“We’ll talk for a bit, Jarvik,” he said, “before what must be done is done.”
The flaxen-haired man gave up his hopeless struggle against Barak and the almost equally powerful Brand. “I don’t have anything to say, Anheg,” he said defiantly. “If the luck had gone differently, I’d be sitting on your throne right now. I took my chance, and that’s the end of it.
“Not quite,” Anheg said. “I want the details. You might as well tell me. One way or another, you’re going to talk.”
“Do your worst,” Jarvik sneered. “I’ll bite out my own tongue before I tell you anything.”
“We’ll see about that,” Anheg said grimly.
“That won’t be necessary, Anheg,” Aunt Pol said, walking slowly toward the captive. “There’s an easier way to persuade him.”
“I’m not going to say anything,” Jarvik told her. “I’m a warrior and I’m not afraid of you, witch-woman.”
“You’re a greater fool than I thought, Lord Jarvik,” Mister Wolf said. “Would you rather I did it, Pol?”
“I can manage, Father,” she said, not taking her eyes off Jarvik.
“Carefully,” the old man cautioned. “Sometimes you go to extremes. Just a little touch is enough.”
“I know what I’m doing, Old Wolf,” she said tartly. She stared full into the captive’s eyes.
Garion, still hidden, held his breath.
The Earl of Jarvik began to sweat and tried desperately to pull his eyes away from Aunt Pol’s gaze, but it was hopeless. Her will commanded him, locking his eyes. He trembled, and his face grew pale. She made no move, no gesture, but merely stood before him, her eyes burning into his brain.
And then, after a moment, he screamed. Then he screamed again and collapsed, his weight sagging down in the hands of the two men who held him.
“Take it away,” he whimpered, shuddering uncontrollably. “I’ll talk, but please take it away.”
Silk, now lounging near Anheg’s throne, looked at Hettar. “I wonder what he saw,” he said.
“I think it might be better not to know,” Hettar replied.
Queen Islena had watched intently as if hoping to gain some hint of how the trick was done. She winced visibly when Jarvik screamed, pulling her eyes away.
“All right, Jarvik,” Anheg said, his tone strangely subdued. “Begin at the beginning. I want it all.”
“It was a little thing at first,” Jarvik said in a shaking voice. “There didn’t seem to be any harm in it.”
“There never does,” Brand said.
The Earl of Jarvik drew in a deep breath, glanced once at Aunt Pol and shuddered again. Then he straightened. “It started about two years ago,” he said. “I’d sailed to Kotu in Drasnia, and I met a Nadrak merchant named Grashor there. He seemed to be a good enough fellow and after we’d gotten to know each other he asked me if I’d be interested in a profitable venture. I told him that I was an earl and not a common tradesman, but he persisted. He said he was nervous about the pirates who live on the islands in the Gulf of Cherek and an earl’s ship manned by armed warnors was not likely to be attacked. His cargo was a single chest – not very large. I think it was some jewels he’d managed to smuggle past the customs houses in Boktor, and he wanted them delivered to Darine in Sendaria. I said that I wasn’t really interested, but then he opened his purse and poured out gold. The gold was bright red, I remember, and I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off it. I did need money – who doesn’t after all?-and I really couldn’t see any dishonor in doing what he asked.
“Anyway, I carried him and his cargo to Darine and met his associate – a Murgo named Asharak.”
Garion started at the name, and he heard Silk’s low whistle of surprise.
“As we’d agreed,” Jarvik continued, “Asharak paid me a sum equal to what Grashor had given me, and I came away from the affair with a whole pouch of gold. Asharak told me that I’d done them a great favor and that if I ever needed more gold, he’d be happy to find ways for me to earn it.
“I now had more gold than I’d ever had at one time before, but it somehow seemed that it wasn’t enough. For some reason I felt that I needed more.”
“It’s the nature of Angarak gold,” Mister Wolf said. “It calls to its own. The more one has, the more it comes to possess him. That’s why Murgos are so lavish with it. Asharak wasn’t buying your services, Jarvik; he was buying your soul.”
Jarvik nodded, his face gloomy. “At any rate,” he continued, “it wasn’t long before I found an excuse to sail to Darine again. Asharak told me that since Murgos are forbidden to enter Cherek, he’d developed a great curiosity about us and our kingdom. He asked me many questions and he gave me gold for every answer. It seemed to me to be a foolish way to spend money, but I gave him the answers and took his gold. When I came back to Cherek, I had another pouch full. I went to Jarviksholm and put the new gold with that I already had. I saw that I was a rich man, and I still hadn’t done anything dishonorable. But now it seemed that there weren’t enough hours in the day. I spent all my time locked in my strongroom, counting my gold over and over, polishing it until it gleamed red as blood and filling my ears with the sound of its tinkling.
But after a while it seemed that I didn’t really have very much, and so I went back to Asharak. He said he was still curious about Cherek and that he’d like to know Anheg’s mind. He told me that he’d give me as much gold as I already had if I sent him word of what was said in the high councils here in the palace for a year. At first I said no, because I knew it would be dishonorable; but then he showed me the gold, and I couldn’t say no any more.”
From where he watched Garion could see the expressions of those in the hall below. Their faces had a curious mingling of pity and contempt as Jarvik’s story continued.
“It was then, Anheg,” he said, “that your men captured one of my messengers, and I was banished to Jarviksholm. At first I didn’t mind, ” because I could still play with my gold. But again it wasn’t long before it seemed that I didn’t have enough. I sent a fast ship through the Bore to Darine with a message to Asharak begging him to find something else for me to do to earn more gold. When the ship came back, Asharak was aboard her, and we sat down and talked about what I could do to increase my hoard.”
“You’re doubly a traitor then, Jarvik,” Anheg said in a voice that was almost sad. “You’ve betrayed me and you’ve broken the oldest law in Cherek. No Angarak has set foot on Cherek soil since the days of Bear-shoulders himself.”
Jarvik shrugged. “I didn’t really care by then,” he said. “Asharak had a plan, and it seemed like a good one to me. If we could get through the city a few at a time, we could hide an army in the ruined southern wings of the palace. With surprise and a bit of luck we could kill Anheg and the other Alorn Kings, and I could take the throne of Cherek and maybe of all Aloria as well.”
“And what was Asharak’s price?” Mister Wolf demanded, his eyes narrowing. “What did he want in return for making you king?”
“A thing so small that I laughed when he told me what he wanted,” Jarvik said. “But he said that he’d not only give me the crown but a roomful of gold if I’d get it for him.”
“What was it?” Wolf repeated.
“He said that there was a boy – about fourteen – in the party of King Fulrach of Sendaria. He told me that as soon as that boy was delivered to him, he’d give me more gold than I could count and the throne of Cherek as well.”
King Fulrach looked startled.
“The boy Garion?” he asked. “Why would Asharak want him?”
Aunt Pol’s single frightened gasp carried even up to where Garion was concealed.
“Durnik!” she said in a ringing voice, but Durnik was already on his feet and racing toward the door with Silk close behind him. Aunt Pol spun with eyes blazing and the white lock at her brow almost incandescent in the midnight of her hair. The Earl of Jarvik flinched as her glare fell on him.
“If anything’s happened to the boy, Jarvik, men will tremble at the memory of your fate for a thousand years,” she told him.