Crusade - James Lowder [32]
"My apologies for intruding, Azoun," Vangerdahast said softly as he closed the gilt door. "How was your rest?"
"I feel fine, Vangy." He moved restlessly to the window and added wryly,
"Until I saw your expression just now, I almost suspected you of casting a spell to restore me."
"Not against your wishes," the wizard said, coming to the king's side.
"No, I really didn't think so."
Noting an irritability in the king's voice, Vangerdahast decided to tread carefully with his questions. It was obvious Azoun had slept little. "Are you ready to meet with the Zhentish envoy?"
The king chuckled a humorless laugh and pushed himself away from the window. "I must be," he said firmly. "I can't let madmen or intractable dalesmen or anything else get in the way of this crusade. I must be ready."
Without waiting for a reply, the king spun on his heels and headed out into the hall. The wizard trailed behind him, making mental notes of the orders the king snapped off. Finally, Azoun reached his study. Before he opened the door, he noted that a sizable reward should be sent to the man who'd captured Bors in the crowd and that the would-be assassin's trial should be convened immediately.
"He'll almost certainly be put to death," Vangerdahast replied, watching the king's eyes for a reaction.
Azoun's expression, a mixture of cold resolve and vague distraction, didn't change. "If he hadn't killed those people it might have been different. I have to uphold the law. I want the masters of the Trappers' Guild called to court, too.
They have much to answer for."
Vangerdahast hesitated before he replied. Anger, not just irritability, had a hold upon the Cormyrian king, the wizard realized. It was very much unlike Azoun to act that way, but, then, the last few days had been unusual themselves.
"Perhaps I should reschedule the meeting with the Zhentish envoy,"
Vangerdahast ventured, hoping that his friend might recognize the cause for the suggestion.
Azoun's forehead furrowed deeply as he narrowed his eyes and glared at the wizard. That expression was only temporary. The dark look on the king's face passed as quickly as a lone storm cloud on a bright summer's afternoon.
Vangerdahast silently breathed a sigh of relief.
"That won't be necessary," Azoun noted, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Besides, if I don't convince the dalesmen that we can leave in the next tenday or so, the Tuigan will conquer most of Thesk. At that point, we might as well do as Lord Mourngrym suggests and wait for the barbarians to show up on our doorstep."
Vangerdahast sighed and hoped that the king could shake off his concerns long enough to parley with the envoy that afternoon. "Should I bring our Zhentish visitor here when he arrives?" the wizard asked as he turned to leave.
"No," Azoun replied. He opened the study's door. "I want to skim a book or two and clear my mind. Bring the envoy to the throne room."
Vangerdahast raised an eyebrow. "You don't usually meet mere envoys there, Your Highness."
The king smiled-a little wickedly, Vangerdahast noted with mild surpriseand said, "No doubt the ambassador will know that and expect a more casual greeting. I think it wise to keep him off balance, don't you?"
The royal wizard returned the king's smile, though his was undoubtedly tinged with a mischievous malice. "Of course, Your Highness," he said.
Vangerdahast bowed, then hurried down the hall, his concern for Azoun lessening as he pondered the king's strategy.
Azoun quietly entered the study and sat at his desk. First, he scribbled a note to Torg, the dwarven king of Earthfast, informing him of the crusade's status. That done, the king opened the large, leather-bound book that lay on the desk. For a short time, he read and reread the passages describing the "black days"