"I've been cutting down," Yarblek said rather piously. "My stomach isn't what it used to be."
" Did you happen to see Belgarath on your way here?" Silk asked Garion.
"No. Should I have?"
"I sent for him, too. Yarblek's got some information for us, and I want the old man to get it firsthand."
Garion looked at Silk's coarse-faced partner. " How long have you been in Mal Zeth?" he asked.
"We got in last night," Yarblek replied, dipping his cup into the ale keg again." Dolmar told me that you were all here in the palace, so I came by this morning to look you up."
"How long are you going to stay in town?" Silk asked him.
Yarblek tugged at his scraggly beard and squinted up at the arbor. "That's kind of hard to say," he said. "Dolmar picked up most of what I need, but I want to nose around the markets a bit. There's a Tolnedran in Boktor who said that he's interested in uncut gem stones. I could pick up a quick fortune on that transaction -particularly if I could sneak the stones past Drasnian customs."
"Don't Queen Porenn's customs agents search your packs pretty thoroughly?" Garion asked him.
"From top to bottom," Yarblek laughed, "And they pat me down as well. They don't , however, lay one finger on Vella. They've all learned how quick she is with her daggers. I've made back what I paid for her a dozen times over by hiding little packages here and there in her clothes." He laughed coarsely. "And of course the hiding is sort of fun, too." He belched thunderously.
"Par'me," he said.
Belgarath came across the lawn. The old man had resisted all of Zakath's tactful offers of less disreputable raiment, and still wore, defiantly, Garion thought, his stained tunic, patched hose, and mismatched boots.
"Well, I see that you finally got here," he said to Yarblek without any preamble.
"I got tied up in Mal Camat," the Nadrak replied. "Kal Zakath is commandeering ships all up and down the west-coast to bring his army back from stinking Cthol Murgos. I had to hire boats and hide them in the marshes north of the ruins of Cthol Mishrak." He pointed at the ale keg. "You want some of this?" he asked.
"Naturally. Have you got another cup?"
Yarblek patted here and there at his voluminous coat, reached into an inside pocket, and drew out a squat, dented tankard.
"I like a man who comes prepared."
"A proper host is always ready. Help yourself. Just try not to spill too much." The Nadrak looked at Garion."How about you?" he asked. "I think I could find another cup"
"No. Thanks anyway, Yarblek. It's a little early for me."
Then a short, gaudily dressed man came around the arbor. His clothes were a riot of frequently conflicting colors. One sleeve was green, the other red. One leg of his hose was striped in pink and yellow and the other covered with large blue polka dots. He wore a tall, pointed cap with a bell attached to the peak. It was not his outrageous clothing that was so surprising, however. What caught Garion's eye first was the fact that the man was quite casually walking on his hands with both feet extended into the air. "Did I hear somebody offer somebody a little drop of somethin' to drink" he asked in a strange, lilting brogue that Garion did not quite recognize.
Yarblek gave the colorful little fellow a sour look and reached inside his coat again.
The acrobat flexed his shoulders, thrusting himself into the air, flipped over in midair, and landed on his feet. He briskly brushed off his hands and came toward Yarblek with an ingratiating smile. His face was nondescript, the kind of face that would be forgotten almost as soon as it was seen, but for some reason, it seemed to Garion to be naggingly familiar.
"Ah, good master Yarblek," the man said to Silk's partner, "I'm sure that yer the kindest man alive. I was near to perishin' of thirst, don't y' know?" He took the cup, dipped into the ale keg, and drank noisily. Then he let out his breath with a gusty sound of appreciation.
"Tis a good brew ye have there, Master Yarblek," he said, dipping again into the keg.
Belgarath had a peculiar expression on his face, partly puzzled but at the same time partially amused.
"He came tagging along when we left Mal Camat," Yarblek told them. "Vella finds him amusing, so I haven't chased him off yet. She turns a little shrill when she doesn't get her own wary."
"The name is Feldegast, fine gentlemen," the gaudy little fellow introduced himself with an exaggerated bow. "Feldegast the juggler. I be also an acrobat -as ye've seen fer yerselves- a comedian of no mean ability, and an accomplished magician. I can baffle yer eyes with me unearthly skill at prestidigitation, don't y' know. I kin also play rousin' tunes on a little wooden whistle -or, if yer mood be melancholy, I kin play ye sad songs on the lute to bring a lump to yer throat and fill yer eyes with sweet, gentle tears. Would ye be wantin' to witness some of me unspeakable talent?"
"Maybe a little later," Belgarath told him, his eyes still a little bemused. "Right now we have some business to discuss."
"Take another cup of ale and go entertain Vella, comedian," Yarblek said to him. "Tell her some more off-color stories."
" 'Twill be me eternal delight, good Master Yarblek," the outrageous fellow said grandly. "She's a good strappin' wench with a lusty sense of humor and a fine appreciation fer bawdy stories." He dipped out more ale and then capered across the lawn toward the dark-haired Nadrak girl.
" Disgusting," Yarblek growled, looking after him. "some of the stories he tells her make my ears bum, but the nastier they are, the harder she laughs." He shook his head moodily.
"Let's get down to business," Belgarath said. "We need to know what's going on in Karanda right now."
"That's simple," Yarblek told him. "Mengha, that's what's going on. Mengha and his cursed demons."
"Dolmar filled us in," Silk said. "We know about what happened at Calida and about the way that Karands are flocking in to join his army from all over the seven kingdoms. Is he making any moves toward the south yet?"
"Not that I've heard," Yarblek replied. "He seems to be consolidating things through the north right now. He's whipping all of the Karands into hysteria, though. If Zakath doesn't do something quickly, he's going to have a full-scale revolution on his hands. I can tell you, though, that it's not safe to travel in northern Karanda right now. Mengha's shrieking Karands control everything to the coast of Zamad."