Beyond the High Road (3 page)

Dauneth’s face grew serious. “I am sure the princess will find me a very honest fellow.”

“Of course. No one can doubt that after the Abraxus Affair, but that’s really not what I meant.”

Noticing that Merula’s huffing was growing audible again, Tanalasta turned up the road and started to climb. They were almost at the summit now. At any moment, she expected to crest Worg Pass and see the bulky towers of High Horn in the distance.

Dauneth clambered to keep up. “So what did you mean, Princess?”

“Tanalasta, please. If you can’t even call me by name

“

“I didn’t want to take liberties.” Dauneth’s voice had grown defensive. “You haven’t invited me to.”

“I am inviting you to now.”

“Very well. Then what did you mean, Tanalasta?”

Tanalasta rolled her eyes, wondering how she could say what she meant without making it seem a command, and without sounding like the same ninny who had nearly let Aunadar Bleth steal a kingdom from beneath her nose. The princess had little doubt that Dauneth, raised in the fine tradition of noble families everywhere, would find her wish to marry for love as laughable as Vangerdahast found it. On the other hand, it was she who wanted to speak honestly and openly, and she could hardly demand such a thing of Dauneth if she was unwilling herself. Tanalasta took a deep breath and began.

“First, Dauneth, there must be trust and respect.”

Dauneth’s lips tightened, and Tanalasta saw that she had gotten off to a bad start.

“Oh no, Dauneth! I have the utmost trust and respect for you. Everybody does.” Tanalasta paused, choosing her next words carefully. “What I mean to say is… well, it must be mutual.”

Dauneth frowned. “I do trust you, Prin-er, Tanalasta. Of course I respect you.”

“If that were true, you would not be lying to me now.”

“Milady! I would never lie-“

“Truly?” Tanalasta allowed her voice to grow sharp. “You still respect my judgment after the Abraxus Affair? You would trust the kingdom to the care of someone so easily manipulated?”

Dauneth started to reply automatically, then his eyes lit with sudden comprehension. “I see your point.”

Tanalasta felt a hollow ache in her stomach, which she quickly recognized as the pang of wounded pride-and evidence that Dauneth was listening well. She forced a smile, but could not quite bring herself to take Dauneth’s arm.

“Now you’re being honest. Thank you.”

“I wish I could say it was my pleasure, but it really isn’t. This is truly what you want from me?”

“It’s a start.”

“A start.” Dauneth sounded somewhat dazed. He plucked at the fabric of her woolen traveling frock. “If I am being honest, would you also like me to tell you that gray really isn’t your color?”

Tanalasta swatted his hand away. “I said honest, not brash!” she chuckled. “After all, I am still a princess, and I expect to be courted.”

Tanalasta bustled down the Family Hall of House Marliir, one hand tugging at her gown’s brandelle straps, the other holding her skirts off the floor. The corridor seemed a mile long, with an endless procession of white pillars supporting its corbeled arches and a hundred oaken doors lining its walls. On the way down from High Heath, she had stopped so often to restore blighted fields that the journey had taken an extra day, and she had arrived just that morning to discover that the ball gown she’d had sent up from Suzail was a size too large. There had been no chance to see to her father’s birthday gift. She could only trust that Harvestmaster Foley had been able to arrange things on his own.

At last, Tanalasta came to a door with two Purple Dragon guards standing outside. They snapped to attention, clicking their feet and bringing their halberds to their shoulders. Tanalasta stopped and raised her arms over her head.

“Anything out of place, gentlemen?” she asked, executing a slow twirl. “Loose threads, anything showing that shouldn’t?”

The guards glanced at each other nervously and said nothing.

“What’s wrong?” Tanalasta looked down. The gown was an amethyst silk with a tapered bodice and a scooped neckline, and she could imagine something peeking out that a modest princess would prefer to keep hidden. “Tell me.”

The youngest guard extended his arm, shifting his halberd to the stand ready position. “Nothing’s wrong, Princess.” The glimmer of a smile flashed across his lips. “You look… well, stunning. I’d be careful about, showing up the queen.”

Tanalasta’s jaw went slack. “What?”

The older guard shifted his halberd to the stand ready, then stammered, “B-beg your pardon, princess. Lundan meant no offense. It’s just that we haven’t seen you in Suzail for quite some time, and a lot has, er, changed.”

