Krondor the Betrayal by Raymond E. Feist Read Free Book Online Page A

He indicated the body.
    Locklear said, ‘‘Hurry back down the trail and see if you can find him. If he’s heading back toward LaMut, we’ll have to ride in rotation. I don’t want to be slowed any more than necessary.’’
    As Owyn ran off, Gorath said, ‘‘Why don’t you leave him behind?’’
    Locklear studied the moredhel’s expression as if trying to read him, then at last he said, ‘‘It’s not our way.’’
    Gorath laughed mockingly. ‘‘My experience with your kind tells me otherwise.’’
    Locklear said, ‘‘Then it’s not my way.’’
    Gorath shrugged. ‘‘I can accept that.’’ He set to examining the corpse at Locklear’s feet, and after a moment said, ‘‘This is interesting.’’ He held out an object for Locklear’s examination.
    ‘‘What is this?’’ asked Locklear, looking at a multifaceted stone of an odd blue hue.
    ‘‘A snow sapphire.’’
    ‘‘Sapphire!’’ said Locklear. ‘‘It’s as big as an egg!’’
    ‘‘It’s not a particularly valuable stone,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘They are common north of the Teeth of the World.’’
    ‘‘So it’s, what? A keepsake?’’
    ‘‘Perhaps, but when a war party leaves our homeland, we travel light. Weapons, rations, extra bowstrings, and little else.
    We easily live by forage.’’
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    Raymond E. Feist
    ‘‘Maybe this isn’t a war party?’’ suggested Locklear. ‘‘Maybe they live around here?’’
    Gorath shook his head. ‘‘The last of my people south of the Teeth of the World lived in the Grey Towers, and they fled to the Northlands with the coming of the Tsurani. None of my race has lived this near the Bitter Sea since before the Kingdom came to these mountains. No, while not of my clan, these are from the Northlands.’’ He put the gem in his belt pouch and continued to examine the bodies.
    Time passed, and finally Owyn put in an appearance, leading his horse. ‘‘Damn all horses,’’ he swore. ‘‘He made me chase him until he got bored.’’
    Locklear smiled. ‘‘Next time, don’t fall off.’’
    ‘‘I didn’t plan on it this time,’’ said Owyn.
    Gorath said, ‘‘We need to hide these.’’ He pointed to the four dead moredhel. He picked up one and carried it a short way down the trail, then unceremoniously threw the corpse over the side of a ravine.
    Owyn looked at Locklear, and the young magician tied his horse’s reins to a nearby bush. He picked up the feet of the nearest corpse while Locklear lifted the creature under the shoulders.
    Soon all four bodies were consigned to the ravine hundreds of feet below. Locklear mounted as did Gorath and Owyn.
    Leaving for the time being the mystery of why these moredhel were waiting at this lonely spot on a rarely used trail, they rode on.
    Loriel appeared before them, a small city—really a large town—nestled into the large valley which ran eastward. Another valley intersected from the south.
    Gorath said, ‘‘We need food.’’
    ‘‘A fact of which my stomach is well aware,’’ answered Locklear.
    Owyn said, ‘‘Not that I’m in a hurry to face my father, but this is turning into a roundabout journey, Squire.’’
    Locklear pointed to the southern valley. ‘‘There’s a road through there that’s a very straight course to Hawk’s Hollow.
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    KRONDOR THE BETRAYAL
    From there we have our choice of routes, south along a narrow ridge trail, or southwest back to the King’s Highway.’’
    Gorath said, ‘‘And then to Krondor?’’
    ‘‘And then to Krondor,’’ agreed Locklear. ‘‘Something in all this is making what my friend Jimmy calls his ‘bump of trouble’ itch like I’ve been attacked there by fleas.
    ‘‘Gorath, this stolen ruby, the Tsurani magicians, all of it is somehow . . . more than coincidence.’’
    ‘‘How?’’ asked Owyn.
    ‘‘If I knew,’’ said Locklear, ‘‘we wouldn’t be stopping off to visit Mr. Alescook. He may know something or know someone who knows what