Beyond the High Road (7 page)

“Tell Merula I will speak with him later,” interrupted Vangerdahast, “and assure him the War Wizards’ influence is not threatened.”

Azoun glanced at Vangerdahast from the corner of his eye. “Quite sure of ourselves, aren’t we?”

“Quite,” the wizard replied, voicing more conviction than he felt.

The Sage Most Learned still did not leave.

“Something else?” Azoun asked.

“I’m afraid so, Majesty. Duke Marliir is demanding an audience,” said Alaphondar. “He’s angry about being asked to host a party so Princess Tanalasta could announce she would not be marrying his son.”

“Of course. Show him in.” Azoun sighed heavily, twirling the crown on his fingers, then looked up at Vangerdahast. “Lord Magician, by the time we finish today, I am sure you will have a plan for untangling this brilliant mess you’ve made.”

“Of course, Sire.” Vangerdahast took the crown, then placed it on Azoun’s head at an angle just jaunty enough to make it appear the king had been celebrating his birthday a little too hard. “Whatever you command.”

The stables smelled of straw and leather and predawn dew, and of the many other joys of honest labor that had remained so carefully hidden from Tanalasta throughout much of her life. She would miss the odor of toil when she returned to Suzail, but at least she would know where to find it again when the palace’s bouquet of perfume and prevarication grew overwhelming. Tanalasta slipped the breast collar over the mule’s neck, then buckled it into place and passed the reins to Harvestmaster Foley, sitting above her on the driver’s bench. The rest of the priests were kneeling in the wagon cargo bed with their tools and gear, eager for the day’s work to begin.

The crunch of approaching feet sounded from the stable yard outside. Tanalasta turned to see her parents advancing through the early morning gloom, Vangerdahast and the usual entourage of guards in tow. Though the sun would he up in less than half an hour their eyelids remained heavy with sleep and their hair uncombed.

“The king and queen,” Owden gasped, “and they don’t look happy.”

“I wouldn’t read much into their appearance,” Tanalasta said. “It’s not the palace’s custom to rise before the sun.” Not so long ago, Tanalasta too would have regarded a predawn rising as an interruption of the choicest pillow time. “I’m sure Vangerdahast spent the night bending their ears about the royal temple.”

A distressed look came to Owden’s face, but Tanalasta gave him a reassuring smile and went outside to meet her parents.

“Your Majesties, I did not expect to see you up so early.”

“No? Then you were hoping to sneak out under cover of darkness?”

The king made his query sound like a joke, but there was a bitter edge to the question, and Tanalasta could sense the schism between her parents and the royal magician. Though the trio was normally close-knit, Azoun and Vangey barely looked at each other, and her mother stood a little apart from both of them. Tanalasta curtsied, acknowledging the irritation in her father’s tone.

“It is the custom of Chauntea’s folk to start early.” As Tanalasta spoke, the royal guards formed a small circle around the group, lest any of the Marliir stable boys scurrying through the gray morning pause to eavesdrop. “We have had disturbing news from Tyrluk. The blight has broken out in ten places around the village, and the crop was already half lost before the messenger left town.”

Owden Foley stepped gingerly past a guard to come up beside Tanalasta. “At that rate, Majesty, every field between the High Road and the Storm Horns will be a total loss within the tenday.”

“That is why we keep the royal granaries full.” Azoun ignored the Harvestmaster and continued to focus on Tanalasta. “We have not seen the princess in over a year. I would really rather she didn’t run off-“

“Within a tenday, you say?” Vangerdahast interrupted, stepping past Azoun toward Owden. “That is exceedingly fast, is it not?”

Owden nodded grimly. “The fastest I have ever seen. If we do not move quickly, the whole of Cormyr could lose its crop.”

“Truly?” Vangerdahast ran his fingers through his long beard, then turned to the royal couple. “Majesties, we may have a situation here worthy of our closest attention.”

Azoun frowned in confusion. “Just yesterday, you told me that Merula the Marvelous-“

“I fear Tanalasta may have been right about him,” Vangerdahast said, again interrupting. “Unless you want a dragon blasted apart or a company of orcs put to sleep, Merula the Marvelous is a bit of a wand waver.”

The king and queen exchanged perplexed glances, then Filfaeril asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“Merula wouldn’t know a blight from a blotch,” said Vangerdahast. “He assured me the disease would never escape the mountains, and the next day here it is in Tyrluk. When it comes to plants, we might be better to put our faith in the judgment of the good Harvestmaster.”

