Darkness at sethanon pdf download

Want more? Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! But then word comes to Squire Jimmy - formerly Jimmy "the Hand" of the Mockers - that the Nighthawks, assassins who served the moredhel leader Murmandamus, have returned to Krondor.

Strange things are happening in the north, and circumstances force Arutha into an alliance with a black enemy from his past against a common foe. Meanwhile, Pug has returned to Midkemia strengthened by his time with the eldar on Kelewan, and he brings word that their true foe is something more than a powerful moredhel sorcerer. Dragging his childhood friend Tomas - who was once in danger of becoming the Valheru Ashen-Shugar - along with him, Pug travels through time and space itself to search out the key to the dark mysteries that are gathering the players in this cosmic drama to a small fortress town called Sethanon.

There are no reviews yet. With measured steps and rustling red and black robes of office, the tall, dignified Master of Ceremonies crossed to stand behind Jimmy, technically his first assistant after the Steward of the Royal Household, but most often his biggest problem.

Squire Jerome is in his quarters, excused for injury. Toward this cause, I think it also appropriate to discourage a newly emerging trend, namely, wagering upon the outcome of barrel-ball matches played on Sixthday. Do I make myself clear? Make no mistake, that is an order. So much interest among the staff and minor nobility had arisen over this game that Jimmy had been frantically trying to discover a way he could charge admission. There might be a high price to pay should Master deLacy discover Jimmy had already bet on the match, but Jimmy felt honour had been satisfied.

DeLacy had said nothing about existing wagers. Master deLacy quickly went over the schedule prepared the night before by Jimmy. Whatever task Jimmy undertook he did well; getting him to undertake the task was usually the problem.

As soon as the ceremony is complete you are excused duty for the rest of the day, so those of you with families here will be free to stay with them. That will be all. Locklear shook his head. Nearly as quick as Jimmy, Locklear was second only to him among the squires in swordsmanship. Together they were the two best ball handlers in the palace, and with both out of the match, it was a near certain victory for the apprentices.

Locklear winced. The squires had been pooling their silver and gold for months in anticipation of this match. He considered. What held you up this time? Suddenly their company and good opinion of him were vital. Given his upbringing and knowledge, especially compared to those of the other squires in court, Jimmy was worldly beyond his years.

The former thief had been making his presence known among the younger serving girls of the palace for several months. Marianna was simply the most recent to catch his fancy and be swept off her feet by the clever, witty and handsome young squire.

He was getting taller by the week, it seemed, almost as tall as Jimmy now. His wavy, blond-streaked brown hair and cornflowerblue eyes framed by almost feminine lashes, his handsome smile, and his friendly, easy manner had all made him popular with the younger girls of the palace. Come on. One old servant looked up from his dusting to watch the boys racing along and for a moment reflected on the magic of youth. The crowd cheered as the heralds began their march down the steps of the palace.

They cheered, in part, because they would now be addressed by their Prince who, while somewhat aloof, was well respected and counted evenhanded with justice. They cheered, in part, because they would see the Princess whom they loved.

She was a symbol of continuation of an old line, a link from the past to the future. The Festival of Presentation was conducted thirty days following the birth of any member of the royal family. How it began remained a mystery, but it was commonly held that the ancient rulers of the city-state of Rillanon were required to show the people, of every rank and station, that the heirs to the throne were born without flaw. As Jimmy took his place behind the heralds, he realized that someone always had to work.

Someone had to prepare all the food being served today, and someone had to clean up tonight. And he had to stand ready to serve Arutha and Anita should they require it. Sighing to himself, he considered again the responsibilities that seemed to find him no matter where he hid.

The grey-haired soldier, his black face set in an amused expression, nodded to the portly Chancellor, then signalled to Master deLacy to begin. Hearken to me! Arutha was the sort of man who inspired deep respect and admiration, not affection, in the populace. A tall, rangy, dark-haired man entered, dressed in muted brown clothing of fine weave, his shoulders covered with the red mantle of his office.

