Raymond Feist - Flight of the Night Hawks

‘Rumours are wonderful things, when employed correctly,’ said Rosenvar. His voice tended to rumble as if it started somewhere deep within his bowels and slowly worked its way up through his throat. ‘I’ve seen entire cities turned on their collective ear by the right rumour, Pug. Rulers distrust official reports and credible witnesses, but a juicy rumour … ah, that’ll set them running around like turkeys in a storm, heads turned upwards with mouths agape, trying to drown themselves in the downpour.’

Pug chuckled. He enjoyed Rosenvar’s turns of phrase. ‘Very well, but what rumours?’

Rosenvar lost his smile. ‘Word is Duke Erik is ill, perhaps dying, in Krondor.’

Pug nodded. ‘So I have heard.’

Miranda said, ‘He is the last.’

Pug knew what she meant. He was the last survivor of Calis’ company of ‘Desperate Men’, those prisoners given their freedom in exchange for making the journey down to Novindus at the start of the Serpentwar, and the only man of rank still serving who had survived the conflict. Erik knew what distant dangers could mean. ‘Then we start in Krondor?’

‘It seems wise,’ said Rosenvar. ‘There are a couple of rumourmongers who have various highly placed officials of the Western Realm among their clients. If we start something vague enough to not cause an immediate response, but something familiar enough to Lord Erik that he’ll feel obliged to warn the Prince of Krondor … well, it’s a start.’

Magnus said, ‘And if the Kingdom of the Isles takes the warning seriously, so will Great Kesh.’

‘And if Great Kesh and the Kingdom start to marshal their defences, so shall every other kingdom in their vicinity,’ added Miranda.

‘But we can only hold them alert for so long; we must not rush this,’ said Rosenvar.

Pug said, ‘We need Erik around long enough to make this work.’

Nakor said, ‘I’ll go to Krondor and visit the Duke. I’ll make him well for a while.’

Pug nodded. Nakor had travelled with Erik, Calis on the journey to Novindus when they first encountered the Emerald Queen. The old duke would trust Nakor.

Pug said, ‘Rosenvar, I need you to coordinate what rumours to start, where, and when. We have some well-placed agents in nearly every capital of importance on Midkemia. But I want to ensure it’s a gradual discomfort and concern, not instant blind panic.’

‘Understood,’ he replied, standing. ‘We’ll draw up a list of ideas to put the rulers of the world on edge.’ He smiled slightly. ‘ Slightly on edge.’

To Uskavan, Pug said, ‘If you would, I’d like the names of your very best students. We may need to dispatch them to work in the field soon.’

The alien magician nodded, rose, and departed with Rosenvar, leaving Pug, Miranda, Nakor, and Magnus alone in the cave. Pug looked at his older son and said, ‘Where’s your brother?’

‘Down in Stardock, I believe. He should be delivering some supplies, but no doubt he lingered for the festival.’

Miranda said, ‘Lingered to spend time with that widow, you mean.’

Pug shrugged. ‘Let him grab whatever joy he can, beloved. We don’t need him back here for anything special, and I expect he’s enjoying himself.’

Magnus looked at his mother and asked, ‘Shall I find him, or return to Kelewan?’

Miranda glanced at her husband. ‘Which?’

‘Neither. Go to Novindus and continue Nakor’s work on the Talony. The Great Ones of the Assembly of Tsuranuanni can muddle along without you for a while. When Nakor returns from Krondor, I’ll send him back to you and you can go back to Kelewan.’

Nakor smiled. ‘Don’t break anything before I get there.’

Magnus glanced with a wry smile at the little gambler, nodded, reached inside his robe and pulled out a golden orb. He clicked a switch and suddenly vanished.

Miranda came to stand behind her husband and put her arms around him. ‘You’re worried.’

‘I’m always worried,’ said Pug.

‘No, this is something more.’ She studied her husband’s face. ‘You sense something?’

Nakor said, ‘I think I know what you’re going to tell her. I will go to Krondor and see that Duke Erik stays alive long enough to help us.’ He glanced at Pug and Miranda and said, ‘You two really do need to talk to each other more often. Really,’ he repeated, picking up his rucksack and staff, then vanishing from before their eyes.

Pug closed his eyes a long moment, then answered his wife’s question. ‘Yes, I do sense something. And it’s growing. I don’t know what to call it, but it feels more … intense than mere foreboding.’

‘A premonition?’

‘The dream troubles me, love. I think something is approaching and when it emerges, the struggle will be more fearful than anything we could ever imagine.’

‘Given what we have seen, husband, that’s quite a lot.’

‘Once, during the time of the Great Uprising, Tomas and I faced a Master of the Dread. We bested the creature, though it took all of our magic and no little guile. Then at the end, in Sethanon, I beheld a Dreadlord – a Greater Dragon, with all her magic and might, could barely contain it.’

‘But the Dread come from one of the lower planes, while these Dasati are from the second. Surely they are only slightly more dangerous than men?’

Pug held his wife’s hand. ‘You know more than I do on many subjects, Miranda, but scholarship has never been your first love.’ She furrowed her brow but said nothing, acknowledging the truth in his words.

He sighed and lowered his voice. ‘It’s the nature of beings from the lower levels of creation to absorb the life force from those from the higher. Think of it as water running downhill; just the touch of a Dasati would cause damage after only a few moments.

‘The Dread are the most fearful beings able to reach this level of reality and survive; creatures from the depths below them draw so much energy to themselves so fast that they are destroyed when they reach our plane, unless they employ powerful magic to keep themselves alive. No, it’s the fact the Dasati are from but one level below us that makes them so fearful to contemplate, my love.’ He sighed as if fatigued. ‘Nakor understands, for he has spent more time studying the Talnoy than anyone else.’ He glanced at the mouth of the cave. ‘The others will discover what I’m telling you; no need to create any risk of panic.

‘The Dasati are mortal like ourselves, but if they reach this level of reality, they will slowly draw life force from around them, from the very grass they tread upon, so that even should we establish a military stalemate, as we did with the Tsurani during the first Riftwar, they would eventually wither us to defeat. Also, the flow of life force towards them makes them harder to kill and ourselves weaker. The longer we are locked in struggle, the more difficult victory will be. And we must remember the numbers; if Kaspar is correct and he saw a true vision of that world, they would not send thousands of warriors, but tens of thousands. If they find us, we must react and react quickly. We can’t have the monarchs of Midkemia fully understanding what we must face, at least for a while, else fear might overwhelm their resolve.’

Miranda studied her husband’s face for a while, then said, ‘We shall do everything we can.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘Now, we both have work to do.’

‘How are you going to return?’

He smiled. ‘I’ll walk. The fresh air clears my head and helps me think.’

She kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll see you at home.’

Before she could vanish, he said, ‘Wait a minute! Did you see Nakor use an orb to leave?’

‘Not that I noticed.’

He smiled. ‘Another of his “tricks”, I expect.’