Tanalasta wondered what trick Vangerdahast was working now, then frowned as the old pettifogger turned to address Owden.

“Harvestmaster Foley, what would you say is the origin of this blight?”

“It appeared first in the mountains, and it molds the roots just below the surface.” Owden rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then said, “It may very well be some sort of cave fungus-carried by orcs, I imagine. The filthy creatures spend a lot of time crawling about in caverns, and a wandering band would explain why the disease seems to be jumping around.”

“Excellent observation, Owden… if I may be so informal,” said Vangerdahast.

“Of course, Lord Magician,” said Owden.

“Vangerdahast, please, or Vangey if you prefer. We really don’t stand on ceremony in private.” The old wizard cast a sidelong glance at Tanalasta, then added, “As you may be aware, sometimes I am even referred to as ‘that damned old staff-swinger.’”

“Really? I hadn’t heard that,” said Owden, lying beautifully. Tanalasta had spent her first tenday or so at Huthduth complaining about the wizard and doing very little else, and she considered it a tribute to the harvestmaster’s patience that she had not been asked to leave. “The princess always referred to you in a rather fatherly fashion.”

“How kind of you to say so.”

Suspicious of Vangerdahast’s polite tone, Tanalasta studied her parents for hints as to why the royal magician was trying to befriend Owden. Even in the rosy dawn light now spilling across the stable yard gate, their expressions betrayed nothing beyond the same confusion she felt.

Vangerdahast turned to the king. “Majesty, perhaps we should send word to High Horn to triple their orc patrols and see to it that the beasts are kept far clear of Cormyr. If I may borrow a few scouts from the Purple Dragons, I’ll also have the War Wizards send out teams to seal the mouths of any caverns the orcs have been inhabiting.”

“And you’ll claim it was the War Wizards who stopped the blight,” Tanalasta surmised. “I see what you’re doing, you old thief.”

Vangerdahast turned to her with an innocent expression. “I am trying to stop the blight,” he said. “I thought that was what you wanted.”

“Of course,” said Tanalasta, “but if you think you can use Owden’s knowledge to steal the credit from the Royal Temple

“

“Vangerdahast isn’t stealing the credit from anybody,” said Azoun. “There isn’t going to be any Royal Temple.”

“What?” Tanalasta whirled on her father so fast that several bodyguards glanced reflexively over their shoulders. “You let Vangerdahast talk you out of it without hearing me first? That’s hardly fair.”

“Actually, Vangerdahast never said a word against the Royal Temple,” said the king. “Your mother and I had barely retired from the ball before high priests began to fill the Marliir’s foyer, all insisting that the palace establish royal temples to their own gods and goddesses.”

“Why shouldn’t we?” Tanalasta asked evenly. Owden stood at her side looking serene. They had decided earlier that their best strategy in an argument would be for Owden to maintain an air of patient confidence. “As long as each church pays its own costs, what harm can it do to curry the favor of the gods?”

Filfaeril regarded Tanalasta as though she were mad. “Curry favor from the Prince of Lies? Or the Maiden of Pain?” The queen shook her head in disbelief. “Perhaps you should be Loviatar’s first royal acolyte. You’re certainly causing your parents enough anguish.”

Tanalasta fell silent, not because she had failed to anticipate the argument, but because she was surprised to hear the queen voicing it instead of Vangerdahast. Before, her mother had always supported her against the wizard, and it shook her confidence to see the normal order of things reversed. She smiled at a gawking stable boy stumbling past with two buckets of warm goat’s milk, then returned her attention to the queen.

‘The term ‘royal’ implies the sponsorship of an Obarskyr does it not?” Tanalasta did not put as much acid as she had planned into the question, for she could not quite bring herself to speak to the queen in such tones. “I have faith enough in our family to think that even Cyric’s new Seraph of Lies could not arrange such a thing.”

“And I share that faith,” said Azoun. In contrast to Filfaeril, the king spoke in a patient, if firm, voice. “But other considerations take precedence. First, you know how the nobles make a vogue of anything we do.”

“There are worse fads to start,” Tanalasta said.

“Perhaps, but we must also think of the War Wizards. They will take it as a grave insult to their skill and loyalty if the crown suddenly finds it necessary to establish another corps of magic-users.”