He paused, his brown eyes narrow, while the herald announced the Princess. When the slender, red-headed Princess of Krondor joined her husband, the merry glint in her green eyes caused him to smile, and the crowd began to cheer in earnest.

While the actual ceremony would be quickly over, the introduction of nobles took a great deal longer. A cadre of palace nobles and guests was entitled to public presentation. The first pair of these was announced. They had arrived in Krondor a week before, to see their nephews, and would stay another week. On and on droned the herald as other members of the nobility were introduced and, finally, visiting dignitaries, including the Keshian Ambassador.

Lord Hazara-Khan entered with only four bodyguards, forgoing the usual Keshian pomp. The Ambassador was dressed in the style of the desert men of the Jal-Pur: cloth head cover that left only the eyes exposed, long robe of indigo over white tunic and trousers tucked into calf-high black boots. The bodyguards were garbed from head to toe in black. Arutha spoke the ritual words of the Presentation.

Today we present our sons. The nurse selected to care for the boys came forward and gave her charges over to their mother and father. Both babies endured the public showing with good grace, though Erland showed signs of becoming fussy. The crowd continued to cheer, even after Arutha and Anita had returned their sons to the care of the nurse.

Arutha graced those gathered below the steps with another rare smile. They are fit to rule. Do you accept them as sons of the royal house? Arutha waved to the crowd. Until the feasting, I bid you all good day. Locklear was formally a junior squire, but he was so often given duty with the Princess that he was commonly considered her personal squire. Jimmy suspected deLacy of wanting to keep himself and Locklear together so watching them would be that much easier. The Prince threw Jimmy a distracted half-smile as he watched his wife and sister fuss over the twins.

The Keshian Ambassador had removed his traditional face covering and was smiling at the sight. His four bodyguards hovered close. Healthy babies are a gift of the gods.

And they are sons. And two of them. It is an unexpected benefit having you with us this year. I have little love for the prospect of facing you across the negotiating table again. Each was dressed entirely in jet, even to the scabbards of their scimitars, and while their costuming was similar to that of the desert men, it was different from anything Arutha had seen of Keshians.

They serve as personal protection, nothing more. The izmalis were famous as bodyguards, the finest protection available to the nobility of the Empire of Great Kesh, but rumour had it they were also highly trained spies and, occasionally, assassins. Their abilities were nearly legendary. They were reputed to be everything just short of ghosts in their ability to come and go undetected. Arutha disliked having men only one step away from assassins within his walls, but Abdur was entitled to his personal retinue, and Arutha judged it unlikely the Keshian Ambassador would bring anyone into Krondor who might be dangerous to the Kingdom.

Besides himself, Arutha added silently. Arutha looked openly amazed. Then his expression changed to one of irritation. You two scoundrels drew duty today? Arutha noticed his wife instructing the nurse to return the twins to their nursery. Long tables stood heavily laden with food and drink, and for many in attendance this was the finest meal they would eat this year.

While formality was forgotten, the commoners were still deferential to Arutha and his party, bowing slightly and using formal address. Jimmy and Locklear hovered nearby, in case they were needed. Carline and Laurie walked arm in arm behind Arutha and Anita. And now with two boys A servant hastened to present wine cups to the ladies.

Compared to you a fleet of Quegan raiders is dull. With Caldric dead, Lyam will rely more upon you and Martin than before. Arutha shrugged as he sampled food from his plate. Too many nobles are seeking advantage over their neighbours. This is a holiday. Tonight we enjoy what we have. Anita threw her husband a questioning glance. They left the central courtyard of the palace and passed along a series of halls connecting the central palace complex with outer buildings.

Behind the palace stood a large marshalling yard, near the stables, where the palace guards drilled. A large crowd had gathered and was cheering lustily when Arutha, Laurie, Jimmy and Locklear arrived. They worked their way toward the front, jostling spectators. A few turned to complain to those shoving past but, seeing the Prince, said nothing.

