James struggled. ‘I’ll see you in hell!’
The demon laughed. ‘I’ve been there. It really isn’t so bad if you’re used to it.’
The sounds of struggle echoed from outside the door, the clash of swords, the clatter of boot heels on stone, and suddenly the door was thrown open.
The demon waved her hand and before the door swung fully wide, the chains parted and James fell to the floor. He groaned in pain as he struck the stones and shook his head as William rushed in and saw the two of them, Jazhara cowering in the far corner, standing over the bodies of the governor and his wife, and James crouched on the floor, covered in blood, looking like some sort of animal.
‘Willy!’ James shouted.
‘Willy!’ shouted the demon. ‘It’s a demon: it’s taken possession of James!’
William stood motionless for a moment. James looked at him through puffy eyes. ‘Willy, don’t believe her. That’s not Jazhara!’
The demon hurried across the room, tears running down her cheeks. ‘Willy, don’t believe him. He has James’s memories. He will kill us when he gets the chance, then he’ll kill the prince!’
For what seemed an eternity William stood transfixed. He looked first at Jazhara, then at James. He weighed what his eyes beheld and knew he must make a murderous decision. He stepped toward James, and the demon came to stand behind him, her hand on his shoulder, as if seeking his protection.
Three Izmalis came into the room and stood behind William. They hesitated, unsure of what was going on. William looked at James, pain etched across his features, and he asked, ‘Must I?’
‘Yes!’ shouted the demon in William’s ear. ‘Kill him!’
James could barely answer. He whispered, ‘Yes.’ Taking a deep breath, he said, ‘Kill us both.’
William hesitated for one moment longer.
Then over William’s shoulder, James saw ‘Jazhara’ close her eyes as if in sudden pain and grab her forehead. Tears welled up and she let out a whimper. ‘William . . .’
The tone of her voice was enough to make William hesitate, then he heard her say, ‘I’m . . . lost . . . my love . . .’
With a scream of anger, the demon shook off Jazhara’s last attempt to defy her and shouted, ‘Kill him!’
For a long moment William seemed frozen, unable to move. Then suddenly he reversed his sword and, thrusting it behind him, plunged it into the stomach of the woman he loved.
Feeling the bite of steel, the demon screamed. As she crumpled to the floor, she asked, ‘How . . .?’
‘Jazhara would never call me “Willy”,’ he answered simply.
The demon threw back her head as the Izmalis drew their swords, not understanding what had happened, and then a cloud of foul, green smoke erupted from her mouth. They stepped back in horror, but William knelt, and when the smoke was gone, he raised Jazhara up and held her tightly.
After a moment, Jazhara’s eyes focused on William’s face and she whispered, ‘Thank you, my love.’ And then her head lolled to one side.
William stood there holding her lifeless body until James put an arm around his shoulder, helped him lower Jazhara gently to the floor, then led his friend away.
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN •
Krondor
ARUTHA LISTENED SILENTLY.
James finished the report, and Arutha was silent for a long moment, then said, ‘An ill thing, despite us putting an end to this Crawler business and the demon hoax behind it.’
William had stood motionless, his face a mask, while James had described the entire incident.
After killing the demon, they had waited until Jazhara’s kinsmen arrived. A cousin, one of Lord Hazara-Khan’s sons, installed himself as temporary Governor of Durbin until an appointment from the city of Great Kesh arrived. They had listened to the complete recounting of events and, upon seeing the governor and his wife’s bodies as well as that of Jazhara, and the dead would-be Nighthawks who had opposed the Izmalis and William, as well as hearing testimony from servants about the odd goings-on around the palace for the previous year or more, had reached the conclusion that things had occurred just as James had testified – his own beaten countenance had further persuaded them that the story was true.
It was a long and unhappy journey home from Durbin for James and William. Long hours of silence passed as they either stayed in their cabins or walked the decks of the ship hired to take them to Krondor. Killing the only woman he had truly loved hung heavy around William’s neck like a chain of iron, even though he knew it was the only choice he could have made. No matter how much James had tried to convince him that Jazhara had already been lost before he had arrived, he still could not rid himself of the memory of plunging his blade into her stomach.
At last Arutha said, ‘William, would you care to visit your family?’
William hesitated. ‘I’d prefer to return to duty as soon as possible, Highness.’
Arutha studied his face, then nodded once. ‘Dismissed. Report to Gardan.’
William saluted and departed.
When they were alone, Arutha pushed his chair away from his desk and said, ‘Do you think he’ll get over it?’
James shook his head. ‘No. Eventually, he would have let go of whatever guilt he felt about Talia – he was actually dealing with that well. But Jazhara . . .’ James let silence fall for a full minute, then added, ‘Had we not reached the Black Lake and found Silverthorn . . .’
