Demon Lord of Karanda

reason Garion was reminded of the vast rabbit warren of King Anheg's palace at Val Alorn. Although Zakath's palace did not consist of one single building, the structures were all linked to each other by column-lined promenades and galleries which passed through park-like grounds studded with statues and marble pavilions.
    Zakath led them through the confusing maze toward the middle of the complex, where a single palace stood in splendid isolation, announcing by its expanse and height that it was the center of all power in boundless Mallorea. "The residence of Kallath the Unifier," the Emperor announced with grand irony, "my revered ancestor."
    "Isn't it just a bit overdone?" Ce'Nedra asked tartly, still obviously unwilling to concede the fact that Mal Zeth far outstripped her girlhood home.
    "Of course it is," the Mallorean replied, "but the ostentation was necessary. Kallath had to demonstrate to the other generals that he outranked them, and in Mal Zeth one's rank is reflected by the size of one's residence. Kallath was an undisguised knave, a usurper and a man of little personal charm, so he had to assert himself in other ways."
    "Don't you just love politics?" Velvet said to Ce'Nedra. "It's the only field where the ego is allowed unrestricted play -as long as the treasury holds out."
    Zakath laughed. "I should offer you a position in the government, Margravine Liselle," he said. "I think we need an imperial deflator -someone to puncture all our puffed-up self-importance."
    "Why, thank you, your Majesty," she said with a dimpled smile. " If it weren't for my commitments to the family business, I might even consider accepting such a post. It sounds like so much fun."
    He sighed with mock regret. "Where were you when I needed a wife?"
    "Probably in my cradle, your Majesty," she replied innocently.
    He winced. "That was unkind," he accused.
    "Yes," she agreed. "True, though," she added clinically.
    He laughed again and looked at Polgara. "I'm going to steal her from you, my lady," he declared.
    "To be your court jester, Kal Zakath?" Liselle asked, her face no longer lightly amused. "To entertain you with clever insults and banter? Ah, no. I don't think so. There's another side to me that I don't think you'd like very much. They call me 'Velvet' and think of me as a soft-winged butterfly, but this particular butterfly has a poisoned sting -as several people have discovered after it was too late."
    "Behave, dear," Polgara murmured to her. "And don't give away trade secrets in a moment of pique." Velvet lowered her eyes. "Yes, Lady Polgara," she replied meekly.
    Zakath looked at her, but did not say anything. He swung down from his saddle, and three grooms dashed to his side to take the reins from his hand. "Come along, then," he said to Garion and the others. "I'd like to show you around." He threw a sly glance at Velvet. "I hope that the Margravine will forgive me if I share every home owner's simple pride in his domicile -no matter how modest."
    She laughed a golden little laugh.
    Garion dismounted and laid an affectionate hand on Chretienne's proud neck. It was with a pang of almost tangible regret that he handed the reins to a waiting groom.
    They entered the palace through broad, gilded doors and found themselves in a vaulted rotunda, quite similar in design to the one in the Emperor's palace in Tol Honeth, though this one lacked the marble busts that made Varana's entryway appear vaguely like a mausoleum. A crowd of officials, military and civilian, awaited their Emperor, each with a sheaf of important-looking documents in his hand.
    Zakath sighed as he looked at them. "I'm afraid we'll have to postpone the grand tour," he said. "I'm certain that you'll all want to bathe and change anyway -and perhaps rest a bit before we start the customary formalities. Brador, would you be good enough to show our guests to their rooms and arrange to have a light lunch prepared for them?"
    "Of course, your Majesty."
    "I think the east wing might be pleasant. It's away from all the scurrying through the halls in this part of the palace."
    "My very thought, your Majesty."
    Zakath smiled at them all. "We'll dine together this evening," he promised. Then he smiled ironically. "An intimate little supper with no more than two or three hundred guests." He looked at the nervous officials clustered nearby and made a wry face. "Until this evening, then."
    Brador led them through the echoing marble corridors teeming with servants and minor