A place was made for them behind those squires not playing. Arutha waved to Gardan, who stood on the other side of the field with a squad of off-duty soldiers. He wrote up rules for the game, after complaining to me about the number of boys too beat up to work after a match. He times the contest. The game lasts an hour now. Only a dozen boys to a side at a time, and they must play between those chalk lines on the ground. Jimmy, what are the other rules? When one side scores, it falls back past the midpoint line and the other side gets to bring the ball up.

No biting, grabbing an opponent, or weapons allowed. Sounds too tame for me. The squire groaned. They dashed onto the field, replacing two dirty, bloody squires. Locklear, who had stationed himself there, quickly kicked it back to Jimmy, to the surprise of the several apprentices who bore down upon him. Lightning-fast, Jimmy passed them before they could recover, ducking an elbow aimed at his head.

The ball struck the edge and bounced out, but Locklear broke free of the pack and kicked the rebound in. The squires and a large number of minor nobles were on their feet cheering.

Now the apprentices led by only one count. A minor scuffle broke out and the judges quickly intervened. With no serious damage having been done, play resumed. The apprentices brought the ball up; Locklear and Jimmy fell back. One of the larger squires threw a vicious block, knocking a kitchen boy into the one with the ball. Jimmy pounced like a cat, kicking the ball toward Locklear.

The smaller squire deftly moved it upfield, passing it on to another squire who immediately kicked it back as several apprentices swarmed over him. A large stableboy rushed Locklear. He simply lowered his head and took Locklear, himself, and the ball across the field boundary rather than trying to tackle the ball. At once a fight broke out and, after the judges had separated the combatants, they helped Locklear to his feet.

The boy was too shaken to continue, so another squire took his place. As both players had been beyond bounds, the judge ruled the ball free and tossed it into the centre of the field. Both sides attempted to recover the ball as elbows, knees and fists flew.

Jimmy took off after him and seeing no hope of intercepting the ball, launched himself at the boy, repeating the technique used against Locklear. Again the judge ruled the ball free and another riot ensued at midfield. The ball bounced to Squire Friedric, who passed it to Jimmy. Jimmy expected another rush from the apprentices, but was surprised as they fell back. This was a new tactic, employed against the lightning passing Jimmy and Locklear had brought to the game.

The squires on the sidelines shouted encouragement. Jimmy swept to the left and then dropped the ball back to Friedric, who moved back toward midfield. Jimmy cut to his right, then took a well-aimed pass from Friedric toward the barrel. He dodged a sliding tackle and kicked the ball into the barrel. The crowd shouted in appreciation, for this match was bringing something new to barrelball: tactics and skill. In what was always a rough game, an element of precision was being introduced.

Then another fight broke out. The judges rushed to break it up, but the apprentices were unbending in their reluctance to end the scuffle. Locklear judged himself fit enough to return and replaced a boy injured in the scuffle.

Jimmy waved his squires back, quickly whispering instructions to Locklear as the apprentices slowly brought the ball up. They attempted the passing demonstrated by Jimmy, Friedric, and Locklear, but with little skill.

They nearly kicked the ball out of bounds twice before regaining control of errant passes. Then Jimmy and Locklear struck. Locklear feigned a tackle toward the ball handler, forcing him to pass, then darted toward the barrel.

Jimmy came sweeping in behind, the others acting as a screen, and picked up the badly passed ball, kicking it toward Locklear. The smaller boy took the ball and broke toward the barrel.

Then the apprentice took something from his shirt and threw it at Locklear. To the surprised onlookers, it seemed the boy simply fell face down and the ball went out of bounds. Jimmy rushed to the side of his comrade, then suddenly was up and after the boy who was attempting to bring the ball onto the field.

With no pretence of playing a game, Jimmy struck the apprentice in the face, knocking him back. Again a fight erupted, but this time several apprentices and squires from the two sides joined the fray. Think I should do something? The seasoned fighting men quickly restored order. No winners. Arutha and Laurie followed. Say in a week or two. Something in the crowd caught his eye.

The one in the blue tunic and grey cap? But I know him. May I go and investigate? Laurie and I will be returning to the great hall. He halted and looked about, then noticed the familiar figure standing near a narrow stairway into a side entrance.

