At any rate, the Honethite emperors had been going downhill for the past century or so, and the Vorduvians were slavering with anticipation, feeling that their turn on the throne was just around the corner.
It was early summer when I reached Tol Honeth. Since it was their native city, the Honethite emperors had devoted much of their time - and most of the imperial treasury - to improving the capital. Any time the Honeths are in power in Tolnedra, an investment in marble quarries will yield handsome returns.
I crossed the north bridge to the city and paused at the gate to answer the perfunctory questions of the legionnaires standing guard there. Their armor was very impressive, but they weren’t. I made a mental note of the fact that the legions seemed to be getting badly out of condition. Somebody was going to have to do something about that.
The streets were crowded. The streets of Tol Honeth always are. Everybody in Tolnedra who thinks he’s important gravitates to the capital. Proximity to the seat of power is very important to certain kinds of people.
In a roundabout sort of way I was a religious personage, so, as I had in Arendia, I went looking for a church. The main temple of Nedra had been moved since I’d last been in Tol Honeth, so I had to ask directions. I knew better than to ask any of the richly dressed merchant princes passing by with perfumed handkerchiefs held to their noses and haughty expressions on their faces. Instead, I found an honest man replacing broken cobblestones. ‘Tell me, friend,’ I said to him, ‘which way should I go to reach the Temple of Nedra?’
‘It’s over on the south side of the imperial palace,’ he replied. ‘Go on down to the end of this street and turn left.’ He paused and squinted at me. ‘You’ll need money to get in,’ he advised me.
‘Oh?’
‘It’s a new custom. You have to pay the priest at the door to get inside - and pay another priest to get near the altar.’
‘Peculiar notion.’
‘This is Tol Honeth, friend. Nothing’s free here, and the priests are just as greedy as everybody else.’
‘I think I can come up with something they’d rather have than money.’
‘I wouldn’t make any large wagers on that. Good luck.’
‘I think you dropped something there, friend,’ I told him, pointing at the large copper Tolnedran penny I’d just conjured up and dropped on the stones by his left knee. He had been helpful, after all.
He quickly snatched up the penny - probably the equivalent of a day’s wages - and looked around furtively.
‘Be happy in your work,’ I told him and moved off down the street.
The temple of Nedra was like a palace, an imposing marble structure that exuded all the warmth of a mausoleum. The common people prayed outside in little niches along the wall. The inside was reserved for the people who could afford to pay the bribes. ‘I need to talk with the High Priest,’ I told the clergyman guarding the huge door.
He looked me up and down disdainfully. ‘Absolutely out of the question. You should know better than even to ask.’
‘I didn’t ask. I told you. Now go fetch him - or get out of my way and I’ll find him myself.’
‘Get away from here.’
‘We’re not getting off to a good start here, friend. Let’s try it again. My name’s Belgarath, and I’m here to see the High Priest.’
‘Belgarath?’ He laughed sardonically. ‘There’s no such person. Go away.’
I translocated him to a spot several hundred yards up the street and marched inside. I was definitely going to have words with the High Priest about this practice of charging admission to a place of worship; not even Nedra would have approved of that. The temple was crawling with priests, and each one seemed to have his hand out. I avoided confrontations by the simple expedient of creating a halo, which I cocked rather rakishly over one ear. I’m not certain if Tolnedran theology includes a calendar of saints, but I did get the attention of the priests - and their whole-hearted cooperation. And I didn’t even have to pay for it.
The High Priest’s name was Arthon, and he was a paunchy man in an elaborately jeweled robe. He took one look at my halo and greeted me with a certain apprehensive enthusiasm. I introduced myself, and he became very nervous. It wasn’t really any of my business that he was violating the rules, but I saw no reason to let him know that. ‘We’ve heard about your adventures in Mallorea, Holy Belgarath,’ he gushed at me. ‘Did you really kill Torak?’
‘Somebody’s been spinning moonbeams for you, Arthon,’ I replied. ‘I’m not the one who’s supposed to do that. We just went there to recover something that’d been stolen.’
‘Oh.’ He sounded disappointed. ‘To what do we owe the honor of your visit, Ancient One?’
