Pawn of Prophecy

eyes widened slightly, then he too gestured.
    After that, Garion had no idea of what was going on. The hands of Silk and the merchant wove intricate designs in the air, sometimes flickering so rapidly that the eye could scarce follow them. Silk's long, slender fingers seemed to dance, and the merchant's eyes were fixed upon them, his forehead breaking into a sweat at the intensity of his concentration.
    "Done, then?" Silk said finally, breaking the long silence in the room.
    "Done," the merchant agreed somewhat ruefully.
    "It's always a pleasure doing business with an honest man," Silk said.
    "I've learned much today," the merchant said. "I hope you don't intend to remain in this business for long, friend. If you do, I might just as well give you the keys to my warehouse and strongroom right now and save myself the anguish I'll experience every time you appear."
    Silk laughed. "You've been a worthy opponent, friend merchant," he said.
    "I thought so at first," the merchant said, shaking his head, "but I'm no match for you. Deliver your turnips to my warehouse on Bedik wharf tomorrow morning." He scratched a few lines on a piece of parchment with a quill. "My overseer will pay you."
    Silk bowed and took the parchment. "Come along, boy," he said to Garion, and led the way from the room.
    "What happened?" Garion asked when they were outside in the blustery street.
    "We got the price I wanted," Silk said, somewhat smugly.
    "But you didn't say anything," Garion objected.
    "We spoke at great length, Garion," Silk said. "Weren't you watching?"
    "All I saw was the two of you wiggling your fingers at each other."
    "That's how we spoke," Silk explained. "It's a separate language my countrymen devised thousands of years ago. It's called the secret language, and it's much faster than the spoken one. It also permits us to speak in the presence of strangers without being overheard. An adept can conduct business while discussing the weather, if he chooses."
    "Will you teach it to me?" Garion asked, fascinated.
    "It takes a long time to learn," Silk told him.
    "Isn't the trip to Muros likely to take a long time?" Garion suggested.
    Silk shrugged. "As you wish," he said. "It won't be easy, but it will help pass the time, I suppose."
    "Are we going back to the inn now?" Garion asked.
    "Not right away," Silk said. "We'll need a cargo to explain our entry into Muros."
    "I thought we were going to leave with the wagons empty."
    "We are."
    "But you just said-"
    "We'll see a merchant I know," Silk explained. "He buys farm goods all over Sendaria and has them held on the farms until the markets are right in Arendia and Tolnedra. Then he arranges to have them freighted either to Muros or Camaar."
    "It sounds very complicated," Garion said doubtfully.
    "It's not really," Silk assured him. "Come along, my boy, you'll see." The merchant was a Tolnedran who wore a flowing blue robe and a disdainful expression on his face. He was talking with a grim-faced Murgo as Silk and Garion entered his counting room. The Murgo, like all of his race Garion had ever seen, had deep scars on his face, and his black eyes were penetrating.
    Silk touched Garion's shoulder with a cautionary hand when they entered and saw the Murgo, then he stepped forward. "Forgive me, noble merchant," he said ingratiatingly. "I didn't know you were occupied. My porter and I will wait outside until you have time for us."
    "My friend and I will be busy for most of the day," the Tolnedran said. "Is it something important?"
    "I was just wondering if you might have a cargo for me," Silk replied.
    "No," the Tolnedran said shortly. "Nothing." He started to turn back to the Murgo, then stopped and looked sharply at Silk. "Aren't you Ambar of Kotu?" he asked. "I thought you dealt in spices."
    Garion recognized the name Silk had given the watchmen at the gates of the city. It was evident that the little man had used the name before.
    "Alas," Silk sighed. "My last venture lies at the bottom of the sea just off the hook of Arendia - two full shiploads bound for Tol Honeth. A sudden storm and I am a pauper."
    "A tragic tale, worthy Ambar," the Tolnedran master merchant said, somewhat smugly.
    "I'm now reduced to freighting produce," Silk said morosely. "I have three rickety wagons, and that's all that's left of the empire of Ambar of Kotu."
    "Reverses come to us all," the Tolnedran said philosophically.
    "So this is the famous Ambar of Kotu," the Murgo said, his harshly accented voice quite