Chapter Twelve
A brassy chorus of horns saluted them from the battlements of Vo Mimbre as they rode out of the city accompanied by twoscore armored knights and by King Korodullin himself. Garion glanced back once and thought he saw the Lady Nerina standing upon the wall above the arched gate, though he could not be sure. The lady did not wave, and Mandorallen did not look back. Garion, however, very nearly held his breath until Vo Mimbre was out of sight.
It was midafternoon by the time they reached the ford which crossed the River Arend into Tolnedra, and the bright sun sparkled on the river. The sky was very blue overhead, and the colored pennons on the lances of the escorting knights snapped in the breeze. Garion felt a desperate urgency, an almost unbearable necessity to cross the river and to leave Arendia and the terrible things that had happened there behind.
"Hail and farewell, Holy Belgarath," Korodullin said at the water's edge. "I will, as thou hast advised me, begin my preparations. Arendia will be ready. I pledge my life to it."
"And I'll keep you advised of our progress from time to time," Mister Wolf said.
"I will also examine the activities of the Murgos within my kingdom," Korodullin said. "If what thou hast told me should prove true, as I doubt not that it shall, then I will expell them from Arendia. I will seek them out, one and all, and harry them out of the land. I will make their lives a burden and an affliction to them for sowing discord and contention among my subjects."
Wolf grinned at him. "That's an idea that appeals to me. Murgos are an arrogant people, and a little affliction now and then teaches them humility." He reached out and took the king's hand. "Good-bye, Korodullin. I hope the world's happier next time we meet."
"I will pray that it may be so," the young king said.
Then Mister Wolf led the way down into the rippling water of the shallow ford. Beyond the river Imperial Tolnedra waited, and from the banks behind them the Mimbrate knights saluted with a great fanfare on their horns.
As they emerged on the far side of the river, Garion looked around, trying to see some difference in terrain or foliage which might distinguish Arendia from Tolnedra, but there seemed to be none. The land, indifferent to human boundaries, flowed on unchanged.
About a half mile from the river they entered the forest of Vordue, an extensive tract of well-kept woodland which extended from the sea to the foothills of the mountains to the east. Once they were under the trees, they stopped and changed back into their traveling clothes.
"I think we might as well keep the guise of merchants," Mister Wolf said, settling with obvious comfort back into his patched rust-colored tunic and mismatched shoes. "It won't fool the Grolims, of course, but it will satisfy the Tolnedrans we meet along the way. We can deal with the Grolims in other ways."
"Are there any signs of the Orb about?" Barak rumbled as he stowed his bearskin cloak and helmet in one of the packs.
"A hint or two," Wolf said, looking around. "I'd guess that Zedar went through here a few weeks ago."
"We don't seem to be gaining on him much," Silk said, pulling on his leather vest.
"We're holding our own at least. Shall we go?"
They remounted and continued along the Tolnedran highway, which ran straight through the forest in the afternoon sun. After a league or so, they came to a wide place in the road where a single whitewashed stone building, low and red-roofed, stood solidly at the roadside. Several soldiers lounged indolently about, but their armor and equipment seemed less well-cared-for than that of the legionnaires Garion had seen before.
"Customs station," Silk said. "Tolnedrans like to put them far enough from the border so that they don't interfere with legitimate smuggling."
"Those are very slovenly legionnaires," Durnik said disapprovingly.
"They aren't legionnaires," Silk explained. "They're soldiers of the customs service-local troops. There's a great difference."
"I can see that," Durnik said.
A soldier wearing a rusty breastplate and carrying a short spear stepped into the road and held up his hand. "Customs inspection," he announced in a bored tone. "His excellency will be with you in a moment or two. You can take your horses over there." He pointed to a kind of yard at the side of the building.
"Is trouble likely?" Mandorallen asked. The knight had removed his armor and now wore the mail suit and surcoat in which he customarily traveled.
"No," Silk said. "The customs agent will ask a few questions, and then we'll bribe him and be on our way."
"Bribe?" Durnik asked.
Silk shrugged. "Of course. That's the way things are in Tolnedra. Better let me do the talking. I've been through all this before."
The customs agent, a stout, balding man in a belted gown of a rusty brown color, came out of the stone building, brushing crumbs from the front of his clothes. "Good afternoon," he said in a businesslike manner.
"Good day, your Excellency," Silk replied with a brief bow.
"And what have we here?" the agent asked, looking appraisingly at the packs.
"I'm Radek of Boktor," Silk replied, "a Drasnian merchant. I'm taking Sendarian wool to Tol Honeth." He opened the top of one of the packs and pulled out a corner of woven gray cloth.
"Your prospects are good, worthy merchant," the customs agent said, fingering the cloth. "It's been a chilly winter this year, and wool's bringing a good price."
There was a brief clicking sound as several coins changed hands. The customs agent smiled then, and his manner grew more relaxed. "I don't think we'll need to open all the packs," he said. "You're obviously an honorable man, worthy Radek, and I wouldn't want to delay you."
Silk bowed again. "Is there anything I should know about the road ahead, your Excellency?" he asked, tying up the pack again. "I've learned to rely on the advice of the customs service."
"The road's good," the agent said with a shrug. "The legions see to that."
"Of course. Any unusual conditions anywhere?"
"It might be wise if you kept somewhat to yourselves on your way south," the stout man advised. "There's a certain amount of political turmoil in Tolnedra just now. I'm sure, though, that if you show that you're tending strictly to business, you won't be bothered."
"Turmoil?" Silk asked, sounding a bit concerned. "I hadn't heard about that."
"It's the succession. Things are a bit stirred up at the moment."
"Is Ran Borune ill?" Silk asked with surprise.
"No," the stout man said, "only old. It's a disease no one recovers from. Since he doesn't have a son to succeed him, the Borune Dynasty hangs on his feeblest breath. The great families are already maneuvering for position. It's all terribly expensive of course, and we Tolnedrans get agitated when there's money involved."
Silk laughed briefly. "Don't we all? Perhaps it might be to my advantage to make a few contacts in the right quarters. Which family would you guess is in the best position at the moment?"
"I think we have the edge over the rest of them," the agent said rather smugly.
"We-"
"The Vorduvians. I'm distantly related on my mother's side to the family. The Grand Duke Kador of Tol Vordue's the only logical choice for the throne."
"I don't believe I know him," Silk said.
"An excellent man," the agent said expansively. "A man of force and vigor and foresight. If the selection were based on simple merit, Grand Duke Kador would be given the throne by general consent. Unfortunately, though, the selection's in the hands of the Council of Advisers."
"Ah!"
"Indeed," the agent agreed bitterly. "You wouldn't believe the size of the bribes some of those men are asking for their votes, worthy Radek."
"It's an opportunity that comes only once in a lifetime, I suppose," Silk said.
"I don't begrudge any man the right to a decent, reasonable bribe," the stout agent complained, "but some of the men on the council have gone mad with greed. No matter what position I get in the new government, it's going to take me years to recoup what I've already been obliged to contribute. It's the same all over Tolnedra. Decent men are being driven to the wall by taxes and all these emergency subscriptions. You don't dare let a list go by that doesn't have your name on it, and there's a new list out every day. The expense is making everyone desperate. They're killing each other in the streets of Tol Honeth."
"That bad?" Silk asked.