Arutha said nothing, remembering when his wife Anita had hovered at the edge of death, her life sustained only by magic, as he and James and others had searched in the north for the plant that would provide the cure. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if willing away the haunting fear that they might never find the antidote and the consequence of failure he had carried with him from the moment she had been struck by the assassin’s crossbow bolt until the moment she was saved. It had been the worst time he could remember. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, ‘He’ll carry this one the rest of his life.’
James said, ‘I’m Willy’s friend. What do I do?’
‘You just continue as his friend, Jimmy. In this he is alone.’
Arutha stood and walked around his desk to stand before the former street-boy who had become one of his most valuable associates, and a close friend. ‘Sometimes all we can do is carry a thing, Jimmy. Sometimes the best we can do is not let that thing slow us down or deter us, but there are burdens we never put down.’ The prince paused, looking James in the eyes. ‘As his friends, all we can do is to help keep him going. For if he lets this stop him, he’ll never start again. He will find his life and purpose, and one day even some happiness, but this is something that will always mark him.’
James could only nod, knowing he was right.
Arutha added, ‘I think it best if we keep our young knight-lieutenant busy for a while.’
James smiled. ‘He’ll never admit it, but as much as he enjoys being a soldier, there’s a little bit of a rogue inside Willie, too.’
Arutha returned the smile, ruefully. ‘Speaking of rogues, I’m going to recall Locklear.’
James laughed. ‘If anyone can cheer Willy up, Locky’s the lad.’
‘I’m thinking of keeping you three close by. Let’s just say I may have some difficult tasks ahead, and if you can keep Locky from causing too much trouble, I think he would be a useful addition to your . . . whatever you’re calling your merry band.’
‘No name, Sire,’ said James.
‘Are you building me a spy network, Jimmy?’
‘The best I can, Highness.’
Arutha’s expression revealed he was caught between amusement and worry. Finally he said, ‘If you get too sure of yourself, remember Jazhara.’
James’s expression turned sombre. ‘I will, Highness.’
‘The game you play often has a high price. I fear, too high at times.’
‘But we must play, mustn’t we, Highness?’
‘I fear we must.�
� Arutha sighed. ‘Go, nose around the city and see what has happened while you’ve been away. I know you’re itching to, and you always seem to turn up something useful. I’m going to pen a message to Pug; even if he’s heard of Jazhara’s death from other sources, I need to tell him how sorry we are.’ With an almost pained expression, he added, ‘Then I must request he send us another magician.’
‘Whoever he sends, I’ll do my best to make sure this never happens again, Highness.’
Arutha nodded and gestured that Jimmy had his permission to withdraw.
James bowed slightly, and left the prince’s office. He walked briskly down the hall. William would do well under Gardan’s care for the time being. And within a few weeks Locklear would return and things would prove lively.
Despite his sadness at Jazhara’s death, he knew that he had uncovered one more piece of a very large and important puzzle. There was something out there that was a danger to them all, and James was determined to solve that puzzle.
He hurried through the palace, eager to return to the haunts and dives of the city he loved best.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
Magician
Silverthorn
A Darkness at Sethanon
Faerie Tale
Prince of the Blood
The King’s Buccaneer
Shadow of a Dark Queen
Rise of a Merchant Prince
Rage of a Demon King
Shards of a Broken Crown
Krondor: The Betrayal
Krondor: The Assassins
Krondor: Tear of the Gods
Talon of the Silver Hawk
King of Foxes
Exile’s Return
Flight of the Night Hawks
Into a Dark Realm
Wrath of a Mad God
Rides a Dread Legion
At the Gates of Darkness
A Kingdom Besieged
A Crown Imperilled
With Janny Wurts:
Daughter of the Empire
Servant of the Empire
Mistress of the Empire
With William R. Forstchen:
Honoured Enemy
With Joel Rosenberg:
Murder in LaMut
With Steve Stirling:
Jimmy The Hand
Acknowledgements
Besides my usual tip of the hat to the moms and dads of Midkemia, I’d like to add some people who were critical to the games upon which much of the Krondor series is based: John Cutter, Neal Halford, Bob Izrin, and St. John Bane. Without them, there would have been no Betrayal at Krondor or Return to Krondor. Along with these friends are the talented and dedicated people at Dynamix, 7th Level, and Pyrotechnix who put in killer hours to get out two fun games and give me nifty story elements to work with.
Copyright
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.
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Published by HarperVoyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 2013
Copyright © Raymond E. Feist 2013
Raymond E. Feist asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Source ISBN: 9780007511280
Ebook Edition © February 2013 ISBN: 9780007511297
Version 1
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