Flight of the Nighthawks

by Raymond E. Feist

  “Which is why we need to hang on to this until the last possible moment of Varen’s life. Had he not placed additional wards around the drain, we would never have found this.” He took the vessel from his wife and returned it to the sack. “I could have been standing knee -

  deep in the filth a foot away and still not have discovered it. It was only chance that Magnus noticed it.

  “Had he not noticed it, all our efforts would have been fi xed upon locating the Nighthawks’ hideout and we might have thought that the current crisis in Kesh was over.”

  Miranda said, “So what do we do now?”

  “We wait for Varen to give himself away,” said Pug. “Whatever he has planned will go forward. The Nighthawks are probably close.

  Something is planned for the Festival of Banapis, and we must stay alert.”

  “The festival begins in less than a week, Father.” Magnus looked at his parents and said, “If it is something monstrous like a wholesale attack on the Imperial family, or a move against another royal before 3 0 0

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  the issue of the succession is settled, we can do nothing to stop the Keshian Empire from being thrown into disarray.”

  Pug nodded. “It’s a risk. But we have the opportunity to destroy Varen, once and for all, and that is more important. If we are vigilant, we may be able to divert whatever murderous plot he has set in motion, but as much as I wish to keep the Empire stable, fi nding Varen is our priority.”

  Magnus nodded. “Very well. I shall return to the city. With Talwin disabled, we need people with the ability to detect magic near the palace. What of you two?”

  “We’ll stay close,” said Miranda. “The game is coming to an end, and we will not risk being too far away from you to help.”

  Magnus smiled. “You mean you want to keep an eye on your boys, Mother.”

  Miranda inclined her head and then smiled back at her eldest.

  “I love my children, even when you were learning to make fi re by pointing a stick at anything that burned.”

  Pug laughed. “What was he, three?”

  “Not quite,” said Miranda. “And you didn’t think it all that funny at the time.”

  “Because he nearly burned my study to the ground.”

  Miranda gave her son a hug. “Yes, even when we wanted to drown you and pretend you had never been born, we loved you, Magnus, as we love Caleb. So, yes, of course I want to keep an eye on my boys.”

  Magnus put his arms around his mother and hugged her. “I’m glad for the attention, this time, truly.” He stepped away and took his staff from where it leaned against the wall. “You know how to fi nd me if you need to,” he said, and vanished.

  Pug said, “Now comes the hard part.”

  Miranda nodded. “We wait.”

  Kaspar nodded as Pasko finished reading Pug’s message.

  Caleb had gone to the safe house and told Amafi and the boys that things were under control, then he had taken Pasko aside and 3 0 1

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  given him Pug’s instructions. The old servant had gone to the morning market and made some purchases. When the morning rush of servants returning to the palace began, he merely followed them with goods his master had instructed him to fetch at fi rst light.

  Pasko handed the device Caleb had given him to Kaspar, who looked at it and said, “Have you a small chain?” They were standing on an open balcony, in imitation of the precautions taken by Lord Bey.

  Pasko held up a finger. “In my kit. A moment, m’lord.” He returned a few minutes later with a simple gold chain and said, “Serving nobles like young Talwin means one collects any number of things over the years. You never know when they might be useful.” He gave the chain to Kaspar, who threaded it through the small hole in the charm Pug had sent him. Then with Pasko’s help, he fastened it around his neck.

  “What is today’s agenda?” asked Pasko, for he had not been inside the palace for two days.

  “The usual receptions and parties, and the first big gala of the festival.”

  “With Banapis but two nights away,” said Pasko, “you fear Varen will move soon?”

  Kaspar shrugged. “When he lived in my citadel, Varen ignored almost all state functions, unless I specifically asked him to join us. He seemed oblivious to the social side of things. He’s probably skulking around the lowest parts of the palace, dressed as a rat catcher or the middens cleaner, setting magical devices that will destroy us in a single instant.”

