Then I went on to Vo Ebor, where Mandorallen was in training under the tutelage of the Baron. The Baron of Vo Ebor had recently married a young noblewoman, Nerina by name. The Baron’s duties were such that he had very little time for his new wife, but there was a handsome and honorable young knight handy who sort of filled in for him - nothing improper, you understand, but it did create an interesting situation.

I got straight to the point when I arrived. ‘Just how good is your pupil, my Lord Baron?’ I asked the older man.

‘He doth far exceed our expectations, Ancient One,’ the Baron replied. ‘I doubt that any knight in all Arendia is his match.’

‘Good.’ I looked at Mandorallen. ‘I want you to go to Vo Mimbre,’ I said. ‘There are some people there who need chastisement. They’ve been taking money from the Murgos to lead Prince Korodullin astray. Make them stop. The Drasnian ambassador to the old king’s court will know who they are. Issue a few challenges and break a few bones. Try not to kill too many of them in the process, though. There are things you have to do later on, and I don’t want you embroiled in any blood feuds when the time comes for you to do them.’

‘I shall strive to mine utmost to do as thou hast commanded me, Holy Belgarath,’ the young man replied. ‘My lance, my sword, and my good right arm stand ever at thy service, and, forasmuch as I am - as all the world doth know - the mightiest knight on life, I doubt not that the overthrow of these miscreant knights shall be but a light task, which I gladly undertake, and my skill and my prowess are such that, barring accident, I may confidently assure thee that their overthrow shall not do them permanent injury.’

Lord, Mandorallen can be windy once he dives headlong into a sentence!

As I recall, though, the face of the Baroness Nerina positively glowed at his modest announcement of his invincibility. Arendish ladies are like that.

I never did get the full details of the scheme Chamdar had set in motion at Vo Mimbre. I suppose it might have been nothing more than a delaying tactic to keep me from snapping at his tail-feathers. Chamdar’d seen my face at Annath, and I’m sure that he’d have done almost anything to avoid seeing it at close range again.

A report from the Drasnian ambassador at Vo Mimbre caught up with me a couple of months later, and I gather that Mandorallen had more than fulfilled his promise. Windy or not, Mandorallen - once he’d shut his mouth and got started - was something in the order of a natural disaster. A fair number of the knights he met in the lists that day actually had to be cut out of their armor before their injuries could be tended.

By the time Mandorallen had finished talking and got down to business, however, I was already at the Drasnian embassy in Tol Honeth.

‘How good is he?’ I asked Javelin, pointing at Silk. It probably wasn’t very polite to ask the question right there in front of the rat-faced little spy, but recent events had noticeably eroded my good manners.

‘He shows a certain amount of promise, Ancient One,’ Javelin replied. ‘He has a slight tendency to get side-tracked, though. Honesty’s not one of his strong points. He’s got the soul of a thief, and he can’t seem to be able to pass up the opportunity to steal things.’

‘Javelin!’ Silk protested. Prince Kheldar was wearing the typical Drasnian black doublet and hose. He was a wiry little fellow with a sharp face and a long, pointed nose. He was only about twenty at the time, but his eyes were already cynical and intelligent far beyond his years.

‘All right then, gentlemen,’ I said, ‘let’s get down to business. There’s a Grolim named Chamdar who usually goes by the name of “Asharak the Murgo”. He was in Sendaria recently, and he did some things there that seriously irritated me. As closely as I can determine, he recently passed through Arendia, and he was coming this way. I want him. Find him for me.’

‘He gets right to the point, doesn’t he?’ Silk said to his friend. Then he gave me that impudent little grin that’s always irritated me for some reason. ‘Just out of curiosity, Ancient One, why have I been selected for the great honor of assisting you in this quest of yours? I’m a relative novice, after all.’

‘Because Chamdar knows me, and he can probably also recognize most of Javelin’s more experienced agents on sight. You’re new enough in this business that your face isn’t widely known. That’s why I’ve looked you up specifically. I’m hoping that your anonymity’s going to make it possible for you to search him out for me.’

‘Do you want me to kill him?’ Silk’s eyes grew bright.

