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By Honor Betray'd: Mageworlds #3 Mass Market Paperback – July 15, 1994

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Product Details

  • Mass Market Paperback: 416 pages
  • Publisher: Tor Science Fiction; Reissue edition (July 15, 1994)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0812517067
  • ISBN-13: 978-0812517064
  • Product Dimensions: 6.7 x 4.5 x 1.3 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 7.2 ounces
  • Average Customer Review: 4.8 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (5 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #1,348,065 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Editorial Reviews


"I haven't had such a good read in the subgenre since I was cutting my teeth on Heinlein and Poul Anderson and the like!"--Katherine Kurtz

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

By Honor Betray'D
OUT ON the farthest edge of Gyfferan-controlled space, the texture of the universe stretched and altered. Like a shadow against the stars, the flattened black teardrop shape of a Deathwing raider emerged from hyperspace. Minutes later a second ship appeared. This one displayed the bright colors and needle-sharp outline of a Space Force surface-to-hyperspace courier. Together, the mismatched pair began their realspace run toward the heart of the Gyfferan system.
On board Night's-Beautiful-Daughter--for so the Deathwing's log recordings had named the Magebuilt vessel--Mistress Llannat Hyfid wandered about the empty corridors, trying in vain to escape her own increasing inner tension.
Llannat was a small woman, dark-haired and brown-skinned, and her appearance these days implied enough contradictions to make anyone tense. She wore the black broadcloth tunic and trousers that were an Adept's formal garb; but her boots were Space Force standard issue, and instead of an Adept's plain wooden staff she carried the short,silver-bound ebony rod that was a Magelord's weapon and badge of rank. The crew members on board the Deathwing avoided her as much as possible, out of a respect that verged on superstitious awe.
The clothes and the staff don't help even a little with the main problem, she thought glumly. Her wanderings had taken her to the ship's galley, where the smell of fresh cha'a emanated from a bulky, squarish urn. We've got to make it to Gyffer without getting blown up by system defenses programmed to fire on "nervous."
Llannat had given the order for the hyperspace transit herself. At least, everybody else on board the Deathwing said that she had given it. She didn't recall doing any such thing; she'd been deep in a trance at the time, observing the structure of the universe through a Magelord's eyes.
And now I've got the whole damned crew looking at me' like they expect me to go crazy or work a miracle, or maybe both at once ... .
She abandoned her search for a mug and pressed the heels of her hands against her temples.
"I have a headache," she said aloud.
Her words sounded flat and dull against the echo-absorbent walls of the Deathwing's galley. She saw a movement in the doorway: Lieutenant Vinhalyn, Space Force reservist and scholar of Mageworlds language and culture, the acting captain of Night's-Beautiful-Daughter.
"We brought the emergency medikit over from Naversey," Vinhalyn said. "There may be something in there that can help you out."
"I don't think so. It's not that kind of an ache."
"If you're sure ..."
"I'm sure," she told him. "I'm a medic, remember?"
The expression on his face made it plain that he hadn't, in fact, remembered. Llannat shook her head, resigned.
"Never mind," she said. "I have trouble remembering it myself sometimes. Believe me, life was a whole lot easier when I was just Ensign Hyfid of the Space Force Medical Service."
Of course, that was before I started hearing voices thatweren't there and seeing things that hadn't happened yet and coming loose from my body while I was drifting off to sleep at night. Nobody asked me if I wanted all of that, but I got it anyway ... and the next thing I knew, there I was on a mountaintop on Galcen, with Master Ransome himself asking me if I wanted to join the Guild and be an Adept.
Llannat sighed. And like a fool, I said yes.
Vinhalyn looked at her. The scholar-reservist was an older man whose active service dated back to the end of the First Magewar, and he deferred to Llannat as he had to the Adepts of those earlier days. "If there's anything I can do to help ..."
"Not really," she said. "But thanks. Let me know when we make contact with Gyfferan Inspace Control."
Vinhalyn nodded and left.
Llannat watched him go, then went back to looking for a cup. When she found one, on a shelf where a half-dozen of the standard-issue plastic mugs from Naversey stood among the Deathwing's shorter, rounder ones, she poured herself some cha'a from the galley urn. What sort of hot drink the Mageworlders had brewed in the big metal pot she didn't know--maybe Vinhalyn did; she'd have to ask him about it sometime--but the Daughter's current crew had managed to adapt the filtration setup to produce cha'a of hair-curling strength.