The man leaned against the wall, hidden in shadows, eating from a platter. He only glanced up when Jimmy approached. Squire James of Krondor, Alvarny the Quick. Though I was quick in my day. He was no common errand runner but one of the most highly placed and trusted aides of the Upright Man.

My master says that birds of prey, thought gone from the city, have returned from the north. He closed his eyes a moment and made a satisfied sound.

Then his eyes were on Jimmy, narrowing as he spoke. You had promise. To the heart of the message. Young Tyburn Reems was found floating in the bay. There are places near where smugglers used to ply their trade; one is a place that smells and is of little importance to the Mockers and, therefore, is neglected. It may be that is where such birds are hiding. Jimmy did not hesitate.

He dashed back to where Arutha had been only a few minutes before and, not finding him, headed for the great hall. The number of people before the palace made it difficult to move quickly. Seeing hundreds of strange faces in the corridors suddenly filled Jimmy with alarm. In the months since Arutha and he had returned from Moraelin with Silverthorn to cure the stricken Anita, they had become lulled by the commonplace, everyday quality of palace life.

Struggling past celebrants, he hurried on. Jimmy darted through the press of nobles and other less distinguished guests in the great hall. Near the dais a clot of people were deep in conversation.

Laurie and Carline were speaking with the Keshian Ambassador, while Arutha mounted the steps toward his throne. A band of acrobats was hard at work in the centre of the hall, forcing Jimmy to skirt the clearing made for them, while dozens of citizens looked on in appreciation.

As he moved through the press, Jimmy glanced up at the windows of the hall, the deep shadows within each cupola haunting him with memories. He felt anger at himself as much as anyone. He above all others should remember what a menace could lurk in such places.

Anita was nowhere in sight. Jimmy glanced at her empty throne and inclined his head. Nighthawks have returned to Krondor. He exposed one high in the Mockers to public scrutiny. Second, there is — was — a young gambler by name Tyburn Reems who was often seen about in the city.

He had some special dispensations from the Mockers. He was permitted things few men not of our guild are permitted.

Now I know why. He was a personal agent of my former master. Reems is now dead. They are once again hidden somewhere in the city. Now he turned to look at Arutha and words failed him. Several nearby had turned to stare at him. Common sense dictates you retire to your suite early, for if ever there was a golden chance to get close to you, it is now. You may find them waiting between here and your own quarters.

Anita and the babies! Carline and Laurie saw something was wrong and followed. Within moments a dozen people trailed behind the Prince as he hurried down the corridor. Gardan had seen the hasty exit and had fallen in beside Jimmy.

He grabbed at the sleeve of the first guard he met in the hall, motioning for another to follow. When Arutha reached the door to his quarters, he hesitated a moment, as if fearful to open the door.

Pushing open the door, he discovered Anita sitting next to the cribs wherein their sons slept. She looked up and at once an expression of alarm crossed her features. It will be a treat for her. We again have Nighthawks to worry about. The last assassination attempt had nearly cost her life. Jimmy advises I keep in quarters until the palace is free of strangers. Good advice, but I must remain on public view a while longer. The Nighthawks think us ignorant of their return.

We cannot let them think otherwise, yet. Others had been moved away by a company of the Royal Household Guard. Next to Gardan, Captain Valdis waited. Guard them well. Should any inquire, say Her Highness is feeling poorly and I am staying with her for a while. If you must, search all night. But as soon as you can, find Trevor Hull and bring him here. The Fiddler Crab Inn was a haunt of many who wished a safe harbour from questions and prying eyes.

As the sun began to set the room was crowded with locals, so Jimmy was at once the source of curiosity, for his clothing marked him out of place. A few native to the city knew him by sight — after the Poor Quarter, the docks had been a second home to him — but no small number of those in the inn marked him as a rich boy out on the evening, perhaps one with some gold to be shaken loose.

