Krondor: The Betrayal

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by Raymond E. Feist


  Laughing, Obkhar said, ‘‘Never. I still intend to kill you for that, someday, but for the time being we need to be allies.’’

  Owyn produced the masks. ‘‘Where is the tunnel of fumes?’’

  ‘‘This way,’’ said Obkhar, leading them down a side tunnel.

  They reached a point where the fumes threatened to suffo-cate them, and Obkhar said, ‘‘Put on your mask. They will 207

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  help your eyes not at all, but you will be able to breathe. We have a long way to go and an icy swim at the end of it. The tunnel out is half-flooded, and leads to a branch of the River Isbandi.’’

  They put on the masks, and Owyn was surprised to discover they worked. The fumes burned his eyes, but by blinking rapidly he could see. He almost gave Obkhar a heart attack when he illuminated himself and his companions with his magic.

  The old moredhel chieftain said, ‘‘For a moment I thought you had struck a flame, and we were all about to be incinerated.’’

  They reached the tunnel that was flooded and entered icy water that rose to their knees. As they walked they moved deeper and soon they were up to their chests. Obkhar signaled and ducked his head underwater. Owyn and Gorath did likewise. They felt a tug and suddenly were swept into an underground stream.

  Kicking hard, Owyn followed and when he came up, his head bumped stone. Fighting down panic, he moved a short distance away, and his head broke clear of water. Obkhar said,

  ‘‘You can take your mask off.’’

  ‘‘Good,’’ replied Owyn. ‘‘Because mine came off underwater.’’

  Something that may have been a chuckle came from Gorath.

  Obkhar said, ‘‘We have less than a mile to swim.’’

  They set off, Owyn fearing he would be pulled down by the weight of his sodden clothing, but he mustered the strength to continue. Suddenly above he saw stars and he realized they had come outside.

  A short way down the river torches burned, and when they swam toward them, voices softly called out.

  ‘‘It is I, Irmelyn.’’

  They were helped out of the water, taken to a fire, and given heavy robes to wear while their clothes were dried. ‘‘Any alarm?’’ asked Obkhar.

  ‘‘None so far,’’ said a moredhel unknown to Owyn. ‘‘The guards we bribed will say nothing. It may go unnoticed for a very long time that you are not there. Many die in the mines and their bodies lie unnoticed in tunnels.’’

  Gorath asked, ‘‘Now, what of Cullich?’’

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  Obkhar said, ‘‘Is she still alive?’’

  Irmelyn said, ‘‘Yes, and she lives nearby.’’

  ‘‘I was told I could see her on our way south,’’ said Gorath.

  Obkhar looked at Irmelyn, who nodded. ‘‘A promise is a promise,’’ said the chieftain. ‘‘I must leave now, with those of my tribe who are to travel the passes with me. Irmelyn will guide you to Cullich and then on your way over the mountains.’’

  ‘‘Avoid Harlik,’’ said Irmelyn. ‘‘Moraeulf and The Six are there.’’

  ‘‘I will,’’ said Obkhar, as he finished changing into dry clothing. He said, ‘‘Gorath, fare you well, old foe. Let no one but me take your life.’’

  ‘‘You survive,’’ said Gorath, ‘‘so that I may take your head someday.’’

  After they had gone, Owyn said, ‘‘You two sound almost fond of one another.’’

  Gorath ate a piece of dried beef given him by Irmelyn, and said, ‘‘Of course. Friends can betray you, but with an old enemy, you always know where you stand.’’

  Owyn said, ‘‘I never thought of it that way.’’

  Irmelyn said, ‘‘They are an odd race, aren’t they?’’

  ‘‘Very odd,’’ agreed Gorath.

  The hut was primitive, barely four walls of scrap wood cobbled together and roofed with thatch. A stone chimney emitted a faint wisp of smoke, the only sign of anyone inside.

  ‘‘She’s in there?’’ asked Gorath.

  Irmelyn nodded. ‘‘Yes.’’

  Gorath dismounted, as did Owyn. Irmelyn said, ‘‘Delekhan has her watched occasionally. I had better stay here. If I call, come quickly.’’

  Gorath nodded, and opened the door.

  If the woman who waited inside was shocked at the unexpected appearance, she masked it well. She merely looked up from her corner next to the fire, and said, ‘‘Enter and close the door.’’

