"Of course," Garion said dryly.
"Belgarath asked me to stop by," the little man continued. "There's a large room upstairs. We're gathering there for a council of war."
"War?"
"Metaphorically speaking, of course."
"Oh. Of course."
The room at the top of a flight of marble stairs to which Silk led Garion and Ce'Nedra was quite large, and there was a throne-like chair on a dais against the back wall.
Garion looked about at the lush furnishings and heavy crimson drapes. "This isn't the throne room, is it?" he asked.
"No," Silk replied. " At least not Kal Zakath's official one. It's here to make visiting royalty feel at home. Some kings get nervous when they don't have official-looking surroundings to play in."
"Oh."
Belgarath sat with his mismatched boots up on a polished table. His hair and beard were slightly damp, evidence that, despite his pretended indifference to bathing, he had in fact followed Polgara's instructions. Polgara and Durnik were talking quietly at one side, and Eriond and Toth were nearby. Velvet and Sadi stood looking out the window at the formal garden lying to the east of Zakath's sprawling palace.
"All right," the old sorcerer said, "I guess we're all here now. I think we need to talk."
-I wouldn't say anything too specific- Silk's fingers said in the gestures of the Drasnian secret language.-It's almost certain that there are a few spies about-
Belgarath looked at the far wall, his eyes narrowed as he searched it inch by inch for hidden peepholes. He grunted and looked at Polgara.
"I'll look into it, father," she murmured. Her eyes grew distant, and Garion felt the familiar surge. After a moment she nodded and held up three fingers. She concentrated for a moment, and the quality of the surge changed, seeming somehow languorous. Then she straightened and relaxed her will. "It's all right now," she told them calmly. "They fell asleep."
"That was very smooth, Pol," Durnik said admiringly.
"Why, thank you, dear," she smiled, laying her hand on his.
Belgarath put his feet on the floor and leaned forward.
"That's one more thing for us all to keep in mind," he said seriously. "We're likely to be watched all the time that we're here in Mal Zeth, so be careful. Zakath's a skeptic, so we can't really be sure just how much of what we've told him he believes. It's altogether possible that he has other things in mind for us. Right now he needs our help in dealing with Mengha, but he still hasn't entirely abandoned his campaign in Cthol Murgos, and he might want to use us to bring the Alorns and the others into that war on his side. He's also got problems with Urvon and Zandramas. We don't have the time to get caught up in internal Mallorean politics. At the moment, though, we're more or less in his power, so let's be careful."
"We can leave any time we need to, Belgarath," Durnik said confidently.
"I'd rather not do it that way unless we have absolutely no other choice," the old man replied. "Zakath's the kind of man who's very likely to grow testy if he's thwarted, and I don't want to have to creep around dodging his soldiers. It takes too much time and it's dangerous. I'll be a lot happier if we can leave Mal Zeth with his blessing -or at least with his consent."
"I want to get to Ashaba before Zandramas has time to escape again," Garion insisted.
"So do I, Garion," his grandfather said, "but we don't know what she's doing there, so we don't know how long she's likely to stay."
"She's been looking for something, father," Polgara told the old man. "I saw that in her mind when I trapped her back in Rak Hagga."
He looked at her thoughtfully. "Could you get any idea of what it was, Pol?"
She shook her head. "Not specifically," she replied. "I think it's information of some kind. She can't go any further until she finds it. I was able to pick that much out of her thoughts."
"Whatever it is, has to be well hidden," he said. "Beldin and I took Ashaba apart after the Battle of Vo Mimbre and we didn't find anything out of the ordinary -if you can accept the idea that Torak's house was in any way ordinary."
"Can we be sure that she's still there with my baby?" Ce'Nedra asked intently.
"No, dear," Polgara told her. "She's taken steps to hide her mind from me. She's rather good, actually."
"Even if she's left Ashaba, the Orb can pick up her trail again," Belgarath said. "The chances are pretty good that she hasn't found what she's looking for, and that effectively nails her down at Ashaba. If she has found it, she won't be hard to follow."
"We're going on to Ashaba, then?" Sadi asked. "What I'm getting at is that our concern about Mengha was just a ruse to get us to Mallorea, wasn't it?"
"I think I'm going to need more information before I make any decisions about that. The situation in northern Karanda is serious, certainly, but let's not lose sight of the fact that our primary goal is Zandramas, and she's at Ashaba. Before I can decide anything, though, I need to know more about what's going on here in Mallorea."
"My department," Silk volunteered.
"And mine," Velvet added.
"I might be able to help a bit as well," Sadi noted with a faint smile. He frowned then. "Seriously though, Belgarath," he continued, "you and your family here represent power. I don't think we're going to have much luck at persuading Kal Zakath to let you go willingly -no matter how cordial he may appear on the surface."
The old man nodded glumly. "It might turn out that way after all," he agreed. Then he looked at Silk, Velvet, and Sadi. "Be careful," he cautioned them, "Don't let your instincts run away with you. I need information, but don't stir up any hornets' nests getting it for me." He looked pointedly at Silk. "I hope I've made myself clear about this," he said. "Don't complicate things just for the fun of it."
"Trust me, Belgarath," Silk replied with a bland smile.
"Of course he trusts you, Kheldar," Velvet assured the little man.
Belgarath looked at his impromptu spy network and shook his head. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to regret this?" he muttered.
"I'll keep an eye on them, Belgarath," Sadi promised.
"Of course, but who's going to keep an eye on you?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
That evening they were escorted with some ceremony through the echoing halls of Zakath's palace to a banquet hall that appeared to be only slightly smaller than a parade ground. The hall was approached by way of a broad, curved stairway lined on either side with branched candelabra and liveried trumpeteers. The stairway was obviously designed to facilitate grand entrances. Each new arrival was announced by a stirring fanfare and the booming voice of a gray-haired herald so thin that it almost appeared that a lifetime of shouting had worn him down to a shadow.Garion and his friends waited in a small antechamber while the last of the local dignitaries were announced.