“Did you ever see him?”
“Once. He was a strange-looking fellow. His eyes were absolutely colorless.”
There was a long pause, and then Silk said, “That clears up a few other things, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe so,” Garion said, “but it still doesn’t answer my main question. We know who Naradas is working for now. We know how Zandramas got to Cherek and escaped from the Isle of the Winds with my son, but what I need to know is where the trail we’re following is going to lead.”
Sadi shrugged. “Rak Verkat.”
“How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Silk asked him.
“Sariss hasn’t been in power long enough to weed out the more untrustworthy of his underlings. I found one who was open to the notion of private enterprise. Zandramas has to be in Mallorea with Prince Geran by this coming spring, and the route must be by way of Rak Verkat.”
“Wouldn’t it be shorter to sail from Rak Cthan?” Silk asked.
Sadi looked at him with a faintly surprised expression. “I thought you knew,” he said. “Kal Zakath has put a very handsome price on the head of Zandramas, and the Malloreon reserves are concentrated at Rak Hagga. If Zandramas tried to go through Hagga to reach Cthan, all those troops would drop whatever they were doing to go head-hunting. The only safe port for Zandramas to sail from is Rak Verkat.”
“Was this underling you bribed reliable?” Silk demanded. “Of course not. As soon as he had finished telling me all this, he had planned to turn me in for the reward—dead, naturally, so he didn’t really have any reason to lie to me, and he was too stupid to make up a coherent lie anyway.” The eunuch smiled bleakly. “I know of a certain plant, though. It’s a very reliable plant. The man was telling me the absolute truth. As a matter of fact, he kept telling me the truth long after it had begun to bore me. Sariss provided Zandramas with an escort across Nyissa and detailed maps of the shortest route to the Isle of Verkat.”
“Was that all the fellow said?” Garion asked. “Oh, no,” Sadi replied. “He was busy confessing to me that he had cheated on an examination in school when I finally had Issus cut his throat. I can only deal with so much truth in one day.”
“All right,” Garion said, ignoring that, “Zandramas is going to the Isle of Verkat. How does that help us?”
“The route Zandramas will have to follow will be roundabout—because of that reward I mentioned. We, on the other hand, can go straight across southern Cthol Murgos to the Isle. It will save us months.”
“That route goes right through the war zone,” Silk protested.
“That’s no particular problem. I can take you directly through to Verkat without any hindrance from either the Murgos or the Malloreons.”
“How do you propose to manage that?”
“When I was younger, I was engaged in the slave trade in Cthol Murgos. I know all the routes and I know whom to bribe and whom to avoid. Slavers are useful to both sides in the war between the Murgos and Malloreons, so they’re allowed to move around freely. All we have to do is dress as slave traders, and no one will interfere with us.”
“What’s to keep you from selling us to the Grolims as soon as we cross the border?” Silk asked bluntly. “Self-interest.” Sadi shrugged. “Grolims are an ungrateful lot. If I sell you to them, it’s quite likely that they’ll turn around and sell me to Salmissra. I don’t think I’d like that at all.”
“Is she really that angry with you?” Garion asked.
“Irritated,” Sadi said. “A snake doesn’t really get angry. I’ve heard, however, that she wants to bite me personally. That’s a great honor, of course, but one I’d prefer to forgo.”
The door to the hidden room clicked open, and Droblek looked in. “Issus is back,” he said.
“Good,” Belgarath replied. “I want to get back across the river before morning.”
The one-eyed man came in carrying the case Sadi had described. It was a flat, square box a couple of feet across and several inches thick. “What’s in this, Sadi?” he asked. “It gurgles.” He took the case.
“Be careful man!” Sadi exclaimed. “Some of those bottles are fragile.”
“What’s this?” Belgarath demanded.
“A bit of this, a bit of that,” Sadi replied evasively.
“Drugs?”
“And poisons and antidotes—a few aphrodisiacs, an anesthetic or two, a fairly effective truth drug—and Zith.”
