“Probably nervous about seeing a celebrity,” Belgarath suggested. “You are, after all, something of a legend, Silk.”
“There’s still no excuse for sloppy work,” Silk said. “If I had time, I’d stop by the academy and have a talk with the headmaster about it.” He sighed. “The quality of student work has definitely gone downhill since they discontinued the use of the whipping post.”
“The what?” Garion exclaimed.
“In my day, a student who was seen by the person he was assigned to watch was flogged,” Silk told him. “Flogging’s a very effective teaching technique, Garion.”
Just ahead of them a door to a large house opened, and a dozen uniformed pikemen marched out into the street, halted and turned to face them. The officer in charge came forward and bowed politely. “Prince Kheldar,” he greeted Silk, “Her Highness wonders if you’d be so good as to stop by the palace.”
“You see,” Silk said to Garion. “I told you she knew we were here.” He turned to the officer. “Just out of curiosity, captain, what would you do if I told you that we didn’t feel like being so good as to stop by the palace?”
“I’d probably have to insist,” the captain replied.
“I rather thought you might feel that way about it.”
“Are we under arrest?” Garion asked nervously.
“Not precisely, your Majesty,” the captain answered. “Queen Porenn most definitely wishes to speak with you, however.” He bowed then to Belgarath. “Ancient One,” he greeted the old man respectfully. “I think that if we went around to the side entrance, we’d attract less attention.” And he turned and gave his men the order to march.
“He knows who we are,” Garion muttered to Silk.
“Naturally,” Silk said.
“How are we going to get out of this? Won’t Queen Porenn just ship us all back to Riva?”
“We’ll talk to her,” Belgarath said. “Porenn’s got good sense. I’m sure we can explain this to her.”
“Unless Polgara’s been issuing ultimatums,” Silk added. “She does that when she gets angry, I’ve noticed.”
“We’ll see,”
Queen Porenn was even more radiantly lovely than ever. Her slimness made it obvious that the birth of her first child had already occurred. Motherhood had brought a glow to her face and a look of completion to her eyes. She greeted them fondly as they entered the palace and led them immediately to her private quarters. The little queen’s rooms were somehow lacy and feminine with rubies on the furniture and soft, pink curtains at the windows. “Where have you been?” she asked them as soon as they were alone. “Polgara’s frantic.”
Belgarath shrugged. “She’ll recover, What’s happening in Riva?”
“They’re directing the search for you, naturally,” Porenn replied. “How did you manage to get this far? Every road’s been blocked.”
“We were ahead of everybody, Auntie dearest.” Silk grinned impudently at her. “By the time they started blocking roads, we’d already gone through.”
“I’ve asked you not to call me that, Kheldar,” she admonished him.
“Forgive me, your Highness,” he said with a bow, though still grinning mockingly.
“You’re impossible,” she told him.
“Of course I am,” he answered. “It’s part of my charm.”
The queen sighed. “What am I going to do with all of you now?”
“You’re going to let us continue our journey,” Belgarath replied calmly. “We’ll argue about it, of course, but in the end that’s the way it will turn out.”
She stared at him.
“You did ask, after all. I’m sure you feel better now that you know.”
“You’re as bad or worse than Kheldar,” she accused.
“I’ve had more practice.”
“It’s quite out of the question,” she told him firmly. “I have strict orders from Polgara to send you all back to Riva.”
Belgarath shrugged.
“You’ll go?” She seemed surprised.
“No,” he replied, “we won’t. You said that Polgara gave you strict orders to send us back. All right, then, I give you strict orders not to. Now where does that leave us?”
“That’s cruel, Belgarath.”
“Times are hard.”
“Before we get down to serious squabbling, do you suppose we might have a look at the heir to the throne?” Silk asked.
His question was artful. No new mother could resist the opportunity to show off her infant, and Queen Porenn had already turned toward the cradle standing in the corner of the room before she realized that she was being cleverly manipulated.
