'My apologies for intruding, Azoun,' Vangerdahast said softly as he closed the gilt door. 'How was your rest?'
'I feel fine, Vangy.' He moved restlessly to the window and added wryly, 'Until I saw your expression just now, I almost suspected you of casting a spell to restore me.'
'Not against your wishes,' the wizard said, coming to the king's side.
'No, I really didn't think so.'
Noting an irritability in the king's voice, Vangerdahast decided to tread carefully with his questions. It was obvious Azoun had slept little. 'Are you ready to meet with the Zhentish envoy?'
The king chuckled a humorless laugh and pushed himself away from the window. 'I must be,' he said firmly. 'I can't let madmen or intractable dalesmen or anything else get in the way of this crusade. I must be ready.'
Without waiting for a reply, the king spun on his heels and headed out into the hall. The wizard trailed behind him, making mental notes of the orders the king snapped off. Finally, Azoun reached his study. Before he opened the door, he noted that a sizable reward should be sent to the man who'd captured Bors in the crowd and that the would-be assassin's trial should be convened immediately.
'He'll almost certainly be put to death,' Vangerdahast replied, watching the king's eyes for a reaction.
Azoun's expression, a mixture of cold resolve and vague distraction, didn't change. 'If he hadn't killed those people it might have been different. I have to uphold the law. I want the masters of the Trappers' Guild called to court, too. They have much to answer for.'
Vangerdahast hesitated before he replied. Anger, not just irritability, had a hold upon the Cormyrian king, the wizard realized. It was very much unlike Azoun to act that way, but, then, the last few days had been unusual themselves.
'Perhaps I should reschedule the meeting with the Zhentish envoy,' Vangerdahast ventured, hoping that his friend might recognize the cause for the suggestion.
Azoun's forehead furrowed deeply as he narrowed his eyes and glared at the wizard. That expression was only temporary. The dark look on the king's face passed as quickly as a lone storm cloud on a bright summer's afternoon. Vangerdahast silently breathed a sigh of relief.
'That won't be necessary,' Azoun noted, clasping his hands together in front of him. 'Besides, if I don't convince the dalesmen that we can leave in the next tenday or so, the Tuigan will conquer most of Thesk. At that point, we might as well do as Lord Mourngrym suggests and wait for the barbarians to show up on our doorstep.'
Vangerdahast sighed and hoped that the king could shake off his concerns long enough to parley with the envoy that afternoon. 'Should I bring our Zhentish visitor here when he arrives?' the wizard asked as he turned to leave.
'No,' Azoun replied. He opened the study's door. 'I want to skim a book or two and clear my mind. Bring the envoy to the throne room.'
Vangerdahast raised an eyebrow. 'You don't usually meet mere envoys there, Your Highness.'
The king smiled-a little wickedly, Vangerdahast noted with mild surprise-and said, 'No doubt the ambassador will know that and expect a more casual greeting. I think it wise to keep him off balance, don't you?'
The royal wizard returned the king's smile, though his was undoubtedly tinged with a mischievous malice. 'Of course, Your Highness,' he said. Vangerdahast bowed, then hurried down the hall, his concern for Azoun lessening as he pondered the king's strategy.
Azoun quietly entered the study and sat at his desk. First, he scribbled a note to Torg, the dwarven king of Earthfast, informing him of the crusade's status. That done, the king opened the large, leather-bound book that lay on the desk. For a short time, he read and reread the passages describing the 'black days' under Salember, the Rebel Prince. The citizens of Cormyr, and especially Suzail, were reportedly very supportive of the crusade. Despite this, Azoun wondered-as he had for much of the night-whether or not his people really did believe his plans to be in their best interest.
The king knew that history might report him to be the next traitor to Cormyr if Bors was an accurate manifestation of his subjects' true feelings about the crusade-his crusade. What his descendants thought of him mattered to Azoun more than it probably should have, so before he headed to the throne room to meet the Zhentish envoy, he devised a plan by which he might discover the people's real opinion of the crusade and uncover any plots the trappers might have hatched for open revolt.
