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Guardians of the West

Page 60

"Of course I am." He smirked.

She gave him a withering look and went in search of Lady Arell, her usual companion in the baths.

"She looks absolutely blooming," Silk observed, "and she's not nearly as bad-tempered as I'd expected."

"You should have been around a few months ago."

"Bad?"

"You can't imagine."

"It happens, I suppose -or so I've been told."

"What have you been up to lately?" Garion asked, leaning back in his chair. "We haven't heard much about you."

"I've been in Mallorea," Silk replied, sipping at his wine. "The fur trade isn't very challenging any more, and Yarblek's been handling that end of the business. We felt that there was a great deal of money to be made in Mallorean silks, carpets, and uncut gemstones, so I went over to investigate."

"Isn't it a little dangerous for a Western merchant in Mallorea?"

Silk shrugged. "No worse than Rak Goska -or Tol Honeth, for that matter. I've spent my whole life in dangerous places, Garion."

"Couldn't you just buy your goods at Yar Marak or Thull Zelik when they come off the Mallorean ships?"

"The prices are better at the source. Everytime an article goes through another pair of hands, the price doubles."

"That makes sense, I suppose." Garion looked at his friend, envying the freedom that made it possible for Silk to go anywhere in the world he wanted to go. "What's Mallorea really like?" he asked. "We hear stories, but I think that's all they are most of the time."

"It's in turmoil just now." Silk replied gravely. "Kal Zakath's off fighting his war with the Murgos, and the Grolims went all to pieces when they heard about the death of Torak. Mallorean society has always been directed from either Mal Zeth or Mal Yaska -the emperor or the church- but now nobody seems to be in charge. The government bureaucracy tries to hold things together, but Malloreans need strong leadership and right now they don't have it. All sorts of strange things are beginning to surface -rebellions, new religions, that kind of thing."

A thought occurred to Garion. "Have you run across the name Zandramas?" be asked curiously.

Silk looked at him sharply. "It's odd you should ask that," he said. "When I was in Boktor, just before Rhodar died, I was talking with Javelin. Errand happened to be there and he asked Javelin the same question. Javelin told him that it's a Darshivan name and that was about all he knew. When I went back to Mallorea, I asked in a few places, but people got very tight-lipped and white-knuckled every time I mentioned it, so I let it drop. I gathered that it has something to do with one of those new religions I mentioned before."

"Did you happen to hear anything about something called the Sardion -or Cthrag Sardius, maybe?"

Silk frowned, tapping the rim of his goblet thoughtfully against his lower lip. "It's got a familiar ring to it, but I can't quite put my finger on where I heard it."

"If you happen to remember, I'd appreciate your telling me anything you can find out about it."

"Is it important?"

"I think it might be. Grandfather and Beldin have been trying to track it down."

"I've got some contacts in Mal Zeth and Melcene," Silk noted. "When I get back, I'll see what I can find out."

"You're going back soon, then?"

Silk nodded. "I'd have stayed there, but a little crisis came up in Yar Nadrak. King Drosta started to get greedy. We've been paying him some very healthy bribes to persuade him to look the other way about some of our activities in his kingdom. He got the notion that we were making a great deal of money and he was toying with the idea of expropriating our holdings in Gar og Nadrak. I had to come back and talk him out of that notion."

"How did you manage that? I've always had the impression that Drosta does pretty much what he wants in Gar og Nadrak."

"I threatened him," Silk said. "I pointed out that I'm closely related to the King of Drasnia and hinted that I was on very good terms with Kal Zakath. The prospect of an invasion from either the East or the West didn't appeal to him, so he dropped the idea."

"Are you on good terms with 'Zakath?"

"I've never met him -but Drosta doesn't know that."

"You lied? Isn't that dangerous?"

Silk laughed. "Lots of things are dangerous, Garion. We've both been in tight spots before. Rak Cthol wasn't the safest place in the world, if you'll recall, and Cthol Mishrak made me definitely edgy."

Garion toyed with his goblet. "You know something, Silk?" he said. "I sort of miss all that."

" All what?"

"I don't know -the danger, the excitement. Things have settled down pretty much for me. About the only excitement I get these days is in trying to maneuver my way around the Tolnedran ambassador. Sometimes I wish- " He left it hanging there.

"You can come to Mallorea with me, if you'd like," Silk offered. "I could find interesting work for a man of your talents."

"I don't think Ce'Nedra would be too pleased if I left just now."

"That's one of the reasons I never married," Silk told him. "I don't have to worry about things like that."

"Are you going to stop in Boktor on your way back?"

"Briefly, maybe. I visited the people I needed to see on my way here from Yar Nadrak. Porenn's doing very well with Kheva. He's probably going to be a good king when he grows up. And I stopped by to see Javelin, of course. It's more or less expected. He likes to get our impressions of foreign countries -even when we're not acting in any official capacity."

"Javelin's very good, isn't he?"

"He's the best."

"I always thought you were."

"Not by a long way, Garion." Silk smiled. "I'm too erratic -brilliant, maybe, but erratic. I get sidetracked too easily. When Javelin goes after something, he doesn't let anything distract him until he gets it. Right now, he's trying to get to the bottom of this Bear-cult thing."

"Is he having any luck?"

"Not yet. He's been trying for several years to get somebody into the inner councils of the cult, but he hasn't been able to manage it. I told him that he ought to send in Hunter, but he told me that Hunter's busy with something else and to mind my own business."

"Hunter? Who's Hunter?"

"I have no idea," Silk admitted. "It's not really a who, you see. It's a name that's applied to the most secret of our spies, and it changes from time to time. Only Javelin knows who Hunter is and he won't tell anybody -not even Porenn. Javelin himself was Hunter for a time -about fifteen years ago. It's not always necessarily a Drasnian, though -or even a man. It can be anybody in the world. It might even be somebody we know -Barak, maybe, or Relg- or maybe somebody in Nyissa."

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