  ‘‘Is that your warmest welcome, Cullich? Your husband has returned.’’

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  Owyn’s mouth dropped open.

  She rose, sinuous and powerful in her movement, and while her gown was in tatters and her hair dirty and matted, Owyn was struck by the resemblance between this woman and Liallan. This woman’s hair was raven dark, while Liallan’s was red. While Liallan had been slender and lithe, Cullich was buxom and wide of hip. Her face was wide-boned, but there was something in common with the sunken-cheeked leader of the Snow Leopard Clan. Both women radiated power.

  ‘‘Husband?’’ said the woman in mocking tones, her blue eyes fastened on Gorath. ‘‘How so? Clan leader? By what right? Ruler of a host? No more. Once you held those titles and had earned that rank, with guile and bravery, cunning and strength. Around you the Clan Ardanien lay curled like a sleeping dragon, awaiting your word to rise up and crush whoever opposed us. Where is that dragon now?’’

  ‘‘Gone, scattered to the north, across the Teeth of the World, hiding.’’

  ‘‘Then call yourself clan chief and husband no more, Gorath.

  You lost the right to those titles when you gave the order to flee Sethanon, when you refused my wisdom.’’

  ‘‘Wisdom, old witch? You counsel murder and madness. Do you still dream of conquest, of all the ranting of Murmandamus? Did you learn nothing by the obliteration of our people at Armengar and Sethanon? Two sons did I see fall along the way. One of them was our son.’’

  ‘‘What would you have of me, old man?’’ asked the woman.

  ‘‘I seek to end the madness. Will you aid me?’’

  ‘‘How, by dying and having my head placed on a spear outside Sar-Sargoth?’’

  ‘‘Delekhan must be stopped.’’

  ‘‘Why? What destiny would you choose for our people, Gorath? Would you have us bend our heads to the earth once more? Should we serve the eledhel Queen as we once did the Valheru? We are a free people! Or do you feel the tug of the Returning?’’

  ‘‘No!’’ said Gorath, his eyes flashing in anger. ‘‘But I have heard things, learned things.’’ Pointing to Owyn, he said, ‘‘Not all humans are our enemies.’’

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  ‘‘No,’’ said Cullich. ‘‘There are those who will serve us for gold.’’

  ‘‘No, I mean there are those who would live with us as neighbors, in peace.’’

  ‘‘Peace?’’ said the woman, with a laugh of contempt. ‘‘When have the moredhel spoken of peace? You sound like one returned to Elvandar. They who were once rampaging bulls are now gelded oxen, serving the Queen, no better than slaves.’’

  ‘‘This is not so, wife,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘The glamredhel have joined the eledhel, and not as slaves, but as welcomed brethren.’’

  ‘‘The mad ones!’’ said the moredhel woman. ‘‘You think it true, then you go. I will abide. Here is my home, and eventually I will find someone who can use my talents, and my knowledge, and he will be a warrior, and I will show him how to rise and take power and how to hold it. I will have other sons, sons that will live.’’

  Gorath sighed. ‘‘I feared that such would be your reply.’’

  ‘‘Then why have you come here? Surely not to rekindle a love long dead between us.’’

  ‘‘No . . . I need your help. For a short time, then I shall be gone from your life, one way or another.’’

  ‘‘For the sake o
f that love, now dead, I will listen,’’ she said, openly surprised by Gorath’s admission.

  ‘‘Where are Delekhan’s forces now?’’

  Cullich looked out her frosted window. ‘‘Massed on the Kingdom border. The banners of Clans Krieda, Dargelas, and Oeirdu are held in reserve near Raglam. I hear both Liallan’s and Narab’s forces are to march soon.’’

  Gorath smiled. ‘‘Narab has turned on his master, like a rabid wolf.’’

  ‘‘Nevertheless, there are ample armies along the border to make crossing difficult.’’

  ‘‘We have a way,’’ said Gorath.

  ‘‘Then what would you have of me?’’

  ‘‘You know things, witch. What do you know of The Six?’’

  ‘‘I once sought to scry on them, and for my troubles I was rendered senseless for more than a day. I know only that they possess arts beyond my understanding. Of all the things Delek-211

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  han has his hand in, this may be the most dangerous. He thinks he controls them; I wonder.’’

