Читать книгу The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 18

PUG CAST HIS SPELL.

Without any apparent physical effort, he gestured and a wall-frame rose off the ground where the carpenters had laid it, and hovered in the air for a moment. Two workers grabbed it by the ends and Pug moved sixty feet of wall into place without difficulty where it was quickly attached at the base by large iron spikes driven into the foundation stones. Straps of iron were then attached at the corners to link it to the already-standing rear wall of the main house.

‘Thank you, Pug,’ said the chief builder.

‘You’re welcome, Shane.’ He liked the rough-mannered stonemason who would now oversee the placing of each stone against the frame. The interior would be plastered and when they were finished there would once again be a Villa Beata on Sorcerer’s Isle.

Pug turned to see his son directing the disposition of a huge pallet of stones. Two younger magicians, Herbert and Lillian, were using their abilities to lift and steer the stones that Shane would use to face the building. Pug’s decision was not to rebuild the villa to its original specification, but to build it more to his own personal taste and to change a few things he hadn’t cared for over the years he had resided on the island.

For one thing, he was not rebuilding the ancient communal bath. It had proved to be a waste of resources for it was rarely used and when it was it was hard to keep the hot water hot and the cold water cold because of the younger magicians’ seemingly uncontrollable impulses in playing pranks on one other. Some of the cultures from which his students hailed had a strict segregation of the sexes while others did not, and one person’s modesty was another’s oddly amusing behaviour.

Thinking of a group of sisters who had been students years before, he also amended that some of them found the baths an ideal place to hold parties that quickly got out of hand. He was certain at various times both his sons had found themselves in a steaming bath with an assortment of playful companions. Thinking of Caleb caused Pug to pause for a moment, but there was no use indulging in maudlin thoughts. Letting go of the sadness, he forced himself to remember a happy moment with Caleb and Marie, then turned his attention back to the work at hand.

He would install bathing rooms in every dormitory: if students wanted to frolic nude, they could do so on the other side of the island; there was ample water in the lake.

A voice from the top of the ridge caused Pug to turn. A young student was waving down at the building site, shouting something Pug could not understand, but his behaviour implied it was of some urgency.

Pug used his magic to suddenly appear next to the youngster who stumbled back a step. ‘What is it, Phillip?’

‘Ships!’ answered the student. ‘Jack sent me to tell you that many ships are passing to the south.’

‘Thank you,’ said Pug, and vanished.

A moment later he stood atop the highest tower of the black castle, above two windows which conveniently flickered an evil blue light should any ship pass within sight at night, both to alert anyone in the castle and as a warning for seafarers not to come ashore. It was part of the entire charade surrounding the person of the ‘Black Sorcerer’, a creation of Pug’s father-in-law, Macros the Black, and one continued after his departure by Pug. It protected the privacy of those on the island: anyone who ignored it was either someone welcome on the island, or someone subjected to less subtle means of dissuasion.

The young magician there turned without surprise and said, ‘I make it at least a dozen sails.’ Jack was slender with sandy-coloured hair, and piercing blue eyes. Pug also knew those eyes were capable of seeing quite a bit farther than most, a natural ability of magic that was as yet untrained. Pug took advantage of that by putting the young man on lookout duty at least once a week.

‘I haven’t your eyes,’ said Pug with a smile. He formed a circle with his hands, spoke a soft incantation, and suddenly the air in the circle shimmered. The image of the distant horizon within that circle suddenly shifted, seeming to jump towards Pug as he willed the very air to bend, magnifying the image.

‘I’ve never seen ships like those,’ said Jack.

‘Not on this sea, no,’ said Pug. The ships were square-rigged, fast in a following breeze, most carrying only a single mast, with one or two larger vessels possessing a second mast with a lateen-rigged sail. The shorter ships had four rowers a side and the longer ships eight, so it was clear the rowing would only be for short periods of manoeuvring, not for long travel. On the bow of each ship was a colourful figure: a dragon, eagle or hawk, each with a carved woman’s head in miniature just below, painted in bright hues. ‘They’re Keshian.’

‘I’ve never seen their like in Durbin,’ said Jack.