“Truly?” Tanalasta broke into a broad smile, then kissed both men on their cheeks. “Chauntea bless you!”

She pulled the ribbon from her brown hair, setting her long tresses free to cascade down her back, then nodded.

The dazed guards opened the drawing room door, and she entered the chamber to find Dauneth Marliir standing at the marble fireplace with her father and Vangerdahast. The three men were deep in conversation, each sipping a glass of spirits and chuckling quietly at some joke that Tanalasta hoped did not concern her tardiness. Surprisingly, Vangerdahast had made a special effort to dress for the occasion. He had combed his long beard into a snowy white mass, and his ample girth was cloaked in an indigo robe with yellow comets’ that actually seemed to streak across the silk. Dauneth wore a gold-trimmed doublet that was a perfect complement to Tanalasta’s amethyst gown-a coincidence she felt certain had not been left to chance. King Azoun wore a linen tunic and velvet cape in the Royal Purple, with Symylazarr the royal Sword of Honor, hanging in its bejeweled scabbard at his side. With stony features and piercing brown eyes, her father looked as handsome as ever-even if the royal beard had a few more gray streaks than a year ago.

“By the Morninglord!” The gasp came not from the fireplace, but from the wall left of the door. “Can that be my Tanalasta?”

The princess turned to see her mother rising from an elegant chair with gold-leafed spindles. Despite the guard’s warning, Tanalasta saw at once that she did not need to worry about upstaging the queen. Wearing a simple violet dress that only served to emphasize her exquisite carriage, Filfaeril was as stunning as ever. With ice-blue eyes, alabaster skin, and hair the color of honey, she always seemed to be the most beautiful woman in the room, even when she was not trying-and today she was trying.

The queen took Tanalasta by the shoulders and studied her. “The mountains agree with you, my dear. Dauneth said you had changed-but he didn’t say how much!”

The princess feigned disappointment. “No? And I had so hoped to smite him with my dusty traveling clothes.” Tanalasta hugged her mother, then whispered, “And speaking of the good warden-what is he doing here? I thought only the family was to gather in the drawing room.”

“Vangerdahast’s idea, I’m afraid.” The queen’s whisper was sympathetic, but she stepped back with a cocked brow. “Is that a problem?”

Tanalasta sighed. “Not really-but I had hoped to have a few words with you and the king. There’s something I must tell-“

“Princess, you look absolutely bewitching!”

Tanalasta looked up to see Dauneth leading her father and Vangerdahast away from the fireplace. Giving up any hope of a private moment, she smiled and presented her hand.

“Thank you, Dauneth, but what did we say about my name?”

The warden blushed and kissed her band. “Forgive me, Tanalasta.”

The approving glances that shot between Vangerdahast and Azoun did not escape Tanalasta’s notice.

She curtsied to her father and said, “I apologize for being tardy, but we made a rather alarming discovery on the way from Huthduth.”

“Yes, yes, Dauneth has told me all about the blighted fields.” Azoun took his daughter’s hand, then gave her a gently reproachful smile. “A princess really shouldn’t trouble herself with such things. That’s why we have wizards, you know.”

“Oh?” Tanalasta looked to Vangerdahast, who was eyeing her up and down, appraising her as a man might a horse. “The royal magician has determined the nature of the problem?”

“The royal magician has more important things to do than watch barley grow,” Vangerdahast replied, “but Merula the Marvelous has assured me that this ‘blight’ is not serious-certainly no reason to keep the king waiting.”

“Merula? What does that wand waver know about farming?” Despite her tone, Tanalasta was secretly relieved. Had the royal magician already discovered the nature of the problem, the value of her gift would have been less apparent. She smiled at her father. “If you want to know what’s happening, you must ask Harvestinaster Foley-“

“As I certainly will,” Azoun interrupted, “if you will be good enough to introduce us-after the party.”

“Of course,” Tanalasta said, secretly delighted. Even for her, it was not easy to arrange an introduction without first winning the consent of the royal magician, and the king’s willingness to meet Owden Foley without Vangerdahast’s approval bode well for her gift.

“I doubt the blight will overrun Cormyr during the celebration,” she conceded. “I do apologize for keeping you waiting.”

The king’s smile broadened. “Are we running late? I really hadn’t noticed-and even if I had, the wait was well worth it.” He turned to Vangerdahast, “Don’t you think so, old wizard?”

