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“I’m in the palace,” Silk said. “Maybe I can pry it out of somebody.”

“There’s something else you should know, Prince Kheldar. Word has leaked out that the consortium is also going to propose certain regulations to Baron Vasca of the Bureau of Commerce. They’ll present them under the guise of protecting the economy, but the fact of the matter is that they’re aimed at you and Yarblek. They want to restrict western merchants who gross more than ten million a year to two or three enclaves on the west-coast. That wouldn’t inconvenience smaller merchants, but it would probably put us out of business.”

“Can we bribe someone to put a stop to it?”

“We’re already paying Vasca a fortune to leave us alone, but the consortium is throwing money around like water. It’s possible that the baron won’t stay bribed.”

“Let me nose around inside the palace a bit,” Silk said, “before you double Vasca’s bribe or anything.”

“Bribery’s the standard procedure, Prince Kheldar.”

“I know, but sometimes blackmail works even better.” Silk looked over at Garion, then back at his factor. “What do you know about what’s happening in Karanda?” he asked.

“Enough to know that it’s disastrous for business. All sorts of perfectly respectable and otherwise sensible merchants are closing up their shops and flocking off to Calida to enlist in Mengha’s army. Then they march around in circles singing ‘Death to the Angaraks’ while they wave rusty swords in the air.”

“Any chance of selling them weapons?” Silk asked quickly.

“Probably not. There’s not enough real money in northern Karanda make it worthwhile to try to deal with them, and the political unrest has closed down all the mines. The market in gem stones has just about dried up.”

Silk nodded glumly. “What’s really going on up there, Dolmar?” he asked. “The reports Brador passed on to us were sort of sketchy.”

“Mengha arrived at the gates of Calida with demons.” The factor shrugged. “The Karands went into hysterics and then fell down in the throes of religious ecstasy.”

“Brador told us about certain atrocities,” Garion said.

“I expect that the reports he received were a trifle exaggerated, your Majesty,” Dolmar replied. “Even the most well trained observer is likely to multiply mutilated corpses lying in the streets by ten. In point of fact, the vast majority of the casualties were either Melcene or Angarak. Mengha’s demons rather scrupulously avoided killing Karands—except by accident. The same has held true in every city that he’s taken so far.” He scratched at his head, his close-set eyes narrowing. “It’s really very shrewd, you know. The Karands see Mengha as a liberator and his demons as an invincible spearhead of their army. I can’t swear to his real motives, but those barbarians up there believe that he’s a savior come to sweep Karanda clean of Angaraks and the Melcene bureaucracy. Give him another six months or so, and he’ll accomplish what no one has ever been able to do before.”

“What’s that?” Silk asked.

“Unify all of Karanda.”

“Does he use his demons in the assault on every city he takes?” Garion asked, wanting to confirm what Brador had told them.

Dolmar shook his head. “Not anymore, your Majesty. After what happened at Calida and several other towns he took early in his campaign, he doesn’t really have to. All he’s been doing lately is marching up to the city. The demons are with him, of course, but they don’t have to do anything but stand there looking awful. The Karands butcher all the Angaraks and Melcenes in town, throw open their gates, and welcome him with open arms. Then his demons vanish.” He thought a moment. “He always has one particular one of them with him, though—a shadowy sort of creature that doesn’t seem to be gigantic the way they’re supposed to be. He stands directly behind Mengha’s left shoulder at any public appearance.”

A sudden thought occurred to Garion. “Are they desecrating Grolim temples?” he asked.

Dolmar blinked. “No,” he replied with some surprise, “as a matter of fact, they’re not—and there don’t seem to be any Grolims among the dead, either. Of course it’s possible that Urvon pulled all his Grolims out of Karanda when the trouble started.”

“That’s unlikely,” Garion disagreed. “Mengha’s arrival at Calida came without any kind of warning. The Grolims wouldn’t have had time to escape. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking hard.

“What is it, Garion?” Silk asked.

“I just had a chilling sort of notion. We know that Mengha’s a Grolim, right?”

“I didn’t know that,” Dolmar said with some surprise.

“We got a bit of inside information,” Silk told him. “Go ahead, Garion.”

“Urvon spends all of his time in Mal Yaska, doesn’t he?”

Silk nodded. “So I’ve heard. He doesn’t want Beldin to catch him out in the open.”

“Wouldn’t that make him a fairly ineffective leader? All right, then. Let’s suppose that Mengha went through his period of despair after the death of Torak and then found a magician to teach him how to raise demons.When he comes back, he offers his former Grolim brethren an alternative to Urvon—along with access to a kind of power they’d never experienced before. A demon in the hands of an illiterate and fairly stupid Karandese magician is one thing, but a demon controlled by a Grolim sorcerer would be much worse, I think. If Mengha is gathering disaffected Grolims around him and training them in the use of magic, we have a big problem. I don’t think I’d care to face a legion of Chabats, would you?”

Silk shuddered. “Not hardly,” he replied fervently.

“He has to be uprooted then,” Dolmar said, “and soon.”

Garion made a sour face. “’Zakath won’t move until he gets his army back from Cthol Murgos—about three months from now.”

“In three months, Mengha’s going to be invincible,” the actor told him.

“Then we’ll have to move now,” Garion said, “with ’Zakath or without him.”

“How do you plan to get out of the city?” Silk asked.

“We’ll let Belgarath work that out.” Garion looked at Silk’s agent. “Can you tell us anything else?” he asked.

Dolmar tugged at his nose in a curious imitation of Silk’s habitual gesture. “It’s only a rumor,” he said.

“Go ahead.”

” I’ve been getting some hints out of Karanda that Mengha’s familiar demon is named Nahaz.”

“Is that significant?”

“I can’t be altogether sure, your Majesty. When the Grolims went into Karanda in the second millennium, they destroyed all traces of Karandese mythology, and no one has ever tried to record what few bits and pieces remained. All that’s left is a hazy oral tradition, but the rumors I’ve heard say that Nahaz was the tribal demon of the original Karands who migrated into the region before the Angaraks came to Mallorea. The Karands follow Mengha not only because he’s a political leader, but also because he’s resurrected the closest thing they’ve ever had to a God of their own.”

“A Demon Lord?” Garion asked him.

“That’s a very good way to describe him, your Majesty. If the rumors are true, the demon Nahaz has almost unlimited power.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

Later, when they were back out in the street, Garion looked curiously at Silk. “Why didn’t you object when he burned those documents?” he asked.

“It’s standard practice.” the rat-faced man shrugged. “We never keep anything in writing. Dolmar has everything committed to memory.”

“Doesn’t that make it fairly easy for him to steal from you?”

“Of course, but he keeps his thievery within reasonable limits. If the Bureau of Taxation got its hands on written records, though, it could be a disaster. Do you want to go back to the palace now?”