the distance . . . and direction.’’
71
Raymond E. Feist
‘‘What?’’ asked Gorath. ‘‘You don’t know where a light is?’’
‘‘I can help,’’ said Owyn. A moment later a faint nimbus of light started to glow around the young man’s right hand, and it grew until they could see a dozen paces in all directions.
‘‘How did you do that?’’ asked Locklear.
Owyn held out his left hand. On it was a ring. ‘‘I took it off Nago. It’s magic.’’
‘‘Which way?’’ asked Gorath.
‘‘This way,’’ said Locklear, leading them into the sewers of Krondor.
‘‘Where are we?’’ whispered Owyn.
Locklear lost his sure tone as he said, ‘‘I think we’re just north of the palace.’’
‘‘You think?’’ said Gorath with a snort of contempt.
‘‘All right,’’ said Locklear with a petulant tone. ‘‘So I’m a little lost. I’ll find—’’
‘‘Your death, quick and messy,’’ said a voice from outside the range of Owyn’s light.
Three swords cleared their scabbards as Locklear tried to pierce the gloom beyond the light by force of will.
‘‘Who be you and what would you in the Thieves’ Highway?’’
Locklear cocked his head at the bad attempt at a formal challenge and, judging the owner of the voice to be a youth, he answered, ‘‘I be Seigneur Locklear, and I do whatever I will in the Prince’s sewers. If you’re half as intelligent as you’re trying to sound, you’ll know not to bar our way.’’
A young boy stepped forward from the shadows, slender and wearing a tunic too large for him, wrapped around the waist with a rope belt, trousers he had almost outgrown, and sporting a pointed felt cap. He carried a short sword. ‘‘I’m Limm and fast with a blade. Step any farther without my leave, and your blood will flow.’’
Gorath said, ‘‘The only thing you’ll do is die, boy, if you don’t stand aside.’’
If the towering presence of the moredhel chieftain had any effect on the lad, he hid it as he bravely said, ‘‘I’ve bested better than you when I was a boy.’’ He stepped back, cau-72
KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
tiously. ‘‘And besides, I’ve got five bashers back there waiting for my call.’’
Locklear held up his hand to restrain Gorath. ‘‘You remind me of a young Jimmy the Hand,’’ said Locklear. ‘‘Full of blus-ter as well as guile. Run off and there’s no need for anyone’s blood to flow.’’ Softly to Gorath he said, ‘‘If he has bashers nearby, we don’t need the trouble.’’
‘‘Jimmy the Hand, is it?’’ asked Limm. ‘‘Well, if you’re friends of Seigneur James, we’ll let you pass. But when you see him, tell him he had better come soon, or the deal is off.’’
Before Locklear could answer, Limm was deep in shadows, so silently they could barely hear him move. From a distance he said, ‘‘And watch your step, Locklear who knows Jimmy the Hand. There are nasty customers nearby.’’ As the voice faded, Limm added, ‘‘And you’re completely turned around. Turn to the right at the next culvert, and straight on until you reach the palace.’’
Locklear waited, listening for more. But only silence punctuated by the trickling sound of water and the occasional echo of some distant sound in the sewer could be heard.
Gorath said, ‘‘That was passing strange.’’
‘‘Yes,’’ agreed Owyn.
‘‘More than you know,’’ said Locklear. ‘‘That boy was waiting for my friend James. And James has the death mark on him from the Mockers if he ever trespasses their territory. That was a deal struck by Prince Arutha for James’s life years ago.’’
Owyn said, ‘‘Sometimes agreements change.’’
‘‘Or are broken,’’ added Gorath.
Locklear said, ‘‘Well, we’ll sort this out later. Right now we need to find our way to the palace.’’
‘‘What did he mean by ‘nasty customers nearby’?’’ asked Owyn.
‘‘I don’t know,’’ answered Locklear.
71
Raymond E. Feist
‘‘What?’’ asked Gorath. ‘‘You don’t know where a light is?’’
‘‘I can help,’’ said Owyn. A moment later a faint nimbus of light started to glow around the young man’s right hand, and it grew until they could see a dozen paces in all directions.
‘‘How did you do that?’’ asked Locklear.
Owyn held out his left hand. On it was a ring. ‘‘I took it off Nago. It’s magic.’’
‘‘Which way?’’ asked Gorath.
‘‘This way,’’ said Locklear, leading them into the sewers of Krondor.
‘‘Where are we?’’ whispered Owyn.
Locklear lost his sure tone as he said, ‘‘I think we’re just north of the palace.’’
‘‘You think?’’ said Gorath with a snort of contempt.
‘‘All right,’’ said Locklear with a petulant tone. ‘‘So I’m a little lost. I’ll find—’’
‘‘Your death, quick and messy,’’ said a voice from outside the range of Owyn’s light.
Three swords cleared their scabbards as Locklear tried to pierce the gloom beyond the light by force of will.
‘‘Who be you and what would you in the Thieves’ Highway?’’
Locklear cocked his head at the bad attempt at a formal challenge and, judging the owner of the voice to be a youth, he answered, ‘‘I be Seigneur Locklear, and I do whatever I will in the Prince’s sewers. If you’re half as intelligent as you’re trying to sound, you’ll know not to bar our way.’’
A young boy stepped forward from the shadows, slender and wearing a tunic too large for him, wrapped around the waist with a rope belt, trousers he had almost outgrown, and sporting a pointed felt cap. He carried a short sword. ‘‘I’m Limm and fast with a blade. Step any farther without my leave, and your blood will flow.’’
Gorath said, ‘‘The only thing you’ll do is die, boy, if you don’t stand aside.’’
If the towering presence of the moredhel chieftain had any effect on the lad, he hid it as he bravely said, ‘‘I’ve bested better than you when I was a boy.’’ He stepped back, cau-72
KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
tiously. ‘‘And besides, I’ve got five bashers back there waiting for my call.’’
Locklear held up his hand to restrain Gorath. ‘‘You remind me of a young Jimmy the Hand,’’ said Locklear. ‘‘Full of blus-ter as well as guile. Run off and there’s no need for anyone’s blood to flow.’’ Softly to Gorath he said, ‘‘If he has bashers nearby, we don’t need the trouble.’’
‘‘Jimmy the Hand, is it?’’ asked Limm. ‘‘Well, if you’re friends of Seigneur James, we’ll let you pass. But when you see him, tell him he had better come soon, or the deal is off.’’
Before Locklear could answer, Limm was deep in shadows, so silently they could barely hear him move. From a distance he said, ‘‘And watch your step, Locklear who knows Jimmy the Hand. There are nasty customers nearby.’’ As the voice faded, Limm added, ‘‘And you’re completely turned around. Turn to the right at the next culvert, and straight on until you reach the palace.’’
Locklear waited, listening for more. But only silence punctuated by the trickling sound of water and the occasional echo of some distant sound in the sewer could be heard.
Gorath said, ‘‘That was passing strange.’’
‘‘Yes,’’ agreed Owyn.
‘‘More than you know,’’ said Locklear. ‘‘That boy was waiting for my friend James. And James has the death mark on him from the Mockers if he ever trespasses their territory. That was a deal struck by Prince Arutha for James’s life years ago.’’
Owyn said, ‘‘Sometimes agreements change.’’
‘‘Or are broken,’’ added Gorath.
Locklear said, ‘‘Well, we’ll sort this out later. Right now we need to find our way to the palace.’’
‘‘What did he mean by ‘nasty customers nearby’?’’ asked Owyn.
‘‘I don’t know,’’ answered Locklear.
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