"Oh, I understand, all right, Silk." Yarblek bent and dipped two cups into the ale keg. "And I'm as sorry as I can be that your business is going to have to wait. Here." He gave Silk one cup and Garion the other. Then he turned and dipped out a cup for himself.

Silk looked at him with one raised eyebrow.

Yarblek sprawled on the ground beside the ale keg, comfortably resting his feet on the body of one of the dead Malloreans. "You see, Silk," he explained, "the whole point of all this is that Drosta wants you very badly. He's offering a reward for you that's just too attractive to pass up. Friendship is one thing, but business is business, after all. Now, why don't you and your young friend make yourselves comfortable? This is a nice, shady clearing with soft moss to lie on. We'll all get drunk, and you can tell me how you managed to escape from Taur Urgas. Then you can tell me what happened to that handsome woman you had with you down in Cthol Murgos. Maybe I can make enough money from this to be able to afford to buy her. I'm not the marrying kind, but by Torak's teeth, that's a fine-looking woman. I'd almost be willing to give up my freedom for her."

"I'm sure she'd be flattered," Silk replied. "What then?"

"What when?"

"After we get drunk. What do we do then?"

"We'll probably get sick - that's what usually happens. After we get well, we'll run on down to Yar Nadrak. I'll collect the reward for you, and you'll be able to find out why King Drosta lek Thun wants to get his hands on you so badly." He looked at Silk with an amused expression. "You might as well sit down and have a drink, my friend. You aren't going anywhere just now."

Chapter Five

YAR NADRAK WAS a walled city, lying at the juncture of the east and west forks of the River Cordu. The forests had been cleared for a league or so in every direction from the capital by the simple expedient of setting fire to it, and the approach to the city passed through a wilderness of burned black snags and rank-growing bramble thickets. The city gates were stout and smeared with tar. Surmounting them was a stone replica of the mask of Torak. That beautiful, inhumanly cruel face gazed down at all who entered, and Garion suppressed a shudder as he rode under it.

The houses in the Nadrak capital were all very tall and had steeply sloping roofs. The windows of the second storeys all had shutters, and most of the shutters were closed. Any exposed wood on the structures had been smeared with tar to preserve it, and the splotches of the black substance made all the buildings look somehow diseased.