Queen of Sorcery

"I didn't know that Radek was interested in the southern trade. I thought he dealt mostly in Sendaria and Arendia."
    Greldik shrugged indifferently. "I didn't ask him. He pays me to carry his goods in my ship, not to ask questions about his business."
    Droblek looked at them all, his sweating face expressionless. Then his fingers moved slightly.-Is everything here what it seems to be? The Drasnian secret language made his fat fingers suddenly nimble.
    Can we speak openly here? Aunt Pol's fingers asked him. Her gestures were stately, somehow archaic. There was a kind of formality to her movements that Garion had not seen in the signs made by others.
    As openly as anyplace in this pest-hole - Droblek replied,-You have a strange accent, lady. There's something about it that it seems I should remember- '
    I learned the language a very long time ago-she replied.-You know who Radek of Boktor really is, of course-
    "Naturally," Droblek said aloud. "Everyone knows that. Sometimes he calls himself Ambar of Kotu - when he wants to have dealings that are not, strictly speaking, legitimate."
    "Shall we stop fencing with each other, Droblek?" Aunt Pol asked quietly. "I'm quite certain you've received instructions from King Rhodar by now. All this dancing about is tiresome."
    Droblek's face darkened. "I'm sorry," he said stiffly. "I'll need a bit more in the way of verification."
    "Don't be an idiot, Droblek," Barak rumbled at the fat man. "Use your eyes. You're an Alorn; you know who the lady is."
    Droblek looked suddenly at Aunt Pol, his eyes going very wide. "It's not possible," he gasped.
    "Would you like to have her prove it to you?" Hettar suggested. The house shook with a sudden crash of thunder.
    "No, no," Droblek refused hastily, still staring at Aunt Pol. "It just never occurred to me - I mean, I just never-" He floundered with it.
    "Have you heard from Prince Kheldar or my father?" Aunt Pol asked crisply.
    "Your father? You mean-? Is he involved in this too?"
    "Really, Droblek," she said tartly, "don't you believe the communications King Rhodar sends you?"
    Droblek shook his head like a man trying to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, Lady Polgara," he said. "You surprised me, that's all. It takes a moment to get used to. We didn't think you'd be coming this far south."
    "It's obvious then that you haven't received any word from Kheldar or the old man."
    "No, my Lady," Droblek said. "Nothing. Are they supposed to be here?"
    "So they said. They were either going to meet us here or send word."
    "It's very hard to get messages any place in Nyissa," Droblek explained. "The people here aren't very reliable. The prince and your father could be upcountry, and their messenger could very well have gone astray. I sent a messenger to a place not ten leagues from the city once, and it took six months to arrive. The Nyissan who was carrying it found a certain berry patch along the way. We found him sitting in the middle of the patch, smiling." Droblek made a sour face. "There was moss growing on him," he added.
    "Dead?" Durnik asked.
    Droblek shrugged. "No, just very happy. He enjoyed the berries very much. I dismissed him at once, but he didn't seem to mind. For all I know, he's still sitting there."
    "How extensive is your network here in Sthiss Tor?" Aunt Pol asked.
    Droblek spread his pudgy hands modestly. "I manage to pick up a bit of information here and there. I've got a few people in the palace and a minor official at the Tolnedran embassy. The Tolnedrans are very thorough." He grinned impishly. "It's cheaper to let them do all the work and then buy the information after they've gathered it."
    "If you can believe what they tell you," Hettar suggested.
    "I never take what they say at face value," Droblek said. "The Tolnedran ambassador knows that I've bought his man. He tries to trip me up with false leads now and then."
    "Does the ambassador know that you know?" Hettar asked.
    "Of course he does." The fat man laughed. "But he doesn't think that I'm aware of the fact that he knows that I know." He laughed again. "It's all terribly complicated, isn't it?"
    "Most Drasnian games usually are," Barak observed.
    "Does the name Zedar mean anything to you?" Aunt Pol asked.
    "I've heard it, naturally," Droblek said.
    "Has he been in touch with Salmissra?"
    Droblek frowned. "I couldn't say for sure. I haven't heard that he has, but that doesn't mean that he hasn't. Nyissa's a murky sort of place, and Salmissra's palace is the murkiest spot in