“And the crown princess should not need to be told of the War Wizards’ importance to the realm,” added the queen. The dawn had finally turned yellow, and in its golden light Filfaeril looked more like an angry celestial seraph than Tanalasta’s mother. “Nor of the dangers of undermining their value by creating a divisive atmosphere. Already this morning, I have heard several wizards refer to your priests as ‘spell-beggars’ and ‘mommy’s boys.’”

Vangerdahast gave Owden an apologetic nod. “No offense, of course. I’ll have a word with them about such epithets.”

“Not necessary,” said the harvestmaster, not quite managing to mask the indignity in his voice. “Their jealous-ah-resentment is understandable.”

Vangerdahast only smiled at what everyone knew to be an intentional slip of the tongue, and Tanalasta began to fear that her mother’s argument had merit. If Owden could not handle Vangerdahast on his best behavior, she shuddered to think of the enmity that would be unleashed when the old guttermouth gave himself free rein.

Tanalasta addressed herself to the queen. “If the crown must fear the consequences of the War Wizards’ anger, then perhaps they are not as great an asset to the realm as we believe.” She smiled in Vangerdahast’s direction. “I am sure we may be confident of the royal magician’s ability to keep them under control. Really, it would be a shame to let petty politics prevent us from doing what is best for the realm. Vangerdahast himself has pointed out that only the priests of Chauntea can deal with crises such as this.”

Even on his best behavior, this was a bit too much for Vangerdahast. “That is not quite what I said, young lady. A small crop blight is hardly a crisis for a kingdom like Cormyr.”

“Nor do we want to make it seem like one,” said Azoun. “Creating a new organization to respond to it is bound to do just that. It could cause a general panic that would lead to hoarding, thievery and profiteering. I’m sorry Tanalasta. You’ll have to announce that Chauntea called Owden and his priests back to Huthduth.”

“But she hasn’t,” Tanalasta said. “The goddess wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“It’s no reflection on Owden or Chauntea, or even on your decision to venerate the All Mother,” said Filfaeril. “This simply isn’t the time to establish a royal temple. You shouldn’t have announced it without discussing it with us first, and I’m sure you know that. Trying to force this onus is unforgivable-as unforgivable as Vangey’s attempt to embarrass you into taking a husband before it is too late.”

“Too late?” Tanalasta fairly shrieked the words, for her mother had touched a tender chord. She turned to Vangerdahast. “So that’s how it is. You would turn my own parents against me to get what you want.”

Vangerdahast arched his bushy eyebrows, and something like sorrow seemed to flash in his dark eyes. “I am sorry, milady, but I have no idea what you mean.”

“A marriage for a royal temple. Is that to be the agreement?” Tanalasta looked to her parents. “If a child is the only thing I am permitted to give the realm, then at least let me do that well. Trust me, it would be better to leave my field fallow than to plow it with a man I do not love.”

Azoun paled and glanced around the stable yard, then, with a few quick nods, signaled the guards to clear it. Filfaeril’s reaction was different. Though her eyes filled with tears, she flashed Tanalasta the same icy glare that had crushed razor-tongued duchesses and iron-willed army marshals.

“Your father’s decision has nothing to do with anything Vangerdahast may have said.” Filfaeril’s voice cracked, but she stepped closer to her daughter and continued in an even harsher tone. “The king is thinking of Cormyr. It is time for you to stop being so selfish and do the same thing.”

Vangerdahast’s eyes grew wide. “Your Majesty, you mustn’t.”

A small wad of cotton appeared in the wizard’s hand, but Filfaeril’s hand was clamped on his wrist before he could speak his incantation.

“Vangerdahast!” Filfaeril’s tone was threatening. “If you cast that silence spell, even Azoun will not have the power to keep your head on your shoulders.”

The wad vanished into the wizard’s sleeve. “Filfaeril, I beg you. You’re making a mistake.”

“Perhaps, but she has had twenty years to find a husband she likes.” The queen turned back to Tanalasta. “Now she will settle for Dauneth Marliir.”

Owden Foley stepped to the queen’s side. “Your Majesty, if I may, there is something you should know.”

“Owden, no!” Tanalasta grasped the harvestmaster’s shoulder and shoved him toward a guard. “This man is dismissed.”

“Not yet,” said the king. He gestured to Owden. “Is there something we should know about Tanalasta’s condition?”