Urgit’s face grew even more disconsolate. “I hadn’t considered that,” he admitted. “I think you and your people had better get ready to leave here immediately. I’ll send word to the Temple and tell Agachak that the plans have changed.”
The door opened. Oskatat entered, and at his side was the Murgo officer who had so rudely demanded Urgit’s signature the previous day.
“Ah, General Kradak,” Urgit greeted the officer with an obviously feigned joviality, “so good of you to join us. You’ve heard about what’s going on in the south?”
The general nodded shortly. “The situation is grave,” he said. “Rak Gorut and Rak Cthaka are in great peril.”
“What do you advise, General?” Urgit asked.
“There’s nothing to advise,” Kradak said. “We’ll have to accept the fact that Gorut and Cthaka are lost and concentrate our efforts on holding Urga, Morcth, and Araga.”
“General, that only leaves three of the nine military districts of Cthol Murgos under my control. Zakath is eating my kingdom one bite at a time.”
The general shrugged. “We cannot reach Rak Cthaka before the Malloreons do. The city will fall. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
“What if we were to reinforce the garrison there? Would that change things at all?”
“Certainly, but it’s impossible.”
“Maybe not,” Urgit said with a quick look at Garion.
“What do you think of moving reinforcements there by ship?”
“By ship?” The general blinked, and then his face hardened. “That’s absurd.”
“Why absurd?”
“It’s never been done in Cthol Murgos before.”
“I imagine that there are a lot of things that have never been done in Cthol Murgos before. Is there any specific reason why it won’t work?”
“Ships sink, your Majesty,” Kradak pointed out acidly, as if speaking to a child. “The troops know that and they’ll refuse to go on board.”
Oskatat stepped forward. “Not if you crucify the first ten or so who refuse right there on the dock,” he said firmly. “That sort of example should lessen the reluctance of the rest.”
Kradak gave the gray-haired man a look of undisguised hatred. “What would a house servant know about command?” he demanded. He looked back at Urgit with a barely concealed sneer. “Just stay on your throne, Urgit,” he said harshly. “Play with your crown and your scepter and pretend that you’re a real king. But keep your nose out of the business of running the war.”
Urgit’s face blanched, and he shrank back in his chair.
“Shall I send for the headsman, your Majesty?” Oskatat inquired in an icy voice. “It appears that General Kradak has outlived his usefulness.”
Kradak stared at him incredulously. “You wouldn’t dare!” he gasped.
“Your life hangs on his Majesty’s pleasure just now, Kradak. One word from him, and your head will roll in the dust.”
“I am a general officer in the armies of Cthol Murgos.” Kradak clutched at the gold chain about his neck as if for reassurance. “My appointment comes from Taur Urgas himself. You have no authority over me, Oskatat.”
Urgit straightened in his chair, an angry flush moving up into his face. “Oh, really?” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “Maybe it’s time that we got a few things clarified.” He took off his crown and held it up. “Do you recognize this, Kradak?”
The general glared at him with a stony face.
“Answer me!”
“It’s the crown of Cthol Murgos,” Kradak replied sullenly.
“And the man who wears it has absolute authority, right?”
“Taur Urgas did.”
“Taur Urgas is dead. I sit upon the throne now, and you will obey me in the same way you obeyed him. Do you understand me?”
“You are not Taur Urgas.”
“That’s painfully obvious, General Kradak,” Urgit replied coldly. “I am your king, however, and I’m also an Urga. When I grow agitated, I feel the madness of the Urgas creeping up on me—and it’s creeping very fast just now. If you don’t do exactly as I tell you to do, you’re going to be a head shorter before the sun sets. Now go give the order to load the troops on those ships.”
“And if I refuse?”
Urgit’s expression grew hesitant. For some reason he looked appealingly at Garion.
“Kill him,” Garion said in the flat unemotional voice he had discovered immediately got people’s attention.
Urgit straightened again and firmly yanked his bellpull. The great gong outside in the hallway clanged. Two burly guards responded immediately. “Yes, your Majesty?” one of them asked.
