I made that mistake once already. I can eliminate at least one of the people trying to reach the Sardion by sending you and your friends back to Mal Zeth under heavy guard. Then I can concentrate on looking for the Sardion myself.”
“Where do you plan to start looking?” Garion asked him bluntly. The conversation, he decided, had moved around to the point where the goading Belgarath had suggested seemed to be in order. “You don’t even know what you’re looking for and you haven’t got the faintest idea of where to start. You’re just floundering around.”
“I don’t think I care for that, Belgarion.”
“That’s too bad. The truth is sometimes painful, isn’t it?”
“And I suppose you do know where it is?”
“lean find out.”
“If you can, so can I, and I’m sure you’ll give me a few clues.”