"Despite the importance of what we're doing?" Belgarath's face was like a thundercloud. "You just dropped everything and ran out to do a little private killing?"
"There are some things you just don't let slide, Belgarath. There's also a principle involved. We do not allow the killing of a member of Drasnian intelligence to go unpunished. It's bad for business if people get the idea that they can get away with that sort of thing. Anyway, the first night I went to some pains to make things look sort of natural."
"Natural?" Durnik asked. "How can you make a murder look natural?"
"Please, Durnik. Murder is such an ugly word."
"He smothered them in their beds with their own pillows," Garion explained.
"And one fellow sort of accidentally fell out of a window," Silk added. "Rather a high one as I recall. He came down on an iron fence."
Durnik shuddered.
"I managed to visit five of them night before last, but the methods were taking entirely too long, so last night I was a bit more direct. I did sort of linger for a time with the Baron Kelbor, though. He was the one who actually gave the order to have Bethra killed. We had a very nice chat before he left us."
"Kelbor's house is the most closely guarded in Tol Honeth," Ce'Nedra said. "How did you manage to get in?"
"People seldom look up at night—particularly when it's snowing. I went in over the rooftops. Anyway, Kelbor gave me some very useful information. It seems that the man who told the Honeths about Bethra's activities was Mallorean."
"Naradas?" Garion asked quickly.
"No. This one had a black beard."
"Harakan, then?"
"Lots of people have beards, Garion. I'd like a little bit more confirmation—not that I'd object to cutting Harakan up into little pieces, but I'd hate to let the real culprit get away because I was concentrating too much on our old friend," His face went bleak again. "That's particularly true in view of the fact that, from what Kelbor said, this helpful Mallorean arranged and participated in Bethra's murder— sort of as a favor to the Honeth family."
"I do wish that you'd go take a bath, Prince Kheldar," Ce'Nedra said. "What on earth possessed you to take up residence in a garbage heap?"
He shrugged. "I was interrupted during my last visit, and a number of people were chasing me. This snow complicated things a bit. My tracks were fairly easy for them to follow. I needed a place to hide, and the garbage heap was handy." His look became disgusted, "It never snows in Tol Honeth."
"You'd be amazed at how many people have told me the same thing today," Garion murmured.
"I really think we should leave almost immediately," Silk said.
"What for?" Durnik asked. "You got away, didn't you?"
"You forget the tracks, Durnik." Silk held up one foot. "Rivan boots—an affectation, perhaps. They're very comfortable, but they do leave distinctive tracks. I expect that it's only going to be a matter of time before somebody puts a few things together and I'm not really in the mood for dodging Honethite assassins. They're fairly inept, but they can be an inconvenience."
The door opened rather quietly, and Silk instantly went into a crouch, his hands diving inside his smeared doublet for his daggers.
"My goodness," the lavender-gowned Velvet said mildly, entering and closing the door behind her, "aren't we jumpy this evening?"
"What are you doing in here?" Silk demanded.
"I was attending the Imperial Ball. You have no idea how much gossip one can pick up at such affairs. The whole ballroom is buzzing with the accidents that have been befalling the Honeths in the past couple nights. Under the circumstances, I thought it might have occurred to you that it was time for us to leave." . "Us?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you? How forgetful of me. I'll be joining you."
"You most certainly will nor!" Belgarath said.
"I hate to contradict you, Ancient One," she said regretfully, "but I'm acting on orders." She turned to Silk. "My uncle has been a little nervous about some of your activities during the past few years. He trusts you, my dear Kheldar—you must never think that he doesn't trust you— but he does sort of want somebody to keep an eye on you." She frowned. "I think that he's going to be quite cross when he hears about your midnight visits to the Honeth family."
"You know the rules, Liselle," Silk replied. "Bethra was one of our people. We don't let those things go."
"Naturally not. But Javelin prefers to order that sort of retaliation personally. Your somewhat hasty vengeance has robbed him of that opportunity. You're just too independent, Silk. He's right, you know. You do need to be watched." She pursed her lips slightly. "I must admit, though, that it was a very nice job."
"Now you listen to me, young lady," Belgarath said hotly. "I am not conducting a guided tour for the benefit of the Drasnian spy network."
She gave him a disarming little smile and fondly patted his bearded cheek. "Oh, come now, Belgarath," she said, her soft brown eyes appealing, "do be reasonable. Wouldn't it be more civilized—and convenient—to have me in your party rather than trailing along behind you? I am going to follow my orders, Revered One, whether you like it or not."
"Why is it that I have to be surrounded by women who won't do as they're told?"
Her eyes went very wide. "Because we love you, Immortal One," she explained outrageously. "You're the answer to every maiden's dreams, and we follow you out of blind devotion."
"That's about enough of that, Miss," he said ominously. "You're not going with us, and that's final."
"You know," the dry voice in Garion's mind mused, "I think I've finally isolated the difficulty I've always had with Belgarath. It's his pure, pigheaded contrariness. He doesn't really have any reason for these arbitrary decisions of his. He just does it to irritate me."
"Do you mean that she's supposed to go along?" Garion blurted, so startled that he said it aloud.
"Of course she is. Why do you think I went to all the trouble to get her to Tol Honeth before you all left. Go ahead and tell him."
Belgarath's expression, however, clearly showed that Garion's inadvertent exclamation had already told him that he had just been overruled. "Another visitation, I take it?" he said in a slightly sick tone of voice.