Garion stared after her. This was going too far. He considered going immediately to Aunt Pol to protest, but the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that she would be totally unsympathetic. Too many little things began to click together all at once. Aunt Pol was not merely a party to this absurd notion; she had actively done everything in her power to make absolutely sure that there was no escape for him. He needed someone to talk to - someone devious enough and unscrupulous enough to think a way out of this. He left Ce'Nedra's sitting room and went looking for Silk.

The little man was not in his room, and the servant who was making up the bed kept bowing as he stammered out his apologies at not having the slightest notion of where Silk might be. Garion left quickly.

Since the apartment Barak shared with his wife and children was only a few steps down the corridor, Garion went there, trying not to look back at the gray-cloaked attendant he knew was still following him. "Barak," he said, knocking on the big Cherek's door, "it's me, Garion. May I come in?"

The Lady Merel opened the door immediately and curtsied respectfully.

"Please, don't do that," Garion begged her.

"What's the trouble, Garion?" Barak asked from the green-covered chair where he sat, bouncing his infant son on his knee.

"I'm looking for Silk," Garion replied, entering the large, comfortable room that was littered with clothes and children's toys.

"You're a little wild around the eyes," the big man noted. "Is something wrong?"

"I've just had some very unsettling news," Garion told him, shuddering. "I need to talk to Silk. Maybe he can come up with an answer for me."

"Would you like some breakfast?" Lady Merel suggested.

"I've already eaten, thank you," Garion replied. He looked at her a bit more closely. She had undone the rather severe braids she customarily wore, and her blond hair framed her face softly. She wore her usual green gown, but her carriage seemed not to have the rigidity it had always had. Barak, Garion noted, had also lost a bit of the grim defensiveness that had always been there previously when he was in the presence of his wife.

Barak's two daughters entered the room then, one on each side of Errand. They all sat down in the corner and began playing an elaborate little game that seemed to involve a great deal of giggling.

"I think my daughters have decided to steal him." Barak grinned. "Quite suddenly I'm up to my ears in wife and children, and the funny part about it is that I don't seem to mind it at all."