Haldor laughed. “Why don’t we go to my house, and we’ll talk about it? Over a cup of wine, perhaps?”
The other man threw him a startled glance; then he laughed too, although a bit nervously. The two of them turned and walked away, leaving the dead man sprawled on the stones.
Garion stared in horror at them and then at the black-faced corpse lying so grotesquely twisted in the center of the marketplace. The Tolnedrans near the body seemed to ignore its existence. “Why doesn’t somebody do something?” he demanded.
“They’re afraid,” Silk said. “If they show any concern, they might be mistaken for partisans. Politics here in Tol Honeth are taken very seriously.”
“Shouldn’t someone notify the authorities?” Durnik suggested, his face pale and his voice shaking.
“I’m sure it’s already been taken care of,” Silk said. “Let’s not stand around staring. I don’t think we want to get involved in this sort of thing.”
Aunt Pol came back to where they were standing. The two Cherek warriors from Grinneg’s house who had been accompanying her were loaded down with bundles and both of them looked a little sheepish about it.
“What are you doing?” she asked Silk.
“We were just watching a bit of Tolnedran politics in action,” Silk said, pointing at the dead man in the center of the square.
“Poison?” she asked, noting Radan’s contorted limbs.
Silk nodded. “A strange one. It doesn’t seem to work unless the victim gets excited.”
“Athsat,” she said with a grim nod.
“You’ve heard of it before?” Silk seemed surprised.
She nodded. “It’s quite rare, and very expensive. I didn’t think the Nyissans would be willing to sell any of it.”
“I think we should move away from here,” Hettar suggested. “There’s a squad of legionnaires coming, and they might want to question any witnesses.”
“Good idea,” Silk said and led them toward the far side of the marketplace.
Near the row of houses that marked the edge of the square, eight burly men carried a heavily veiled litter. As the litter approached, a slender, jeweled hand reached languidly out from behind the veil and touched one of the porters on the shoulder. The eight men stopped immediately and set the litter down.
“Silk,” a woman’s voice called from within the litter, “what are you doing back in Tol Honeth?”
“Bethra?” Silk said. “Is that you?”
The veil was drawn back, revealing a lushly endowed woman lounging on crimson satin cushions inside the litter. Her dark hair was elaborately curled with strings of pearls woven into her tresses. Her pink silken gown clung to her body, and golden rings and bracelets clasped her arms and fingers. Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, and her long-lashed eyes were wicked. There was about her a kind of overripeness and an almost overpowering sense of self indulgent corruption. For some reason Garion felt himself blushing furiously.
“I thought you’d still be running,” she said archly to Silk. “The men I sent after you were very professional.”
Silk bowed with an ironic little flourish. “They were quite good, Bethra,” he agreed with a wry grin. “Not quite good enough, but very good, actually. I hope you didn’t need them anymore.”
“I always wondered why they didn’t come back.” She laughed. “I should have known, of course. I hope you didn’t take it personally.”
“Certainly not, Bethra. It’s just part of the profession, after all.”
“I knew you’d understand,” she said. “I had to get rid of you. You were disrupting my entire plan.”
Silk grinned wickedly. “I know,” he gloated. “And after all you had to go through to set it up – and with the Thullish ambassador, no less.”
She made a disgusted face.
“Whatever happened to him?” Silk asked.
“He went swimming in the Nedrane.”
“I didn’t know that Thulls swam all that well.”
“They don’t – particularly not with large rocks tied to their feet. After you’d destroyed the whole thing, I didn’t really need him anymore, and there were some things I didn’t want him mentioning in certain quarters.”
“You always were prudent, Bethra.”
“What are you up to now?” she asked curiously.
Silk shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that.”
“The succession?”
“Oh, no.” He laughed. “I know better than to get involved in that. Which side are you on?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Silk looked around, his eyes narrowing. “I could use some information, Bethra – if you’re free to talk about it, of course.”
“About what, Silk?”
“The city seems to be awash with Murgos,” Silk said. “If you’re not presently involved with them, I’d appreciate anything you could tell me.”
She smiled at him archly. “And what would you be willing to pay?” she asked.
