“Perhaps it was Princess Tanalasta who commissioned you, Harvestmaster?” Merula continued to look at Dauneth.
Azoun forced himself to keep an impassive face and stay silent. The matter fell under the purview of the Lord High Warden, and any interference from the king would be taken either as a sign of favor to the priests, or as a lack of confidence in the crown princess’s obedience to duty.
“I am sorry to say that Princess Tanalasta did not commission us.” Owden addressed himself directly to Azoun. “You see, Sire, it was something of an emergency. We happened across a free farmer who had seen the blight-bearer-“
“This tall beggar you have been asking about,” said Azoun, happy for any pretext to take control of the conversation. “You know, of course, that your inquiries have created a panic.”
“I apologize, Majesty,” Owden said, plucking at his purple cape, “but that is the reason for our disguises. We had hoped the inquiries of a company of Purple Dragons would seem less conspicuous.”
“And well they might have, if you had acted like a company of soldiers,” said Azoun. “In pausing to repair every blighted field you happened across, you persuaded everyone you met that I am so concerned about the situation that I have begun commissioning whole companies of priests.”
“It may come to that yet, Majesty,” said Owden.
“I’m sure you hope it will,” said Dauneth, “but I won’t have you causing a panic in these lands simply to promote yourselves. The peasants are already burning each others’ fields at the first sign of a wilt, and seven men have been murdered for the crime of matching your beggar’s description.”
Owden’s face fell at the news, but he kept his gaze fixed on Azoun. “I am sorry to have caused this trouble, Majesty, but it changes nothing. We must find this blight-carrier and stop him from wandering about. Until we do that, we must keep restoring the fields he infects and prevent the disease from spreading on its own.”
“I am sure he’ll be found soon,” said Azoun. “Every company of Purple Dragons north of the High Road is watching for him. Nor do I think there is much chance of the blight spreading on its own-not with the peasants burning their fields at the first sign of a brown leaf.”
“That will help certainly, but we are much practiced in these matters,” said Owden. “You must let us continue our search-if not as Purple Dragons, then as humble clerics.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” said Dauneth.
Owden finally directed his attention to the High Warden. “You’re arresting us?”
‘The Lord High Warden has no choice,” said Merula, smirking. “Impersonating a royal agent is a high crime, punishable by death.”
“By death?” This from one of Owden’s priests, a young red-haired woman no more than twenty. “We were only trying to help!”
Merula gave the woman a crocodile’s smile. “I’m sorry, but unless Princess Tanalasta commissioned you-“
“She didn’t,” said Owden. He shot the woman a warning scowl, then rose and stepped toward Dauneth. “Do with us what you must, Lord Warden, but I pray you, do not let this dark beggar wander these lands long. The blight may seem a little enough thing now, but that is only because we have contained it.”
Moving slowly so as not to alarm the guards, the harvestmaster pulled his mace from its carrying loop and presented the handle to Dauneth.
Azoun shot Merula a look that left no doubt about how the wizard’s mistrust had been received. Merula looked the other way and pretended not to notice, more secure than he should be in Vangerdahast’s ability to shield him from royal displeasure. The man’s smugness was a better argument than any Tanalasta had made for taking the war wizards down a notch.
Dauneth kept his hands on his saddle horn, making no move to accept Owden’s mace. “Actually, Merula may have overstated matters.” The High Warden cast a querying glance at Azoun, who smiled inwardly but kept a stern outer face and nodded curtly. “As I recall, those robes were issued to you on command of the royal magician for the purpose of escorting Princess Tanalasta into the Stonelands.”
“And while that may fall short of a royal commission, it does excuse you for wearing them,” said Azoun. Though he approved of Dauneth’s quick thinking, he could not let the Badgeless Maces off the hook entirely. He had worked too hard to bring the tumult of the past few days under control. “What you must answer for is disobeying my wishes and returning to chase this beggar instead of going with her into the Stonelands.”
Owden returned his mace to its carrying ring, relief flooding his face. “Of course, Majesty. That is really very easy to explain. In fact, I’ve come to think it was what Vangerdahast intended all along.”
“Truly? Now that will take some explaining.” Azoun raised his hand, commanding the harvestmaster to remain silent until he finished. “The queen will certainly wish a careful accounting of exactly what was said and done, in all the particulars-down to the minutest detail, I am sure. You and your priests are invited to return with us to Arabel, where you will be my guests until such a time as I am satisfied that you have prepared a record to the queen’s liking.”
Owden’s eyes dulled as he comprehended the king’s meaning. He bowed stiffly, then said, “As you command, Sire.”
“Good. On the journey back, perhaps you would be kind enough to tell Merula and me what you have learned about this beggar and his blight.” Azoun glanced darkly in Merula’s direction, then said, “I’m sure the war wizards can handle the matter-once they have the vaguest idea what’s going on.”
The dig seemed to delight Owden as much as it irritated Merula. “It would be a pleasure, Sire. Merula and I do enjoy talking while we travel.”
“Oh, immensely,” growled the wizard.
Azoun smiled at Merula’s glower. “Excellent,” he said, feeling that he finally had matters once again under control. “Dauneth, what say we camp tonight? It’s too late to start home, and we don’t want to put that poor free farmer out of his hut.”
“A fine idea, Sire,” said the High Warden, motioning to his lionars to set things in motion.
Azoun looked up at the darkening sky and saw the first star appear in the east. “It’s been too long since I’ve done this.” He began to finger his signet ring, then pictured Vangerdahast’s bearded face. “Too long indeed.”
Vangerdahast was standing on the grassy collar on the outlet side of Orc’s Pool, giving Cadimus and Tanalasta’s mare a few minutes grazing time when he heard Azoun’s voice.
I’ll be sleeping under the stars tonight, old friend.
Vangerdahast looked down and sighed wearily. Though the wizard’s own signet ring was in Cadimus’s saddle bags with most of his other magic, that did not prevent Azoun from contacting him. Mindful of the fact that he needed to be available to the royal family even when he had removed his ring to work in the laboratory or take a bath, the royal magician had taken the precaution of fashioning the family rings so that they could contact him whether or not he was wearing his. This wasn’t the first time he had had reason to regret his foresight-a late evening with a particularly frolicsome water nymph leaped immediately to mind-but it was the first time he had ever had reason to let it frighten him.
“And I won’t be sleeping at all, thanks to you,” Vangerdahast replied, speaking aloud. “What news?”
Matters are well in hand here. You can bring Tanalasta back any time.
“I’m afraid I can’t.” Vangerdahast began to root through Tanalasta’s saddle bags, pulling out her bracers, rings, and weathercloak. “Tanalasta won a bet. We’re at Orc’s Pool.”
A bet?
“Don’t ask,” the wizard said. “And it gets worse.”
She won’t give up on the temple?
‘Worse.”
What could be worse than that?
“A Cormaeril,” Vangerdahast explained. “A Chauntea worshiping Cormaeril ranger named Rowen. She seemed quite taken with him.”
I thought you had a plan! Azoun complained. What kind of plan is that?
“Don’t panic. Maybe he’ll turn out to have a nasty temper or hate royals or something.” Vangerdahast closed Tanalasta’s saddlebags and started around the pool toward the camp. “But we have bigger problems than that, at the moment. Ask Alaphondar to find out everything he can about a creature called a ghazneth. It’s a phantom or demon or something whose wings protect it from magic. I can’t seem to kill it.”
