"Why do you persist in being so frivolous, Urgit?"
"Why don't we just call it a symptom of my incipient madness?"
"You're not going to go mad," she said firmly.
"Of course I'm going to go mad, mother. I'm rather looking forward to it."
"You're impossible to talk with when you're like this," she chided him. "Are you going to stay up much longer?"
"I don't think so. Sadi and I have a few things to discuss, but they can wait until tomorrow,"
The Queen Mother turned back to Polgara. "My quarters are most spacious, Lady," she said. "Would you and your attendants care to share them with me during your stay here in the Drojim?"
"We would be honored, my Lady," Polgara said.
"Very well, then," Urgit's mother said. "Prala," she called.
The girl who stepped from the shadows behind the throne was slender and perhaps sixteen years old. She wore a black gown and had long, lustrous black hair. The dark, angular eyes that made most Murgo men look so alien were in her case very large and delicately almond-shaped, giving her features an exotic beauty. Her expression, however, was filled with a resolve uncommon in one so young. She stepped to Lady Tamazin's chair and helped her to her feet.
Urgit's face darkened, and his eyes grew flinty as he watched his mother limp down from the dais, leaning heavily on the girl's shoulder. "A little gift from the inestimable Taur Urgas," he said to Sadi. "One evening when he was feeling playful, he knocked my mother down a flight of stairs and broke her hip. She's had that limp ever since."
"I don't even notice it any more, Urgit."
"It's amazing how all of our minor aches and pains got better right after King Cho-Hag's saber slid through my father's guts." Urgit paused. "I wonder if it's too late to send Cho-Hag some small token of appreciation," he added.
"Oh," the Queen Mother said to Polgara, "this is Lady - Prala, a princess of the House of Cthan."
"Princess," Polgara greeted the slender girl supporting Lady Tamazin.
"My Lady," Prala responded in a clear voice.
Lady Tamazin, leaning on Prala's shoulder, slowly limped from the room with Polgara, Ce'Nedra, and Velvet close behind her.
"That girl makes me very nervous for some reason," Urgit muttered to Sadi. "My mother dotes on her, but she has something else on her mind. She never takes her eyes off me." He shook his head as if to dismiss an unwelcome thought. "You and your people have had a very busy day, Sadi. We can talk further tomorrow after we've both had a good night's sleep." He reached out and tugged at a silken bell pull, and there was the heavy note of a large gong somewhere outside the throne room. Urgit rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "Why does it always have to be those great bongs and clangs?" he complained. "Someday, I'd like to tug on a bell pull and hear a tiny little tinkle."
The door at the far end of the throne room opened, and a heavy-shouldered Murgo of late middle age entered. His hair was gray, and his scarred face was heavily lined. There was no hint that a smile had ever touched that grim face. "Your Majesty rang?" he said in a rasping voice.
"Yes, Oskatat," Urgit replied in an oddly respectful tone.
"Do you suppose that you could escort my good friend Sadi and his servants to suitable quarters?" He turned back to Sadi. "Oskatat is Lord High Seneschal here," he said. "He Served my father in the same capacity at Rak Goska." There was no hint of his usual mockery as he spoke. "My mother and I were not popular in my father's house, and Oskatat was the closest thing to a friend either of us had there."
"My Lord," Sadi said to the big, gray-haired man with a deep bow.
The seneschal nodded a curt response, then returned his bleak gaze to the king. "Has my Lady Tamazin retired for the night?" he asked.
"Yes, Oskatat."
"Then you should also seek your bed. The hour is late."
"I was just on my way," Urgit answered, getting quickly to his feet. Then he stopped. "Oskatat," he said plaintively, "I'm not a sickly little boy any more. I don't really need to spend twelve hours in bed every night the way I used to."
"The burdens of the crown are many," the seneschal said shortly. "You need your rest." He turned back to Sadi. "Follow me," he said, starting toward the door.
"Until tomorrow then, Sadi," Urgit said. "Sleep well."
"My thanks, your Majesty."
The rooms to which the bleak-faced Oskatat took them were as garish as the rest of the Drojim Palace. The walls were painted an unwholesome mustard-yellow and hung with splotchy tapestries. The furnishings were carved from rare, priceless woods, and the blue Mallorean carpet was as deep as the wool on the back of a sheep. Once he had opened the door for them, Oskatat jerked his head in the briefest of nods, then turned and left them alone.
"Charming fellow there," Sadi murmured.
Garion had been looking curiously at Silk, who still had his face covered by his hood. "Why are you trying so hard to hide?" he asked.
The little man pulled back his hood with a rueful expression. "One of the disadvantages of being a world traveler is that one keeps running into old friends."
"I'm not sure I follow you."
"Do you remember that time when we were on our way to Rak Cthol and Taur Urgas caught me and stuck me in that pit?"
"Yes."
"And do you remember why he did that—and why he planned to peel off my skin inch by inch the next day?"
"You said that you'd been in Rak Goska once and accidentally killed his eldest son."
"Right. You have an excellent memory, Garion. Well, as it happened, I'd been engaged in some negotiations with Taur Urgas himself before that unfortunate incident. I visited the palace in Rak Goska frequently and met the Lady Tamazin several times. She's almost certain to remember me— particularly in view of the fact that she said that she knew my father."
"That could cause some problems," Belgarath said.
"Not if I avoid her." Silk shrugged. "Murgo women seldom socialize with men—particularly with strangers—so I don't imagine we'll be bumping into each other very often in the next few days. Oskatat could be a different matter, though. I also met him while I was there."
"I think that, if it's at all possible, you ought to stay here in our rooms," the old man suggested. "It might even keep you out of trouble for a change."