‘Frankly, Khendon, I couldn’t care less about the morale of your professional snoops. This is a matter of supreme urgency.’
‘Has my service ever failed you, your Majesty?’ Javelin’s tone was a bit offended.
‘Twice that I recall. Didn’t the Bear Cult infiltrate your service? And didn’t your people fail abysmally to warn me about General Haldar’s defection?’
Javelin had sighed. ‘All right, Porenn, sometimes a few minor things have escaped us.’
‘You call Haldor’s going over to the Bear-cult minor?’
‘You’re being unnecessarily critical, Porenn.’
‘I want this wing cleared, Javelin. Would you like to have me summon my son? We’ll draw up a proclamation making the prohibition against spying on the royal family permanent.’
‘You wouldn’t!’ Javelin’s face had turned absolutely white. ‘The whole service would collapse. The right to spy on the royal family has always been the highest reward for exemplary service. Most of my people jump at the chance.’ He frowned slightly. ‘Silk’s turned it down three times already, though,’ he added.
‘Then clear them out, Javelin – and don’t forget the closet hidden behind the tapestry in the corridor just outside.’
‘How did you find out about that?’
‘I didn’t. Kheva did, actually.’
Javelin had groaned.
A few hours after that, Porenn sat impatiently in her sitting room with her son, King Kheva. Kheva was maturing rapidly now. His voice had settled into a resonant baritone, and a downy beard had begun to sprout on his cheeks. His mother, in somewhat marked contrast to most regents, had been gradually introducing him into state councils and negotiations with foreign powers. It would not be long now until she could gently guide him to the forefront and gradually withdraw herself from her unwanted position of authority. Kheva would be a good king, she thought. He was very nearly as shrewd as his father had been and he had that most necessary trait in a reigning monarch, good sense.
There was a rather heavy-handed pounding on the sitting-room door. ‘Yes?’ Porenn replied.
‘It’s me, Porenn,’ a brash-sounding voice said, ‘Yarblek.’
‘Come in, Yarblek. We’ve got something to talk about.’
Yarblek pushed the door open, and he and Vella entered. Porenn sighed. During the course of her visit to Gar og Nadrak, Vella had reverted. She had shed the shallow veneer of gentility Porenn had labored so long to create, and her garb indicated that she had once again become the wild, untameable creature she had always been before.
‘What’s all the rush, Porenn?’ Yarblek said gruffly, dumping his shabby felt coat and shaggy hat in the corner. ‘Your messenger almost killed his horse getting to me.’
‘Something urgent has come up,’ the Queen of Drasnia replied. ‘I think it concerns us all. I want you to keep it in strictest confidence, however.’
‘Confidence,’ Yarblek laughed derisively. ‘You know there aren’t any secrets in your palace, Porenn.’
‘There is this time,’ Porenn said a bit smugly. ‘This morning I ordered Javelin to clear all the spies out of this wing of the palace.’
Yarblek grinned. ‘How did he take it?’
‘Badly, I’m afraid.’
‘Good. He’s been getting just a little too sure of himself lately. All right, let’s get down to business. What’s this problem?’
‘In a moment. Did you find out what Drosta’s been up to?’
‘Of course. He’s trying to make peace with Zakath. He’s been dealing – at a distance – with the Mallorean who’s in charge of their Bureau of Internal Affairs; Brador, I think his name is. Anyway, Drosta’s been letting Mallorean agents funnel through Gar og Nadrak to infiltrate the west.’
It was Yarblek’s tone of voice more than anything that warned Porenn that there was more. ‘All of it, Yarblek. You’re holding things back.’
Yarblek sighed. ‘I hate dealing with a clever woman,’ he complained. ‘It seems so unnatural for some reason.’ Then he prudently skipped out of the range of Vella’s daggers. ‘All right,’ he gave up. ‘Zakath needs money and lots of it to deal with the wars he’s got on two different fronts. Drosta’s cut the import duties on Mallorean carpets – at least to the merchants who pay taxes to Mal Zeth. Those Malloreans have been scalping Silk and me in the Arendish markets.’
‘I assume you took advantage of that information?’
‘Naturally.’ He thought a moment. ‘Here’s your chance to make a tidy profit, Porenn,’ he suggested. ‘Drosta’s cut the import duties to the Malloreans by fifteen percent. You could raise your duties by the same amount. You’ll make money, and Silk and I can stay competitive.’
‘I think you’re trying to swindle me, Yarblek,’ Porenn said suspiciously.
‘Me?’
‘We’ll talk about it later. Now, listen very carefully. This is the reason I sent for you. Barak, Mandorallen, Hettar, Lelldorin, and Relg are sailing to Mallorea. We’re not entirely positive, but we think they plan to intrude themselves in Belgarion’s quest. You were there at Rheon, and you know that that Dalasian Seeress told us. Those hotheads absolutely have to stay out of it.’
‘I’ll certainly agree about that.’
‘How fast can you get a message to your people in Mallorea?’
‘A few weeks. Maybe a little faster if I make it a top priority.’
‘This matter has the highest priority, Yarblek. Anheg and Varana are chasing Barak, but we can’t be sure they’ll catch him in time. We have to delay Barak, and the best way to do that is to feed him misinformation. I want you to instruct your people in Mallorea to tell Barak lies. Keep him going off in the wrong direction every chance you get. Barak will be following Kheldar, so he’ll be checking in at every one of your branch offices in Mallorea for information. If Kheldar and the others are going to Maga Renn or Penn Daka, have your people tell Barak that he’s going to Mal Dariya.’
‘I know the procedure, Porenn,’ Yarblek said. He squinted at her speculatively. ‘You’ll be turning authority here in Drasnia over to his Majesty here fairly soon, won’t you?’ he asked her.
‘In a few years, yes.’
‘When this business in Mallorea is concluded, I think Silk and I might want to have a long discussion with you.’