"More or less," Garion replied. "Sometimes there's more than just a little danger, though."
"I can live with that. My life's been tediously secure so far."
"Even when Naradas poisoned you back in Cthol Murgos?"
"I was too sick to know what was going on," Zakath said. "I envy you, Garion. You've had a wildly exciting life." He frowned slightly. "Something rather peculiar is happening to me," he confessed. "Ever since I agreed to meet Cyradis at Kell, I've felt as if some vast weight had been lifted off me. The whole world looks fresh and new now. I have absolutely no control over my life, and yet I'm as happy as a fish in deep water. It's irrational, but I can't help it."
Garion looked rather closely at him. "Don't misunderstand," he said. "I'm not deliberately trying to be mystical about this, but you're probably happy because you're doing what you're supposed to do. It happens to all of us. It's a part of that different way of looking at things Aunt Pol mentioned earlier, and it's one of the rewards she talked about."
"That's a little obscure for me," Zakath admitted.
"Give it some time," Garion told him. "It comes to you gradually."
General Atesca entered the tent with Brador close behind him. "The horses are ready, your Majesty," he reported in a neutral tone. Garion could tell by Atesca's expression that he still strongly disapproved of this whole business. The General turned to Durnik. "I've added a few more pack animals, Goodman," he said. "Yours were fairly well loaded down."
"Thank you, General," Durnik replied.
"I'm going to be out of touch, Atesca' Zakath said, "so I'm leaving you in charge here. I'll try to get word to you from time to time, but there may be long periods when you won't hear from me."
"Yes, your Majesty," Atesca replied.
"You know what to do, though. Let Brador handle civil matters, and you deal with the military situation. Get the troops back here to this enclave as soon as Urvon and the Darshivans are engaged. And keep in touch with Mal Zeth." He tugged a large signet ring off his finger. "Use this if you need to seal any official documents."
"Such documents require your Majesty's signature," Atesca reminded him.
"Brador can forge it. He writes my name better than I do myself"
"Your Majesty!" Brador protested.
"Don't play innocent with me, Brador. I’ve known about your experiments in penmanship. Take care of my cat while I'm gone, and see if you can find homes for the rest of those kittens."
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Anything else that needs my attention before I leave?"
"Ah—one thing, your Majesty," Atesca said. "A disciplinary matter."
"Can't you take care of it?" Zakath asked a bit irritably. He was obviously impatient to be off.
"I can, your Majesty," Atesca said, "but you've sort of placed the man under your personal protection, so I thought I'd consult with you before I took action."
"Whom am I protecting?" Zakath looked puzzled.
"It's a corporal from the Mal Zeth garrison, your Majesty—a man named Actas. He was drunk on duty."
"Actas? I don't recall—"
"It was that corporal who'd been demoted just before we arrived in Mal Zeth,"
Ce'Nedra reminded him. "The one whose wife was making such a scene in that side street."
"Oh, yes," Zakath said. "Now I remember. Drunk, you say? He's not supposed to drink any more."
"I doubt if he could drink any more, your Majesty," Atesca said with a faint smile, "at least not right now. He's as drunk as a lord."
"Is he nearby?"
"Just outside, your Majesty."
Zakath sighed. "I guess you'd better bring him in," he said. He looked at Belgarath.
"This should only take a moment or two," he apologized.
Garion remembered the scrawny corporal as soon as the fellow staggered into the tent. The corporal tried to come to attention, without much success. Then he attempted to bang his breastplate in a salute, but hit himself in the nose with his fist instead. "Yer Imperrl Majeshy," he slurred.
"What am I going to do with you, Actas," Zakath said wearily.
" I’ve made a beash of myshelf, yer Majeshy,'' Actas confessed, "an absholute beash."
"Yes," Zakath agreed, "you have." He turned his head away. "Please don't breathe on me, Actas. Your mouth smells like a reopened grave. Take him out and sober him up, Atesca."
"I'll personally throw him in the river, your Majesty." Atesca was trying to suppress a grin.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Me, your Majesty?"
Zakath's eyes narrowed slyly. "Well, Ce'Nedra?" he said. "He's your responsibility, too. What do we do with him?"
She waved one little hand negligently. "Hang him," she said in an indifferent tone. She looked more closely at her hand. "Great Nedra!" she exclaimed. "I've broken another fingernail!"
Corporal Actas' eyes were bulging and his mouth was suddenly agape. Trembling violently, he fell to his knees. "Please, your Majesty," he begged, suddenly cold sober. "Please!"
Zakath squinted at the Rivan Queen, who sat mourning the broken nail. "Take him outside, Atesca," he said. "I'll give you orders for his final disposition in a moment."
Atesca saluted and hauled the blubbering Actas to his feet.
"You weren't really serious, were you, Ce'Nedra?" Zakath asked after the two men had left.
"Oh, of course not," she said. "I'm not a monster, Zakath. Clean him up and send him back to his wife." She tapped one finger thoughtfully on her chin. "But erect a gibbet in the street in front of his house. Give him something to think about the next time he gets thirsty.''
"You actually married this woman?" Zakath exclaimed to Garion.
"It was sort of arranged by our families," Garion replied with aplomb. "We didn't have much to say about it."
"Now, be nice, Garion," Ce'Nedra said with unruffled calm.
They mounted their horses outside the pavilion and rode through the camp to the drawbridge spanning the deep, stake-studded ditch that formed a part of the outer fortifications. When they reached the far side of the ditch, Zakath let out an explosive breath of relief.
"What is it?" Garion asked him.
"I was half afraid that somebody might have found a way to keep me there." He glanced a bit apprehensively back over his shoulder. "Do you think we could possibly gallop for a ways?" he asked. "I'd hate to have them catch up with me."