‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a knife with a hook on its point before. What’s the purpose of that?’

“The hooks pull things out – things that most people prefer to keep inside.’ I looked at the implements admiringly. ‘Aren’t they lovely?’ I said. ‘They’re designed to hurt more coming out than they do going in.’

His face turned slightly green, and he shuddered. ‘This is a terrible woman, Gallak,’ he said to my owner. ‘How can you stand being around her?’

‘She’s good for me, your Majesty,’ Gallak replied. ‘She teaches me good manners. Not only that, she’s the best cook in Gar og Nadrak.’

‘In the world, actually, Gallak,’ I corrected him. ‘Well, Drosta,’ I said then, ‘what’s it to be? Did you want me to dance for you, or would you like supper?’

‘Dance first, Polanna,’ he leered. ‘Let’s see if your dancing whets my appetite.’ Then he looked around his crowded throne-room. ‘Clear the floor!’ he commanded. ‘Give this girl some room! Let’s find out if she’s as good as she seems to think she is!’

I took that to be a challenge, so I cast aside my customary restraint and added some elements I’d never tried in public before.

No, I won’t describe them here – the children, you understand.

King Drosta was trembling violently as I strutted back to reclaim my outer garment, and there was a somewhat awed look on his face. ‘Torak’s teeth!’ he swore. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that before!’

‘I told you I was the best, Drosta,’ I reminded him.

‘Are you positive you don’t want to sell her, Gallak?’ Drosta pleaded.

‘I think it’s my patriotic duty not to, your Majesty,’ my owner told him. ‘You have a reputation for excitability, and you might get carried away some day. I couldn’t in good conscience sell Polanna to you, since there’s no heir to the throne to succeed you.’

‘You wouldn’t really kill me, would you, Polanna?’ Drosta asked hopefully.

‘I’d regret it terribly, Drosta, but rules are rules, you understand. I’d try to make it as painless as possible, of course, but I’m sure there’d be some discomfort involved. My daggers aren’t designed for quickness – or neatness, for that matter. The process is usually very messy.’

‘You’re a cruel woman, Polanna. You flaunt something irresistible in front of me and then you tell me that you’ll yank out about twenty yards of my guts if I reach for it.’

That fairly well sums it up, yes. What would you like for supper, your Majesty?’

Gallak, Drosta, and I adjourned to the kitchens then, and I cooked supper for them.

‘We’ve got trouble, Gallak,’ Drosta said reflectively as he sprawled in a chair at the long table.

‘Oh?’ Gallak said.

‘How extensive are your contacts over in Drasnia?’

‘I’ve never been across the border personally, but I’ve got some people in Boktor.’

There’ll be a new king over there before long, won’t there?’

Gallak nodded. ‘The old one’s sinking fast. The Crown Prince’s name’s Rhodar. He’s fat, but he’s got a quick mind.’

‘I think I’d like to make some contacts with him. I’ve got a problem he might be able to help me with.’

‘Oh? Which problem is that?’

‘Its name is Taur Urgas, and it’s sitting on the throne in Rak Goska.’

‘The Murgos, you mean?’

‘It’s always the Murgos, Gallak. The world would be a much nicer place without the Murgos. Taur Urgas is crazy. Of course, that’s not too noticeable in Cthol Murgos. The whole race is crazy, but Taur Urgas raises it to an art form. I’m trying to establish some contacts with Zakath over in Mallorea. He’s the crown prince there, and he’s fairly civilized. I’m hoping that he’ll see the advantage of having an ally here on the western continent. Sooner or later, Taur Urgas is going to try to unify the western Angaraks, and I’d rather not be forced to bow down to a crazy Murgo.’

‘Wouldn’t it offend Taur Urgas if you made an alliance with Zakath?’

‘I don’t care if it offends him. If I’ve got Mallorea on my side, there won’t be much he can do about it. I’ve got a lot of territory, Gallak, but I don’t have very many people. If the Murgos march north, they’ll swallow us up. I have to form an alliance with somebody!’ He banged his fist down on the table.’

‘Is that why you want to get in touch with Rhodar?’ I broke in.

‘Of course. I’d ally myself with the Morindim if I thought it’d do any good. Have you got anybody we can trust to carry messages to Rhodar for me, Gallak?’

‘None that I’d trust that much, your Majesty.’

I had a flash of inspiration at that point, and I have quite a few suspicions about its origin. ‘There’s a young man I’ve heard of here in town, and from what I’ve heard, he’s very shrewd – even though he doesn’t shave regularly yet. He’s got some rough edges, so you might have to train him a bit, but he’s quick, so he’ll pick it up in no time. He hasn’t had time to build up much of a reputation as yet, so with a little training, he’d probably make the perfect emissary. He’s quick, intelligent, and relatively anonymous.’

‘What’s his name?’ Drosta asked.

‘Yarblek.’

‘Oh, that one,’ Gallak said. ‘I’ve heard of him myself. He brags a lot, but I don’t think he really expects people to believe his boasting.’ He considered it. ‘You know, he might just work out pretty well – if we can train him – and I can get him to Boktor more or less unobserved. I send caravans there a couple of times a year, and I could hide Yarblek among my ox-drivers.’ Then he snapped his fingers. ‘Here’s a thought,’ he added. ‘I know a fellow named Javelin at the Drasnian embassy. He’s supposed to be a clerk of some kind, but I’m fairly sure he’s a spy. I could talk with him, and he could pass the word back to Boktor that Yarblek’s carrying a message from you to Rhodar. That should get Yarblek into the palace.’

Drosta chewed on one of his fingernails. ‘I’ll need to see him,’ he said. ‘If he’s as good as you both think he is, he might be the answer to my problem. Where do I find him?’