I shrugged. ‘Courtesy. I was passing through, and I thought I ought to look in on you. Has anyone heard from Nedra?’
‘Our God has departed, Belgarath,’ he reminded me.
‘All the Gods have departed, Arthon. They do have ways to keep in touch, though. Belar spoke to Riva in a dream, and Aldur came to me the same way no more than a couple of months ago. Pay attention to your dreams. They might be significant.’
‘I did have a peculiar dream about six months ago,’ he recalled. ‘It seemed that Nedra spoke to me.’
‘What did he say?’
‘I forget now. I think it had something to do with money.’
‘Doesn’t it always?’ I thought about it for a moment. ‘It probably involved this new custom of yours. I don’t think Nedra would approve of the practice of charging admission to the temple. He’s the God of all Tolnedrans, not just the ones who can afford to buy their way into your church.’
A wave of consternation crossed his face. ‘But -’ he started to protest.
‘I’ve seen some of the creatures who live in Hell, Arthon,’ I told him quite firmly. ‘You don’t want to spend any time with them. It’s up to you, though. What’s happening here in Tolnedra?’
‘Oh, not too much, Belgarath.’ He said it just a bit evasively, and I could almost smell what he was trying to hide.
I sighed. ‘Don’t be coy, Arthon,’ I told him wearily. ‘The Church is not supposed to get involved in politics. You’ve been taking bribes, haven’t you?’
‘How did you know that?’ His voice was a little shrill.
‘I can read you like a book, Arthon. Give the money back and keep your nose out of politics.’
‘You must pay a call on the emperor,’ he said, skillfully sidestepping the issue.
‘I’ve met members of the Honeth family before. One’s pretty much the same as the others.’
‘His Majesty will be offended if you don’t call on him.’
‘Spare him the anguish then. Don’t tell him that I’ve been here.’
He wouldn’t hear of that, of course. He definitely didn’t want me to start probing into the question of who was bribing him, nor of how large his share of the admission fees was, so he escorted me to the palace, which was teeming with members of the Honeth family. Patronage is the absolute soul of Tolnedran politics. Even the toll-takers at the most remote bridges in the empire change when a new dynasty comes into power.
The current emperor was Ran Honeth the Twenty-something or other, and he’d discarded imbecility in favor of the unexplored territory of idiocy. As is usually the case in such situations, an officious relative had assumed his defective kinsman’s authority, scrupulously prefacing each of his personal decrees with, ‘The emperor has decided …’ or some other absurdity, thus maintaining the dignity of the cretin on the throne. The relative, a nephew in this case, kept Arthon and me cooling our heels in an anteroom for two days while he escorted all manner of high-ranking Tolnedrans immediately into the imperial presence.
Eventually, I got tired of it. ‘Let’s go, Arthon,’ I told Nedra’s priest. ‘We both have better things to do.’
‘We cannot!’ Arthon gasped. ‘It would be considered a mortal insult!’
‘So? I’ve insulted Gods in my time, Arthon. I’m not going to worry about hurting the feelings of a half-wit.’
‘Let me talk with the Lord High Chamberlain again.’ He jumped to his feet and hurried across the room to speak with the imperial nephew.
The nephew was a typical Honeth. His first response was to look down his nose at me. ‘You will await his Imperial Majesty’s pleasure,’ he told me in a lofty tone.
Since he was feeling so lofty, I stood him on a vacant patch of empty air up near the rafters so that he could really look down on people. I’ll grant you that it was petty, but then so was he. ‘Do you think that his Imperial Majesty’s pleasure might have worked its way around to us yet, old boy?’ I asked him in a pleasant tone. I left him up there for a little while to make sure that he got my point, and then I brought him down again.
We got in to see the emperor immediately.
This particular Ran Honeth was sitting on the imperial throne sucking his thumb. The blood-line had deteriorated even further than I’d imagined. I nudged at the corner of his mind and didn’t find anything in there. He haltingly recited a few imperial pleasantries - I shudder to think of how long it must have taken him to memorize them - and then he regally gave Arthon and me permission to withdraw. His entire performance was somewhat marred by the fact that forty some-odd years of sucking his thumb had grossly misaligned his front teeth. He looked like a rabbit, and he lisped outrageously.