Rage of a Demon King
Raymond E. Feist
Contents
Acknowledgments
Cast of Characters
Maps
Book III The Mad God’s Tale
Prologue: Breakthrough The wall shimmered.
1 Krondor Erik signaled.
2 Warning Erik fumed.
3 Queg Roo scowled.
4 Relationships Dash laughed.
5 Elvandar Tomas sat motionless.
6 Infiltration Calis pointed.
7 Schemes Roo nodded.
8 Evolution Miranda spoke.
9 Plots Erik shifted his. . .
10 Dedication Miranda yawned.
11 Alarm Erik ran.
12 Midsummer Roo pointed.
13 Improvisation Calis knelt.
14 Betrayal Roo frowned.
15 Onslaught Erik frowned.
16 Battles Erik signaled.
17 Destruction Erik swore.
18 Delay A loud rumble. . .
19 Catastrophe Roo grimaced.
20 Decisions Miranda paced.
21 Escalation Erik watched.
22 Ravensburg Erik smiled.
23 Retreat Erik shouted.
24 Darkmoor Calis studied the. . .
25 Revelations Drums sounded.
26 Confrontation Erik fought.
27 Truth A battle raged.
28 Rebirth Erik shivered.
Epilogue: Consequences Fadawah frowned.
A Selection from Shards of a Broken Crown
About the Author
Books by Raymond E. Feist
Praise for The Serpentwar Saga
Copyright
About the Publisher
Acknowledgments
For reasons far too complex to detail, I am indebted to the following people:
To William Wright, Lou Aronica, and Mike Greenstein, for bringing order out of chaos and getting the program pointed in the right direction.
To Adrian Zackheim, for getting me to Hearst Books; Robert Mecoy, for keeping the inertia heading in the right direction and being the world’s most indefatigable cheerleader; Liz Perle McKenna, for taking time from a very busy schedule to keep a perplexed author informed; and John Douglas, for some timely hand-holding. All were my editors for a while during that chaos.
To Jennifer Brehl, my editor, for hitting the ground running and not missing a step.
To everyone else at Hearst Books/Avon Books, for getting behind the series.
To Jonathan Matson, for all the usual reasons.
To my children, Jessica and James, for showing me magic every day.
And to my wife, Kathlyn Starbuck, for more reasons than I could ever list here.
—Raymond E. Feist
Rancho Santa Fe, California
June 1996
Cast of Characters
ACAILA—leader of the eldar, in the Elf Queen’s court
ALFRED—corporal from Darkmoor
AGLARANNA—Elf Queen in Elvandar, wife of Tomas, mother of Calin and Calis
AKEE—Hidati hillman
ANDREW—priest of Ban-Ath in Krondor
ANTHONY—magician at Crydee
AVERY, ABIGAIL—daughter of Roo and Karli
AVERY, DUNCAN—cousin to Roo
AVERY, HELMUT—son to Roo and Karli
AVERY, KARLI—wife of Roo, mother of Abigail and Helmut
AVERY, RUPERT “ROO”—young merchant of Krondor, son of Tom Avery
BORRIC—King of the Isles, twin brother to Prince Erland, father of Prince Patrick
BROOK—First Officer, Royal Dragon
CALIN—elf heir to the throne of Elvandar, half brother to Calis, son of Aglaranna and King Aidan
CALIS—“The Eagle of Krondor,” special agent of the Prince of Krondor, Duke of the Court, son of Aglaranna and Tomas, half brother to Calin
CHALMES—ruling magician at Stardock
D’ LYES, ROBERT—magician from Stardock
DE BESWICK—Captain in King’s army
DE SAVON, LUIS—former soldier, assistant to Roo
DOLGAN—king of the dwarves of the west
DOMINIC—Abbot of Ishapian Abbey at Sarth
DUBOIS, HENRI—poisoner from Bas-Tyra