  “Caleb said that his father is convinced Varen is highly placed here in the palace, one able to quickly bring the nation to a crisis.”

  “Pug may be wrong,” said Kaspar. “He’s a powerful enough man, and a bright fellow, but I’m sure he’ll be the first to tell you that he’s made his share of mistakes. No, for all we know, Varen is a cook poisoning tonight’s meal, and tomorrow, we could all be dead.” Kaspar tapped his chin. “Unless—”

  “Unless what, m’lord?”

  “Unless he requires an audience to—” He turned to Pasko.

  “Could it possibly be?”

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  Flight of the Nighthawks

  “Could what be, m’lord?” said the old servant, looking confused.

  “I have an idea. It’s far- fetched, but Pug should hear it. Have him meet me at—” He looked at Pasko again. “Send word to Caleb that I need to see him. I’ll be at his inn at midday.”

  Pasko nodded and hurried into the suite of rooms. Kaspar was left alone on the balcony, considering what he realized was probably the most preposterous of theories, but the only one he could come up with that met all the criteria they had discussed about Varen’s purpose here in Kesh.

  He stood alone for an hour, reexamining what he knew and what he feared, and the more he pondered the question, the more he knew he was right.

  “You’re mad,” said Miranda as Kaspar finished explaining his suspicions to her, Pug, and Caleb.

  “Varen’s mad,” he answered. “I may be wrong. There’s a difference.”

  Pug said, “He would face the least amount of scrutiny of all the people in the palace, as long as he’s fulfilling the functions of his offi ce and not speaking to anyone suspicious . . . it is possible.”

  Miranda said, “I cannot believe it. Someone would have noticed by now.”

  “Maybe someone did, but there are so many twists within turns in Keshian politics that should a spy go missing or a minor minister . . .”

  Kaspar’s eyes widened. “Maybe we’ve been making the wrong as-sumption about why the Keshian nobles are being murdered.”

  Pug nodded. “Perhaps they are not being murdered because they support Prince Sezioti, but because they noticed something.”

  Kaspar said, “I must get back to the palace and arrange to see Turgan Bey. I need to find out where those nobles were the week before each of them was killed.”

  “If what you suspect turns out to be the truth,” said Miranda,

  “we’ll have the seven lower hells’ own time trying to prove it.”

  “We can’t prove it,” said Pug. “Those who would believe us are already in our ranks. Those who oppose us might know, but they 3 0 3

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  won’t care, and those in the middle will think Kaspar is mad or a criminal.” He looked at Kaspar.

  Caleb had been sitting quietly to one side, and he said, “I understand some of the logic you used to come to this conclusion, Kaspar.

  But how can you be so certain?”

  Kaspar said, “The brothers’ obvious love for each other. They may have had different mothers, but they are very close. The way they talk to each other, about each other . . . Warring factions are part of Keshian tradition, but the parties backing the princes seem to be ignoring the fact that neither would raise a finger in opposition if their father were to name the other as heir.

  “If anyone raised a hand against Sezioti, Dangai would raise his sword to protect his brother and
order the Inner Legion to join with the Imperial Guard. Sezioti may not be the warrior his younger brother is, but he would do the same for Dangai.

  “No, I am convinced. Someone is weaving this rivalry out of thin air and killing those who may have suspected that something was wrong in the palace. I need to speak with Turgan Bey.”

  Pug nodded. “Take Magnus with you disguised as a servant. He’s in the other room with Nakor and Bek.” To Caleb he said, “I think it’s time for you to send the boys back to the island. Once you’ve seen them safely home, return here for the festival. If, as Kaspar suspects, that’s the day Varen makes his move—he’ll want do it in front of as many members of the Gallery of Lords and Masters as possible.”

  Caleb hesitated, and Pug said, “What?”

  “Father, I want to keep the boys here.”

  “Why? It’s almost certain to turn bloody in a hurry.”