“You’re bad, Kheldar,” she said reprovingly, but she nonetheless pulled back the satin coverlet to reveal the baby that had become the absolute center of her life.
The Crown Prince of Drasnia was very seriously attempting to put one of his toes in his mouth. With a happy little cry, Porenn caught him up in her arms and hugged him. Then she turned him and held him out for them to see. “Isn’t he beautiful?” she demanded.
“Hail, cousin,” Silk greeted the baby gravely. “Your timely arrival has insured that I will be spared the ultimate indignity.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Porenn asked him suspiciously. “Only that his little pink Highness has permanently removed any possibility of my ever ascending the throne,” Silk replied. “I’d be a very bad king, Porenn. Drasnia would suffer almost as much as I would, if that disaster ever took place. Our Garion here is already a better king by accident than I could ever be.”
“Oh dear.” Porenn flushed slightly. “That completely slipped my mind.” She curtsied somewhat awkwardly, her baby still in her arms. “Your Majesty,” she greeted Garion formally.
“Your Highness,” Garion answered with the bow Aunt Pol had made him practice for hours.
Porenn laughed her silvery little laugh. “That all seems so inappropriate.” She put one hand to the back of Garion’s neck, drew his head down and kissed him warmly. The baby in her other arm cooed. “Dear Garion,” she said. “You’ve grown so tall.”
There wasn’t much he could say to that.
The queen studied his face for a moment. “Many things have happened to you,” she observed shrewdly. “You’re not the same boy I knew in Val Alorn.”
“He’s making progress,” Belgarath agreed, settling himself into a chair. “How many spies are listening to us at the moment, Porenn?”
“Two that I know of,” she replied, returning her baby to his cradle.
Silk laughed. “And how many spies are spying on the spies?”
“Several, I’d imagine,” Porenn told him. “If I tried to unravel all the spying that goes on here, I’d never get anything done.”
“I’ll assume that they’re all discreet,” Belgarath said with a meaningful glance around at the walls and draperies.
“Of course they are,” Porenn declared, sounding slightly offended. “We do have standards, you know. Amateurs are never allowed to spy inside the palace.”
“All right, let’s get down to business, then. Is it really going to be necessary for us to go through some long, involved argument about whether or not you’re going to try to send us back to Riva?”
She sighed and then gave a helpless little laugh. “I suppose not,” she surrendered. “You are going to have to give me an excuse to give to Polgara, though.”
“Just tell her that we’re acting on the instructions contained in the Mrin Codex.”
“Are there instructions in the Mrin Codex?” She sounded surprised.
“There might be,” he replied. “Most of it’s such unmitigated gibberish that no one can be absolutely sure one way or the other.”
“Are you asking me to try to deceive her?”
“No, I’m asking you to let her think that I deceived you – there’s a difference.”
“A very subtle one, Belgarath.”
“It will be all right,” he assured her. “She’s always ready to believe the worst about me. Anyway, the three of us are on our way to Gar og Nadrak. Get word to Polgara that we’re going to need a diversion of sorts. Tell her that I said to stop wasting time looking for us and to mass an army somewhere in the south – make a lot of noise. I want the Angaraks all to be so busy watching her that they don’t have time to look for us.”
“What on earth are you going to do in Gar og Nadrak?” Porenn asked curiously.
Belgarath looked suggestively at the walls behind which the official spies – as well as a few unofficial ones-lurked. “Polgara will know what we’re doing. What’s the current situation along the Nadrak border?”
“Tense,” she replied. “It’s not hostile yet, but it’s a long way from cordial. The Nadraks don’t really want to go to war. If it weren’t for the Grolims, I honestly think we could persuade them to stay neutral. They’d much rather kill Murgos than Drasnians.”
Belgarath nodded. “Pass the word on to your husband that I’d like for him to keep a fairly tight rein on Anheg,” he continued. “Anheg’s brilliant, but he’s a trifle erratic at times. Rhodar’s steadier. Tell him that what I want in the south is a diversion, not a general war. Alorns sometimes get overenthusiastic.”