Crusade - James Lowder [5]
The prince had no trouble keeping Balin's true identity a secret from the world at large. Few people knew what Azoun looked like, and even fewer expected him to be roaming the countryside with a troupe of minor adventurers. After two or three months, though, the young cavalier revealed his identity to the group. Dimswart had uncovered the prince's secret after their first adventure together, proving himself to be a noteworthy sleuth even then.
Winefiddle and the others were astounded at the revelation. This information changed little, however, as the King's Men were more interested in saving damsels from ogres than getting mixed up in Cormyrian politics.
And that went double for Azoun himself. Riding with Dimswart, Winefiddle, and the three other members of the group gave the prince a chance to escape the pressures of life in the castle. Vangerdahast covered for Azoun whenever possible, telling King Rhigaerd that his son was on an expedition to a distant shrine or library. Frequently the royal tutor would furnish an excuse to the king, then go hunting for the boy himself. He often found the would-be heroes in dire straits.
"Remember the time we stumbled upon that goblin camp in the mountains near High Horn," Azoun said with a chuckle. "They were sure we were spies"
"And then they decided that Winefiddle was a cleric of some terrible, evil elemental god," Dimswart added, smirking at the rotund curate. "Just because a rock tumbled off a cliff and hit one of them as it tried to grab him."
Winefiddle frowned weakly. "You're both lucky they thought that, too. The beasts made short work of both of you before they tried to grab me. Those horrible little things were ready to kill us all." He rubbed his stomach. "I still have a scar where one of them prodded me with a spear."
The cleric paused, toying with the plain silver disk that hung around his neck. Talking about danger or even discomfort made Winefiddle nervous. He, for one, did not miss his life as an adventurer. "And if Vangerdahast hadn't come along when he did," the curate added, "they might have killed us anyway. I was getting tired of acting like an elemental lord."
The royal wizard nodded slowly as a reply, then sat down at the chessboard, across from the gray-haired sage. "The curate's right, you know.
You're all very lucky not to have been eaten by any one of those monsters you pestered."
The comment stung Azoun like the flick of a whip. "We did far more than 'pester' creatures, Vangy," he said hotly. "The King's Men did some good in the short time they were around."
The king paused, as if daring someone to disagree. He knew that none of his friends would think of it, however. "What about that caravan we saved from the hill giants in the mountains west of here? Or the children we rescued from the zombies that raided that farm outside of Tyrluk?"
"They were fine adventures, Azoun, weren't they?" the royal magician stated more than asked.
King Azoun recognized the wizard's bait and responded to Vangerdahast's real question. "They were, Vangy… but I don't think the crusade will be an adventure at all, and that's certainly not why I'm organizing it."
"Are you so sure of that?" the wizard asked softly.
Azoun did not answer, and resumed pacing instead. Vangerdahast sat, drumming his fingers on the chessboard, while Dimswart and Winefiddle exchanged concerned glances.
Then the curate's eyes grew wide, and he leaped out of his seat. "The message!" he cried. "I almost forgot about it!"
Winefiddle noisily dug through his sack. "One of the pages gave it to me when he saw that I was coming to see you up in the tower." Wine bottles clinked together, papers and scrolls rustled, and loose coins clattered against everything else in the rough brown bag. "Here it is!" he exclaimed at last.
The parchment Winefiddle held aloft was crumpled slightly, but Azoun could see that it was an important message even from across the room. Bold black and red ribbons, secured by a thick wax seal, dangled from the paper.
Vangerdahast abruptly