David Eddings - Pawn of Prophecy

"But," Queen Porenn objected, "with her eyes restored, she’ll lose that other vision, won’t she?"

"I imagine so," Aunt Pol said, "but that’s a small price to pay, isn’t it?"

"She’ll no longer be a witch, then?" Porenn pressed.

"She wasn’t a very good witch anyway," Aunt Pol said. "Her vision was clouded and uncertain. It’s better this way, She won’t be disturbing herself and others with shadows anymore." She looked at King Anheg who sat frozen in awe beside his half-fainting queen. "Shall we continue?" she asked calmly. "Our ship is waiting."

The horses, as if released by her words, leaped forward, and the sleighs sped away from the temple, spraying snow from their runners.

Garion glanced back once. Old Martje stood on the steps of the temple looking at her two outstretched hands and sobbing uncontrollably.

"We’ve been been privileged to witness a miracle, my friends," Hettar said.

"I gather, however, that the beneficiary was not very pleased with it," Silk said dryly. "Remind me not to offend Polgara. Her miracles seem to have two edges to them."

The low-slanting rays of the morning sun glittered on the icy waters of the harbor as their sleighs halted near the stone quays. Greldik’s ship rocked and strained at her hawsers, and a smaller ship also waited with seeming impatience.

Hettar stepped down and went over to speak to Cho-Hag and Queen Silar. The three of them talked together quietly and seriously, drawing a kind of shell of privacy about them.

Queen Islena had partially regained her composure and sat in her sleigh straight-backed and with a fixed smile on her face. After Anheg had gone to speak with Mister Wolf, Aunt Pol crossed the Icy wharf and stopped near the sleigh of the Queen of Cherek.

"If I were you, Islena," she said firmly, "I’d find another hobby. Your gifts in the arts of sorcery are limited, and it’s a dangerous area for dabbling. Too many things can go wrong if you don’t know what you are doing.

The queen stared at her mutely.

"Oh," Aunt Pol said, "one other thing. It would be best, I think, if you broke off your connections with the Bear-cult. It’s hardly proper for a queen to have dealings with her husband’s political enemies."

Islena’s eyes widened. "Does Anheg know?" she asked in a stricken voice.

"I wouldn’t be surprised," Aunt Pol said. "He’s much more clever than he looks, you know. You’re walking very close to the edge of treason. You ought to have a few babies. They’d give you something useful to do with your time and keep you out of trouble. That’s only a suggestion, of course, but you might think it over. I’ve enjoyed our visit, dear. Thank you for your hospitality." And with that she turned and walked away.

Silk whistled softly. That explains a few things," he said.

"Explains what?" Garion asked.

"The High Priest of Belar’s been dabbling in Cherek politics lately. He’s obviously gone a bit further than I’d thought in penetrating the palace."

"The queen?" Garion asked, startled.

"Islena’s obsessed with the idea of magic," Silk said. "The Bear-cultists dabble in certain kinds of rituals that might look sort of mystical to someone as gullible as she is." He looked quickly toward where King Rhodar was speaking with the other kings and Mister Wolf. Then he drew a deep breath. "Let’s go talk to Porenn," he said and led the way across the wharf to where the tiny blond Queen of Drasnia stood looking out at the icy sea.

"Highness," Silk said deferentially.

"Dear Kheldar," she said, smiling at him.

"Could you give some information to my uncle for me?" he asked.

"Of course."

"It seems that Queen Islena’s been a bit indiscreet," Silk said. "She’s been involved with the Bear-cult here in Cherek."

"Oh dear," Porenn said. "Does Anheg know?"

"It’s hard to say," Silk told her. "I doubt if he’d admit it if he did. Garion and I happened to hear Polgara tell her to stop it."

"I hope that puts an end to it," Porenn said. "If it went too far, Anheg would have to take steps. That could be tragic."

"Polgara was quite firm," Silk said. "I think Islena will do as she was told, but advise my uncle. He likes to be kept aware of this kind of thing."

"I’ll tell him about it," she said.

"You might also suggest that he keep his eyes on the local chapters of the cult in Boktor and Kotu," Silk suggested. "This kind of thing isn’t usually isolated. It’s been about 50 years since the last time the cult had to be suppressed."

Queen Porenn nodded gravely. "I’ll see to it that he knows," she said. "I’ve got some of my own people planted in the Bear-cult. As soon as we get back to Boktor, I’ll talk with them and see what’s afoot."

"Your people? Have you gone that far already?" Silk asked in a bantering tone. "You’re maturing rapidly, my Queen. It won’t be long until you’re as corrupt as the rest of us."

"Boktor is full of intrigue, Kheldar," the queen said primly. "It isn’t just the Bear-cult, you know. Merchants from all over the world gather in our city, and at least half of them are spies. I have to protect myself—and my husband."

"Does Rhodar know what you’re up to?" Silk asked slyly.

"Of course he does," she said. "He gave me my first dozen spies himself—as a wedding present.

"How typically Drasnian," Silk said.

"It’s only practical, after all," she said. "My husband’s concerned with matters involving other kingdoms. I try to keep an eye on things at home to leave his mind free for that kind of thing. My operations are a bit more modest than his, but I manage to stay aware of things." She looked at him slyly from beneath her eyelashes. "If you ever decide to come home to Boktor and settle down I might just be able to find work for you."

Silk laughed. "The whole world seems to be full of opportunities lately," he said.

The queen looked at him seriously. "When are you coming home, Kheldar?" she asked. "When will you stop being this vagabond, Silk, and come back where you belong? My husband misses you very much, and you could serve Drasnia more by becoming his chief advisor than all this flitting about the world."

Silk looked away, squinting into the bright wintry sun. "Not just yet, your Highness," he said. "Belgarath needs me too, and this is a very important thing we’re doing just now. Besides, I’m not ready to settle down yet. The game is still entertaining. Perhaps someday when we’re all much older it won’t be anymore—who knows?"

She sighed. "I miss you too Kheldar," she said gently.

"Poor, lonely little queen," Silk said, half-mockingly.

"You’re impossible," she said, stamping her tiny foot.

"One does one’s best." He grinned.

Hettar had embraced his father and mother and leaped across to the deck of the small ship King Anheg had provided him. "Belgarath," he called as the sailors slipped the stout ropes that bound the ship to the quay, "I’ll meet you in two weeks at the ruins of Vo Wacune."

"We’ll be there," Mister Wolf replied.

The sailors pushed the ship away from the quay and began to row out into the bay. Hettar stood on the deck, his long scalp lock flowing in the wind. He waved once, then turned to face the sea.

A long plank was run down over the side of Captain Greldik’s ship to the snow covered stones.

"Shall we go on board, Garion?" Silk said. They climbed the precarious plank and stepped out onto the deck.

"Give our daughters my love," Barak said to his wife.

"I will, my Lord," Merel said in the same stiffly formal tone she always used with him. "Have you any other instructions?"

"I won’t be back for some time," Barak said. "Plant the south fields to oats this year, and let the west fields lie fallow. Do whatever you think best with the north fields. And don’t move the cattle up to the high pastures until all the frost is out of the ground."