The Belgariad 1: Pawn of Prophecy by David Eddings

“Who is he?” Barak demanded.

Garion ignored the question. “And then on the day of the boar hunt I saw him in the forest.”

“The Murgo?” Barak asked.

“No. The man in the green cloak. He met some other men there. They talked for a while not far from where I was waiting for the boar to come. They didn’t see me.”

“`There’s nothing suspicious about that,” Barak said. “A man can meet with his friends anywhere he likes.”

“I don’t think they were friends exactly,” Garion said. “The one in the green cloak called one of the other men `my Lord,’ and that one was giving him orders to get close enough so that he could hear what Mister Wolf and the kings were saying.”

“That’s more serious,” Barak said, seeming to forget his melancholy. “Did they say anything else?”

“The flaxen-haired man wanted to know about us,” Garion said. “You, me, Durnik, Silk – all of us.”

“Flaxen-colored hair?” Merel asked quickly.

“The one he called `my Lord,’ ” Garion explained. “He seemed to know about us. He even knew about me.”

“Long, pale-colored hair?” Merel demanded. “No beard? A little older than Barak?”

“It couldn’t be him,” Barak said. “Anheg banished him on pain of death.”

“You’re a child, Barak,” she said. “He’d ignore that if it suited him. I think we’d better tell Anheg about this.”

“Do you know him?” Garion asked. “Some of the things he said about Barak weren’t very polite.”

“I can imagine,” Merel said ironically. “Barak was one of those who said that he ought to have his head removed.”

Barak was already pulling on his mail shirt.

“Fix your hair,” Merel told him in a tone that oddly had no hint of her former rancor in it. “You look like a haystack.”

“I can’t stop to fool with it now,” Barak said impatiently. “Come along, both of you. We’ll go to Anheg at once.”

There was no time for any further questions, since Garion and Merel almost had to run to keep up with Barak. They swept through the great hall, and startled warriors scrambled out of their way after one look at Barak’s face.

“My Lord Barak,” one of the guards at the door of the council hall greeted the huge man.

“One side,” Barak commanded and flung open the door with a crash. King Anheg looked up, startled at the sudden interruption.

“Welcome, cousin,” he began.

“Treason, Anheg!” Barak roared. “The Earl of Jarvik has broken his banishment and set spies on you in your own palace.”

“Jarvik?” Anheg said. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“He dared, all right,” Barak said. “He’s been seen not far from Val Alorn, and some of his plotting has been overheard.”

“Who is this Jarvik?” the Rivan Warder asked.

“An earl I banished last year,” Anheg said. “One of his men was stopped, and we found a message on him. The message was to a Murgo in Sendaria, and it gave the details of one of our most secret councils. Jarvik tried to deny that the message was his, even though it had his own seal on it and his strongroom bulged with red gold from the mines of Cthol Murgos. I’d have had his head on a pole, but his wife’s a kinswoman of mine and she begged for his life. I banished him to one of his estates on the west coast instead.” He looked at Barak. “How did you find out about this?” he asked. “Last I heard, you’d locked yourself in your room and wouldn’t talk to anybody.”

“My husband’s words are true, Anheg,” Lady Merel said in a voice that rang with challenge.

“I don’t doubt him, Merel,” Anheg said, looking at her with a faintly surprised expression. “I just wanted to know how he learned about Jarvik, that’s all.”

“This boy from Sendaria saw him,” Merel said, “and heard him talk to his spy. I heard the boy’s story myself, and I stand behind what my husband said, if anyone here dares to doubt him.”

“Garion?” Aunt Pol said, startled.

“May I suggest that we hear from the lad?” Cho-Hag of the Algars said quietly. “A nobleman with a history of friendship for the Murgos who chooses this exact moment to break his banishment concerns us all, I think.”

“Tell them what you told Merel and me, Garion,” Barak ordered, pushing Garion forward.

“Your Majesty,” Garion said, bowing awkwardly, “I’ve seen a man in a green cloak hiding here in your palace several times since we came here. He creeps along the passageways and takes a lot of trouble not to be seen. I saw him the first night we were here, and the next day I saw him going into a tavern in the city with a Murgo. Barak says there aren’t any Murgos in Cherek, but I know that the man he was with was a Murgo.”

“How do you know?” Anheg asked shrewdly.

Garion looked at him helplessly, unable to say Asharak’s name.

“Well, boy?” King Rhodar asked.

Garion struggled with the words, but nothing would come out.

“Maybe you know this Murgo?” Silk suggested.

Garion nodded, relieved that someone could help him.

“You wouldn’t know many Murgos,” Silk said, rubbing his nose with one finger. “Was it the one we met in Darine, perhaps – and later in Muros? The one known as Asharak?”

Garion nodded again.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Barak asked.

“I – I couldn’t,” Garion stammered.

“Couldn’t?”

“The words wouldn’t come out,” Garion said. “I don’t know why, but I’ve never been able to talk about him.”

“Then you’ve seen him before?” Silk said.

“Yes,” Garion said.

“And you’ve never told anybody?”

“No.”

Silk glanced quickly at Aunt Pol. “Is this the sort of thing you might know more about than we would, Polgara?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “It’s possible to do it,” she said. “It’s never been very reliable, so I don’t bother with it myself. It is possible, however.” Her expression grew grim.

“The Grolims think it’s impressive,” Mister Wolf said. “Grolims are easily impressed.”

“Come with me, Garion,” Aunt Pol said.

“Not yet,” Wolf said.

“This is important,” she said, her face hardening.

“You can do it later,” he said. “Let’s hear the rest of his story first. The damage has already been done. Go ahead, Garion. What else did you see?”

Garion took a deep breath. “All right,” he said, relieved to be talking to the old man instead of the kings. “I saw the man in the green cloak again that day we all went hunting. He met in the forest with a yellowhaired man who doesn’t wear a beard. They talked for a while, and I could hear what they were saying. The yellow-haired man wanted to know what all of you were saying in this hall.”

“You should have come to me immediately,” King Anheg said.

“Anyway,” Garion went on, “I had that fight with the wild boar. I hit my head against a tree and was stunned. I didn’t remember what I’d seen until this morning. After King Fulrach called Durnik here, I went exploring. I was in a part of the palace where the roof is all fallen in, and I found some footprints. I followed them, and then after a while I saw the man in the green cloak again. That was when I remembered all this. I followed him, and he went along a corridor that passes somewhere over the top of this hall. He hid up there and listened to what you were saying.”

“How much do you think he could hear, Garion?” King Cho-Hag asked.

“You were talking about somebody called the Apostate,” Garion said, “and you were wondering if he could use some power of some kind to awaken an enemy who’s been asleep for a long time. Some of you thought you ought to warn the Arends and the Tolnedrans, but Mister Wolf didn’t think so. And Durnik talked about how the men of Sendaria would fight if the Angaraks came.”

They appeared startled.

“I was hiding not far from the man in the green cloak,” Garion said. “I’m sure he could hear everything that I could. Then some soldiers came, and the man ran away. That’s when I decided that I ought to tell Barak about all this.”

“Up there,” Silk said, standing near one of the walls and pointing at a corner of the ceiling of the hall. “The mortar’s crumbled away. The sound of our voices carries right up through the cracks between the stones into the upper corridor.”

“This is a valuable boy you’ve brought with you, Lady Polgara,” I King Rhodar said gravely. “If he’s looking for a profession, I think I might find a place for him. Gathering information is a rewarding occupation, and he seems to have certain natural gifts along those lines.”

“He has some other gifts as well,” Aunt Pol said. “He seems to be very good at turning up in places where he’s not supposed to be.”

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