Raymond Feist - Into a Dark Realm

Book Two of The Darkwar

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

HarperVoyager An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published HarperVoyager 2006

Copyright © Raymond E. Feist 2006

Cover Illustration © Nik Keevil

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

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, 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 ebooks

HarperCollins Publishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication

Source ISBN: 9780007133796

Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2012 ISBN: 9780007381418

Version: 2018-11-14

This one is for Janny, Bill, Joel, and SteveFor sharing their talents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Map

Chapter One: Chase

Chapter Two: Oracle

Chapter Three: Aftermath

Chapter Four: Nighthawks

Chapter Five: Preparation

Chapter Six: Honest John’s

Chapter Seven: Deathknight

Chapter Eight: New Directions

Chapter Nine: Roldem

Chapter Ten: Purging

Chapter Eleven: Delecordia

Chapter Twelve: Enemies

Chapter Thirteen: Change

Chapter Fourteen: Celebration

Chapter Fifteen: The White

Chapter Sixteen: Lord

Chapter Seventeen: Warriors

Chapter Eighteen: Feast

Chapter Nineteen: Kosridi

Chapter Twenty: Crucible

Chapter Twenty-One: Betrayal

Chapter Twenty-Two: Revelations

Keep Reading

Continue the Adventure …

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by the Author

About the Publisher

A WOMAN SCREAMED IN OUTRAGE.

Three young men overturned carts and pushed aside shoppers as they crashed through the evening market. Their leader – a tall, rawboned youth with red hair – pointed to the retreating back of their prey and shouted, ‘There he goes!’

Night approached the port city of Durbin as desperate men raced through the streets. Merchants pulled prized wares from tables as three young warriors shoved anyone and anything blocking their pursuit. In their wake they left consternation, curses and threats; all of which they ignored.

The summer heat of the Jal-Pur desert still clung to the walls and cobbles of the city, despite the slight breeze off the sea. Even the harbour gulls were content to stand idly by and watch for any morsel that might fall from a passing vendor’s cart. The more ambitious among them would launch themselves into the air and soar for a moment or two, hanging languidly on the heat rising from the dock stones, then quickly return to stand quietly near their brethren.

The evening markets were crowded, for most of the inhabitants of Durbin had spent the blistering afternoon resting in the shade. The city’s pace was leisurely, for these were the hottest days of summer, and men who lived on the desert’s edge knew better than to struggle needlessly against the elements. Things were as the gods willed.

So the sight of three armed and apparently dangerous young men pursuing another, while hardly a remarkable experience in Durbin, was unexpected given the season and the time of day. It was just too hot to be running.

The man attempting to flee was, from his look, a desertman: swarthy and dressed in a baggy shirt and loose-fitting pantaloons, a midnight blue headdress and open robe, his feet clad in low-topped boots. Those who followed were led by a northerner, probably from the Free Cities or the Kingdom of the Isles. His ginger hair was uncommon in the Empire of Great Kesh.

His companions were also young men, one broad-shouldered and dark of hair, the other blond and of slighter build. They were all sunburned and dirty and had hard expressions that added years to their appearance. Their attentions were fixed on their quarry and their weapons were easily at hand. They were dressed in garb that marked them as men from the Vale of Dreams – breeches, linen shirts, riding boots and leather vests instead of robes and sandals. They were most likely mercenaries, a likelihood accentuated by their grim determination.

They reached a boulevard that led to the docks, and the man fleeing dodged between merchants, shoppers and dockmen heading home for the night. The leader of those in pursuit paused for an instant then said, ‘He’s heading for the grain-shippers’ dock.’ With a hand gesture he sent his blond-haired companion up a side street, then motioned for the darker youth to come with him.

‘I hope you’re right,’ said the shorter man. ‘I’m getting tired of all this running.’

With a quick glance that showed a grin, the leader said, ‘Too much time sitting in alehouses, Zane. We need to get you back to the Island and Tillingbrook’s tender mercies.’

Too out of breath to comment, the shorter youth just made a sound that clearly indicated he found that remark utterly lacking in humour, as he quickly wiped perspiration from his brow. He had to hurry just to keep up with his taller companion.

The inhabitants of Durbin were practised when it came to dealing with duels, brawling, gang wars, riots, and all other manner of civil disorder. By the time Jommy and Zane reached the corner around which they had seen their quarry vanish, the alarm had outstripped them, and the street leading to the docks was almost deserted. Passers-by, merchants, and seamen bound for nearby inns and taverns had sensed coming trouble and vanished into whatever scant cover they could manage. Doors closed, shutters slammed, and those that couldn’t get inside did their best to find shelter.

As Jommy Killaroo kept his eyes on the tiny figure of their fleeing target, Zane con Doin glanced into every passed doorway, alley entrance or other cover for potential ambush. All he saw were citizens of Durbin hunkering down, waiting for the trouble to pass.

Jommy saw their man duck around a corner at the end of the boulevard, and said, ‘Right towards Tad if he’s as fast as he usually is!’

Zane grinned. ‘He is. Suri won’t escape.’

For a month Jommy, Tad and Zane had been on the trail of this man, an erstwhile trader named Aziz Suri, a desertman from the Jal-Pur who was reputedly an importer of spices and oils from the Free Cities. He was also reputed to be a freelance spy, broker in information, trader in secrets, and a close contact of the Nighthawks, the Guild of Death. One month earlier, at the Emperor of Kesh’s Midsummer’s Festival, a plot to destabilize the Empire and plunge it into civil war had been prevented by agents of the Conclave of Shadows, and now they were seeking out the remaining pockets of assassins, to put an end finally to their centuries’ long reign of terror.