Jimmy came around in a fluid movement, and the man found the point of a dirk levelled at his throat. But others began to circle the squire. Jimmy knew at once he had made an error. Still, once begun, such a confrontation could not be aborted. Jimmy backed up, seeking to place his back to a wall. His expression was hard and revealed no hint of fear, and a few who surrounded him suddenly understood that here was someone who knew his way about the docks.

One turned and indicated with his head a back door. Jimmy hurried toward it and pulled aside the hanging cloth cover. A group of men sat gambling in a large, smoke-filled room. From the pile of betting markers on the table, it was for high stakes.

The game was lin-lan, common to the southern Kingdom and northern Kesh. A colourful display of cards was unfolded and players bet and dealt in turn, determining odds and payoffs by which cards were turned. Among the gamblers were two men, one with a scar from forehead to chin, running through a milk-white right eye, and the other a bald, pock-faced man.

Aaron Cook, the bald man and first mate on the customs cutter Royal Raven, looked up as Jimmy pushed toward the table. He nudged the other man, who sat regarding his cards with disgust, throwing them down. Jimmy spoke loudly, over the noise in the room. After the Riftwar, Arutha had pardoned Hull and his crew for past crimes and had enlisted them in the Royal Customs Service.

Hull and Cook stood as one and left the table. One of the other gamblers, a heavyset merchant of some means by his dress, spoke around a pipe. Jimmy winced as men around the table began to curse and throw in their cards.

I just wanted to take some wind out of his sails. The only fair thing would be to leave the bets out and redeal the entire hand, a prospect not appreciated by those with good cards left to play. Outside of the inn, they hurried along the streets, past celebrants as the festival began to pick up while afternoon shadows lengthened. Arutha stood looking down at the maps on the table. The maps were from his archives, provided by the royal architect, and showed the streets of Krondor in detail.

Another, showing the sewers, had been used before in the last raid against the Nighthawks. For the past ten minutes Trevor Hull had been carefully studying them all. Hull had headed the most prosperous gang of smugglers in Krondor before taking service with Arutha, and the sewers and back alleys had been his means of bringing contraband into the city.

Hull conferred with Cook, then the older man rubbed his chin. His finger pointed at a spot on the map where a dozen tunnels came together in a near-maze. Halfway along the curve the docks ended and the warehouse district began, but also nestled against the water was a small section of the Poor Quarter, like a pieshaped wedge driven between the more prosperous trading areas. Hull nodded. Used to be a fishing village a long time ago.

Mostly lobstermen and mussel raters who work the bay, or dam diggers who work the beaches north of the city. So he thinks of Fish Town as well. There are maybe a dozen conduits leading up from the docks to Fish Town.

And Fish Town is worse. The older fisher families are independent and tough, almost clannish. If someone took up residence in one of the old shacks near the docks, kept to himself Even the Mockers only get silence from the Fish Town folk when they ask questions. Should the Nighthawks have infiltrated slowly, no one but the locals might have a hint. Half the buildings shown here are burned down. People do funny things sometimes, even assassins. It being a festival day, their sentries will probably not expect someone nosing around.

And, with the city in celebration, there will be lots of noises filtering down from the streets. Odd and out-of-place sounds will be less likely to alert anyone below the buildings.

But I need to go at once. No, Jimmy knew what bothered him was his concern for the safety of others. The palace is crawling with strangers. Performers and guests will be going in and out of the gates. Everyone will be half-drunk, tired from a daylong celebration, and feeling very relaxed.

If you stay alert you should be safe enough while I snoop around. Quickly Trevor Hull and his first mate followed, leaving a troubled, seething Prince alone with his thoughts. Arutha sat back, balled fist held before his mouth as his eyes stared off into nothing. He had faced the minions of Murmandamus near the Black Lake, Moraelin, but the final contest was yet to come.

Arutha cursed himself for becoming complacent over the last year. Beyond the great ranges lay the Northlands. There Murmandamus marshalled his forces. And from that seat far to the north he was reaching down again to touch the life of the Prince of Krondor, the Lord of the West, the man fated by prophecy to be his undoing, the Bane of Darkness. Should he live. And again Arutha found himself struggling within the confines of his own demesne, the battle carried to his own door.