  “I’ll keep them on the edge of things, but sooner or later they will have to be tested. They’ve done well so far, even better than I could have hoped for, but we’re going to need every sword we can muster.”

  “Even Jommy?” said Pug. “I’ve not even met the lad.”

  “He’s able to look after himself. He may not have trained with a sword, but he’s a brawler and keeps his wits about him. I’ll make sure they know they’re reserves, but I want them close.”

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  Pug conceded. “You’ve taken the responsibility as their father, Caleb. It’s your decision.” He smiled. “Just be careful.”

  Pug looked at Kaspar as he readied to leave. “I hope you’re right in your suspicions, for then we will have this over in two days, but I pray you are not, for so much will weigh on our ability to convince a palace of angry Keshian nobles we are protecting their nation. I will be close and you have the amulet. If I judge Varen correctly, he’ll be waiting for me to appear, but he may not be ready for all of us. If we can provoke him into revealing himself before the entire court, we may yet save this nation, and this entire world.”

  Kaspar said nothing as he left, but the grim expression he wore mirrored how Caleb, Miranda, and Pug felt.

  Caleb stood up and said, “I’ll go and ready the boys.”

  As he made to leave, both his parents hugged him, and Miranda said, “I wish you’d reconsider and take the boys to the island, and you’d make me happy if you stayed with them.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve a wife, now—”

  “And three stepsons, apparently,” said his father.

  Caleb smiled. “Jommy will grow on you. He’s a good boy. But you need swords with you, Father, and with Tal injured, I should be at your side. What was it Nakor used to say about magicians in battle? ‘One magician throw spell. Second magician counter spell.

  First magician throw second spell, second magician try to stop him.

  Soldier walk up and chop up first magician while he’s trying to think of what to throw next.’ ”

  Pug laughed. “It was something like that, but don’t let him hear you imitating him like that, you’ll hurt his feelings.

  “Kaspar will be there,” said Pug. “And it won’t be one magician facing Varen, but three of us.”

  “And Nakor,” said Miranda, “and that odd boy he has following him around.”

  Caleb said, “If you order me to stay at the island I will, Father, but I would rather be here.”

  Pug stayed silent for a long moment, before he said, “I want you 3 0 5

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  to stay on the island.” He hugged Caleb again. “But you’re right; I need you here.”

  Pug said, “Miranda, keep an eye on things until I return, will you?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the island for a while. I think I may have an idea that might help us.”

  Miranda kissed her husband, then he produced an orb and vanished. She motioned for her son and they left the room to fetch the three boys.

  Final good - byes were said, and Kaspar and Magnus left for the palace, stopping along the way to buy Magnus his disguise. Nakor bade the boys and Caleb good luck, and after they and everyone had departed, he said to Miranda, “Now?”

  Pulling out a chair and sitting down, Miranda said, “Now we order something to eat, and we wait.”

  Ralan Bek looked at her and said, “Is there something I can do?”

  Nakor walked around the lad and put his hands on his shoulders.

  “Soon, my young friend. Soon.”

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  TWENTY - ONE

  A n t i c i p a t i o n

  Kaspar scanned the crowd.

  The gala would be the centerpiece of the great Midsummer Festival of Banapis, the oldest known holiday in the world. Its origins were lost in antiquity, going back before the oldest recorded history. It was a day belonging to neither the past nor the coming year. According to legend, Banapis, known by other names in other nations, was celebrated over the entire world of Midkemia.

  Kaspar had discovered that today the Midwinter Festival would be celebrated down in Novindus, and when it was midwinter here in Kesh and the other northern nations, it would be midsummer down there. He idly wondered if the extra Midsummer Day that he experienced the year before in Novindus really counted, and whether it truly made him an extra year older.