She sipped at the steaming liquid. The Professor would have known what they used to brew on board the old Deathwings, she thought. He probably drank enough of it in his day.
"What's this 'probably' nonsense?" she muttered to herself. "The Prof owned this ship, galley and all."
He hadn't just owned it; that was the problem. The Professor--whose true name she had never learned, and doubted that anyone living had ever heard--had been a Magelord himself before he abandoned sorcery and gave his oath to the ruling House of Entibor. What kept Llannat Hyfid awake during the night and made her pace the ship's corridors during the day was knowing that the Professor had intended Night's-Beautiful-Daughter for her.
First his staff, she thought. Then his ship. What other little bequests does he have for me that I haven't found yet?
The original legacy had come to Llannat blamelessly enough. She'd lost her own staff in the fighting on Darvell, the same day the Professor had died, and Beka Rosselin-Metadi--in an impatient, almost unthinking gesture--had given her the dead man's staff as a replacement. Master Ransome, who hated the Magelords as he hated nothing else in the civilized galaxy, wasn't likely to be pleased with Llannat if he ever found out. In the end, however, an Adept's choice of staff was a personal decision. Not even the Master of the Guild could force her to alter it.
The ship was something else again. The Professor had emptied Night's-Beautiful-Daughter to vacuum and left her to drift. When the derelict raider turned up in the Mageworlds Border Zone, the pilot and copilot were still on board--five hundred years after the Professor had cut their throats and left Llannat Hyfid a message written in their blood.
"Adept from the forest world: bring this message to She-who-leads ... ."
Those were the words as Llannat remembered them, from the waking dream in which she had relived the Professor's deed. Lieutenant Vinhalyn, however, had translated the blood-scrawled characters somewhat differently: "Find the Domina."
But the Domina was dead.
"Domina of Entibor," said Beka Rosselin-Metadi. She jerked the twisted iron tiara out of her hair and threw it across the room onto the rumpled bedsheets. On Suivi Point appearances were everything; the acting government of Entibor-in-Exile kept its front office ready for official visitors, even early and unexpected ones, by throwing all the clutter into the living quarters at the back. "Leader of the Second Resistance. Hope of the Galaxy. It stinks like a load of rotten fish guts."
"Gently, Captain," Nyls Jessan advised. Beka's copilot and number-one gunner was lean and fair-haired, with greyeyes and pleasant, if ordinary, features. He smiled at her. "Gently. When did you ever smell rotten fish guts, anyway?"
"Sapne, in the main port-market. I told you the place was a pestilential sinkhole, remember?"
"I remember." Jessan moved up behind her and began taking the pins out of her long yellow hair. "If you're thinking about Tarveet of Pleyver, the comparison is certainly apt. But you don't have to like him--"
"I know, I know," said Beka, as the intertwined plaits came free and fell down one by one. "'Just work with him.' Mother used to say the same thing."
Jessan kept on unbraiding her hair; his fingers moved warmly against her neck, making it hard for her to concentrate. With an effort, she gathered her thoughts and went on.
"How did Tarveet get to Suivi Point, anyway? Why the hell couldn't the Mages have snapped him up on Galcen along with the rest of the Grand Council?"
"That would have been nice," agreed Jessan. "I suspect that the esteemed councillor was already here visiting his money when everything fell apart."
"Taking some cash out for a walk, more likely." Beka frowned. "I wonder who he was planning to buy with it."
"Before the Mageworlds invaded? He could have been after almost anybody." Jessan paused, and his hands came to rest lightly on Beka's shoulders. She leaned back against him; his breath caught for a second before he continued, "At least now he's willing to give some of it to us."
"And we can't afford to be choosy." She sighed. "I know. Tarveet needs a Resistance fleet to protect his investments for him, and we need all the backers we can get. But a fleet's the only thing his money is going to buy; I hope he isn't expecting me to come along with it."
She felt Jessan's grip tighten and then relax. "If the esteemed councillor from Pleyver makes that particular mistake," her copilot said, his High Khesatan accent more marked than usual, "then I will disabuse him of the notion."
"Poor Nyls." She shook her head. "I do believe that Tarveet managed to get under your skin."
"Well ... somewhat."
"'Somewhat.'" Beka turned to face Jessan. In spite of herself, she smiled. "You do a really good look of exquisite disdain, did you know that?"
"Just one of my many talents," he said.
"Ah." She regarded him thoughtfully. "You have others?"
"So I'm told."
"That's nice." Her finger traveled down his shirtfront, teasing open the fasteners along the way. "Tell me about them."

