King of The Murgos

space about him, a circle into which none of his fellow townsmen would intrude.
    The fortress of Jaharb was solidly built of huge basalt blocks, and the guards at the heavy front door were formidably armed. Tajak spoke briefly to them, and the door swung open.
    The room to which Tajak took them was large and was illuminated by costly oil lamps, swinging on chains from the ceiling. The only furnishings were heaps of yellow cushions scattered on the floor and a row of stout, iron-bound chests standing along the rear wail. Seated in the midst of one of the heaps of cushions was an ancient man with white hair and a dark face that was incredibly wrinkled. He wore a yellow robe and he was eating grapes as they entered, carefully selecting them one by one and then languidly raising them to his lips.
    "The Nyissan slavers, Revered Elder," Tajak announced in tones of profoundest respect.
    Jaharb set aside his bowl of grapes and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at them intently with his smoky, penetrating eyes. There was something infinitely chilling about that steady gaze. "How are you called?" he asked Sadi finally. His voice was as cold as his eyes, very quiet and with a kind of dusty dryness to it.
    "I am Ussa, Revered One," Sadi replied with a sinuous bow.
    "So? And what is your business in the lands of the Murgos?" The ancient man spoke slowly, drawing out his words almost as if he were singing them.
    "The slave trade, Great Elder," Sadi answered quickly.
    "Buying or selling?"
    "A bit of each. The present turmoil offers certain opportunities."
    "I'm sure it does. You are here for gain, then?"
    "A reasonable profit is all, Revered Jaharb."
    The Elder's expression did not change, but his eyes bored into the face of the suddenly sweating eunuch. "You seem uncomfortable, Ussa," the dusty voice crooned softly. "Why is that?"
    "The heat, Revered Jaharb," Sadi said nervously. "Your desert is very hot."
    "Perhaps." The smoky eyes continued their unrelenting gaze. "Is it your purpose to enter the lands controlled by the Malloreans?"
    "Why, yes," Sadi replied, "as a matter of fact it is. I am told that many slaves took advantage of the chaos that accompanied the Mallorean invasions to hide themselves in the Forest of Gorut. They are free for the taking, and the fields and vineyards of Hagga and Cthan lie untended for lack of slaves to work them. There is profit in such a situation."
    "You will have little time for pursuing runaway slaves, Ussa. You must be in Rak Hagga before two months have passed."
    "But—"
    Jaharb held up one hand. "You will proceed from this place to Rak Urga, where you are expected. A new servant will join you there. His name is Kabach, and you will find him in the Temple of Torak under the protection of Agachak, the Grolim Hierarch of that place. Agachak and King Urgit will place you and your servants on board a ship which will lake you around the southern end of the Urga peninsula to Rak Cthaka. From there you will go directly overland to Rak Hagga. Do you understand all that I have said?"
    "Most certainly, Revered Jaharb—and what is it that you want me to do in Rak Hagga?"
    "When you reach Rak Hagga, Kabach will leave you, and your task will be complete. Your entire service to me consists of concealing him within your party as you journey to Rak Hagga—a small thing, but your reward will be great."
    "The ship will certainly save me months of difficult travel on horseback, Revered Elder, but will I not have difficulty explaining my presence to the Malloreans if I have no slaves to sell in the mart at Rak Hagga?"
    "You will buy slaves in Cthaka or Gorut. The Malloreans will have no reason to question you."
    "Forgive me, Revered Elder," Sadi said with a slightly embarrassed cough, "but my purse is slender. That's why my plan was to capture runaway slaves. They cost no more than the effort of running them down."
    Jaharb did not reply, and his probing eyes remained fiat and emotionless. He turned his gaze to Tajak. "Open that chest at the end," he said.
    Tajak moved quickly to obey. When he lifted the lid of the chest, Garion heard Ce'Nedra gasp involuntarily. The chest was filled to its very brim with bright red gold coins.
    "Take what you need, Ussa," Jaharb said indifferently. Then a faintly amused look flickered in his smoldering eyes. "But no more than you can hold in both your hands."
    Sadi gaped at the gold-filled chest, his eyes filled with greed and his face and shaven