“What is Zith?”
“Zith is a who, Ancient One, not a what. I never go anywhere without her.” He opened the case and lovingly took out a small earthenware bottle, securely corked and with a series of small holes encircling its neck. “Would you hold this, please?” he said, handing the bottle to Silk. “I want to make sure Issus didn’t break anything.” He began to carefully examine the row after row of little vials nested in velvet-lined pockets inside the case.
Silk looked curiously at the bottle, then took hold of the cork.
“I really wouldn’t do that, Prince Kheldar,” Sadi advised. “You might get a nasty surprise.”
“What’s in here?” Silk asked, shaking the bottle.
“Please, Kheldar. Zith becomes vexed when people shake her.” Sadi closed the case, set it aside, and took the bottle from Silk. “There, there,” he said to it in a crooning voice. “It’s nothing to be alarmed about, dear. I’m right here and I won’t let him disturb you any more.”
From inside the bottle came a peculiar purring sound.
“How did you get a cat in there?” Garion asked.
“Oh, Zith isn’t a cat, Belgarion,” Sadi assured him. “Here, I’ll show you.” Carefully he worked the cork out and laid the bottle on its side on the table. “You can come out now, dear,” he crooned to it.
Nothing happened,
“Come along now, Zith. Don’t be shy.”
Then a small, bright-green snake slithered obediently from the mouth of the bottle. She had gleaming yellow eyes and a vibrant red stripe running down her back from nose to tail. Her forked tongue flickered out, touching Sadi’s outstretched hand.
Silk recoiled with a sharp intake of breath.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Sadi said, gently stroking the little snake’s head with one finger. The snake began to purr contentedly, then raised her head, fixed Silk with a cold, reptilian eye, and hissed spitefully at him.
“I do believe that you offended her, Prince Kheldar,” Sadi said. “Maybe you should stay away from her for a while.”
“Don’t worry,” Silk said fervently, backing away. “Is she venomous?”
“She’s the deadliest little snake in the world, aren’t you, dear?” Sadi stroked the snake’s head again. “Also the rarest. Her species is highly prized in Nyissa because they’re the most intelligent of all reptiles. They’re friendly—even affectionate—and, of course, the purr is absolutely delightful.”
“But she does bite,” Silk added.
“Only people who irritate her—and never a friend. All you have to do is feed her and keep her warm and show her a little affection now and then, and she’ll follow you around like a puppy.”
“Not me, she won’t.”
“Sadi,” Belgarath said, pointing at the case, “what’s the idea of all this? I don’t need a walking apothecary shop trailing along behind me.”
Sadi held up one hand. “Murgos aren’t really very interested in money, Ancient One, but there are people I’ll have to bribe when we go across Cthol Murgos. Some of them have picked up certain habits. That case is going to be worth more to us than a pack horse loaded down with gold.”
Belgarath grunted. “Just keep your face out of it. I don’t want your head full of smoke at a crucial moment—and keep your snake under control.”
“Of course, Belgarath.”
The old sorcerer turned to Issus. “Can you get a bigger boat? We need to get back across the river, and that one of yours won’t hold all of us.”
Issus nodded.
“Not just yet, father,” Polgara said. “I’m going to need him for a while.”
“Pol, we need to get back on the other side of the river before dawn.”
“I won’t be too long, father, but I have to go to the palace.”
“The palace?”
“Zandramas went to Cherek—where no Angarak has been allowed since the days of Bear-shoulders. Salmissra arranged that and she also engineered the escape from the Isle of the Winds after the abduction of Ce’Nedra’s baby. I want to know why.”
“We’re a bit pressed for time, Polgara. Can’t this wait?”
“I don’t think so, father. I think we need to know if there were any other arrangements. I’d rather not be surprised by a battalion or so of Nyissan troops lurking in the jungle along the trail we’re following.”
He frowned. “You might be right.”
“You’re going to the palace?” Garion asked her.
“I must, dear.”
“All right,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Then I’m going with you.”