DUGA—mercenary captain from Novindus
DUKO—general in the Emerald Queen’s army
DUNSTAN, BRIAN—the Sagacious Man, leader of the Mockers, used to be known as Lysle Rigger
ERLAND—brother to the king and Prince Nicholas, uncle to Prince Patrick
ESTERBROOK, JACOB—wealthy merchant of Krondor, father of Sylvia
ESTERBROOK, SYLVIA—Jacob’s daughter
FADAWAH—general commanding the Emerald Queen’s army
FREIDA—Erik’s mother, wife of Nathan
GALAIN—elf in Elvandar
GAMINA—adopted daughter of Pug and sister of William, wife of James, mother of Arutha
GARRET—corporal in Erik’s Company
GRAVES, KATHERINE “KITTY”—girl thief in Krondor
GREYLOCK, OWEN—captain in Prince’s service, later General
GUNTHER—Nathan’s apprentice
HAMMON—lieutenant in King’s army
HANAM—Lorekeeper of the Saaur
HARPER—sergeant in Erik’s company
JACOBY, HELEN—widow of Randolph Jacoby, mother of Natally and Willem
JAMES—Duke of Krondor, father to Arutha, grandfather to James and Dash
JAMESON, ARUTHA—Lord Vencar, Baron of the Prince’s
Court and son of Duke James
JAMESON, JAMES “JIMMY”—elder son of Arutha, grandson of James
JAMESON, DASHEL “DASH”—younger son of Arutha, grandson of James
KALIED—ruling magician at Stardock
LIVIA—daughter of Lord Vasarius
MARCUS—Duke of Crydee, cousin to Prince Patrick, son of Martin
MARTIN—former Duke of Crydee, great uncle to Prince Patrick, father of Marcus
MILO—owner of the Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg, father of Rosalyn
MIRANDA—magician and ally of Calis and Pug
NATHAN—blacksmith at the Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg, former master of Erik, married to Freida
NAKOR THE ISALANI—gambler, magic user, friend of Calis and Pug
NICHOLAS—Admiral of the Western Fleet, Prince of the Royal Family, uncle to Prince Patrick
PATRICK—Prince of Krondor, son of Prince Erland, nephew to the King and Prince Nicholas
PUG—magician, Duke of Stardock, cousin to the King, father to Gamina and William
REEVES—captain of Royal Dragon
ROSALYN—Milo’s daughter, wife of Rudolph, mother of Gerd
RUDOLPH—baker in Ravensburg, husband of Rosalyn, stepfather to Gerd
SHATI, JADOW—sergeant in Erik’s company
SHO PI—former companion of Erik and Roo’s, student of Nakor’s
SUBAI—captain of the Royal Krondorian Pathfinders
TITHULTA—Pantathian High Priest
TOMAS—Warleader of Elvandar, husband of Aglaranna, father of Calis, inheritor of the powers of Ashen-Shugar
VASARIUS—Quengan noble and merchant
VON DARKMOOR, ERIK—soldier in Calis’s Crimson Eagles
VON DARKMOOR, GERD—son of Rosalyn and Stefan von Darkmoor, nephew to Erik
VON DARKMOOR, MANFRED—Baron of Darkmoor, half brother to Erik
VON DARKMOOR, MATHILDA—Baroness of Darkmoor, mother to Manfred
VYKOR, KAROLE—admiral of the King’s Eastern Fleet
WILLIAM—Knight-Marshal of Krondor, Pug’s son and Gamina’s adopted brother, uncle to Jimmy and Dash
Maps
For Stephen A. Abrams,
who knows more about Midkemia than I do
Book III
The Mad God’s Tale
We are the music makers,
We are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams—
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
We are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
—Arthur William Edgar O’Shaughnessy
ODE, ST. 1
PROLOGUE
Breakthrough
The wall shimmered.