Striking his palm with his fist, Arutha voiced a low, harsh curse. To himself and whatever gods listened, he vowed that when this business in Krondor was finished, he, Arutha conDoin, would carry the struggle northward to Murmandamus. The darkness hid a thousand treasures amid a million pieces of worthless garbage. The waters in the sewers flowed slowly, and often large clumps of debris would gather in a jam called a tof.

The tofsmen who picked over such floating refuse earned their living gleaning valuables lost into the sewers. They also kept the refuse flowing by breaking up the jams of garbage that threatened to back up the sewers. Little of this concerned Jimmy, save that a tofsman was standing less than twenty feet away. The young squire had dressed all in black, save for his old, comfortable boots.

Beneath the black he wore more simple garb, needed to blend into the Poor Quarter. The tofsman looked directly at the boy several times, but for all his peering, Jimmy did not exist.

For the better part of half an hour, Jimmy had stood motionless in the deep shadows of an intersection, while the old tofsman picked over the smelly mess passing by. Jimmy even more fervently hoped the tofsman was real and not a disguised Nighthawk lookout.

Finally the man wandered off, and Jimmy relaxed, though he did not move until the tofsman had had ample time to vanish down a side tunnel.

Then, with stealth bordering on the unnatural, Jimmy crept along the tunnel toward the area below the heart of Fish Town. Down a series of tunnels he travelled silently.

Even as he stepped into water, he managed to disturb it only slightly. The gifts of nature — lightning-fast reflexes, astonishing coordination, and the ability to make decisions, to react nearly instantaneously — had been augmented by training from the Mockers and forged in the harshest furnace: the daily life of a working thief. Jimmy made each move as if his life depended upon remaining undetected, for it did. Down the dark conduits of the sewers he journeyed, his senses extended into the darkness.

He knew how to ignore the faint sounds coming down from the streets above and how the slight echoes, of rippling water rebounding from the stonework should sound; the slightest variation would warn of anyone lurking out of view. The noisome air of the sewer masked any potentially warning odours, but the air was almost motionless, so he would have a betraying hint of movement close by should anyone suddenly come at him.

A sudden shift in the air, and Jimmy froze. Something had changed, and the boy immediately shrank down into the sheltering darkness of a low, overhanging brickwork. From a short distance ahead, he heard the faint grind of leather on metal and knew someone was descending a ladder from the street above. A slight disturbance in the water caused the boy to tense. Someone had stepped into the sewer and was walking in his direction, someone who moved almost as silently as he. Jimmy hunkered down, as small as he could make himself in the dark, and watched.

In the gloom, black against black, he could half-see, half-sense a figure moving toward him. Then, from behind, light showed and Jimmy could see the approaching man. He was slender, wearing a cloak, and armed. The man in the sewer was Arutha — or at least resembled him enough to fool any but his closest intimates.

Jimmy held his breath, for the bogus Prince was passing only a few feet away. Whoever followed shut the lantern, and darkness enveloped the tunnel, hiding Jimmy from discovery again.

Then he heard the second man pass. Listening for sounds indicating others, Jimmy waited until he felt certain no one else was coming. He quickly, but quietly, rose from his hiding spot and went to where the two men had emerged from the gloom. Three tunnels intersected, and he would have to spend time determining which had provided entrance to the sewers for the false Prince and his companion.

Jimmy weighed his options briefly, then placed the need to follow the pair above the need to discover the entrance to the sewer employed. Jimmy knew this part of the sewers as well as any in Krondor, but if he fell too far behind he would lose them. He slipped through the dark, listening at each intersection for the sounds that told him where his quarry moved.

Through the murky passages under the city the boy hurried, slowly overtaking the two men. Feist pdf. Please note that the tricks or techniques listed in this pdf are either fictional or claimed to work by its creator. We do not guarantee that these techniques will work for you. Some of the techniques listed in A Darkness At Sethanon may require a sound knowledge of Hypnosis, users are advised to either leave those sections or must have a basic understanding of the subject before practicing them.

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