‘No. I just want you to find him. I’ll take it from there.’

‘Spoilsport.’

‘Is he always like this?’ I asked Javelin.

‘Usually, yes. Sometimes it’s worse.’

‘What would the location of this Asharak be worth to you, Ancient One?’ Silk asked in a sly tone of voice.

‘Silk!’ Javelin snapped.

‘I was only joking,’ the little fellow grinned. ‘I’ve known Holy Belgarath since I was a boy. He knows that I like to tweak his beard now and then.’ He looked at me. ‘In point of fact, Asharak the Murgo’s in Tol Rane right now. I can give you the name of the inn where he’s staying, if you’d like. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?’

‘Are you sure he’s in Tol Rane?’ I demanded.

‘As sure as we can be about anything in our peculiar business. Tolnedran intelligence isn’t really very good, but they do have a lot of people out in the streets, and they’ve always kept an eye on this Asharak fellow.’

‘How did you find out about it?’ Javelin asked him.

‘I have some contacts inside Tolnedran intelligence,’ Silk replied with a lofty expression as he buffed his fingernails on the front of his doublet. ‘Anyway, Ran Borune’s involved in trade negotiations with the Murgos right now, and the Murgo trade delegation reports directly to Asharak. They’ve had messengers burning up the road between here and Tol Rane for the past two weeks.’

‘How did you find out about that?’ Javelin demanded.

Silk smirked at him. ‘I have my sources,’ he replied.

‘More to the point, why didn’t you report it to me?’

‘I’d have gotten around to it - eventually. I wanted a few more details before I laid it on your desk. You always ask so many questions, Javelin. I’ve got it under control, and you’ve got other things on your mind.’

‘You’re an absolute gold mine of information, Prince Kheldar,’ Javelin said sarcastically. ‘At least you are once I manage to pry your jaws open.’ Then he moved on rather quickly. ‘What’s Ran Borune trying to sell to the Murgos?’

Silk shrugged. ‘A bit of this, a bit of that,’ he replied evasively.

‘Describe the “this” and the “that”, Silk.’

Silk winced. ‘All right, if you’re going to be that way about it. Ran Borune’s got a nephew who’s in business in the commercial enclave at Riva. The nephew’s come very close to cornering the market in the spring shearing on the Isle of the Winds, and he’ll be able to make a very tidy profit if he can find a way to sell all that wool to the Murgos. I’ve got a friend on the Isle who’s trying to outbid the nephew, though. If Ran Borune does manage to strike a deal with the Murgos, he may very well make my friend rich instead of his own nephew.’

‘And you’re getting a commission from your friend, aren’t you?’ Javelin demanded.

‘Naturally. I am supplying him with information on the trade negotiations, after all. Fair’s fair, Javelin.’

‘If your uncle finds out that you’re using the resources of the intelligence service for your personal enrichment, he’ll have apoplexy. You do know that, don’t you?’

‘Then we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find out, won’t we?’ Silk replied blandly. ‘My uncle’s the King of Drasnia, Javelin. He’s got enough on his mind already without concerning himself with something like this.’ The little swindler looked at me. ‘Did you want me to go with you to Tol Rane?’ he asked.

‘I think so, yes. You have contacts there, I assume?’

‘Old friend, I have contacts everywhere. Did you want to know what Salmissra had for breakfast this morning?’

‘Not particularly. Why don’t you go throw a few things together. We’ll be leaving for Tol Rane tomorrow morning.’

‘I don’t have to throw things together, Belgarath. My bags are always packed.’

The next morning, Silk came down into the courtyard of the embassy, wearing a maroon velvet doublet and a bag-like black velvet hat cocked over one ear.

‘Isn’t that a little fancy for a long trip on horseback?’ I asked him.

‘One must look the part, Ancient One,’ he replied. ‘I’m known in Tol Rane as Radek of Boktor. I do business there on occasion, and I’ve found it useful not to use my real name. That “Prince” my family tacked onto me has a tendency to make various merchants think that I’m an easy mark. Believe me, nobody tries to swindle Radek of Boktor. I’ve cut some very sharp deals in this particular guise.’