"Surprises are good for him." Silk shrugged. "An unsurprised man gets complacent."
"The Emperor was most put out with you, your Majesty," Rolla said reproachfully to Garion.
"I'm sure he'll survive it."
"In Mallorea, your Majesty, it's the ones who offend Kal Zakath who need to be concerned about survival."
"Don't make threats, Rolla," Silk warned. "If his Majesty here decides that your report to the Chief of the Bureau of Internal Affairs would be embarrassing, he might decide to take steps to keep you from ever writing it. His Majesty is an Alorn, after all, and you know how short-tempered they can be."
Rolla stepped back apprehensively.
"Always nice talking with you, Rolla," Silk said in a tone of dismissal. Then he and Garion walked on. Garion noticed that the big-nosed man had a slightly worried look on his face as they passed him.
"I love to do that to people," Silk smirked.
"You're easily amused," Garion said. "You do know that when his report gets to Mal Zeth, Zakath's going to flood this whole region with people trying to find us."
"Do you want me to go back and kill him for you?" Silk offered.
"Of course not!"
"I didn't think so. If you can't do something about a situation, there's no point in worrying about it."
When they reached the harbor, Garion tightened his grip on the Orb. The pulling of Iron-grip's sword had sometimes been quite strong, and Garion had no desire to have the stone jump out of his hand. They walked northward along the wharves with the salt tang of the sea in their nostrils. The harbor of Melcena, unlike that of most of the port cities in the world, was surprisingly clear of floating garbage. "How do they keep it so clean?" Garion asked curiously. "The water, I mean?"
"There's a heavy fine for throwing things in the harbor," Silk replied. "Melcenes are compulsively tidy. They also have workmen with nets in small boats patrolling the waterfront to scoop up any floating debris. It helps to maintain full employment." He grinned. "It's a nasty job and it's always assigned to people who aren't interested in finding regular work. A few days in a small boat full of garbage and dead fish increases their ambition enormously.''
"You know," Garion said, "that's really a very good idea. I wonder if—" The Orb suddenly grew very warm in his hand. He pulled his robe open slightly and looked at it. It was glowing a sullen red.
"Zandramas?" Silk asked.
Garion shook his head. "The Sardion," he replied.
Silk nervously tugged at his nose. "That's a sort of dilemma, isn't it? Do we follow the Sardion or Zandramas?"
"Zandramas," Garion said, "She's the one who's got my son."
"It's up to you." Silk shrugged. "That's the last wharf just up ahead. If we don't pick up the trail there, we'll go on and check the north gate."
They passed the last wharf. The Orb gave no indication of interest.
"Could they have landed on one of the other islands?" Garion asked with a worried frown.
"Not unless they changed course once they were at sea," Silk replied. "There are plenty of other places to land a ship along this coast. Let's go have a look at the north gate."
Once again they moved through the streets at that frustratingly leisurely pace.
After they had crossed several streets, Silk stopped. "Oh, no," he groaned.
"What is it?"
"That fat man coming this way is Viscount Esca. He's one of the senior members of the Melcene Consortium. He's bound to want to talk business."
"Tell him we have an appointment."
"It wouldn't do any good. Time doesn't mean that much to Melcenes."
"Why, there you are, Prince Kheldar," the fat man in a gray robe said, waddling up to them. "I've been looking all over the city for you."
"Viscount Esca," Silk said, bowing.
"My colleagues and I have stood in awe of your recent venture into the commodities market," Esca said admiringly.
Silk's eyes grew sly, and his long nose twitched. Then he assumed a pained expression. "A blunder, actually, my dear Viscount," he said mournfully. "There's little profit to be made in something as bulky as farm produce.''
"Have you been keeping abreast of the market?" Esca asked, his face taking on a transparent cast of neutrality, but his eyes filled with undisguised greed.
"No," Silk lied, "not really. I've been upcountry, and I haven't had the chance to talk with my factor as yet. I left instructions for him to take the first offer that comes along, though—even if we have to take a loss. I need my warehouses, and they're all filled to the rafters with beans."
"Well, now," Esca said, rubbing his hands together, "I'll speak with my colleagues. Perhaps we can make you a modest offer.'' He had begun to sweat.
"I couldn't let you do that, Esca. My holdings are virtually worthless. Why don't we let some stranger take the loss? I couldn't really do that to a friend."
"But, my dear Prince Kheldar," Esca protested in a tone verging on anguish, "we wouldn't really expect to make a vast profit. Our purchase would be more in the nature of long-term speculation."
"Well," Silk said dubiously, "as long as you're fully aware of the risks involved—"
"Oh, we are, we are," Esca said eagerly.
Silk sighed. "All right, then," he said. "Why don't you make your offer to Vetter?
I'll trust you not to take advantage of my situation."
"Oh, of course, Kheldar, of course." Esca bowed hastily. "I really must be off now. Pressing business, you understand."
"Oh," Silk said, "quite."
Esca waddled off at an unseemly rate of speed.
"Hooked him!" Silk chortled. "Now I'll let Vetter land him."
"Don't you ever think about anything else?" Garion asked.
"Of course I do, but we're busy right now and we didn't have all morning to listen to him babble. Let's move along, shall we?"
A thought occurred to Garion. "What if Zandramas avoided the city?" he asked.
"Then we'll get our horses and check the coastline. She had to have landed somewhere."
As they approached the north gate of Melcena, the press in the street grew noticeably heavier. Carriages and people on horseback began to become more frequent, and the normally sedate citizens began to move more rapidly. Garion and Silk found it necessary to push their way through the throng.