“Well, Kradak?” Urgit asked. “What’s it to be? The ships or the block? Speak up, man. I haven’t got all day.”
Kraal’s face went ashen. “The ships, your Majesty,” he replied in a shaky voice.
“Splendid. I’m so happy that we were able to settle our little differences without unpleasantness.” Urgit turned to his guards. “General Kradak is going directly to the barracks of the Third Cohort now,” he told them, “and you will accompany him. He’s going to order those men to board the ships in the harbor and to sail to the relief of the garrison at Rak Cthaka.” He gave Kradak a narrow, distrustful look. “If he gives them any other order, you will cut off his head immediately and bring it to me—in a bucket.”
“As your Majesty commands,” the Murgos replied in unison, each banging his fist against his mail shirt.
Kradak turned, trembling and suddenly broken, and went out with the grim Murgo guards flanking him closely.
Urgit retained his imperious expression until the door closed, and then he threw both arms in the air and began beating his feet on the floor, whooping with delight. “Oh, Gods!” he said ecstatically. “I loved that! I’ve been wanting to do that all my life!”
The Lady Tamazin rose gravely from her chair, limped to where her son sat, and wordlessly embraced him.
“Affection, mother?” he asked lightly, a broad grin still creasing his sharp-featured face. “How terribly un-Murgoish.” And then he laughed and caught her in a rough bear hug.
“There may be hope after all,” she observed calmly to Oskatat.
A slow smile crept across the big Murgo’s lips. “It looks a bit more promising, my Lady,” he agreed.
“Thank you for your support, Oskatat,” Urgit said to his friend. “I might not have gotten through that without your help.” He paused. “I must say, though, that Fm a little surprised that you approved of my scheme.”
“I don’t. I think it’s an absurd idea almost certainly doomed from the start.”
Urgit blinked.
“There was another issue at stake, however—one that is much more important.” There was a peculiar pride on the big man’s face. “Do you realize that this is the very first time you’ve ever faced down one of your generals? They’ve been running roughshod over you since the day you took the throne. The loss of a few ships and a few thousand men is a small price to pay for a real king on the throne of Cthol Murgos.”
“Thank you for your candor, Oskatat,” Urgit said gravely. “It may just be, though, that things may not turn out so disastrously as you think.”
“Perhaps, but Taur Urgas would not have done this.”
“It might just be that someday we’ll all rejoice in the fact that Taur Urgas is no longer with us, Oskatat.” A faint ironic smile crossed the king’s lips. “As a matter of fact, I seem to feel a small surge of rejoicing coming over me already. I’m losing this war, my old friend, and a man who’s losing can’t afford to be conservative. I’ve got to take a few gambles if I want to keep Kal Zakath from parading through the streets of Rak Urga with my head on a pole.”
“As your Majesty commands,” the seneschal said with a bow. “I’m also going to have to give certain orders. Have I your permission to withdraw?”
“Of course.”
Oskatat turned and started toward the door. Before he reached it, however, it opened and Silk came into the room. The seneschal stopped, staring hard at the Drasnian. Silk’s hand moved swiftly toward the hood of his robe, but then he let it drop with a rueful grimace.
Garion groaned inwardly. He moved carefully into position not far behind Oskatat, aware that Durnik and the gigantic Toth were also coming up on either side of him, ready to move quickly to prevent any outcry.
“You!” Oskatat exclaimed to Silk. “What are you doing here?”
Silk’s expression grew resigned. “Just passing through, Oskatat,” he replied casually. “You’ve been well, I trust?”
Urgit looked up. “What’s this?”
“The seneschal and I are old friends, your Majesty,” Silk replied. “We met in Rak Goska some years ago.”
“Is your Majesty aware of this man’s true identity?” Oskatat demanded.
Urgit shrugged. “He’s one of Sadi’s servants,” he said. “Or so I was told.”
“Hardly that, Urgit. This is Prince Kheldar of Drasnia, the most notorious spy in the entire world.”
“The seneschal is perhaps a bit lavish in his praise,” Silk noted modestly.