  Raymond E. Feist

  Both Pasko and Amafi were in attendance, as with Caleb elsewhere, Amafi had no further duties, and Kaspar had decided he could use an extra pair of eyes in the crowd. He knew that Magnus had secreted himself somewhere in the assembly, and that Pug and Miranda were able to arrive at a moment’s notice. He wished that Hawkins were recovered, for he knew his sword was irreplaceable. And where Nakor had got to was anybody’s guess.

  “This is the intimate celebration, Magnificence?” asked Amafi .

  “It is if you’re the Emperor of Kesh,” responded Pasko. “Only his closest friends and dearest relatives are here.”

  “All ten thousand of them,” said Kaspar dryly.

  The plaza that marked the lowest edge of the upper plateau at the end of the palace proper was as big as the entire inner bailey of the citadel at Opardum. Kaspar’s entire army could have assembled here without two soldiers rubbing elbows.

  The plaza itself was divided into three levels. The Imperial family would sit upon the highest—a relatively small platform that could be reached from within the palace itself. There would be approximately five hundred personages of significant rank there with them. Had Kaspar still held the title of duke, he would be up there today. However, as a lowly suppliant he was relegated to the second platform, where the majority of guests would stand.

  Along the entire edge of the second level a flight of six stone steps descended to the third level, but even without guards or barriers, those on the lowest level knew their place. The lack of guards was the Keshian gesture to the idea that during Banapis, rank held no meaning. In the Kingdom of Isles and Roldem the king might mix with the commoners in the street upon this day, but in Great Kesh, it was simply the absence of a thousand white - clad Imperial Household Guards that signaled the equality of this myth.

  Kaspar knew that to mount those steps to the second level without permission would instantly reveal where the guards were hiding, and to try to reach the upper platform where the Emperor sat would invite certain death. And at some point, Kaspar reasoned, he would be the one attempting to reach that highest platform. He glanced to either side of the raised area. Unlike the lower two sections, the Impe-3 0 8

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  rial platform was high enough above the second level to effectively be a giant balcony, with a suitably impossible wall to climb. Easy access was only possible via the steps on either side, or by retreating into the palace proper, navigating up to that level, then somehow getting through the royal apartments or the Gallery of Lords and Masters.

  The steps were guarded by a dozen white - clad Imperial
Household Guards, and nothing short of a squad of trained soldiers would win past them. Kaspar turned to Amafi and Pasko and said, “Seems to me if we’re gong to get up there, we’d best seek the back entrance.”

  Amafi smiled. “I know the route, Magnifi cence.”

  “Let me guess,” Pasko offered dryly. “You’ve assassinated a Keshian prince before?”

  “Not quite,” said the former killer in his self - effacing way just as revelers started to hurry past them. “I once was commissioned to remove a young courtier who was becoming a problem to a minor functionary here in the palace. The courtier was Trueblood, the functionary wasn’t, and his wife was indiscreet. Sadly, the courtier choked on an olive pit during the celebration, up on that very plaza.” Amafi smiled. “Truly one of my more subtle undertakings.”

  Kaspar said, “Well, the sun is setting and chaos will arrive shortly, so let’s take advantage of it. I have noticed over the years that for the most part people do not bother you when you look as if you know what you’re doing, so let us appear so.” He motioned for the two servants to lead on, and followed them as more and more people arrived in the middle plaza.

  It took longer than he had anticipated to reach the entrance to the palace, and as he had said, merely by looking as if they had a purpose to their movements, the guards at the main entrance let them pass without question.

  “How long has it been?” asked Kaspar, already knowing the answer.

  “Three hours, m’lord,” said Pasko. “Almost three hours to the minute.”

  “If we’re late, he may not tarry.”

  “If he won’t spare you five extra minutes,” said Amafi , “you didn’t impress upon him the importance of the meeting suffi ciently.”

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  “He has duties,” said Kaspar, picking up the pace. “We’re late.”

  They arrived at a doorway in a hall, guarded by two members of the Household Guard. As they hurried forward, Kaspar said, “I’ll have your hide if we are late, Amafi !”