  From outside the house, Irmelyn shouted. ‘‘We must leave.’’

  ‘‘Go,’’ said the witch. ‘‘I think we shall never see one another again, and for that I am not sad. Too much pain has passed between us. These will be our last words as husband and wife.

  When you pass through that door, our marriage will end. But know this: I wish you well in whatever life awaits you.’’

  ‘‘As do I,’’ said Gorath sadly. ‘‘Be well, wife.’’

  ‘‘And you, husband.’’

  Gorath left the hut and when the door slammed shut, ending his marriage, he hesitated an instant, then he and Owyn mounted and rode off. Irmelyn shouted as they rode, ‘‘We must clear a pass before sundown, else those who will look the other way when we go by will have been replaced.’’

  Lost in thought, Gorath said nothing, and Owyn could only think that with luck, he might live to see the Kingdom again.

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  •

  Preparations W IND AND RAIN PELTED THE RIDERS.

  Owyn wasn’t sure if this was preferable to the snows endured on the north side of the mountain, for while it was warmer, it was far wetter. His heavy fur-lined robe was sodden, weighing on him like lead. But at least, he thought, this time he wasn’t drugged and tied to his horse.

  The escort provided by Obkhar’s clan had seen them safely to a pass controlled by their faction. As they reached the foothills of the mountain, they intercepted a runner carrying warnings of a falling-out near Sar-Sargoth. Delekhan’s forces were surrounded by Narab, who had been removed from Delekhan’s inner council and replaced by Delekhan’s son Moraeulf.

  Speculation was that Narab had to move to capture and destroy Delekhan before The Six intervened or else he and his clan would be crushed. Gorath greeted the news with indifference, later mentioning to Owyn he would be pleased if either of them destroyed the other.

  At the summit of the small pass they had taken, the escort turned back, saying this pass was heavily patrolled by Kingdom forces. As if predicted, later that same day they had been intercepted by a Kingdom patrol of Krondorian regulars. The officer in command, Lieutenant Flynn by name, had been ready to brand them both renegades, but Owyn mentioned Arutha’s name, and said they carried a message from Squire James, and more to the point, they knew Arutha was camped in the Dimwood.

  Raymond E. Feist

  The patrol had handed off Gorath and Owyn to another detachment, who had escorted them to a camp in the Dimwood. For several miles, the bivouacked soldiers’ fires were visible. Gorath had observed that a significant portion of the Kingdom Army must be in the woods.

  Arutha sat at a command table, his Knight-Marshal Gardan at his side, looking at marks on a large map of the mountains leading to the North. Looking up as Gorath and Owyn were ushered into his presence, he said, ‘‘You look on the verge of collapse. Sit down.’’ He indicated a pair of camp chairs nearby.

  Owyn didn’t need a second invitation and sat heavily, while Gorath walked to the map and studied it. ‘‘Here,’’ he said, putting his finger on the spot designated Northwarden. ‘‘This is where Delekhan plans to assault your forces.’’

  Arutha was silent a long while, studying the moredhel. Finally, he said, ‘‘If you will forgive my caution, where is Squire James?’’

  Owyn said, ‘‘Sire, he left us to bring you word while he hurried to Northwarden, to carry warning to Baron Gabot. He gave us these documents.’’ He handed the documents to a soldier, who gave them to Knight-Marshal Gardan. Owyn filled them in on how they had uncovered and destroyed the nest of Nighthawks near Cavell Keep. He detailed James’s theory that Delekhan was planning on going by boat and portage from Northwarden to Romney, then straight overland to Sethanon.

  Arutha again was silent as he studied the documents. ‘‘These are much like those we saw when first you came to Krondor, Gorath. Then they claimed the attacks were in places like Tannerus and Yabon. What are we to believe?’’

  Gardan’s dark face was set in an expression of doubt. He said, ‘‘We hear you speak of leaving James at Cavell Keep, yet we intercept you coming south through the mountains, again.

  You picked a most indirect route to reach us, moredhel.’’

  ‘‘We had little choice, my lord,’’ replied Owyn. He explained about the capture and attempted to outline the chaotic conditions among the various clans of the North.

