Sorceress of Darshiva

rather proudly at his men. "They look good, don't they? I may not have the biggest army in Mallorea, but I've got the sharpest.
    Why don't we go have some breakfast?"
    "I've eaten soldiers' rations before," Beldin told him. "I think I'll go look for another pigeon/'
    "You're jumping to conclusions, Beldin," the little man assured him. "Bad food is the greatest cause of dissatisfaction in the ranks in any army. Yarblek and I are very careful to hire only the best cooks and to provide them with the finest food available. Dry rations might be good enough for Kal Zakath's army, but not for mine."
    Captain Rakos joined them for breakfast. Rakos was obviously a field soldier and he had certain difficulties with his utensils.
    "Where's the caravan bound?" Silk asked him.
    "Jarot, your Highness."
    "What are we carrying?"
    "Beans."
    "Beans?" Silk sounded a little startled.
    "It was your order, your Highness," Rakos said. "Word came from your factor in Mal Zeth before the plague broke out that you wanted to corner the market in beans. Your warehouses in Maga Renn are overflowing with them, so lately we've been transferring them to Jarot."
    "Why would I do that?" Silk said, scratching his head in bafflement.
    "Zakath was bringing his army back from Cthol Murgos," Garion reminded him. "He was going to mount a campaign in Karanda. You wanted to buy up all the beans in Mallorea so that you could gouge the Bureau of Military Procurement."
    "Gouge is such an ugly word, Garion," Silk protested with a pained look. He frowned.
    "I thought I'd rescinded that order."
    "Not that I've heard, your Highness," Rakos said. "You've got tons of beans pouring into Maga Renn from all over Delchin and southern Ganesia."
    Silk groaned. "How much longer is it going to take us to reach Jarot?" he asked.
    "I've got to put a stop to this."
    "Several days, your Highness," Rakos replied.
    "And the beans will just keep piling up the whole time."
    "Probably, your Highness."
    Silk groaned again.
    They rode on down through the remainder of Rengel with no further incidents. Silk's professional soldiers apparently had a wide reputation in the region, and the poorly trained troops of the varying factions there gave them a wide berth. Silk rode at the head of the column like a field marshal, looking about with a lordly manner.
    "Are you going to let him get away with that?’' Ce'Nedra asked Velvet after a day or so.
    "Of course not," Velvet replied, "but let him enjoy it for now. Time enough to teach him the realities of the situation later on."
    "You're terrible," Ce'Nedra giggled.
    "Naturally. But didn't you do the same thing to our hero here?" Velvet looked pointedly at Garion.
    "Liselle," Polgara said firmly, "you're giving away secrets again."
    "Sorry, Lady Polgara," Velvet replied contritely.
    The trail of Zandramas was soon joined by the sullen scarlet trail of the Sardion, and both proceeded down across Rengel to the River Kallahar and the border of Celanta. The trails also seemed to be going toward Jarot.
    "Why is she going toward the sea?" Garion worriedly asked Belgarath.
    "Who knows?" the old man replied shortly. "She's read the Ashabine Oracles, and I haven't. It could be that she knows where she's going, and I'm just floundering along in the rear."
    "But what if—"
    "Please don't 'what if' me, Garion," Belgarath said. "I've got enough problems already."
    They crossed the River Kallahar aboard a cluster of ferries that seemed to belong to Silk and arrived in the port city of Jarot on the Celanta side. As they rode through the cobbled streets, crowds came out to cheer. Silk rode at the head of the column graciously waving his acknowledgment of the cheers.
    "Have I missed something?" Durnik asked.
    "His people love him very much," Eriond explained.
    "His people?"
    "Who owns a man, Durnik?" the blond young man asked sadly. "The one who rules him, or the one who pays him?"
    Silk's offices in Jarot were opulent—even ostentatious. Mallorean carpets lay thick upon the floors, the walls were paneled in rare, polished woods, and officials in costly livery were everywhere.
    "One sort of has to keep up appearances," the little man explained apologetically as they entered. "The natives are so impressed by show."
    "Of course," Belgarath said drily.
    "Surely you don't think—"
    "Just let it pass, Silk."
    "But it's all so much fun, Belgarath." Silk grinned.
    Belgarath then did something Garion had never thought he would see him do. He raised his hands