Home > Polgara the Sorceress(67)

Polgara the Sorceress(67)
Author: David Eddings

Chapter 13

The more I came to know the Arendish people, the more I appreciated Kathandrion. Whole volumes have been devoted to a misconception about the nature of Arends. The ongoing disaster men call Arendia is not so much the result of congenital stupidity as it is a combination of blind impulsiveness, an irresistible urge toward high drama, and an inability to back away from a course of action once it’s been embarked upon. At least Kathandrion was willing to listen for a moment before he plunged into something. His first impulse in this case, naturally, was to have Ctuchik’s underling seized and dragged in chains through the streets of Vo Wacune – probably at high noon. He was right on the verge of issuing orders to that effect as we proceeded down the corridor to his throne room.

‘Kathandrion,’ I suggested gently, ‘we’re dealing with a conspiracy here. Do we really want to alert all the other conspirators with a public display?’

He looked quickly at me. ‘Not too bright an idea, right?’ he suggested.

‘I’ve heard better.’

‘One of these days I’ll have to learn to think my way through a notion before I start issuing commands,’ he said.

‘I would, if I were you.’

‘I’ll work on it. How would you approach this matter?’

‘Lie a little bit. Send a note to Haldon asking him to stop by at his convenience for a bit of private conversation.’

‘What if he doesn’t find it convenient until sometime next week?’

‘He’ll be here almost immediately, Kathandrion. Trust me. I’ve done this sort of thing before. He’ll take that “at your convenience” to mean just as soon as he gets his clothes on. There are many ways to use power, Kathandrion. A light touch is far better than a sledge-hammer.’

‘What a novel thing to suggest. This is Arendia, Polgara. Commands here must be delivered in short, easy-to-understand language, preferably in words of one syllable or less.’

I found myself growing fonder of Duke Kathandrion by the moment. The invitation he dictated to a scribe when we returned to the throne room was artfully innocuous, and, as I’d predicted, Haldon arrived within the hour.

Evening was settling over the fairy-tale city of Vo Wacune as Kathandrion escorted our guest to a room conveniently located near the head of the stairs leading down to the dungeon. There was but a single lamp in the room, and I sat in a chair with a high back and facing the window. Thus, I was to all intents and purposes invisible.

I carefully sent out my thought as the two of them entered, and the color I encountered didn’t have that characteristic red overtone that would have identified the merchant as Tolnedran, but was dull black instead. The man known as Haldon was a Murgo. I could see his reflection in the glass of the window, and his features had none of the characteristics of the Angarak race. That explained quite a bit.

‘It was good of thee to come by on such short notice, worthy Haldon,’ Kathandrion was saying.

‘I am ever at your Grace’s call,’ the green-mantled fellow replied, bowing.

‘Prithee, sit, my friend. We are alone, so there is no need for ceremony.’ Kathandrion paused artfully. ‘It hath recently been proposed to me that some commercial advantage might accrue to the Duchy of Wacune were I to command some port facilities constructed on the southern bank of the Camaar River within the boundaries of my realm, and it seemed me that thou wert best qualified to evaluate the notion. Would such facilities indeed enhance trade between Wacune and the empire?’

‘Indeed they would, your Grace!’ the imitation Tolnedran replied enthusiastically. ‘The emperor himself has frequently expressed interest in just such a project.’

‘Splendid!’ Kathandrion said. ‘Capital! In view of our forthcoming alliance, might I prevail upon thee to suggest to thine emperor a sharing of the cost of construction of those facilities?’

‘I’m certain that the emperor would look most favorably upon such a proposal.’

A Tolnedran of any rank willing to spend money? That idea in itself would have been enough to expose the so-called Haldon as a fraud.

I’d suggested to the duke that he engage our suspect in some frivolous discussion of a spurious topic ‘to put him off his guard’. In reality, I needed but a moment or two to touch Haldon’s mind to confirm his racial background. The ‘port facility’ myth was of Kathandrion’s own devising, and it confirmed my earlier evaluation of his intelligence.

I let them ramble on for a while, and then I rose from my chair and stepped into the lamplight. ‘I hate to interrupt such pleasant discourse, gentlemen,’ I told them, ‘but we have far to go before dawn, so perhaps we’d better move right along.’ Neither Arends nor Murgos are accustomed to having women intrude in state matters, so I think my crisp interruption startled them both.

The Murgo looked sharply at me, and his face went deathly pale. ‘You!’ he gasped.

That was the first time my presence had ever gotten that reaction.

I was looking at him curiously. ‘How ever did you manage to alter your features, Haldon?’ I asked him. ‘You don’t look the least bit like an Angarak. Did Ctuchik do that to you? It must have been extremely painful.’

His eyes went wary. ‘I’m sorry, madame,’ he said, recovering quickly. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.’

‘Are we actually going to play that tiresome game all the way out to its inevitable conclusion?’ I asked him. ‘How tedious.’ Even as I spoke, I gently probed into the darkest corners of the imitation Tolnedran’s mind, and I was somewhat surprised to discover that the thing he feared most in all the world was my father! I hadn’t expected that, but I realized that it might make the rest of this business quite a bit easier than I’d expected.

‘It seemeth to me that much is transpiring here that I do not understand,’ Kathandrion admitted, looking baffled.

‘It’s really quite simple, your Grace,’ I told him. ‘This gentleman who’s been calling himself “Haldon” is actually a Murgo, whose real name is quite probably unpronounceable. Does that help to clarify things?’

‘But he doth not look like a Murgo, my Lady.’

‘Yes, I noticed that. We’ll have to ask him how he managed it.’

‘She lies!’ our Murgo snarled.

‘That is most unlikely,’ Kathandrion replied in a chill tone. Then he looked at me. ‘It doth appear that he knows of thee, my Lady.’

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