‘Those are Brijaner longships, from the eastern shores of the Empire of Great Kesh. The Brijaners are raiders, but this is too far from home for them to be operating without the Empire’s approval. Something is going on.’ He waved his hands and the image vanished.

‘I see sails farther to the south,’ said Jack, peering as if he could will himself to see further than the limits of his sight.

Pug said, ‘I’ll go take a look.’ And he disappeared.

An instant later Pug stood in mid-air, using his arts to keep him aloft. He was so high that if a lookout on the topmast of one of the ships below glanced up, he’d appear like nothing more than a bird soaring aloft.

Pug lingered long enough only to apprise himself of what was underway, then he returned to the villa construction site.

Magnus said, ‘Father?’

‘Send word, I want everyone back here as soon as possible for a meeting of the Conclave.’

‘Everyone?’ Since the attack on the island during which his wife Miranda had died, Pug had never requested more than two or three members of the Conclave be present at any one time. The mad magician Leso Varen had somehow managed to circumvent the island’s many magical defences and Pug had become almost obsessed with never allowing his most important lieutenants to gather and become a single target again.

‘Everyone,’ Pug repeated.

Magnus didn’t hesitate, using his considerable skills to transport himself in an instant to his father’s study in the Black Castle. A device had been constructed that could be used to summon any or all members of the Conclave of Shadows’ inner circle, those men and women upon whom the organization effectively rested. The device was a large sphere with runic markings around it, each attuned to a member of the inner circle. By depressing the mark associated with that member, the indicated person would receive an unmistakable sensation, a feeling akin to an itch that couldn’t be scratched, annoying enough to awaken any but the soundest sleeper. It would last for ten seconds and then repeat in half an hour and would continue until the member arrived on the island. Pug used the irritation the device caused to drive home the point that these devices he provided were precious and needed to be closely guarded. The idea of having to travel from the other side of the world by conventional means with the recurring itch was a strong goad.

Almost immediately members of the inner council began to arrive. Magnus could feel the magical energies even as far away from the meeting cave as he was. He transported himself to a position just outside and walked into the large cavern set within the hillside on the north side of the island.

Pug was already there, along with Jason, the magician who acted as Pug’s reeve when he and Magnus were both absent from the island, and the first of the thirty-three summoned members of the Conclave.

Grand Master Creegan of the Order of the Shield of the Weak, the martial order of the Temple of Dala, shook his head ruefully. ‘I trust this is important. I was about to begin a meeting with the senior members of my order when the call arrived. I can put them off for a few hours, but even the authority of my office has limits.’

‘Understood,’ said Pug, shaking his hand.

The arrivals continued for a full twenty minutes. The last to make it through were those on the other side of the world, who had been asleep when the call came, several of whom still looked barely awake. A quick head count showed they were all present save two, and Pug began. ‘We can’t wait. I’m sorry to convene this meeting so abruptly, but something has occurred and we need to address it at once.’

The cave had remained unchanged since they had first been introduced to it by Gathis, the odd, goblin-like servant of Macros the Black. Like so many things associated with Macros, two things remained a mystery: the whereabouts of Gathis who had simply vanished one day, leaving Pug alone in charge of the Island; and the true nature of the cave.

At first it appeared to be little more than a deep depression in the side of the hill, but when you turned a corner inside it, the cavern presented itself. In a semi-circle along the walls was a ledge of stone that provided a natural seating area, allowing the members to sit in relative comfort. And in the centre of the cavern rose a pillar of stone, on top of which rested a statue to Sarig, the lost god of magic. Over the years the aspect of the bust had changed by mysterious means so that it represented men, women, and other beings who were somehow at that moment an avatar of the god.

Pug could never quite fathom if there was something truly significant about the statue, or if it was merely some manifestation of Macros’s love of the theatrical.

A still-sleepy magician named Jerome hurried in, obviously having just got dressed after bathing, his wet hair still plastered to his skull. ‘Sorry,’ he said, nodding in greeting.

That left just one member missing. Glancing around the cave, Pug said questioningly, ‘Sandreena?’