The royal magician regarded Tanalasta sourly, then said, “She has lost weight, though I don’t find it healthy for a woman to be so bony

especially not at Tanalasta’s age.”

Filfaeril slapped the wizard’s shoulder. “Vangerdahast! Tanalasta was hardly large when she left.”

“There’s no need to defend me, Mother,” Tanalasta said. She forced a smile and patted the wizard lightly on his ample belly. “Vangey and I understand each other, don’t we, Your Portliness?”

Vangerdahast eyes widened. “I see you have gained in cheek what you have lost from other places. If you will excuse me, I have an important matter to attend to.”

The wizard retreated across the room to sprawl on a burgundy settee, where he put his head back and closed his eyes. Filfaeril smiled approvingly, but the expression on Azoun’s face was more pained.

“I wish you wouldn’t antagonize him, Tanalasta. He is going to be your-“

“My Royal Magician

I know.” Tanalasta took a deep breath, then launched into a prepared response. “While it would behoove us all to remember that it is the magician who serves the crown and not the reverse, there is no need to lecture me on Vangerdahast’s virtues. My regard for him is as deep as your own-even if I no longer choose to quietly abide his slights.”

The king raised his brow, but Tanalasta took heart from the surprised twinkle in her mother’s eye and refused to back down. After the Abraxus Affair, she and Vangerdahast had spent a few months traveling together, and the ordeal had been enough to convince the princess she could no longer allow the royal magician to intimidate her. While he had helped her learn the ways of the world and forget her humiliation at the hands of Aunadar Bleth, he had also attempted to dampen her emerging interest in Chauntea and steer her down ‘more appropriate’ paths of inquiry. The trip had finally come to a bad end when the princess rebelled and declared her decision to enter the House of Huthduth. She could only imagine what Vangerdahast had told her parents about the decision, but she felt certain he had been less than candid about his own part in the events that caused it.

At last, the king laid a hand on Tanalasta’s shoulder. “I see you have found some iron in those mountains,” he said. “That is good, but if you wish to make a fist of it, you mustn’t forget the velvet that covers it.”

Tanalasta tipped her head, deciding it wiser not to put the king into a bad mood by protesting such a gentle rebuke. “I will bear your advice in mind, Father.”

“Good.” The king smiled, then led her toward the settee, where Vangerdahast still sat with his head back and eyes closed. “Now let’s see if we can locate your sister and get this party underway.”

The mage lifted his head. “We’ll have to start without Alusair, I’m afraid.”

“Start without her?” demanded Filfaeril. The queen narrowed her pale eyes. “Where is she?”

“I-er-I don’t know, exactly.” His face reddening, Vangerdahast hefted himself off the settee. “Still in the Stonelands, perhaps. I have just contacted her, but all she said was ‘not now, Old Snoop.’”

“Then go get her! We decided to have the king’s party in Arabel so-“Filfaeril caught herself and glanced in Dauneth’s direction, then began again, “When we decided to accept Raynaar Marliir’s kind invitation to host the celebration, it was to make it easier for both our daughters to attend.”

“So it was, Majesty” Vangerdahast said, inclining his head, “but I am afraid Alusair has removed her ring again.”

Tanalasta saw Dauneth’s eyes flick to the signet rings on the hand of each royal.

“I have a thirst, Dauneth.” She took the warden’s arm and directed him toward the door. ‘Would you fetch me a sherry?”

“You needn’t send him away, Tanalasta.” The king toyed briefly with his signet ring, then continued, “I think we can trust Dauneth with our little secret. Besides, the warden knows more about this situation than you do.”

As if to prove the king correct, Dauneth turned to Tanalasta and said, “Emperel is missing.”

“Missing?” Tanalasta asked, feeling slighted that the king had not seen fit to send word of this to her in Huthduth. Emperel was the confidential guardian of the “Sleeping Sword,” a secret company of brave young lords put into magical hibernation as a precaution against an ancient prophecy forecasting Cormyr’s destruction. That the king trusted Dauneth with this covert knowledge was a sign of his confidence in the man, and also of his faith that the good warden would one day be his son-in-law. “What happened?”

“That is what Alusair went to find out,” said Azoun. He turned to Vangerdahast. “Should we be concerned about her?”

“Of course!” the wizard snapped. “The girl will never learn. You know how many times I have told her not to remove her ring. What if it was an important matter?”