Rowen nodded. “Gaspar was my cousin, and as great a traitor to our family as he was to the realm.”
Tanalasta’s heart fell. Along with Aunadar Bleth, Gaspar Cormaeril had been one of the ringleaders in the Abraxus Affair. As punishment for his prominent role, her father had seized the lands of the entire Cormaeril family.
When Tanalasta could not find the words to express her dismay, Rowen bowed deeply and did not rise. “I apologize for vexing you with my presence, Majesty. Had it been possible, I’m certain the Princess Alusair would have sent someone else.”
“I doubt it,” growled Vangerdahast. The wizard looked to Tanalasta and shook his head. “She couldn’t have been happy to hear from you. This is her way of showing it.”
“Must you always think the worst of people, Lord Magician?” Tanalasta went over to Rowen. “I’m sure she sent Sir Rowen because she knew him to be the best man for the job.”
The princess presented her hand to Rowen, who was so startled that he looked up and did not take it. She smiled and nodded, holding it in place. Somewhat reluctantly, he took her hand by the fingers and brushed his lips to the back.
“Only Rowen, Majesty,” he said. “My title was taken with the family lands.”
“Just Rowen, then.” Tanalasta noticed Vangerdahast rolling his eyes and shot him a frown, then gestured for Rowen to rise. “Tell me, Rowen, is that your Faith Planting I noticed at the edge of the meadow?”
Rowen’s eyes grew as round as coins. “Yes, Majesty, it is-but I’m surprised you know that. I didn’t think anyone but Children of Chauntea would recognize it.”
Tanalasta smiled. “They wouldn’t-and please, don’t call me Majesty. Tanalasta will do.”
Vangerdahast hoisted himself to his feet. “By the Blue Dragon!” he cursed. “Alusair sends us a groundsplitter!”
8
The cabbage had already started to go, the big leaves curling and turning brown along the edges, the immature heads wilting open. A tall beggar in a ragged cape was striding across the field diagonally, paying no heed to the angry free farmer hurling insults and dirt clods in his direction. In the dusky light, the intruder was a mere silhouette half again as tall as a man, with a lurching gait and beady red eyes just bright enough to be seen beneath his billowing hood.
“That’s the signal,” Azoun whispered. “He has them.”
“Well done, Sire,” said Dauneth Marliir. “It will be good to be done with these rabble.”
“They’re hardly rabble, Lord Warden.” Azoun eased his horse into the shadows beneath a young ash. “They’re trying to help.”
“Yes, but help whom?” Dauneth followed him into the shadows. “I am sure it has occurred to His Majesty that they might be spreading this alarm purposely, to win support for their royal temple. And I must say it’s working. As matters stand now, the blight could spoil half the fields in the realm and the peasants would still hold these seed fingers as heroes.”
A dozen riders burst from the woods on the other side of the field and started across at a full gallop, yelling promises of restitution as they passed. The beggar, now only a few paces from the ambush site, paid his pursuers no attention and continued forward at the same even stride.
“If the blight takes half the fields in the realm, perhaps they would be heroes,” said Azoun. “It would certainly mean we have not been seeing to our duties, Lord Warden. Besides, Owden and his priests are not the only ones who have seen the blight-spreader.”
“Indeed-the peasants see the fellow everywhere,” said Dauneth. “In Bospir, they burned another tinker at the stake this morning-and he wasn’t even tall. This one just happened to be wearing a black cloak when a free farmer saw him doing his business by the side of the road.”
Azoun winced. That was the seventh lynching he had heard of in the last three days, and the rate seemed to be increasing. Perhaps he should have listened to Dauneth two days ago and sent a squad of war wizards to track down the “Badgeless Maces” then, but he had not wanted to embarrass Tanalasta by returning her friends to Arabel in shackles. Moreover, he had regarded Dauneth’s motives as somewhat suspect, fearing the young lord had made the suggestion out of anger at Tanalasta.
Of course, Azoun should have known better. The High Warden was too loyal to let his personal feelings interfere with duty. The priests had indeed created the panic Dauneth feared, and now innocent people were being killed. The king was almost relieved to find his own judgment in this matter less sound than that of the High Warden, it suggested that Dauneth was not holding a grudge, and the throne had need of a loyal warden in Arabel. Once they brought Owden Foley and the “Badgeless Maces” under control, perhaps Azoun could even declare the damage wrought by Tanalasta undone.
The red-eyed beggar lurched past Azoun’s hiding place and disappeared into the trees at the rear of the small clearing, the Badgeless Maces close behind. A row of Purple Dragons emerged from the trees to meet the company of priests. The dragoneers wore their visors raised and held their lances posted on their stirrup rests, but their grim expressions left no doubt that they were present on a serious matter. The Badgeless Maces hauled back on their reins, barely managing to bring their mounts to a stop before the dragoneers.
As confused as they were, the priests remained determined to capture their quarry. A handful tried to ease through the Purple Dragons only to find their way blocked by a lowered lance. Several more wheeled around to circle the line, only to find another row of dragoneers emerging from the trees to block their way. Even then, it did not seem to occur to the priests that this was anything more than a chance meeting.
“What are you doing?” Owden gestured into the woods where the tall beggar had disappeared. “After that man! He’s a danger to the land!”
“Hardly.” Merula the Marvelous stepped out of the wood, his eyes still glowing red and the hood of his black cloak now pulled down on his collar “I am not the one riding about the north, scaring witless peasants half-to-death with tales of dark phantoms and impending famine.”
Owden’s shoulders slumped, then he lowered his mace and fixed his gaze on the portly wizard. “Merula the Massive? Explain yourself! You’re interfering with a royal commission charged with a matter of the highest urgency.”
“Really?” Azoun urged his horse out of his hiding place behind the priests, bringing with him Dauneth Marliir and the final rank of Purple Dragons. “Strange, I do not recall commissioning a company of ‘Badgeless Maces’ into the Purple Dragons.”
The entire band of priests wheeled at once, their faces paling at the sight of Azoun’s battle-crowned helm.
“Majesty!”
Owden swung out of his saddle, then knelt on the ground and bowed his head. His priests followed half a step behind, moving so quickly that several overcautious dragoneers lowered their lances.
Azoun motioned the lances up again, then continued to look at Owden and his priests. “In fact, I don’t recall commissioning any company of priests at all, nor charging them with…” He looked to Dauneth. “What was the phrase, Lord Warden?”
“I believe it was ‘A matter of the highest urgency,’ Sire.”
“Ah yes.” Azoun repeated the phrase as though trying to refresh his memory then shook his head. “No, I’m quite certain I never said such a thing.”
Owden dared to raise his head. “Forgive my presumption, Majesty, but we, ah, assumed the title.”
“Assumed, Harvestmaster Owden?” asked Merula. He stepped to Owden’s side, then glanced in Dauneth’s direction. “That would make you an imposter, you know. It would make you all impostors.”
The king bit his tongue, trying desperately to hide a sudden surge of anger. Merula was doing his best to place Owden in the untenable position of confessing to the impersonation of a royal agent, or admitting that Tanalasta had defied the king’s order. Apparently, the wizard remained concerned about the War Wizards’ future after Tanalasta took the throne-this despite Azoun’s personal guarantee that their position would be secure no matter who succeeded him.