In what had once been the throne room of Jarwa, last Sha-shahan of the Seven Nations of the Saaur, the thirty-foot-high wall of stones opposite the empty seat of power seemed to waver, then vanish as a black void appeared. Nightmare creatures gathered, things of terrible fangs and poisonous claws. Some wore the faces of dead animals, while others were humanlike in aspect. Some bore proud wings, antlers, or bull’s horns. All were beings of massive muscle and evil intent, dark magic and murderous nature. Yet all in the hall remained motionless, terrified of that which was appearing on the other side of the newly created gateway. Demons who stood as tall as trees crouched low trying not to be seen.
Immense energy was required to open a gate, and for years the demons had been thwarted by the accursed priests of the distant city of Ahsart. Only when the mad High Priest had unsealed the portal, admitting the first demon to deny his city to the conquering host of the Saaur, was the barrier breached.
Now the world of Shila lay in tatters, the remaining life reduced to lowly creatures at the sea bottom, lichen clinging to rocks upon distant mountain peaks, and tiny creatures that scuttled under rocks to avoid detection. Anything larger than the smallest insect had been devoured. Hunger now gripped the demon host, and again they returned to their ancient habit of feeding upon one another. But internecine conflict was put aside among the elite of the host as a new gate from the Fifth Circle to Shila was completed, opening the way for the supreme ruler of the demon realm to communicate.
The demon without a name stood at the edge of those summoned to this once-grand hall. He peeked out from behind a stone column, lest he call attention to himself. He had captured a unique soul and had been harboring it, using it, becoming cunning and dangerous. For unlike most of his brethren, he had discovered guile worked better than confrontation in gaining valuable life force and intelligence. He still showed the proper mix of fear and danger to those directly above him, enough fear so they judged him under their sway, yet dangerous enough for them to avoid attempting to consume him. It was a perilous pose, and had he made one misstep, calling attention to his uniqueness, those captains nearby would have destroyed him utterly, for his mind was turning alien and was now self-aware enough to be a threat to all of them.
This demon knew he could easily defeat at least four of the demons who presumed superiority and stood before him, but to rise too quickly among the host was to call unwanted attention to oneself. He had, during his short life, seen no fewer than a half-dozen others rise too quickly, only to be destroyed by one of the great captains, either against that day they might themselves be challenged, or to protect a favored servant.
Mightiest of these captains was Tugor, First Servant of Great Maarg, who was now making his will known. Tugor fell to his knees, placing his forehead to the floor, and others followed his lead.
The demon without a name heard a faint voice and knew it came from the soul he had captured, and he tried to ignore it, but it always said something he knew to be important. “Observe,” he heard in his mind, as if it were a faint whisper in his ear, or a thought of his own.
A great rush of energies bathed the room as the shimmering wall seemed to ripple outward, then vanish as a gate to the home realm opened. A wind filled the chamber, from air sucked through the gap between worlds, as if everything in this hall was being urged to return to its home realm. By their nature, demons instinctively felt an awareness of those far mightier than themselves, and being close to Tugor caused the nameless demon to nearly faint in terror. But the presence that emanated through the rent in the fabric of space nearly reduced him to babbling incoherence.
All those present stayed on their knees, keeping foreheads to the stones, save the nameless demon, still hidden behind the column. He watched as Tugor stood to face the void. From within the gap in the wall came a voice that was filled with the echoes of rage and dread. “Have you found the way?”
Tugor said, “We have, most mighty! We have sent two of our captains through the rift to Midkemia.”
“What do they report?” demanded the voice from beyond, and in it the nameless demon detected a note of something besides anger and power, a hint of desperation, perhaps.
“Dogku and Jakan do not report,” responded Tugor. “We know nothing. We believe they are unable to hold the portal.”
“Then send another!” ordered Maarg, Ruler of the Fifth Circle. “I will not cross until that way is clear; you’ve left nothing upon this world that I may consume. Next time I open the way, I will cross, and if there is naught for me to devour, I will eat your heart, Tugor!” The sound of air being sucked from the room ceased as the rift between the worlds closed. Maarg’s voice hung in the air as the shimmering vanished and the wall was as it had been before.
