Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [61]
"No!"
"Yes! Locked her in a coach and spirited her away by night, into seclusion clear up in quaint little Eveningstar, at a temple there called the Spires of the Morning or something like that. They say she won't recover, so there's no thought of the Dragon Queen ruling on alone, even if such a thing were possible. The crown goes to one Obarskyr-born. Marriage grants you a title but not the throne."
"All the worse for poor, poor Tanalasta." Blaerla sighed. "What are the nobles here at court saying? They won't let us in the palace speak to them, you know!"
"Ah, that's the master hand of the Royal Magician at work! Always trying to run things, that one-spells enough to turn the realm upside down apparently aren't enough for some people! He's got them in a proper frolic at court, you know. The old nobles are furious that anyone's doing anything until Azoun's actually dead, of course. The older patriarchs insist that the king will recover and that we do blasphemous treason if we prepare for, or talk about, anything else! Yet I notice not a few of them have sent their sons home to their estates and mustered all the family armsmen-and all the swords they can hire in Marsember-around them!"
"I thought the lower orders would be crying out for Alusair to come riding in and take the throne," Blaerla said thoughtfully. "They love her, you know."
"All Cormyr loves our Mithril Princess-but wouldn't living under her rule be like trying to hold the leash of an angry dog when it sees foes on all sides? And she did vanish off north just when her country needed her most!"
Darlutheene's closing sniff consigned Alusair to the no-longer-need-be-discussed category, and Blaerla abandoned championing her absent royal mistress in favor of a sigh and a murmured, "So I suppose it's to be Tanalasta-with all the court nobles hungry to see her on the throne, so that they can tell her what to do."
"Of course! There're even some of them who want Filfaeril to rule alone, even if she's barking mad, so that they can speak for her and do just as they please with the realm."
Blaerla rolled her eyes. "Is there anyone else seeking the throne?"
Darlutheene laughed heartily, spraying raspberry cordial all over the table and herself. "Of course, my dear. All the timid mice among both merchants and nobles are skulking about the corridors, suggesting that it's time to install a merchant-or a noble, depending on whose tongue is flapping-council to run the kingdom and put whatever powerless puppy seems most convenient on the throne. One man with little taste and less sense than most actually suggested having Azoun's corpse stuffed and putting it on the throne to entertain the flies, while everyone else got on with the task of running Cormyr!"
"Gods above!" Blaerla was scandalized. "It'd be just like the regency all over again! If there isn't one crowned head to spew the orders, everyone spends his time looking over his shoulder in fear, or burying daggers in the bellies of rivals, and nothing good gets done!"
"And that," Darlutheene said triumphantly, "is where our favorite fat old mage comes in. Vangerdahast, the Lord High Court Wizard, Royal Magician, and Chamber-pot Watcher, is being friendly with all of the factions, whispering this here and that there, egging them all on to each others' throats! Whenever anyone accuses him of double-dealing or speaking falsely, he goes all grim and grand and talks about 'doing what he must for the safety of the realm.' You should hear him!"
"What does he truly want, I wonder?" Blaerla mused, suddenly very serious. The palace was all too uncomfortably close to be ruled by madmen, or feuding butcherers or mad wizards. "He could be the most dangerous man in the kingdom."
"He is the most dangerous man in the kingdom, dear," said Darlutheene darkly,