Krondor: The Betrayal. Raymond E. Feist

      

      

       Copyright

      HarperVoyager

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1998

      Copyright © Raymond E. Feist

      Cover design by Dominic Forbes © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019

      Raymond E. Feist asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Source ISBN: 9780008311254

      Ebook Edition © January 2018 ISBN: 9780007374977

      Version: 2018-11-13

       Dedication

      For John Cutter and Neal Hallford

      with thanks for their creativity and enthusiasm

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Map

      Prologue: Warning

      Chapter One: Encounter

      Chapter Two: Deception

Chapter Three: Revelation

Chapter Four: Passage

Chapter Five: Mission

       Chapter Six: Journey

       Chapter Seven: Murders

       Chapter Eight: Secrets

       Chapter Nine: Suspect

       Chapter Ten: Nighthawks

       Chapter Eleven: Escape

       Chapter Twelve: Preparations

       Chapter Thirteen: Betrayal

       Chapter Fourteen: Instructions

       Chapter Fifteen: Quest

       Chapter Sixteen: Tasks

       Chapter Seventeen: Misdirection

       Chapter Eighteen: Regroup

       Chapter Nineteen: Encounter

       Chapter Twenty: Retribution

       Epilogue: Dedication

       Afterword

       Acknowledgements

       About the Author

       By the Same Author

       About the Publisher

       Map

       • PROLOGUE •

       Warning

      THE WIND HOWLED.

      Locklear, squire of the Prince of Krondor’s court, sat huddled under his heavy cloak, astride his horse. Summer was quick to flee in the Northlands and the passes through the mountains known as the Teeth of the World. Autumn nights in the south might still be soft and warm, but up here in the north, autumn had been a brief visitor and winter was early to arrive, and would be long in residence. Locklear cursed his own stupidity for leading him to this forlorn place.

      Sergeant Bales said, ‘Gets nippy up here, squire.’ The sergeant had heard the rumour about the young noble’s sudden appearance in Tyr-Sog, some matter involving a young woman married to a well-connected merchant in Krondor. Locklear wouldn’t be the first young dandy sent to the frontier to get him out of an angry husband’s reach. ‘Not as balmy as Krondor, sorry to say, sir.’

      ‘Really?’ asked the young squire, dryly.

      The patrol followed a narrow trail along the edge of the foothills, the northern border of the Kingdom of the Isles. Locklear had been in court at Tyr-Sog less than a week when Baron Moyiet had suggested the young squire might benefit from accompanying the special patrol to the east of the city. Rumours had been circulating that renegades and moredhel – dark elves known as the Brotherhood of the Dark Path – were infiltrating south under the cover of heavy rains and snow flurries. Trackers had reported few signs, but hearsay and the insistence of farmers that they had seen companies of dark-clad warriors hurrying south had prompted the Baron to order the patrol.

      Locklear knew as well as the men garrisoned there that the chance of any activity along the small passes over the mountains in late fall or early winter was unusual. While the freeze had just come to the foothills, the higher passes would already be thick with snow, then choked with mud should a brief thaw occur.

      Yet since the war known as the Great Uprising – the invasion of the Kingdom by the army of Murmandamus, the charismatic leader of the dark elves – ten years ago, any activity was to be investigated, and that order came directly from King Lyam.

      ‘Yes, must be a bit of a change from the Prince’s court, squire,’ prodded the sergeant. Locklear had looked the part of a Krondorian dandy – tall, slender, a finely garbed young man in his mid-twenties, affecting a moustache and long ringlets – when he reached Tyr-Sog. Locklear thought the moustache and fine clothing made him look older, but if anything the impact was the opposite of his desired intent.

      Locklear had enough of the sergeant’s playful baiting, and observed, ‘Still, it’s warmer than I remember the other side of the mountains being.’

      ‘Other side, sir?’ asked the sergeant.