Putting that plan into action would have to wait for the following night, when he'd have a chance to make a suitable disguise.
The royal chamberlain, decked out in his finest costume, entered the throne room. He strode pompously to the center of the large hall and bowed to the figure on a throne at the room's opposite end. After a few moments of silence, which seemed to the Zhentish envoy like an hour, he sharply rapped the tip of his gold-shod staff on the polished marble beneath his feet.
'Your Highness, may I present Lythrana Dargor, special envoy from Lord Chess at Zhentil Keep.'
The introduction rang through the room, echoing off the stone floor and beautiful stained glass windows, eventually getting lost in the rich tapestries that covered most of the walls. Special Envoy Dargor stood patiently still, despite the fact that she had been told in Zhentil Keep not to expect any formality when dealing with Azoun IV.
On the throne, the king tapped his foot, silently counting off the time before he would allow the Zhentish politician to advance. He fidgeted slightly and toyed with his long purple cloak. At Azoun's side, Vangerdahast stood, resplendent in his most colorful robe. A closer look at the wizard would reveal red, bloodshot eyes and a slight pallor about his cheeks, but he hid his exhaustion almost as well as Azoun masked his.
After a short time, when Azoun felt certain the wait must be seeming like an eternity to the visiting dignitary, the king sat up straight and said, 'Let her advance, Lord Chamberlain.'
The chamberlain bowed again and turned to Lythrana. She straightened her gray blouse, petulantly brushed a stray strand of raven-black hair, then started toward the king. Her high-heeled boots sent sharp, cracking footsteps throughout the hall, and her black, high-collared dress hissed where it dragged along on the floor behind her.
'It is a pleasure to finally meet Your Highness,' Lythrana said in a low sibilant voice after she bowed.
'We are pleased that Zhentil Keep sent such an accomplished politician to discuss Faerun's needs,' the king responded. Though Vangerdahast chuckled inwardly at Azoun's use of the royal 'we,' an affection he rarely adopted, he knew the king was serious in his praise of the Zhentish envoy. Lythrana Dargor's reputation as a shrewd negotiator was well known throughout the lands around the Inner Sea.
Noting the king's praise with a slight smile, Lythrana said, 'On my way from the Keep, I learned of the recent attempt on your life. Lord Chess would certainly wish me to send his hopes that you escaped unscathed.'
'This was the first you'd heard of the attempt?' Vangerdahast asked, a bitter taint of sarcasm edging his voice.
Spreading her long-fingered, white hands open before her in a sign of peace, the sultry envoy said, 'It is natural for the king's worthy advisors-' she bowed slightly to Vangerdahast '-to suspect Zhentil Keep in this matter. We make no secret of the methods by which we solve our problems, or the gods we worship.' The envoy brushed her long bangs out of her eyes. On her forehead lay a circle of black, surrounding a white, grinning skull-the symbol of Lord Cyric, the God of Death, Lies, and Assassination.
'We appreciate your honesty,' the king said coolly.
Again Lythrana nodded and let her hair fall back over the symbol of her god. 'While we are being honest, Your Highness, might I be so bold to ask why the Keep was not invited to the general meeting you held with your nobles, the Sembians, and the dalesmen?'
Vangerdahast shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable at the bluntness of the discussion. The wizard glanced at the king and was a bit surprised to see that Azoun was taking it all in stride. 'The others were not in the right spirit to discuss plans for a foreign war in front of a Zhentish representative,' he stated without hesitation. 'Had you been at the meeting, I might not have found the other politicians very cooperative. Still, the lack of an invitation did not prevent you from spying on the conference.'
Lythrana studied the king for a moment, puzzled by his honesty. She close to ignore the accusation, tacitly confessing the Keep's guilt. Instead she noted, 'I infer from your comments that your crusade is gathering the support it needs.'