“Couldn’t we just call it professional courtesy?”
She smiled wickedly at him; then she laughed. “Why not? I like you, Silk, and I think I’ll like you even more if you owe me a favor.”
“I’ll be your slave,” he promised.
“Liar.” She thought for a moment. “The Murgos have never really shown all that much interest in trade,” she said. “But a few years ago they began arriving in twos and threes; and then late last summer, whole caravans started coming in from Rak Goska.”
“You think they want to influence the succession?” Silk asked.
“That would be my guess,” she said. “There’s a great deal of red gold in Tol Honeth suddenly. My coin chests are full of it.”
Silk grinned. “It all spends.”
“It does indeed.”
“Have they picked any one candidate?”
“Not that I’ve been able to determine. They seem to be divided into two different factions, and there’s quite a bit of antagonism between them.”
“That could be a ruse, of course.”
“I don’t think so. I think the antagonism has to do with the quarrel between Zedar and Ctuchik. Each side wants to get control of the next Emperor. They’re spending money like water.”
“Do you know the one called Asharak?”
“Ah, that one,” she replied. “The other Murgos are all afraid of him. At the moment he seems to be working for Ctuchik, but I think he’s playing some game of his own. He owns the Grand Duke Kador out right, and Kador’s closest to the throne right now. That puts Asharak in a very powerful position. That’s about all I really know.”
“Thank you, Bethra,” Silk said respectfully.
“Are you planning to stay in Tol Honeth for long?” she asked.
“Unfortunately no.”
“Pity. I was hoping you might be able to come by for a visit. We could talk over old times. I don’t have many close friends anymore – or dear enemies, like you.”
Silk laughed dryly. “I wonder why,” he said. “I don’t imagine I could swim much better than the Thullish ambassador did. You’re a dangerous woman, Bethra.”
“In more ways than one,” she admitted, stretching languidly. “But your life’s not really in any danger from me, Silk – not anymore.”
“It wasn’t my life I was worried about.” Silk grinned.
“That’s another matter, of course,” she admitted. “Don’t forget that you owe me a favor.”
“I hunger for the opportunity to repay my debt,” he said impudently.
“You’re impossible.” She laughed, then gestured to her porters, and they lifted her litter to their shoulders. “Good-bye, Silk,” she said.
“Good-bye, Bethra,” he replied with a deep bow.
“Absolutely disgusting,” Durnik said in a voice strangled with outrage as the porters marched away with the litter. “Why is a woman like that even permitted to stay in the city?”
“Bethra?” Silk asked in surprise. “She’s the most brilliant and fascinating woman in Tol Honeth. Men come from all over the world just for an hour or two with her.”
“For a price, of course,” Durnik said.
“Don’t misunderstand her, Durnik,” Silk told him. “Her conversation’s probably more valuable than-” He coughed slightly with a quick glance at Aunt Pol.
“Really?” Durnik questioned in a voice heavy with sarcasm.
Silk laughed. “Durnik,” he said, “I love you like a brother, but you’re a terrible prude, do you know that?”
“Leave him alone, Silk,” Aunt Pol said firmly. “I like him exactly the way he is.”
“I’m only trying to improve him, Lady Polgara,” Silk explained innocently.
“Barak’s right about you, Prince Kheldar,” she said. “You’re a very bad man.”
“It’s all in the line of duty. I sacrifice my more delicate feelings for the sake of my country.”
“Of course!”
“Surely you don’t imagine that I enjoy that sort of thing?”
“Why don’t we just let it drop?” she suggested.
Grinneg, Barak, and Mister Wolf returned to Grinneg’s house not long after the others had arrived.
“Well?” Aunt Pol asked Wolf as the old man came into the room where they had been waiting.
“He went south,” Wolf said.
“South? He didn’t turn east toward Cthol Murgos?”
“No,” Wolf said. “He’s probably trying to avoid a meeting with Ctuchik’s people. He’ll look for a quiet place to slip across the border. Either that or he’s headed for Nyissa. Perhaps he’s made some arrangement with Salmissra. We’ll have to follow him to find out.”