  When he finished, Arutha said, ‘‘You paint a picture of confusion and rival factions battling for control, yet our patrols 214

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  and advanced units see only a unified opposition, working in a coordinated fashion.’’

  ‘‘You see only those forces loyal to Delekhan south of the Teeth of the World, Prince Arutha,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘Clans who either oppose or resist him are either fleeing to refuges in the icebound mountains to the far north or seeking to travel near the Lake of the Sky south past the eledhel and dwarves to the Green Heart.’’

  Gardan said, ‘‘We have had reports from Duke Martin of heavier than usual sightings of bands of moredhel moving past the eastern boundary of Crydee, Highness. Martin says he’s seen signs of women and children, so they’re not war parties.’’

  Arutha said, ‘‘I am still dubious. I sent Locklear to Northwarden two weeks ago, to gather reports from the Border Barons to the east. He is going to Highcastle and Northwarden.

  He should return in another two weeks. If James is there, Locklear will return with word.’’

  Gorath said, ‘‘James said you might need to be convinced.

  He said to tell you . . .’’ He glanced at Owyn.

  ‘‘There’s a Party at Mother’s,’’ said Owyn.

  Arutha nodded. ‘‘ ‘And a good time will be had by all.’ It’s a Mockers’ password, used by James and me the first time we met.’’

  ‘‘Do you believe us now, Highness?’’ asked Owyn.

  ‘‘I believe that James believes this to be true,’’ said Arutha.

  He sat back, thinking. ‘‘I just hope he’s right.’’

  ‘‘Orders, Highness?’’ asked Gardan.

  ‘‘I have no choice. Either I trust James’s intelligence, or I don’t. I want a detachment left behind to secure this area, but the balance of the army is to march to Northwarden.’’

  Gardan studied the map. ‘‘Would it not be wiser to alert the King and muster the Army of the East to reinforce Gabot?’’

  ‘‘It would if the Army of the East was mustered, already.

  I’ll send a message to Lyam asking him to be ready to stand behind us, should Delekhan win past Northwarden. But we can be there faster than Lyam, so let us be expedient. Order camp broken at first light tomorrow.’’

  Gardan saluted and left the tent to give orders. Arutha said,

  ‘‘Tell me about The Six.’’

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  Owyn tried to
recall everything that was said about the mysterious magicians working for Delekhan. When at last he had finished, prodded by several acute questions from the Prince, Arutha said, ‘‘I have a mission for you two.’’

  Gorath said, ‘‘I would rather be on the wall at Northwarden, Highness, so that I might greet Delekhan as he deserves.’’

  ‘‘I have no doubt,’’ said Arutha. ‘‘But personal honor and debts of blood must be put aside. If we all fail, who will revenge us? I want you to go back to Krondor, to find Pug. If he is not there, and his wife Katala is, she will be able to reach him. If she has also gone, simply use a talisman Pug gave me for the purpose. The Princess knows it and how to use it, and when Pug comes, tell him of The Six. I think magic will play an even bigger part in this coming conflict, and I am ill prepared if we are to encounter such at Northwarden.’’

  ‘‘Cannot the boy alone do this?’’ asked Gorath.

  ‘‘Pug will have means to extract things from your memory you may have forgotten,’’ said Arutha. ‘‘But I doubt he can do such without your help.’’

  Gorath was silent a long while, then said, ‘‘Once this is done, I wish to return and fight.’’

  Arutha nodded. ‘‘I understand.’’ Then he paused. ‘‘No, I don’t understand. That was presumptuous. I know nothing of your race and what drives you.’’ He studied Gorath’s face a moment, as if trying to read something inside the moredhel chieftain. ‘‘But I would like the opportunity to learn sometime.

  I can appreciate the drive to right a wrong, personally. When you are finished with Pug, return and I will welcome your sword.’’

  Gorath said, ‘‘You are also more than I expected, Prince Arutha. I also would appreciate the opportunity to learn more of your people.’’ He glanced at Owyn. ‘‘Though this boy and the other have shown me a great deal already that has made me question much of my people’s attitudes toward your race.’’

  Arutha said, ‘‘That is a beginning. Perhaps one day we can have more.’’ He came around the table and extended his hand to Gorath, who took it. They shook hands, and it was more than a gesture.

 

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