Chapters (33)
- The Belgaraid
- Book Two:
- PROLOGUE
- Part One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- PART TWO
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Part ThreeNYISSA
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
The Arendish Fair lay at the intersection of the Great West Road and the mountain track leading down out of Ulgoland. It was a vast collection of blue, red and yellow tents and broad-striped pavilions stretching for a league or more in every direction. It appeared like a brightly hued city in the midst of the dun-colored plain, and its brilliant pennons snapped bravely in the endless wind under a lowering sky.
"I hope I'll have time to do some business," Silk said as they rode down a long hill toward the Fair. The little man's sharp nose was twitching. "I'm starting to get out of practice."
A half dozen mud-smeared beggars crouched miserably beside the road, their hands outstretched. Mandorallen paused and scattered some coins among them.
"You shouldn't encourage them," Barak growled.
"Charity is both a duty and a privilege, my Lord Barak," Mandorallen replied.
"Why don't they build houses here?" Garion asked Silk as they approached the central part of the Fair.
"Nobody stays here that long," Silk explained. "The Fair's always here, but the population's very fluid. Besides, buildings are taxed; tents aren't."
Many of the merchants who came out of their tents to watch the party pass seemed to know Silk, and some of them greeted him warily, suspicion plainly written on their faces.
"I see that your reputation's preceded you, Silk," Barak observed dryly.
Silk shrugged. "The price of fame."
"Isn't there some danger that somebody'll recognize you as that other merchant?" Durnik asked. "The one the Murgos are looking for?"
"You mean Ambar? It's not very likely. Ambar doesn't come to Arendia very often, and he and Radek don't look a bit alike."
"But they're the same man," Durnik objected. "They're both you."
"Ah," Silk said, raising one finger, "you and I both know that, but they don't. To you I always look like myself, but to others I look quite different."
Durnik looked profoundly skeptical.
"Radek, old friend," a bald Drasnian merchant called from a nearby tent.
"Delvor," Silk replied delightedly. "I haven't seen you in years."
"You look prosperous," the bald man observed.
"Getting by," Silk responded modestly. "What are you dealing in now?"
"I've got a few Mallorean carpets," Delvor told him. "Some of the local nobles are interested, but they don't like the price." His hands, however, were already speaking of other matters.-Your uncle sent out word that we were to help you if necessary. Do you need anything?"What are you carrying in your packs?" he asked aloud.
"Sendarian woolens," Silk answered, "and a few other odds and ends." Have you seen any Murgos here at the Fair?
-One, but he left for Vo Mimbre a week ago. There are some Nadraks on the far side of the Fair, though
-They're a long way from home-Silk gestured. Are they really in business?
It's hard to say-Delvor answered.
-Can you put us up for a day or so?