Troy Denning: Beyond the High Road

“Will you join me, Warden?”

Dauneth nodded somewhat uncomfortably. “Whatever the princess wishes.”

Trying not to grind her teeth in frustration, Tanalasta took Dauneth’s arm and led him past the long file of riders to the front of the column. Though her shoulders were draped in a silken cape of royal purple, underneath she wore a sensible traveling smock and a pair of well-worn walking boots, and it was not long before they reached the foot of Worg Pass. She sent the company captain ahead with two scouts and instructed the rest of the company to follow twenty paces behind, but she could not quite make her getaway before Merula the Marvelous came puffing up from behind.

“I trust… the princess will not object to… company,” Merula panted.

“Of course not. Why should she?” asked Owden Foley, appearing from the other side of the horse column. The weatherworn priest winked a crinkled eye at the princess, then looped his hand through Merula’s arm. “My friend, what an excellent idea to join them. We could all do with a nice, brisk walk. Nothing like a stroll to get the heart pumping and keep the fields in water, is there?”

Merula scowled and jerked his arm away. “I thought the princess asked you to attend to the peasants’ fields.”

“And so I am,” Owden replied, digging a good-natured elbow into the wizard’s well-padded ribs. “That’s why one has monks, is it not?”

“I wouldn’t know,” grumbled Merula.

Owden merely grinned and continued to prattle on about the wholesome benefits of mountain sunlight and pine-fresh air. Tanalasta smiled and silently thanked the priest for coming to her rescue. With the Harvestmaster expounding about the benefits of mountain life, Merula would find it impossible to eavesdrop on her conversation-or her thoughts.

Tanalasta led the way up the road at a lively gait. The pass climbed steeply along the flank of a lightly forested mountain, and soon enough the sound of Merula’s hulling breath faded from her hearing-though it was replaced by the somewhat lighter panting of the Warden of the Eastern Marches.

“If I may say so, Princess, you have changed much since…” Dauneth paused, no doubt as much to summon his tact as to catch his breath, then continued, “Since the last time I saw you.”

Tanalasta eyed him levelly. “It’s all right, Dauneth. You can say it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You can say, ‘since Aunadar Bleth made a fool of you,’” Tanalasta said lightly. She continued up the road. “The whole kingdom knows how he tried to marry me and steal the crown. Really, it’s insulting to behave as if I’m the only one unaware of it.”

Dauneth’s face reddened. “You were under a terrible strain. With your father poisoned and-“

“I was a damned ninny. I nearly lost the kingdom, and it was nobody’s fault but my own.” Despite the steep climb, Tanalasta betrayed no sign of fatigue as she spoke. A year at Huthduth had conditioned her to harder work than hiking. “At least I learned that much from Vangerdahast. I swear, I don’t know why he didn’t tell Father to name Alusair crown princess.”

Dauneth cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps because he saw what you would make of the experience.” The Warden grew thoughtful, then added, “Or, since we are speaking frankly, maybe it is because he knows your sister. Can you see Alusair as queen? No noble son would be safe. If she wasn’t getting them killed in a war, she’d be entrapping them in her boudoir.”

Tanalasta let her jaw drop. “Watch your tongue, sir!” Smiling, she cuffed Dauneth lightly on the back. “That’s my baby sister you are maligning.”

“So the crown princess wishes to acknowledge her own weaknesses and remain blind to those of everyone else?” Dauneth shook his head sagely. “This will never do. It runs contrary to the whole spirit of sovereign tradition. Perhaps I should have a talk with old Vangerdahast after all.”

“That will hardly be necessary,” Tanalasta lowered her voice and leaned closer. “All you need do is mention it in front of our companions. I’ve no doubt Vangey knows everything the moment Merula hears it.”

“Really? Dauneth glanced back at the pudgy wizard, who looked almost as weary of climbing as he did of Owden’s nature lecture. “I didn’t realize the royal magician was such a voyeur.”

“That’s just one thing you’d need to accustom yourself to, if…”

Tanalasta let the sentence hang, as reluctant to reveal her condition for giving her hand to Dauneth as she was to commit herself to giving it.

The Warden was too good a military man not to press for an advantage when he saw the opportunity. “If what, milady?”

Tanalasta stopped climbing and turned to face Dauneth, bringing the whole procession of guards and merchants to a clamorous halt. Only Merula and Owden continued to climb, the wizard more eager than ever to eavesdrop, and the priest just as determined to fill his ear with valuable nature lore.

Trying to ignore the fact that she was being watched by a thousand eyes, Tanalasta took Dauneth’s hand and answered his question. “If we are to do what my father and Vangerdahast want us to, but first we must trust each other enough to speak honestly and openly.”

Dauneth’s face grew serious. “I am sure the princess will find me a very honest fellow.”

“Of course. No one can doubt that after the Abraxus Affair, but that’s really not what I meant.”

Noticing that Merula’s huffing was growing audible again, Tanalasta turned up the road and started to climb. They were almost at the summit now. At any moment, she expected to crest Worg Pass and see the bulky towers of High Horn in the distance.

Dauneth clambered to keep up. “So what did you mean, Princess?”

“Tanalasta, please. If you can’t even call me by name “

“I didn’t want to take liberties.” Dauneth’s voice had grown defensive. “You haven’t invited me to.”

“I am inviting you to now.”

“Very well. Then what did you mean, Tanalasta?”

Tanalasta rolled her eyes, wondering how she could say what she meant without making it seem a command, and without sounding like the same ninny who had nearly let Aunadar Bleth steal a kingdom from beneath her nose. The princess had little doubt that Dauneth, raised in the fine tradition of noble families everywhere, would find her wish to marry for love as laughable as Vangerdahast found it. On the other hand, it was she who wanted to speak honestly and openly, and she could hardly demand such a thing of Dauneth if she was unwilling herself. Tanalasta took a deep breath and began.

“First, Dauneth, there must be trust and respect.”

Dauneth’s lips tightened, and Tanalasta saw that she had gotten off to a bad start.

“Oh no, Dauneth! I have the utmost trust and respect for you. Everybody does.” Tanalasta paused, choosing her next words carefully. “What I mean to say is… well, it must be mutual.”

Dauneth frowned. “I do trust you, Prin-er, Tanalasta. Of course I respect you.”

“If that were true, you would not be lying to me now.”

“Milady! I would never lie-“

“Truly?” Tanalasta allowed her voice to grow sharp. “You still respect my judgment after the Abraxus Affair? You would trust the kingdom to the care of someone so easily manipulated?”

Dauneth started to reply automatically, then his eyes lit with sudden comprehension. “I see your point.”

Tanalasta felt a hollow ache in her stomach, which she quickly recognized as the pang of wounded pride-and evidence that Dauneth was listening well. She forced a smile, but could not quite bring herself to take Dauneth’s arm.

“Now you’re being honest. Thank you.”

“I wish I could say it was my pleasure, but it really isn’t. This is truly what you want from me?”