King of The Murgos

amused expression. "I've noticed that preference in many kings," he observed. "It doesn't put such a strain on royal treasuries. But believe me, your Majesty, loyalty to an ideal can vary in its intensity, but loyalty to money never changes. That's why mercenaries are better fighters."
    "You're a cynic," Urgit accused.
    Silk shook his head. "No, your Majesty. I'm a realist." He stepped over to Sadi and murmured something. The eunuch nodded, and the rat-faced little Drasnian quietly left the room.
    Urgit raised one eyebrow inquiringly.
    "He's going to go start packing, your Majesty," Sadi explained. "If we're going to sail tomorrow, we need to start getting ready."
    Urgit and Sadi talked quietly for about a quarter of an hour, and then the door at the far end of the room opened again. Polgara and the other ladies entered with the Lady Tamazin.
    "Good morning, mother," Urgit greeted her. "You slept well, I trust?"
    "Quite well, thank you." She looked critically at him. "Urgit, where's your crown?"
    "I took it off. It gives me a headache."
    "Put it back on at once."
    "What for?"
    "Urgit, you don't look very much like a king. You're short and thin and you've got a face like a weasel. Murgos are not bright. If you don't wear your crown all the time, it's altogether possible that they'll forget who you are. Now put it back on."
    "Yes, mother." He picked up his crown and clapped it back on his head. "How's that?"
    "It's lopsided, dear," she said in a calm tone so familiar ; that Garion gave Polgara a quick, startled look. "Now you look like a drunken sailor."
    Urgit laughed and straightened his crown.
    Garion looked closely at Ce'Nedra to see if there were any traces left of the storm of weeping that had swept over her the previous day, but he saw no evidence that it might immediately return. She was engaged in a murmured conversation with the Cthan Princess, Prala, and the Murgo girl's face clearly showed that she had already fallen under the queen's spell.
    "And you, Urgit," Lady Tamazin said, "did you sleep well?"
    "I never really sleep, mother. You know that. I decided years ago that sleeping nervously is infinitely preferable to sleeping permanently."
    Garion found himself making a difficult readjustment in his thinking. He had never liked Murgos. He had always distrusted and even feared them. King Urgit's personality, however, was as un-Murgoish as his appearance. He was quick and volatile, and his moods swung from sardonic amusement to gloom so rapidly that Garion was quite uncertain what to expect next. He was obviously not a strong king, and Garion had been a king long enough himself to see where Urgit was making his mistakes. In spite of himself, though, Garion found that he actually liked him and felt a peculiar sympathy for him as he struggled with a job for which he was hopelessly unsuited. That, of course, created a problem. Garion did not want to like this man, and this unwanted sympathy seemed wildly out of place. He rose from his chair and withdrew to the far end of the room, making some pretense of looking out the window so that he might put himself beyond the range of the Murgo King's urbane wit. With a kind of unbearable urgency, he wanted to be on board ship and away from this ugly Murgo city, huddled on its barren coast, and from the weak, fearful man who was not really such a bad fellow, but whom Garion knew he should regard as an enemy.
    "What's the trouble, Garion?" Polgara asked quietly, coming up behind him.
    "Impatience, I guess, Aunt Pol. I want to get moving."
    "We all do, dear," she told him, "but we have to endure this for one more day."
    "Why can't he just leave us alone?"
    "Who's that?"
    "Urgit. I'm not interested in his problems, so why does he have to sit around telling us about them all the time?"
    "Because he's lonely, Garion."
    "All kings are lonely. It comes with the crown. Most of us learn how to endure it, though. We don't sit around and snivel about it."
    "That's unkind, Garion," she told him firmly, "and it's unworthy of you."
    "Why are we all so concerned about a weak king with a clever mouth?"
    "Perhaps it's because he's the first Murgo we've met in eons who shows some human qualities. Because he's the way he is, he raises the possibility that Alorns and Murgos might someday find ways to settle their differences without resorting to bloodshed."
    He continued to stare out the window, although a slow flush began to creep up his neck. "I'm being childish, aren't I?" he