“Can you stir anything up?” Polgara asked, her lips scarcely moving.
“I can try, Lady Polgara,” Velvet replied, “but Brador is right on top of everything that’s happening here in the palace. I’ll talk with Kheldar and Sadi. It’s remotely possible that the three of us can engineer something unexpected enough to give us a chance to slip out of the city.”
“It’s getting fairly urgent, Liselle,” Polgara said. “If Zandramas finds what she’s looking for at Ashaba, she’ll be off again, and we’ll wind up trailing along behind her in the same way that we were back in Cthol Murgos.”
“I’ll see what we can come up with, my lady,” Velvet promised.
“Are you going back inside?” Belgarath asked her.
She nodded.
“I’ll go with you.” He looked around distastefully, “All this fresh air and exercise is a little too wholesome for my taste.
“Walk a bit farther with me, Garion,” Polgara said.
“All right.”
As Velvet and Belgarath turned back toward the east wing of the palace, Garion and his aunt strolled on along the neatly trimmed green lawn lying beneath the blossom-covered trees. A wren, standing on the topmost twig of a gnarled, ancient tree, sang as if his heart would burst,
“What’s he singing about?” Garion asked, suddenly remembering his aunt’s unusual affinity for birds.
“He’s trying to attract the attention of a female,” she replied, smiling gently. “It’s that time of year again. He’s being very eloquent and making all sorts of promises—most of which he’ll break before the summer’s over.”
He smiled and affectionately put his arm about her shoulders.
She sighed happily. “This is pleasant,” she said. “For some reason when we’re apart, I still think of you as a little boy. It always sort of surprises me to find that you’ve grown so tall.”
There wasn’t too much that he could say to that.
“How’s Durnik?” he asked. “I almost never see him these days.”
“He and Toth and Eriond managed to find a well-stocked trout pond on the southern end of the imperial grounds,” she replied with a slightly comical upward roll of her eyes. “They’re catching large numbers of fish, but the kitchen staff is beginning to get a bit surly about the whole thing.”
“Trust Durnik to find water.” Garion laughed. “Is Eriond actually fishing too? That seems a little out of character for him.”
“I don’t think he’s very serious about it. He goes along mostly for Durnik’s company, I think—and because he likes to be outside.” She paused and then looked directly at him. As so many times in the past, he was suddenly struck to the heart by her luminous beauty. “How has Ce’Nedra been lately?” she asked him.
” She’s managed to locate a number of young ladies to keep her company,” he replied. “No matter where we go, she’s always able to surround herself with companions.”
“Ladies like to have other ladies about them, dear,” she said. “Men are nice enough, I suppose, but a woman needs other women to talk to. There are so many important things that men just don’t understand.” Her face grew serious. “There hasn’t been any recurrence of what happened in Cthol Murgos, then?” she asked.
“Not so far as I can tell. She seems fairly normal to me. About the only unusual thing I’ve noticed is that she never talks about Geran anymore.”
“That could just be her way of protecting herself, Garion. She might not be able to put it into words exactly, but she’s aware of the melancholia that came over her at Prolgu, and I’m sure that she realizes that if she gives in to it, she’ll be incapacitated. She still thinks about Geran, I’m sure—probably most of the time—but she just won’t talk about him.” She paused again. “What about the physical side of your marriage?” she asked him directly.
Garion blushed furiously and coughed. “Uh—there really hasn’t been much opportunity for that sort of thing, Aunt Pol—and I think she has too many other things on her mind.”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It’s not a good idea just to ignore that, Garion,” she told him. “After a while, people grow apart if they don’t periodically renew their intimacy.”
He coughed again, still blushing. “She doesn’t really seem very interested, Aunt Pol.”
“That’s your fault, dear. All it takes is a little bit of planning and attention to detail.”
“You make it sound awfully calculated and cold-blooded.”
“Spontaneity is very nice, dear, but there’s a great deal of charm to a well-planned seduction, too.”
“Aunt Pol!” he gasped, shocked to the core.
“You’re an adult, Garion dear,” she reminded him, “and that’s one of an adult man’s responsibilities. Think about it. You can be quite resourceful at times. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She looked out over the sun-washed lawns. “Shall we go back inside now?” she suggested. “I think it’s almost lunch time.”
That afternoon, Garion once again found himself strolling about the palace grounds, this time accompanied by Silk and Sadi the eunuch. “Belgarath needs a diversion,” he told them seriously. “I think he has a plan to get us out of the city, but we’ve got to shake off all the spies who are watching us long enough for him to put it into motion.” He was busily scratching at his nose as he spoke, his hand covering his mouth.
“Hay fever?” Silk asked him.
“No. Velvet told us that some of Brador’s spies are deaf, but that they can tell what you’re saying by watching your lips.”
“What an extraordinary gift,” Sadi murmured. “I wonder if an undeaf man could learn it.”
“I can think of some times myself when it might have been useful,” Silk agreed, covering his mouth as he feigned a cough. He looked at Sadi. “Can I get an honest answer out of you?” he asked.
“That depends on the question, Kheldar.”
“You’re aware of the secret language?”
“Of course.”
“Do you understand it?”
“I’m afraid not. I’ve never met a Drasnian who trusted me enough to teach me.”
“I wonder why.” Sadi flashed him a quick grin.
“I think we can manage if we cover our mouths when we speak,” Garion said.
“Won’t that become a little obvious after a while?” Sadi objected.
“What are they going to do? Tell us to stop?”
“Probably not, but we might want to pass on some disinformation sometimes, and if they know that we know about this way of listening, we won’t be able to do that.” The eunuch sighed about the lost opportunity, then shrugged. “Oh, well,” he said.
Garion looked at Silk. “Do you know of anything that’s going on that we could use to pull the police off our trail?”
“No, not really,” the little man replied. “At the moment the Melcene consortium seems to be concentrating on keeping this year’s price list a secret and trying to persuade Vasca that Yarblek and I should be restrained to those enclaves on the west coast. We’ve got Vasca pretty much in our pockets, though—as long as he stays bribed. There’s a great deal of secret maneuvering going on, but I don’t think anything is close to coming to a head right now. Even if it did, it probably wouldn’t cause a big enough stink to make the secret police abandon their assignment to watch us.”
“Why not go right to the top?” Sadi suggested. “I could talk to Brador and see if he’s susceptible to bribery.”
“I don’t think so,” Garion said. “He’s having us watched on specific orders from ’Zakath. I doubt that any amount of money would make him consider risking his head.”
“There are other ways to bribe people, Belgarion.” Sadi smiled slyly. “I have some things in my case that make people feel very good. The only trouble with them is that after you’ve used them a few times, you have to keep on using them. The pain of stopping is really quite unbearable. I could own Brador within the space of a week and make him do anything I told him to do.”