the old wizard. “Those who risked life and limb when they were convinced Lord Vangerdahast was a traitor?” She lowered her gaze to the floor and added, “As I did.”
One of Vangerdahast’s large and hairy-backed hands closed over hers. “Lady Highness,” he said gently, “how could you have thought otherwise?” The wizard rose and struck an actor’s pose. “After all, I learned how to act from the best tavern dancers in Suzail! My performance, I’ll have you know, was peerless… simply peerless!”
Tanalasta tried not to laugh, then snorted helplessly, and then roared. Vangerdahast blinked at her, affecting an air of innocence, and Azoun’s rich mirth rolled out to join them.
When at last she could speak again, Tanalasta asked, “Seriously, Father, what about those who remained true, like Marliir and Giogi?”
“And Vangerdahast’s mob of agents, including the Harper Emthrara, and that turret salesman-” the king snapped his fingers-“Rhauligan. A royal writ, absolving them from any charges, should do the trick. Particularly for the Harper and the merchant.”
“And there are absences to be accounted for and holes to fill,” continued the king. “For instance, with the passing of loyal Thomdor, I need a new military commander in Arabel. It strikes me that any candidate for such a post should be brave, loyal, and come from a local Arabellan family, so that the city will never go into rebellion again. Young Marliir, are you up to the task?”
“I?” asked Marliir, dumbfounded. “I-I-” He slid from his seat, dropping dazedly to one knee. “Are you sure, Sire?”
“We’ll save the ceremony for later, in front of the full court,” said Azoun with a smile, leaning froward to clap the young man on the shoulder, “but you’ll be a good Warden of the Eastern Marches. It’s good to see someone care so deeply about Cormyr. Moreover, your naming to that title will send a message to a number of people about their own place within my kingdom. And as for you, Lord Giogi “
“Please, Sire,” said the Wyvernspur lord, raising a restraining hand, “I’m quite content with my life in Immersea. I desire neither a military post nor a rank.”
“Good to hear it, for I was going to offer neither,” said the king heartily. “Bhereu’s place at High Horn needs to go to someone with fighting blood. Perhaps that Bishop of the Black Blades, Gwennath. Don’t take offense, young Wyvernspur, but I don’t think even the most capable courtiers could survive you for long-or rather, your unique method of crashing head-on into problems and wrestling them into submission without ever understanding them!”
There was a general round of chuckles. Giogi reddened and ducked his head.
“By the gods, I wish half my nobles were as much fun as you provide,” Azoun murmured, then straightened himself and boomed, “Nay, Wyvernspur, into your hands I give the Cormaeril lands, in toto, which should quintuple your income as well as your responsibilities. I hope you are up to it.”
“He’ll have a little help, Sire,” said Cat, taking her husband’s hand. Giogi opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything. He tried the process over again, several times, and then helplessly poked Cat with a finger.
She looked down at him fondly and said, “Your Majesty, Lord Wyvernspur is so honored that he’s speechless- for the moment.”
There were chuckles all around once more. Azoun raised his glass in salute to his dumbstruck noble and added, “I look forward to playing chess with you again in the near future, too.”
Even Giogi managed a chuckle-a rueful one-this time.
“I have one question,” said Tanalasta, curling her feet up under her where she sat. “Once you knew you were going to live, did anyone else know about it?”
“Well, I had to tell your mother,” said Azoun. “It wouldn’t do to have her find out that I was alive through court gossips.”
“And I sent word to Alusair,” added Vangerdahast, “through my war wizards, so she’d not worry-and wouldn’t come galloping home to defend the throne against the forty or so nobles who were already riding with her!”
“So what you’re telling me,” Tanalasta said to the wizard, her tone firm and her voice level, “is that I was the only one of the immediate royal family who did not know my own father was alive, and expected to remain so-and I wouldn’t have to take the throne at all.”
“Well, you might have told Aunadar, and, well…” said the wizard, before trailing off into silence. That silence suddenly held sway over the entire room. The crown princess leaned forward.
“Another of your little lessons, eh, mage?” Tanalasta pressed.
Vangerdahast cleared his throat. “Your Highness, as much as I respect your abilities, I have a duty to the crown, and as such must protect it as best as I can, whatever the personal cost.”
“And I can’t be the shy, dutiful daughter forever,” said the princess quietly. She sighed and then lifted her chin and added, “I cannot afford the luxury of being a royal wallflower. I’ve decided I must develop my own self, my own strengths, and my own goals.”
She stared into the old wizard’s eyes and added, “If I do not, I’ll always be a pawn, regardless of any apparent power I hold and no matter what crown I wear.”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it in quite so many words,” Vangerdahast replied, reddening and pointedly ignoring the smile that was growing on Azoun’s face.
“I would,” said the princess, crossing her arms. “Since this whole matter began, I’ve felt unprepared and unready. Unprepared to deal with my father’s illness, unready to deal with the vicious fights that promptly erupted among the nobles, and unwilling to take the throne on my own. That will have to change for Cormyr to continue. And you, wizard, will help.”
Vangerdahast stood up and bowed low to her. “When the crown princess calls, I will do everything in my power to advise and to aid.”
Tanalasta shook her head. “No. I’ll not be your puppet any more than I should have been Bleth’s. I want your real help. Long ago you and my father went traipsing all over the kingdom, did you not?”
“Ah, yes,” said the wizard carefully. “It was necessary for a prince to truly know the realm and its people.”
“And not a princess?” asked Tanalasta sharply.
Vangerdahast shrugged. “Well, I suppose we could make a few trips. You’ll need some proper walking boots and warm, sensible clothing… and you should know the bath water in the wilderness will be colder than you’re used to.”
He seemed to remember something and added brightly, “There may be weretigers…”
Azoun looked at the ceiling, but Tanalasta thought she saw the beginnings of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
“… but I’m told my snoring isn’t all that bad,” the old wizard continued, “and these old bones can still carry me a little way. But you already know most of what I could teach you: history, accounts, genealogy, and the like…”
“You can teach me magic,” said Tanalasta flatly.
In all his years with Vangerdahast, Azoun had never seen him stammer. The Royal Magician’s eyes opened very wide, and he stammered now, his mouth flapping as he tried to get out the words, “Oh! Ah! Oh-W-Well there’s never been an Obarskyr mage before…”
“Then it is seriously overdue,” said the princess, “and you’re the one who said that the kingdom needs both spells and swords to keep afloat! So what say you, mage?”
The wizard looked rather helplessly at the others. Dauneth Marliir stared at him intently, face carefully expressionless but eyes leaping with excitement, urging him to say yes. That one was going to be a diplomat, the wizard thought, and looked elsewhere.
Giogi patted Cat’s hand and raised a goblet in toast to the idea.
Azoun spread his hands and said, “It is your decision, Royal Magician. Of course, I can refuse my eldest daughter nothing.”
Vangerdahast let out a deep sigh, one that seemed to come from the core of his being. He blinked once, then smiled faintly.
“Very well,” he said raising his own goblet. “Once more into the breach, for crown and for country for king and for queen, and most of all… for Cormyr.”
