Copyright
HarperVoyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2000
Copyright © Raymond E. Feist
Cover design by Dominic Forbes © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Raymond E. Feist asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008311278
Ebook Edition © January 2018 ISBN: 9780007352449
Version: 2018-11-13
Dedication
For Bob Ezrin,
who else?
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Prologue: Attack
Chapter One: Arrival
Chapter Two: Schemes
Chapter Three: Vow
Chapter Four: Secrets
Chapter Five: Monsters
Chapter Six: Intrigues
Chapter Seven: Conspiracy
Chapter Eight: Kendaric
Chapter Nine: Diversion
Chapter Ten: Goblins
Chapter Eleven: Haldon Head
Chapter Twelve: Dark Magic
Chapter Thirteen: Misdirection
Chapter Fourteen: Vampire
Chapter Fifteen: Two Fangs
Chapter Sixteen: Temple
Chapter Seventeen: Black Pearl
Chapter Eighteen: Tear of the Gods
Epilogue: Challenge
Acknowledgements
About the Author
By the same author
About the Publisher
Map
PROLOGUE
Attack
THE WEATHER WORSENED.
Dark clouds roiled overhead as angry lightning flashed, piercing the nights blackness on all quarters. The lookout atop the highest mast of the ship Ishaps Dawn thought he saw a flicker of movement in the distance and squinted against the murk. He tried to use his hand to shield his eyes as the salt spray and biting cold wind filled them with tears. He blinked them away and whatever movement he thought he had seen was gone.
Night and the threat of storms had forced the lookout to spend a miserable watch aloft, against the unlikely chance the captain had drifted off course. It was hardly possible, considered the lookout, as the captain was a knowledgeable seaman, chosen for his skill at avoiding danger as much as any other quality. And he knew as well as any man how hazardous this passage was. The Temple held the cargos value second to none, and rumours of possible raiders along the Quegan coast had dictated a hazardous tack near Widows Point, a rocky area best avoided if possible. But Ishaps Dawn was crewed by experienced sailors, who were now closely attentive to the captains orders, and each was quick to respond, for every man aloft knew that, once upon the rocks at Widows Point, no ship survived. Each man feared for his own life that was only natural but these men were chosen not only for their seamanship, but also for fealty to the Temple. And they all knew how precious their cargo was to the Temple.
In the hold below, eight monks of the Temple of Ishap in Krondor stood around a most holy artifact, the Tear of the Gods. A jewel of astonishing size, easily as long as a large mans arm and twice as thick, it was illuminated from within by a mystic light. Once every ten years a new Tear was formed in a hidden monastery in a tiny secret valley in the Grey Tower Mountains. When it was ready and most holy rites completed, a heavily armed caravan transported it to the nearest port in the Free Cities of Natal. There it was placed upon a ship and carried to Krondor. From there, the Tear and an escort of warrior monks, priests, and servants would continue on, eventually reaching Salador to then be taken by ship and transported to the mother Temple in Rillanon where it replaced the previous Tear, as its power waned.
The true nature and purpose of the sacred gem was known only to the highest ranking among those serving within the Temple, and the sailor high atop the main mast asked no questions. He trusted in the power of the gods and knew that he served a greater good. And he was being handsomely paid not to ask questions as much as to stand his watch.
But after two weeks of battling contrary winds and difficult seas, even the most pious man found the blue-white light which shone every night from below, and the monks incessant chanting, nerve-wracking. The duration of the unseasonable winds and unexpected storms had some of the crew muttering about sorcery and dark magic. The lookout offered a silent prayer of thanks to Killian, Goddess of Nature and Sailors (and then added a short one to Eortis, who some said was the true God of the Sea) that come dawn they would reach their destination: Krondor. The Tear and its escort would quickly leave the city for the east, but the sailor would remain in Krondor, with his family. What he was being paid would allow him a long visit home.
The sailor above thought of his wife and two children, and he smiled briefly. His daughter was now old enough to help her mother around the kitchen and with her baby brother, and a third child was due soon. As he had a hundred times before, the sailor vowed hed find other work near home, so he could spend more time with his family.