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8 of 8 people found the following review helpful By Arthur W. Jordin on January 21, 2003
Format: Mass Market Paperback
By Honor Betray'd (1994) is the third novel written in the original Mageworlds trilogy. At this time, however, it is the sixth of the series in internal chronological sequence, following Starpilot's Grave. In the previous book, the Magelords have taken Galcen, the marines have joined Jos Metada, Commodore Jervas Gil has pulled together the Mageworlds fleet at Ophel, Ari Rosselin-Metada has fled Admiral Vallant to Gyffer, Llannat Hyfid has brought her motley crew and the deathwing Night's-Beautiful-Daughter to Gyffer, and Beka Rosselin-Metada has declared herself as the new Domina of Lost Entibor and the focal point of the resistance. Moreover, Owen Rosselin-Metada has found Errec Ransome imprisoned by the Mages, has proven his mastery, and has to been told to retrieve his staff and claim the Guild Mastership.

In this novel, Grand Admiral Theio syn-Ricte sus-Airaalin tries to break Errec's defenses, but fails. At Gyffer, Ari and Llannat join with local defense forces against Admiral Vallant and the Mages. Within Infabede sector, Jos captures warships from Vallant and decides to attack Galcen. At Suivi Point, Beka incorporates the local RSF squadron into the resistance fleet, Tarveet of Pleyver takes out a treason contract against her, and Ignaceu LeSoit breaks several regulations, and the docks, getting Warhammer away from Contract Security. On Nammerin, Owen and his apprentice, Klea Santreny, take ship to Pleyver to fight Mages. At Waycross on Innish-Kyl, Commodore Gil negotiates with former privateers to form a fleet around his three capital ships.

The Grand Admiral knows that he has a little cleaning up to do, but believes that the war is almost won.
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6 of 7 people found the following review helpful By A Customer on July 9, 1997
Format: Mass Market Paperback
This book has everything to be a space adventure, but it is far more than that. This is a classic combination of action and adventure with characters and plot. If I could think of a better book to tell you about I would. Quite simply, The Mageworlds is the best series I have ever read and I have read several thousand. If you want everything in a book, look no farther
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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful By Alan M Rogers on May 18, 2011
Format: Mass Market Paperback
The third book of the original Mageworlds trilogy, BY HONOR BETRAY'D (By Honor Betray'D (Mageworlds, Book 3)) is the fantastic conclusion to a fantastic series.

When STARPILOT'S GRAVE ended, the Mageworlds' fleet had won; their surprise attack had taken down interstellar communications, they'd broken the Adepts Guild and the Republic's capitol world had fallen. The Resurgence and their Magelords had done almost everything they'd set out to do.

Except break the Rosselin-Metadi family. Beka, Ari and Own are still at large and causing trouble, to say nothing of their father, Jos Metadi, who had beaten the Mages once already. Metadi's protege, Jervas Gil still has a few ships and Llannat Hyfid, the Adept who just might be a Mage has her own Magebuilt Deathwing - and maybe the Professor's mission (whatever it was.)

This book finishes the tale started in THE PRICE OF THE STARS, revealing more and more of the complex web of conflicting loyalties, conflicting cultures and conflicting beliefs. I've said it for the other two books - this is what space opera was meant to be. Doyle and MacDonald finish this trilogy in a spectacular way - the big reveal and the finale are absolutely amazing. The 'big reveal' and the final answers and resolution to the death of Perada Rosselin and everything her assassination set into motion are unpredictable and well worth the wait.

This series defined a genre for me and I know it will for you, too.
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful By BookWyrm on December 1, 2013
Format: Paperback
This third book brings the Second Mage War to an exciting and satisfying conclusion. The plot threads wound through the other books mostly get caught up neatly and woven tidily into this final book. There are some exciting twists and turns in characters and their loyalty (some that have been hinted at in other books and a few new ones), that make the ending very interesting.

There were a few things that felt a little too pat, put in just to make everything fit together well. Owen's apprentice is one of these things. I never really felt that she fit into the story, for all that she's proved useful on several occasions. This happened in the previous books as well, but overall the story and writing are good enough that these little things don't bother me, except as a "well, that part could have been a bit better".

I'm looking forward to reading the prequel books about the First Mage War.
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4 of 5 people found the following review helpful By G. S. A. Estus on May 22, 2002
Format: Mass Market Paperback
Love the people and the action. Want more of the same.
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