It was Grand Master Creegan who replied. ‘There is no reason I can imagine that would keep her from answering the call. She must be incapacitated somehow.’

Magnus said, ‘Or the device failed.’

Pug sighed and nodded. The ancient Tsurani transportation orbs were becoming a problem. Translocation or teleportation was one of the more difficult feats, even for practised magicians. Magnus was unparalleled in his ability to travel anywhere he had visited before, as well as certain places he had never seen on the basis of unique features well described to him. Pug could travel easily to any place he could see, or knew, and Magnus had helped him master greater range. But only a handful of magicians could match even Pug’s more limited abilities, and many of the agents of the Conclave, like Grand Master Creegan, were not magicians.

Pug whispered to Magnus, ‘If it’s the device, make sure to turn off the summons. I can’t have her itching every half-hour.’ He paused. ‘Unless you’d like to face her and her mace when she finally does get here?’

Magnus vanished and in a moment he was back. ‘Taken care of, Father.’

Pug said, ‘And Amirantha?’

Magnus said, ‘Despite his residency here for the last few years, you’ve never formally invited him into the Conclave, so he doesn’t have means to return in a hurry. I’ll have to fetch him from the elven city.’

Pug said, ‘Later. I’d rather not disturb him while he’s at E’bar.’ His gaze travelled around the assembled members of the Conclave. Then he took a deep breath and announced, ‘Apparently a very large war is erupting between the Empire of Great Kesh and the Kingdom of the Isles.’

Everyone in the room appeared surprised, yet there was little evidence of shock. One magician, by the name of Brandtly, whom Pug had serving as a liaison with Stardock, said, ‘We’ve heard rumours, and some of the Keshian magicians at Stardock have been absent of late, but rumours of war in the Vale are constant.’

Grand Master Creegan asked, ‘You’ve had no word from agents in either court?’

‘We don’t properly have an agent in the court in Rillanon,’ Pug said, ‘though we enjoy a special relationship with their intelligence service.’ Most in the room knew of Pug’s treatment of the future King of the Isles, Prince Patrick of Krondor, at the end of the war with the Emerald Queen, when Kesh had tried to press its advantage against the Kingdom’s weakened defences in the West. Pug had ended the war, but had publicly embarrassed the hot-tempered young monarch. Since then, relations between the Conclave and the Kingdom had been strained at best, hostile at worst. ‘If James Jamison had heard anything that had any bearing on this, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t share that intelligence with us. He more than anyone in the King’s service has a sense of what is at stake, what dangers are still out there.’ His hand waved vaguely towards the cave entrance, but everyone knew he meant those unknown beings behind the onslaught of demons against this realm. ‘It may have been years since our enemies last assaulted us, but they will come again, there is no doubt. And we will need every force at our disposal to oppose them. We cannot permit this war. Two devastated armies will not do; two plundered populations will not do.’ His voice rose. ‘Two severely weakened nations will not do.

‘None of our friends in the court of the Emperor have hinted at such an undertaking. We’ve had reports detailing debates within the Chamber of Lords and Masters, some calling for a more aggressive policy towards the Kingdom, especially regarding the Vale of Dreams. But no warnings, no alarms, nothing.’ Pug let out a long breath. ‘This is no mad adventure conducted by dissidents or a break-away faction in the Empire. For something of this scale, the Emperor himself had to give approval, or at least be in no position to object.’

Pug looked at Creegan. ‘Had the temples any warning?’

‘No, just the usual: some members of the Congress of Lords urging a more belligerent posture towards Kesh, and closer ties with Roldem.’ He stopped. ‘Usually, those in favour of adventure turn their eyes to the Eastern Kingdoms, seeking to expand in that direction. War with Kesh is never anyone’s notion of a good idea.’ He paused, then added, ‘But we haven’t received any reports from our temples or shrines in the south of Kesh for over a month now. And Sandreena was investigating some reports of …’

‘What?’ prompted Pug.

‘Just some things that sounded to her as if the Black Caps might have returned.’

