Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [189]
"I still don't see why we can't tell anybody who we are," Azoun complained, shaking his left boot while on a rest break. A single small pebble that had pained his footsteps for the past quarter of a mile dropped out.
"Two reasons. The first is safety. I shouldn't have to remind you that we're far from war wizards and Purple Dragon guards and the relative safety of home. I can aid and protect, but I cannot be all-wise or all-vigilant, so our best protection is secrecy. Enemies of the crown think the Obarskyrs cling to their castles and high society. We should do nothing to dissuade them from that view."
The young prince waved away the explanation. That one he understood. The elder mage was certainly being a mother hen about the dangers abroad in the kingdom, but at least Vangerdahast now let him journey forth from the castle for these little forays.
"Secondly, when you wear a crown, the rest of the world is transformed. People tend to tell you what they wish you to hear, as opposed to what you need to know. Truths are shaded, identities are hidden, and facts are concealed. Would any troubadour dare teach his king the racy lyrics of 'The Cormyte's Boast'?"
This was the argument Azoun was prepared for. "So what you're saying," he said sharply, "is that the king has to seem something other than he is in order to get to the truth? That he has to deceive his own people?"
"I am saying that no one is what he seems," said the portly mage, "and the king should recognize that fact and plan accordingly. That young waitress at the inn, for example."
Azoun blinked. "What of her?"
"I noticed she was rather cold and aloof to you last night. Obviously the situation had changed by this morning. I trust you did not, by any chance, happen to let slip that you were more than Balm the Cavalier last night after I retired?"
Azoun reddened slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps I did. I can't remember." He straightened his shoulders and added, "We were drinking parsnip wine," as if that explained everything.
"Ah, but that's exactly the point. We are travelling Cormyr on foot, not for my health nor for yours, but to understand both the land and the people. And even the most good-hearted may not be what they seem, and even the coldest may warm to the glow of the royal crown."
They traveled for another two hours in the bright forest of morning, breaking once for another boots-off rest and once for an early, dry lunch. Vangerdahast lectured on the history of Eveningstar and the monster-haunted halls that reached through the gorge north of the village. This region had been his own playground back when he was a boy. It was here, he would point out, that he'd first decided to become a wizard, and there, he would note, that he was later taken on by Jorunhast, the last Royal Magician of the Court.
"I haven't heard much about Jorunhast," said Azoun, "save that he backed the wrong side during the reign of Salember, the Rebel Prince."
"That and more," said Vangerdahast. "Actually, he killed Salember when the Rebel Prince threatened to kill your father and your grandmother Truesilver. Then your father thanked the mage and banished Jorunhast from the court. Cormyr was without an official mage until your elder sister was born, and I was sent for to act as her tutor, and yours as well. However, King Rhigaerd has withheld the official title of Royal Magician from me, as is his right."
"Yet if your teacher saved my father…" began the prince.
"Jorunhast killed a king," said Vangerdahast. "A bad king, but a king nonetheless. I think your father was worried it might become a habit. And there are lessons here."
"Such as?"
Vangerdahast sighed. "Returning to Suzail twenty years after Jorunhast left, I saw that the kingdom had survived being officially wizardless quite nicely. Thirteen centuries of careful and not-so-careful building