a gallop. As he rode, Azoun let the cool air wash the fury from his heart. He allowed the birdsong he heard and the bright sunshine dappling the road ahead of him to soothe and relax him.
All the way back to the city, he turned the problem over and over again in his mind. At first, he saw no other alternative but to refuse the Keep's proposal-and lose the support of the dalesmen and any troops he might gain from Zhentil Keep itself. Many of Azoun's own subjects had been victimized by the roving bands of thieves and slavers who used Darkhold as a base. Time and again, Cormyrian merchants had complained to the king about the powerful citadel. Azoun had done his best to curb the raiding parties coming from the stronghold, but Darkhold itself was located outside of Cormyr's borders and protected by powerful magic. Destroying the citadel utterly was out of the question. Still, Azoun knew that it his duty to combat the evil based there.
As the miles wore on and his initial anger and revulsion at the idea wore off, the king began to wonder if a flat refusal was all that wise.
I am serving my gods by fighting the men of Darkhold, he decided without much thought. But do I further my cause more when I combat lesser evil like that or when I battle a massive evil like the Tuigan?
An answer did not come to Azoun easily, and when he had tentatively decided on a course of action, he wasn't sure that it was the right one. In fact, he changed his mind on the way to Suzail, then once more as he prepared for dinner.
That evening, Lythrana and Azoun were joined by Filfaeril and Vangerdahast in the castle's vast formal dining room. A long, highly polished table of pale wood stood in the room's center. Curtains of deep red velvet covered the windows and reflected dully in the polished oak floor. Together, the floor and the wall hangings first echoed, then damped the high, sweet notes from Thom Reaverson's harp as he played a light tune.
The meal passed swiftly. Vangerdahast spent some time in idle, pleasant chatting with Queen Filfaeril. Azoun and Lythrana kept to themselves, but for very different reasons: the Cormyrian king pondered the growing price of the crusade; the Zhentish envoy silently wondered at the meeting's outcome.
'That will be all, Thom,' Azoun said as soon as the meal was over. He pushed his untouched plate of imported strawberries away and signaled for a servant to clear the table.
Turning to the king, Vangerdahast rose to his feet. 'I think I will retire, Your Highness. The matters left for you to discuss do not require my presence.' With a stiff bow, the wizard shuffled from the dining room.
Within minutes the table was clear and only Azoun, Filfaeril, and Lythrana were left in the cavernous hall.
'I find it hard to believe Vangerdahast has lived over eighty winters,' Lythrana began casually. She stretched luxuriously, once again comfortable in her tight black dress. 'He seems no older than fifty. In fact, someone at the Keep mentioned he looked about that age ten years ago, too.'
Azoun cast a disinterested glance at the envoy. 'He's a wizard, Lady Lythrana. It should be no surprise to you that he ages little; such practices are common among the mages at the Keep, too.' He looked to his wife, who was oddly subdued in the presence of the exotic envoy. 'But my advisor's age isn't what we're here to discuss.'
'The demands haven't changed, Your Highness. Let Darkhold go about its business unmolested for one year.'
'And?' the king prompted.
Lythrana paused. 'We sign a pact with the Dales. You get the dalesmen to provide you with archers for the crusade.'
'That's not enough,' Azoun said sharply. His voice echoed from the floor. 'There are at least one hundred thousand Tuigan in Thesk right now. I want Zhentish troops to stand with the rest of Faerun.'
Lythrana leaned back from the table. She started to speak, then swallowed her words and sighed.
'You're afraid of them too, Lythrana,' Azoun rumbled. 'I can see it in your eyes when I talk about them.' He stood up and turned his back to the table.
The emissary bowed her head. 'Of course I am. I was one of the people the Keep sent to spy on the Tuigan.' She pulled down the high collar of her black dress. A long red scar marred her otherwise perfectly white shoulder. 'I was the only one of my party to escape alive.'
The king whirled around. 'Then help me. Give me troops.'
Lythrana met Azoun's gaze again. 'I want to,' she hissed after a moment, 'but the Keep won't. Not without something in return.'
The king paused. He knew that this was all the envoy had to offer, that Lythrana would not, could not concede him anything else. The king's course was set; Azoun had decided after the hunt that reasons of state demanded only one decision from him. 'We'll leave Darkhold alone for two seasons,' he said at last.
'No. A year.'
Azoun sighed, then nodded. 'A year.'
The words burned like acid in Azoun's soul. He knew that he was allowing the network of evil that connected Zhentil Keep and Darkhold-the Zhentarim-free reign to attack travelers and raid caravans, but he saw no other solution. If the Tuigan came to Cormyr, they'd cause a thousand times more suffering than the troops in Darkhold could ever create. He needed the archers from the Dales to stop that from happening.
Azoun pointed a slightly quivering finger at Lythrana. 'Darkhold will be left unhindered for a year,' he said, 'but I want troops. And if I don't get them, or if Zhentil Keep stands in the way of this crusade again, I promise you that Darkhold will be crushed to rubble.'
Lythrana was shocked into silence for an instant. 'Of course,' she agreed after a time. 'Zhentil Keep wants the Tuigan stopped as much as you.'
The Zhentish envoy looked over at the queen, who sat quietly at the end of the table. 'Are you taking notes?' she asked, her words mixed with puzzlement and sarcasm.
Locking her ice-blue eyes on Lythrana's cold stare, Filfaeril smiled pleasantly. 'No,' she said. 'The crusade is Azoun's matter.'
Lythrana arched a thin black eyebrow under her raven-dark bangs. Noting the look on the envoy's face, the queen added, 'However, if Zhentil Keep breaks its word and attacks the Dales or Cormyr while the king is in Thesk, I will be here to mount an army against you.'
Narrowing her eyes to green slits, Lythrana studied the queen more closely. Filfaeril looked delicate, with her pale skin and long golden hair. Even the filmy rose-pink dress the queen wore made her seem fragile. But as the envoy looked into Filfaeril's eyes, she caught a glimpse of something-a hardness, perhaps-that worried her. 'Zhentil Keep does not take threats lightly,' Lythrana said at last.
The king leaned on the table with both hands. 'Be assured, Lady Dargor, neither Queen Filfaeril nor I ever make idle threats. We do not like to deal with the worshippers of evil gods, but you are the lesser of two bad options.'
Lythrana stood slowly. 'Zhentil Keep never assumed you would regard us as anything but a 'necessary evil.'' A false, cold smile crossed her face, then she bowed. 'We should end this meeting before either of us says something … regrettable. The papers detailing the treaty will be ready in an hour?'
When King Azoun nodded, Lythrana bowed again and moved toward the door. 'I will send word as to how many troops you can expect and where they will meet you.'
As the echoes of the envoy's retreating footsteps died in the large room, the king put his hands on Filfaeril's shoulders. The queen pursed her lips. 'I don't trust her for a moment,' she noted. 'Still, I suspect the Keep isn't foolish enough to break a truce.'
Azoun smiled weakly. 'They certainly must see that if I can raise an army of thirty thousand to fight a foreign war, the force that would rise against them if they foolishly attacked the Dales would be ten times that size.'
The door slid open, and Vangerdahast briskly crossed the room. He looked expectantly at Azoun, who only nodded.
'The Keep will send troops?' the wizard asked expectantly as he got nearer.
'They haven't said how many yet,' replied Azoun, 'but I'm sure I can get at least fifteen hundred men-at- arms from them.' He squeezed Filfaeril's shoulder and added, 'We should be ready to send the first troops to the east within twenty days.'