The Black Caps were a group of murderers and thugs attached to those who had been in the service of Belasco, the mad magician who had attempted to bring the Demon King Dahun into this realm and had been possessed by him for his trouble. In the end both the magician and the Demon Lord had been destroyed, but many of those serving them had escaped into the wilds of Kesh. Any rumour of their re-emergence would have attracted Sandreena’s attention, as she had more run-ins with them than anyone else.

‘You didn’t think this worthy of a mention?’ asked Magnus.

‘I would have once she returned,’ said Creegan. Members of the Conclave were not merely Pug’s agents, but powerful men and women in their own right, and many bristled at the idea they had to defend their choices within their own areas of influence.

Pug held up his hand, forestalling any argument. ‘I trust each of you to let me know what’s critical.’

He looked from face to face, almost as if trying to read their thoughts, then seized upon something Creegan had said. ‘Sandreena ventured to the south of Great Kesh?’

‘Yes, somewhere below the Girdle,’ said the Grand Master.

‘Have any of you received reports from your agents south of the Girdle recently?’

Glances were exchanged, and finally a woman named Veronica said, ‘No. But then it’s not unusual to not hear from them for months. There is very little that happens in the Confederacy that has any particular bearing on our interests, save the occasional magician who is found and recruited for the Academy or your island.’

Pug nodded. ‘If our enemies know us as well as I think they do, where better to stage a massive operation against us than somewhere we just choose to ignore?’

Daniel, a highly-placed warrior in the martial order known as The Hammer, stood up. The Hammer was a disavowed sect putatively associated with the Temple of Tith-Onanka. In fact they were close to being a mercenary army, tolerated on both sides of the border between Kesh and the Kingdom. They answered only to their leader, the Knight-Marshal of the order, and it had taken years for Pug to place an agent within their ranks: like other martial orders associated with the temples, they were wary of spies and had magical means by which they could ferret them out. ‘How big was the fleet you saw, Pug?’ Daniel asked.

‘I counted over one hundred ships making for Port Vykor or Krondor.’

‘If they’re sending that many ships into the Bitter Sea, they have other fleets as well. They’ll not leave their coasts unprotected from pirates, raiders, retaliation, or other disasters. Moreover, the combined fleets of Roldem and Isles in the Sea of Kingdoms needs be met with a show of strength.’ Daniel paused, thinking. ‘To muster such a fleet south of the Girdle and then sail up to the Straits of Darkness and into the Bitter Sea within a few weeks to catch the Kingdom unawares …’ He stopped. ‘What I’m trying to say is the execution may have only taken weeks, but the planning … that’s been months, perhaps years. Food, weapons, drinking water: it’s a massive cargo! It all has to be moved somewhere out-of-the-way, somewhere they have a reasonable expectation of privacy.’ Daniel looked around the room as if looking for someone to argue against his point. No one did.

‘South of the Girdle would be an obvious choice,’ said Magnus. ‘We presume, perhaps wrongly, that the Empire is primarily in a position to pacify, not to be used as a staging area.’

‘Ah, but there’s more than simply hauling a few casks of water, some loaves of bread, hogsheads of hard cheese and dried beef and leaving them on a beach for ships to pick up,’ continued Daniel. ‘Moving goods through the market sets up ripples.’ He looked at the tall, white-haired magician. ‘You’re smarter than most, Magnus, but like all of us you’re ignorant about one thing or another.

‘I’m in logistics, and that’s how I made my way into The Hammer, feeding the bastards.’ He laughed. ‘The point is, if I wander into a city and buy up enough food for a thousand men, prices go up, others can’t find what they’re seeking, and word goes out to the world that that city needs whatever it is I bought. Shippers then scramble, buying whatever they think they can quickly get to market where I am, and that creates more demand further away.’ He wiggled his fingers. ‘Ripples, you see? Like a rock in a pond. The thing is: with this bastard of a fleet sailing around there are no ripples.’

Pug nodded. ‘Which means goods are being supplied from outside the normal channels of supply. From somewhere we have no informants.’ He waved his hand and an image appeared in the air. ‘This is a likeness of a map I found years ago in Macros’s library, of the southern half of the Empire. From what I’ve learned since I found it, the borders are fluid, the clans and nations variable, and little can be fixed beyond the location of a few big towns on the coast.’

