Crusade - James Lowder [8]
The heavy, earthy smell of pine wafted from the open trunk. Azoun inhaled deeply, soaking in the familiar, comforting scent. He closed his eyes for an instant and let the tension flow from his neck, then his arms, then his back.
When he opened his eyes again, Vangerdahast was looking at him curiously.
"Nervous, Your Highness?"
"This is a very important meeting, Vangy. I can save hundreds, perhaps even thousands of lives if I-sorry, we-can persuade the people to our plans."
"This crusade is your plan, Azoun, not mine."
The king smiled warmly. "I know that you don't think a strike against the khahan is important, Vangy, but you've been invaluable to me in the last tenday. A few of the dalelords are here only from your prompting. I appreciate your aid."
"You're wrong about one thing, Azoun. I do believe that the campaign to stop the Tuigan is necessary. The khahan is a bloodthirsty savage intent on destroying as much as he can in as short a time as possible. The frightening old woman here to represent Rashemen at the meeting convinced me of that."
As Azoun turned to face the wizard, he couldn't hide his surprise. "If you agree that the crusade is necessary, why don't you agree with my plans?"
"Because I don't think you're the right person to lead the armies." The wizard raised his hand before Azoun could respond. "Not that I think you incapable of commanding the troops or making sound decisions… I just don't know if you realize what you're getting into."
A puzzled look replaced the shock on the king's face. "Why help me further my plans at all, Vangy?"
"I am, above all, your servant." The wizard bowed his head formally.
"Not friend?"
Vangerdahast was gathering the scattered stack of letters. He paused and studied the king. "Yes. Friend, too." The wizard fumbled with the stiff papers, then added, "But in the matter of the crusade, I will be of more aid to you as a servant of the crown."
The king strapped on the brightly gilded scabbard. "And why is that?"
"As your obedient subject, I will organize the crusade." The wizard stuffed the papers into a worn leather satchel, considering how to word the rest of his reply. After a moment, he concluded, "As your friend, I'd try to stop you from making what I see as a grave mistake."
Azoun shook his head. "I don't understand how can you separate your allegiances. I can only do what I think is right. And what's right is always right.
The situation shouldn't have any bearing on it."
Anger clouded the wizard's features. He dropped the satchel onto the table, then quickly moved to the king's side and pulled the ceremonial sword from its scabbard. "You've been in battles before, Azoun, but never in a war. Charging into combat by yourself to face an ogre just isn't the same as leading thousands of men onto a battlefield."
The wizard slashed at the air angrily with the ornate weapon. "And you've grown more accustomed to ceremonial blades than real ones, Your Highness."
Azoun was more surprised by the anger in the wizard's voice than his actions. He gently took the saber from his friend's hands and replaced it at his side. "I know far more about warfare than you, Vangy. I've stood against enemies who should have beaten me, creatures that might have killed me with a single, bloody swipe. Perhaps-"
"That was more than twenty years ago," Vangerdahast interrupted. "Look in the mirror. You're not a young man anymore."
The silver-backed, full length mirror that stood in one corner of the room was an expensive rarity in Cormyr, but the king really wasn't concerned with the mirror's pure glass or the intricately wrought wooden frame. What caught Azoun's attention was the middle-aged man he saw reflected in the looking glass. His earth-brown eyes still gazed alertly back at him, but the king saw that the rest of his face and frame was showing the wear of his fifty-three years.
The most noticeable signs of aging visible to the king were the streaks of silver in his brown hair and beard. Azoun had been graying for much of the last twenty years, though, so that wasn't