The cleric held the parchment out to Dimswart, who had returned to his seat at the chessboard. The sage waved the letter away. 'Torg has offered troops to support the crusade. You could see it in Azoun's face as he read the note.' Dimswart picked up the white king from the chessboard and looked at it intently. 'Those of us who think the crusade is a good idea can only hope now that the other kings and lords will follow Torg's lead.'
Vangerdahast sighed. 'Azoun is a very, very persuasive man. The leaders of Faerun will do as he suggests.'
As one, Dimswart and Winefiddle looked to the royal magician. Vangerdahast stood at the window Azoun had occupied earlier, looking out over Suzail. 'The question is no longer 'will Azoun lead the crusade against the Tuigan?'' The mage turned to face the king's two friends, who both saw the sadness in his eyes.
'Suzail will pay dearly for this. Azoun simply doesn't know what a real war takes out of a people.' The mage breathed another ragged sigh and turned back to the window. 'And he's underestimating the opposition of the trappers.
'No,' he stated after a moment, 'the crusade will go on. The question to be asked now is, can Azoun pay the price for fighting this war?'
2
Initially at least, King Azoun had far more trouble recruiting support for the crusade than Vangerdahast had predicted in the tower on that day. It wasn't that the monarch's persuasive powers were less than the royal wizard claimed. In fact, Azoun and his wife, Queen Filfaeril, had spent much of the winter speaking to their nobles and their neighbors; most of the rulers considered a preemptive attack on the Tuigan vital to preserving their countries, their cultures, and, most importantly, their treasuries.
In politics, however, rhetorical support and actual support sometimes have little in common. As the time for action grew near, few of the statesmen who seemed eager to lend troops to Azoun followed through on their promises. The source of this change of heart could be traced to a simple fear of popular unrest.
As in Cormyr, certain guilds throughout the Heartlands opposed any proposed crusade. Guilds were an important part of commerce and even everyday life in Faerun. Each trade, whether it be thieving, forestry, or smithing, had its own guild, and to become a lawful, certified member in any profession meant joining the appropriate organization. In this way, guilds insured that standards be met in the production of crafts and prices remained reasonable. The guilds also represented their members before governments, provided retirement funds, and even took care of members' widows and orphans.
Not all guilds stood against the proposed crusade. The armorers, fletchers, bowyers, and swordsmiths all stood to gain from the war. Even the teamsters and shipwrights knew that they would see an immediate profit from the expedition against the Tuigan. The merchants who stood to garner little from the conflict-the trappers who worked the Heartlands' wildernesses; the tanners who made leather from animal hides; even the butchers, who would lose business since the army would kill and dress its own meat knew only that higher taxes would come their way.
To counter the fear of guild opposition to the crusade, Azoun held conferences with those lords he could visit personally and dealt through messengers and magical communications with those located farther away. He encouraged the leaders to put the Tuigan matter before their people, allowing them to comment on the proposed crusade outside the restrictions of guild politics. Surprisingly, it was only a vocal minority that opposed the venture; most of the people supported a peremptory strike against the barbarians.
By weakening the nobles' fear of popular unrest, Azoun won back most of the troops committed to him during the winter. With the promise of strong dwarven support, the king won a few more tentative troop commitments. His charisma won still others. Finally, after a seemingly endless parade of small conferences, King Azoun called together all the leaders who he felt might support his cause.
'If I can persuade the Dales and Sembia to give me troops,' the king said as he straightened his ornate ceremonial tunic, 'I will stop the khahan before he breaks out of Thesk.' He paused. 'I do wish the queen could attend the meeting today. But… other matters of state demand at least one of us be present in the royal court.'
Vangerdahast, sitting at a table covered with various parchment notes, nodded absently. 'Don't forget to remind them of the dwarven support Ironlord Torg promised.' The wizard rubbed his eyes slowly and put down the letter he was reading. 'The Lords of Waterdeep send their regards.'
Azoun froze. 'They're not dispatching a representative to the meeting?' His sharp tone was muffled by the carpets and tapestries that covered the cold stone walls of the study.
'Far too busy running the 'City of Splendors.' ' Vangerdahast shook his head. 'No. That's not quite fair. They note here-' He picked up the parchment again.' 'Though we recognize the importance of quelling the Tuigan incursion, we do not feel that it would be prudent for us to commit any of our forces at this time.''
'I don't really blame them,' the king sighed. 'They lost a sizable part of their city guard during the Godswar.'
The wizard nodded. 'If Cormyr had been attacked by a troop of creatures from the Realm of the Dead, horsemen eating up territory on the other side of the continent wouldn't be our priority right now, either.'
' 'The gods save men from some disasters only to thrust them into the middle of others.' ' The king opened a dark wooden chest and took out a ceremonial sword. 'Isn't that how the old saying goes?'
The heavy, earthy smell of pine wafted from the open trunk. Azoun inhaled deeply, soaking in the familiar, comforting scent. He closed his eyes for an instant and let the tension flow from his neck, then his arms, then his back. When he opened his eyes again, Vangerdahast was looking at him curiously.
'Nervous, Your Highness?'
'This is a very important meeting, Vangy. I can save hundreds, perhaps even thousands of lives if I-sorry, we-can persuade the people to our plans.'
'This crusade is your plan, Azoun, not mine.'
The king smiled warmly. 'I know that you don't think a strike against the khahan is important, Vangy, but you've been invaluable to me in the last tenday. A few of the dalelords are here only from your prompting. I appreciate your aid.'
'You're wrong about one thing, Azoun. I do believe that the campaign to stop the Tuigan is necessary. The khahan is a bloodthirsty savage intent on destroying as much as he can in as short a time as possible. The frightening old woman here to represent Rashemen at the meeting convinced me of that.'
As Azoun turned to face the wizard, he couldn't hide his surprise. 'If you agree that the crusade is necessary, why don't you agree with my plans?'
'Because I don't think you're the right person to lead the armies.' The wizard raised his hand before Azoun could respond. 'Not that I think you incapable of commanding the troops or making sound decisions… I just don't know if you realize what you're getting into.'
A puzzled look replaced the shock on the king's face. 'Why help me further my plans at all, Vangy?'
'I am, above all, your servant.' The wizard bowed his head formally.
'Not friend?'
Vangerdahast was gathering the scattered stack of letters. He paused and studied the king. 'Yes. Friend, too.' The wizard fumbled with the stiff papers, then added, 'But in the matter of the crusade, I will be of more aid to you as a servant of the crown.'
The king strapped on the brightly gilded scabbard. 'And why is that?'
'As your obedient subject, I will organize the crusade.' The wizard stuffed the papers into a worn leather satchel, considering how to word the rest of his reply. After a moment, he concluded, 'As your friend, I'd try to stop you from making what I see as a grave mistake.'
Azoun shook his head. 'I don't understand how can you separate your allegiances. I can only do what I think is right. And what's right is always right. The situation shouldn't have any bearing on it.'
Anger clouded the wizard's features. He dropped the satchel onto the table, then quickly moved to the king's
