Queen of Sorcery

asked.
    Silk shrugged. "Of course. That's the way things are in Tolnedra. Better let me do the talking. I've been through all this before."
    The customs agent, a stout, balding man in a belted gown of a rusty brown color, came out of the stone building, brushing crumbs from the front of his clothes. "Good afternoon," he said in a businesslike manner.
    "Good day, your Excellency," Silk replied with a brief bow.
    "And what have we here?" the agent asked, looking appraisingly at the packs.
    "I'm Radek of Boktor," Silk replied, "a Drasnian merchant. I'm taking Sendarian wool to Tol Honeth." He opened the top of one of the packs and pulled out a corner of woven gray cloth.
    "Your prospects are good, worthy merchant," the customs agent said, fingering the cloth. "It's been a chilly winter this year, and wool's bringing a good price."
    There was a brief clicking sound as several coins changed hands. The customs agent smiled then, and his manner grew more relaxed. "I don't think we'll need to open all the packs," he said. "You're obviously an honorable man, worthy Radek, and I wouldn't want to delay you."
    Silk bowed again. "Is there anything I should know about the road ahead, your Excellency?" he asked, tying up the pack again. "I've learned to rely on the advice of the customs service."
    "The road's good," the agent said with a shrug. "The legions see to that."
    "Of course. Any unusual conditions anywhere?"
    "It might be wise if you kept somewhat to yourselves on your way south," the stout man advised. "There's a certain amount of political turmoil in Tolnedra just now. I'm sure, though, that if you show that you're tending strictly to business, you won't be bothered."
    "Turmoil?" Silk asked, sounding a bit concerned. "I hadn't heard about that."
    "It's the succession. Things are a bit stirred up at the moment."
    "Is Ran Borune ill?" Silk asked with surprise.
    "No," the stout man said, "only old. It's a disease no one recovers from. Since he doesn't have a son to succeed him, the Borune Dynasty hangs on his feeblest breath. The great families are already maneuvering for position. It's all terribly expensive of course, and we Tolnedrans get agitated when there's money involved."
    Silk laughed briefly. "Don't we all? Perhaps it might be to my advantage to make a few contacts in the right quarters. Which family would you guess is in the best position at the moment?"
    "I think we have the edge over the rest of them," the agent said rather smugly.
    "We-"
    "The Vorduvians. I'm distantly related on my mother's side to the family. The Grand Duke Kador of Tol Vordue's the only logical choice for the throne."
    "I don't believe I know him," Silk said.
    "An excellent man," the agent said expansively. "A man of force and vigor and foresight. If the selection were based on simple merit, Grand Duke Kador would be given the throne by general consent. Unfortunately, though, the selection's in the hands of the Council of Advisers."
    "Ah!"
    "Indeed," the agent agreed bitterly. "You wouldn't believe the size of the bribes some of those men are asking for their votes, worthy Radek."
    "It's an opportunity that comes only once in a lifetime, I suppose," Silk said.
    "I don't begrudge any man the right to a decent, reasonable bribe," the stout agent complained, "but some of the men on the council have gone mad with greed. No matter what position I get in the new government, it's going to take me years to recoup what I've already been obliged to contribute. It's the same all over Tolnedra. Decent men are being driven to the wall by taxes and all these emergency subscriptions. You don't dare let a list go by that doesn't have your name on it, and there's a new list out every day. The expense is making everyone desperate. They're killing each other in the streets of Tol Honeth."
    "That bad?" Silk asked.
    "Worse than you can imagine," the customs man said. "The Horbites don't have the kind of money it takes to conduct a political campaign, so they've started to poison off council members. We spend millions to buy a vote, and the next day our man turns black in the face and falls over dead. Then we have to raise more millions to buy up his successor. They're absolutely destroying me. I don't have the right kind of nerves for politics."
    "Terrible," Silk sympathized.
    "If Ran Borune would only die, " the Tolnedran complained desperately. "We're in control now, but the Honeths are richer than we are. If they unite behind one candidate, they'll be able