“If the blight takes half the fields in the realm, perhaps they would be heroes,” said Azoun. “It would certainly mean we have not been seeing to our duties, Lord Warden. Besides, Owden and his priests are not the only ones who have seen the blight-spreader.”
“Indeed-the peasants see the fellow everywhere,” said Dauneth. “In Bospir, they burned another tinker at the stake this morning-and he wasn’t even tall. This one just happened to be wearing a black cloak when a free farmer saw him doing his business by the side of the road.”
Azoun winced. That was the seventh lynching he had heard of in the last three days, and the rate seemed to be increasing. Perhaps he should have listened to Dauneth two days ago and sent a squad of war wizards to track down the “Badgeless Maces” then, but he had not wanted to embarrass Tanalasta by returning her friends to Arabel in shackles. Moreover, he had regarded Dauneth’s motives as somewhat suspect, fearing the young lord had made the suggestion out of anger at Tanalasta.
Of course, Azoun should have known better. The High Warden was too loyal to let his personal feelings interfere with duty. The priests had indeed created the panic Dauneth feared, and now innocent people were being killed. The king was almost relieved to find his own judgment in this matter less sound than that of the High Warden, it suggested that Dauneth was not holding a grudge, and the throne had need of a loyal warden in Arabel. Once they brought Owden Foley and the “Badgeless Maces” under control, perhaps Azoun could even declare the damage wrought by Tanalasta undone.
The red-eyed beggar lurched past Azoun’s hiding place and disappeared into the trees at the rear of the small clearing, the Badgeless Maces close behind. A row of Purple Dragons emerged from the trees to meet the company of priests. The dragoneers wore their visors raised and held their lances posted on their stirrup rests, but their grim expressions left no doubt that they were present on a serious matter. The Badgeless Maces hauled back on their reins, barely managing to bring their mounts to a stop before the dragoneers.
As confused as they were, the priests remained determined to capture their quarry. A handful tried to ease through the Purple Dragons only to find their way blocked by a lowered lance. Several more wheeled around to circle the line, only to find another row of dragoneers emerging from the trees to block their way. Even then, it did not seem to occur to the priests that this was anything more than a chance meeting.
“What are you doing?” Owden gestured into the woods where the tall beggar had disappeared. “After that man! He’s a danger to the land!”
“Hardly.” Merula the Marvelous stepped out of the wood, his eyes still glowing red and the hood of his black cloak now pulled down on his collar “I am not the one riding about the north, scaring witless peasants half-to-death with tales of dark phantoms and impending famine.”
Owden’s shoulders slumped, then he lowered his mace and fixed his gaze on the portly wizard. “Merula the Massive? Explain yourself! You’re interfering with a royal commission charged with a matter of the highest urgency.”
“Really?” Azoun urged his horse out of his hiding place behind the priests, bringing with him Dauneth Marliir and the final rank of Purple Dragons. “Strange, I do not recall commissioning a company of ‘Badgeless Maces’ into the Purple Dragons.”
The entire band of priests wheeled at once, their faces paling at the sight of Azoun’s battle-crowned helm.
“Majesty!”
Owden swung out of his saddle, then knelt on the ground and bowed his head. His priests followed half a step behind, moving so quickly that several overcautious dragoneers lowered their lances.
Azoun motioned the lances up again, then continued to look at Owden and his priests. “In fact, I don’t recall commissioning any company of priests at all, nor charging them with…” He looked to Dauneth. “What was the phrase, Lord Warden?”
“I believe it was ‘A matter of the highest urgency,’ Sire.”
“Ah yes.” Azoun repeated the phrase as though trying to refresh his memory then shook his head. “No, I’m quite certain I never said such a thing.”
Owden dared to raise his head. “Forgive my presumption, Majesty, but we, ah, assumed the title.”
“Assumed, Harvestmaster Owden?” asked Merula. He stepped to Owden’s side, then glanced in Dauneth’s direction. “That would make you an imposter, you know. It would make you all impostors.”
The king bit his tongue, trying desperately to hide a sudden surge of anger. Merula was doing his best to place Owden in the untenable position of confessing to the impersonation of a royal agent, or admitting that Tanalasta had defied the king’s order. Apparently, the wizard remained concerned about the War Wizards’ future after Tanalasta took the throne-this despite Azoun’s personal guarantee that their position would be secure no matter who succeeded him.
“Perhaps it was Princess Tanalasta who commissioned you, Harvestmaster?” Merula continued to look at Dauneth.
Azoun forced himself to keep an impassive face and stay silent. The matter fell under the purview of the Lord High Warden, and any interference from the king would be taken either as a sign of favor to the priests, or as a lack of confidence in the crown princess’s obedience to duty.
“I am sorry to say that Princess Tanalasta did not commission us.” Owden addressed himself directly to Azoun. “You see, Sire, it was something of an emergency. We happened across a free farmer who had seen the blight-bearer-“
“This tall beggar you have been asking about,” said Azoun, happy for any pretext to take control of the conversation. “You know, of course, that your inquiries have created a panic.”
“I apologize, Majesty,” Owden said, plucking at his purple cape, “but that is the reason for our disguises. We had hoped the inquiries of a company of Purple Dragons would seem less conspicuous.”
“And well they might have, if you had acted like a company of soldiers,” said Azoun. “In pausing to repair every blighted field you happened across, you persuaded everyone you met that I am so concerned about the situation that I have begun commissioning whole companies of priests.”
“It may come to that yet, Majesty,” said Owden.
“I’m sure you hope it will,” said Dauneth, “but I won’t have you causing a panic in these lands simply to promote yourselves. The peasants are already burning each others’ fields at the first sign of a wilt, and seven men have been murdered for the crime of matching your beggar’s description.”
Owden’s face fell at the news, but he kept his gaze fixed on Azoun. “I am sorry to have caused this trouble, Majesty, but it changes nothing. We must find this blight-carrier and stop him from wandering about. Until we do that, we must keep restoring the fields he infects and prevent the disease from spreading on its own.”
“I am sure he’ll be found soon,” said Azoun. “Every company of Purple Dragons north of the High Road is watching for him. Nor do I think there is much chance of the blight spreading on its own-not with the peasants burning their fields at the first sign of a brown leaf.”
“That will help certainly, but we are much practiced in these matters,” said Owden. “You must let us continue our search-if not as Purple Dragons, then as humble clerics.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” said Dauneth.
Owden finally directed his attention to the High Warden. “You’re arresting us?”
‘The Lord High Warden has no choice,” said Merula, smirking. “Impersonating a royal agent is a high crime, punishable by death.”
“By death?” This from one of Owden’s priests, a young red-haired woman no more than twenty. “We were only trying to help!”
Merula gave the woman a crocodile’s smile. “I’m sorry, but unless Princess Tanalasta commissioned you-“
“She didn’t,” said Owden. He shot the woman a warning scowl, then rose and stepped toward Dauneth. “Do with us what you must, Lord Warden, but I pray you, do not let this dark beggar wander these lands long. The blight may seem a little enough thing now, but that is only because we have contained it.”