Free Beyond the High Road by Troy Denning

morning, I have heard several wizards refer to your priests as ‘spell-beggars’ and ‘mommy’s boys.’”
    Vangerdahast gave Owden an apologetic nod. “No offense, of course. I’ll have a word with them about such epithets.”
    “Not necessary,” said the harvestmaster, not quite managing to mask the indignity in his voice. “Their jealous-ah-resentment is understandable.”
    Vangerdahast only smiled at what everyone knew to be an intentional slip of the tongue, and Tanalasta began to fear that her mother’s argument had merit. If Owden could not handle Vangerdahast on his best behavior, she shuddered to think of the enmity that would be unleashed when the old guttermouth gave himself free rein.
    Tanalasta addressed herself to the queen. “If the crown must fear the consequences of the War Wizards’ anger, then perhaps they are not as great an asset to the realm as we believe.” She smiled in Vangerdahast’s direction. “I am sure we may be confident of the royal magician’s ability to keep them under control. Really, it would be a shame to let petty politics prevent us from doing what is best for the realm. Vangerdahast himself has pointed out that only the priests of Chauntea can deal with crises such as this.”
    Even on his best behavior, this was a bit too much for Vangerdahast. “That is not quite what I said, young lady. A small crop blight is hardly a crisis for a kingdom like Cormyr.”
    “Nor do we want to make it seem like one,” said Azoun. “Creating a new organization to respond to it is bound to do just that. It could cause a general panic that would lead to hoarding, thievery and profiteering. I’m sorry Tanalasta. You’ll have to announce that Chauntea called Owden and his priests back to Huthduth.”
    “But she hasn’t,” Tanalasta said. “The goddess wouldn’t do such a thing.”
    “It’s no reflection on Owden or Chauntea, or even on your decision to venerate the All Mother,” said Filfaeril. “This simply isn’t the time to establish a royal temple. You shouldn’t have announced it without discussing it with us first, and I’m sure you know that. Trying to force this onus is unforgivable-as unforgivable as Vangey’s attempt to embarrass you into taking a husband before it is too late.”
    “Too late?” Tanalasta fairly shrieked the words, for her mother had touched a tender chord. She turned to Vangerdahast. “So that’s how it is. You would turn my own parents against me to get what you want.”
    Vangerdahast arched his bushy eyebrows, and something like sorrow seemed to flash in his dark eyes. “I am sorry, milady, but I have no idea what you mean.”
    “A marriage for a royal temple. Is that to be the agreement?” Tanalasta looked to her parents. “If a child is the only thing I am permitted to give the realm, then at least let me do that well. Trust me, it would be better to leave my field fallow than to plow it with a man I do not love.”
    Azoun paled and glanced around the stable yard, then, with a few quick nods, signaled the guards to clear it. Filfaeril’s reaction was different. Though her eyes filled with tears, she flashed Tanalasta the same icy glare that had crushed razor-tongued duchesses and iron-willed army marshals.
    “Your father’s decision has nothing to do with anything Vangerdahast may have said.” Filfaeril’s voice cracked, but she stepped closer to her daughter and continued in an even harsher tone. “The king is thinking of Cormyr. It is time for you to stop being so selfish and do the same thing.”
    Vangerdahast’s eyes grew wide. “Your Majesty, you mustn’t.”
    A small wad of cotton appeared in the wizard’s hand, but Filfaeril’s hand was clamped on his wrist before he could speak his incantation.
    “Vangerdahast!” Filfaeril’s tone was threatening. “If you cast that silence spell, even Azoun will not have the power to keep your head on your shoulders.”
    The wad vanished into the wizard’s sleeve.