‘It looks as if it’s mainly desert, swamps, and mountains,’ said Daniel. ‘And I know what little farmland is down there is old, worn out and dry. The Confederates are always looking for an excuse to push north. And any large supply of food there would get be eaten, not warehoused.’

Magnus pointed. ‘What about that large island to the south?’

‘That’s the Island of Snakes,’ said Daniel. ‘No one lives there. the north side’s a cold, forlorn place, and that’s the good side. The southern half is close enough to the pole you get winter most of the year and summer’s nothing to call warm and inviting.’

Pug was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Snakes? Snakes don’t live in cold, barren places. I’ve never seen snakes where there’s snow on the ground for much of the year.’

‘Who drew the map?’ asked Creegan.

‘Macros himself,’ said Pug, making it vanish with a wave of his hand. ‘He often took old scraps of things he found, pieced them together like puzzles, then annotated them. I’ve taken to annotating his annotations,’ he added with a rueful smile, ‘where I know he made a mistake.’

‘Maybe “snakes” is a mistranslation,’ said Daniel. ‘Or maybe it referred to snakelike rivers, or some other thing.’

‘Or maybe it’s a place where cold-weather snakes exist,’ countered Pug. ‘Still, whatever the reason for the odd name, that’s where I’d be warehousing my foodstuffs and weapons.’

‘I’d have my ships sail out of the Keshian ports,’ Daniel continued, ‘for they’d only need a normal supply of provisions, then run down there to pick up whatever else I needed. Then I could make the long run along the southern coast, up the western coast into the Bitter Sea, then on to Krondor. The currents along the western coast of Kesh are from the south, so it’s a fast run. Keeps the need for provisions for the crews and soldiers to a minimum.

‘Still,’ said Daniel, ‘you’d think if they were stockpiling goods and food and weapons down there, we’d still have had some sort of hint over the last year or so.’

‘Those weapons must be coming from somewhere, Father,’ agreed Magnus. ‘One would assume that should Kesh’s armourers and weapon-makers be increasing production lately, some attention might be paid by one of our agents, or one of the Kingdom’s.’

Daniel agreed. ‘There would be a demand for raw materials, Pug. More iron from the mines, more ships carrying it to the foundries, more coal for the forges, more leather, more wood; all that someone, somewhere would surely have noticed.’

‘Maybe they did,’ said Pug absently.

Everyone stared at him.

At last, he said, ‘Over the years our enemies may have proved mad by our standards, but they have also proved to be cunning. Leso Varen almost captured and controlled two nations, Olasko and Great Kesh itself, working essentially alone both times. Belasco managed to bring a small demon army into our realm before we were able to close off that gate.

‘What if it’s just been going on long enough that we never noticed an increase in the demand for weapons and other necessary equipment?’ He looked at Daniel. ‘Where does The Hammer buy its swords?’

Daniel shook his head as if caught by surprise. ‘Ah … places. We have sword-makers in several cities we regularly do business with. Some of the brothers of the order are gifted craftsmen, so we manage most of the repairs ourselves.’

‘So if one of your sources were suddenly to start making twelve swords instead of ten …?’

‘I think I understand,’ said Daniel with dawning comprehension. ‘If a sword-maker in Elarial was given an order for fifty new blades by The Hammer but produced fifty-five, and sent the extra five along in a shipment of other goods somewhere else … who would notice?’

‘Yes,’ said Pug. ‘But let us not dwell on how, but rather who and where.’

‘Well, that damn snake place seems a likely where,’ said Daniel.

‘Yes,’ agreed Pug. ‘And if that is the place, then we’ll soon know who.’

‘You’re sending someone?’ asked Magnus.

‘No,’ said Pug. ‘This time I’m going myself.’

‘Really?’ Magnus sounded shocked.

‘I’ve been sitting on this island feeling pity for myself far too long, son.’ He flashed a smile Magnus hadn’t seen in years. ‘It’s time for me to get out and do some of the hard work myself. Besides, it’s a part of this world I’ve never visited before. It should be interesting.’

Ruefully, Magnus said, ‘Let’s hope it’s not too interesting.’