The news reaches Fraddir when he's in front of a silversmith's shop, born on the wings of rumor from a Farseer somewhere in the city:  utter defeat.

King Japlet was captured; the Empire had triumphed; the army of Marnon was scattered or killed; they had scarce had the chance to fight before the Empire's magic swept them into chaos; the Empire's army had burned the village priests in their temples; they had set up the image of their Emperor himself in their places...  and they would surely be here on the morrow, or sooner if they cared to make a Gate.