Tugor rose up and shouted in rage, venting his frustration. The others stood slowly, for now would not be a good time to draw the attention of the second most powerful among their race. Tugor had been known to snap the heads from the shoulders of those who appeared to be growing too powerful, so that no rival would appear who might contest his position. It was even rumored that Tugor harbored his strength against the day when he might challenge Maarg for supremacy among the race.
Tugor turned and said, “Who goes next?”
Without quite knowing why, the nameless demon came forward. “I will go, lord.”
Tugor’s visage, a horse skull with great horns, was nearly expressionless, but what expression it was capable of reflected puzzlement. “Who are you, little fool?”
“I have no name yet, Master,” said the nameless one.
Tugor took two large strides, pushing aside several of his captains, to stand towering over the small demon. “I have sent captains, who have failed to return. Why should you succeed where they did not?”
“Because I am meek and will hide and observe, Master,” the nameless one said quietly. “I will gather intelligence, and I will stay hidden, harboring my strength, until I can reopen the portal from the other side.”
Tugor paused a moment, as if considering, then drew back his hand and struck the smaller demon, driving him across the room into the wall. The demon had small wings, not yet sufficient to fly with, and they felt as if they had been broken by the impact of the stone wall.
“That is for being presumptuous,” said Tugor, his rage just below the killing level.
“I shall send you,” he said to his next most powerful captain. Then he spun and grabbed another, ripping out the hapless demon’s throat as he screamed, “And this is for the rest of you for not showing as much courage!”
Some of the demons at the edge of the group turned and fled the hall, while others fell to the stones, throwing themselves on the mercy of Tugor’s whim. He was satisfied with killing one of his brethren, and drank blood and life energy for a moment, before tossing aside the now-empty husk of flesh.
“Go,” said Tugor to the captain. “The rift is in the distant hills, to the east. Those who guard it will tell you what you must know to return . . . if you are able. Return, and I will reward you.”
The captain hurried from the hall. The small demon hesitated, then followed, ignoring the fiery pain in his back. With food and rest, the wings would heal. As he left the palace he was challenged twice by other demons driven by hunger. He quickly killed them. Drinking their life energies caused the pain in his wings to fade, and as before, new thoughts and ideas manifested themselves. He suddenly knew why he was following the capt
ain sent to reopen the rift.
The voice that had once come from the vial he wore around his neck, but that was now inside his head, said, “We shall endure, then thrive, then we shall do what must be done.”
The little demon hurried to the rift site, the location of the fissure between worlds where the last of the Saaur horde had fled. The little demon had learned things and knew that somehow an ally had betrayed the demons, that this gate was to have remained open, but instead had been closed. Twice it had been forced open, but closed again quickly, for those on the other side used counterspells to keep the portal sealed. At least a dozen powerful demons had died at Tugor’s hands because of the host’s inability to cross.
The captain reached the portal site as a dozen other demons surrounded him. They were there to aid the captain in the crossing. Unnoticed, the little demon followed the larger as if accompanying him.
The rift site was unremarkable, a large patch of muddy earth, the grass crushed by the passing of thousands of Saaur horses and riders, their wives and children accompanying them. Most of the grass surrounding the rift was withered and blackened by the tread of demons, but tiny patches of green could be seen here and there. Should the rift remain closed much longer, even those tiny sources of life energy would be sought out and devoured. Squinting his eyes, the tiny demon saw the strange twist in the energy that hung in the air, difficult to notice unless one specifically looked for it.
What the Saaur and other mortal races called magic was but a shifting of life energies to the demons, and some of these might die in opening the rift. Until the wards on the other side were removed, it would be impossible to keep the rift open for more than a few seconds at a time, and many demons would die to achieve even two or three such passages. No demon gave his life willingly—it was not in their nature—but all feared Tugor and Maarg, and harbored the hope it would be the others in their company who paid the ultimate price, while they survived to gain reward.
