The Seeress of Kell

less sure of himself now.
    "I’ve been in the presence of kings before, my Lord, and I am conversant with the customary usages. I do assure thee that we mean no disrespect to his Majesty by our visored approach to the throne. We are compelled to it, however, by a stern duty that hath been lain upon us."
    The knight looked even more unsure of himself. "Thou art well spoken, Sir Knight," he admitted grudgingly.
    "An it please you then, Sir Knight," Garion continued, "wilt thou accompany Baron Astellig, my companion, and myself to the throne? A man of thine obvious prowess can easily prevent mischief." A little flattery never hurt anything in difficult situations.
    "It shall be as thou sayest, Sir Knight," the knight decided.
    The four of them approached the throne and bowed somewhat stiffly. "My Lord King," Astellig said.
    "Baron," Oldorin replied with an absent-seeming nod.
    "I have the honor to present two stranger knights who have traveled here from afar in pursuit of a noble quest.”
    The king looked interested. The word "quest" rang bells in Mimbrate heads.
    "As thou may have noticed, your Majesty," Astellig continued, "my friends are visored. This is not to be taken as a gesture of disrespect, but is a necessary concealment required by the nature of their quest. A foul evil is abroad in the world, and they journey with diverse companions to confront it. They each have some eminence in the world beyond the shores of our isle, and should they reveal their faces, they would instantly be recognized, and the evil one they seek would be forewarned of their coming and would seek to impede them. Thus it is that their visors must remain closed."
    "A reasonable precaution," the king agreed. "Greetings, Sir Knights, and well met."
    "Thou art kind, your Majesty," Garion said, "and we are grateful to thee for thy gracious understanding of our circumstances. Our quest is fraught with perilous enchantments, and I do fear me that should we reveal our identities, we might well fail, and the whole world would suffer as a result.”
    “I do fully understand, Sir Knight, and I will not press thee for further details of thy quest. The walls of any palace have ears, and some there are even here who might be in league with the villain thou seekest."
    "Wisely spoken, my King," a rasping voice said from the back of the throne room. "As I myself know full well, the powers of enchanters are myriad, and even the prowess of these two brave knights may not be sufficient to match them."
    Garion turned. The man who had spoken had absolutely white eyes.
    "The wizard of whom I told thee,” Baron Astellig whispered to Garion. "Be wary of him, Sir Knight, for he hath the king in thrall."
    "Ah, good Erezel," the king said, his face lighting up, "an it please thee, approach the throne. Mayhap in thy wisdom thou mayest advise these two questors concerning the possibility of avoiding the perils posed by the enchantments certain to be strewn in their path."
    "It shall be my pleasure, Lord King," Naradas replied.
    "You know who he is, don't you?" Zakath murmured to Garion.
    "Yes."
    Naradas came down to the throne. "If I may be so bold as to suggest it, Sir Knights," he said in an unctuous lone, "a great tourney is planned not long hence. Should you not participate, it might arouse suspicion in the minions the one you seek hath doubtless placed here. My first advice to you, therefore, is that you enter our tourney and thus avoid that mischance."
    "A most excellent suggestion, Erezel," the empty-headed king approved. "Sir Knights, this is Erezel, a great wizard and our closest advisor to our throne. Consider well his words, for they have great merit. We will, moreover, be greatly honored to have two such mighty men join with us in our forthcoming entertainment."
    Garion ground his teeth together. With that one innocent-seeming suggestion, Naradas had effectively achieved the delay he had been seeking for weeks now. There was no way out, however. "We would be honored to join with thee and thy valiant knights in thy sport, your Majesty," he said. "Prithee, when are the games to begin?"
    "Ten days hence, Sir Knight."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    The quarters to which they were escorted were again hauntingly familiar. The displaced Arends who had been washed ashore here so many centuries ago had, it appeared, lovingly recreated the royal palace at Vo Mimbre down to the last detail even including its inconveniences. Durnik, ever practical, noticed this immediately.