Talon of the Silver Hawk (24 page)

“No, I'm just doing as I was told.''

“By whom?''

“Master Maceus. He said I would stay through the summer until you finished a dozen different portraits of me, then I was to return to the estate for other duties.''

“What about me?” Talon asked.

“He said nothing about what you would do after I leave. I'll tell him you've finished the paintings, and I'm certain he'll come and view the last two, then tell you what is next.''

Talon positioned himself by the door. “Wait until the rain is over.''

“I can't,” she said, starting to move by him.

“Wait!” He seized her upper arm. “A moment.''

She looked up at him with eyes devoid of any warmth. “What?''

“What about us?''

“What about us?” she repeated.

“I mean, I love you.''

With a tone that could only be called impatient, Alysandra replied, “Talon, you're a sweet boy and I had fun this summer, but love had nothing to do with what passed between us. I like men and enjoy the games of men and women. I think I've improved your education in that area quite a bit, but if you think it's because I love you, you're mistaken. Sadly mistaken.”

A tingling flush rose in Talon's cheeks, and his eyes felt as if they were filling with tears, but no moisture gathered. It was as if someone had struck him a blow to his belly with a mace. He felt short of breath. His mind raced, and he
fought to make sense of what he had just been told, but he could not find the words. “Wait,” he repeated softly.

“For what?” she asked, opening the door and stepping into the rain. “For you to grow up? I hardly think so, boy. You've a stallion's constitution, and you've learned to pleasure me, but when I wed it will be with someone of importance, a powerful man who will shower me with riches and protect me and my children.

“And love will never be even a remote consideration.”

With that she turned and disappeared down the path past the lake, while Talon stood gripping the doorjamb so hard that finally he heard a crack of wood. He stared down at his palm and saw that there were splinters embedded in it, and then he gazed out into the deepening storm.

Not since awakening in Robert's wagon had he felt so bereft of anything joyful. For the second time in his life he felt as if every good thing he had cherished had been taken from him.

Talon groaned.

He had lain on his bed for two days, getting up only to relieve himself and drink water. He felt weak and unfocused, as if suffering a fever. His thoughts wandered, and he relived Alysandra's last words to him over and over in his mind.

A hand shook him again.

“What?” he said, forcing himself out of his numb doze, to find Magnus standing above him.

“It is time for you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Talon sat up and his head swam. He tried to focus his eyes.

“When did you last eat?” Magnus asked.

“Yesterday, I think.''

“More like three days ago,” said the magician. He rummaged around near the hearth and returned with an apple. “Here, eat this.''

Talon took a bite and felt the juices run down his chin.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he swallowed. His stomach seemed to flip at the introduction of food after his short fast.

Magnus sat down on the bed next to him. “You feel bad?''

Talon nodded, unable to find words.

“She broke your heart?''

Talon said nothing but tears gathered in his eyes. He nodded again.

“Good,” said Magnus, striking him on the knee with his staff.

“Ow!” Talon exclaimed, rubbing at the knee.

Magnus stood up and rapped the boy lightly on the side of the head, hard enough to make Talon's ears ring and his eyes water even more. Stepping away, Magnus shouted, “Defend yourself!”

This time he unleashed a vicious swipe at the other side of Talon's head, and the young man barely avoided being brained. He fell to his knees and rolled away, gaining a moment as Magnus had to come around the foot of the bed to reach him. When he did, he found Talon standing beside the table, his sword drawn and ready. “Master Magnus!” he shouted. “What is this?''

Magnus didn't answer, but instead feigned a jab with the foot of the staff toward Talon's head, then swept the rod around in an overhead arc. Talon caught the staff on the forte of his blade with just enough angle to force it past his shoulders, but not enough force to break the sword. Then he stepped inside and grabbed his teacher by the front of his robe, yanking him off-balance. Placing his sword at Magnus's throat, he said, “Am I supposed to kill you now?''

“No,” said Magnus with a grin. He gripped Talon's sword hand and Talon felt his fingers go numb. As the
sword fell from his unresponsive grasp, Talon heard Magnus say, “That was very good.”

Talon stepped back, rubbing his hand. “What is all this?''

“If your enemy comes upon you unexpectedly, do you think he's going to stop and say, ‘Oh, poor Talon. He's upset over his lost love. I think I will wait for another day to kill him'?''

Talon kept rubbing his sore fingers. “No.''

“Precisely.” He motioned for Talon to sit on the bed once more. “Our enemies will attack you in ways you have not even imagined, Talon. Caleb and others can teach you weapons and hone your natural talents. I can show you things about your mind and make it more difficult for your enemies to confuse you or beguile you. But the heart . . .” He tapped his own chest. “That is where many men are the most vulnerable.”

“So this was a lesson?''

“Yes,” said Magnus with a grim expression. “As harsh a lesson as I've ever seen, but necessary.”

“She didn't love me?''

“Never,” said Magnus coldly. “She is our creature, Talon, and we use her, just as we will use you and every other student here.

“Once this was a place for learning, education for its own sake. My father founded the Academy of Magicians down at Stardock. Did you know that?''

“No.”

“When politics overtook the Academy, he started another place of learning here, for students of special gifts. I was raised here.

“But when the Serpentwar raged, and Krondor was destroyed, my father realized that our enemies were relentless and could never be counted on to give us respite. So, this
school became a place of training. Some students from other worlds attend, but there are fewer of them each year; Father brings in some teachers from other realms, as well, but mostly he, Mother, Nakor, I, and others—like Robert—teach.”

“I've not asked, for I assume I'll be told in time, but who is this enemy?''

“It is very hard to tell someone as young as you. I'll leave it for Father and Nakor to tell you when you're ready to understand.

“But you will be tried by the enemy's agents, and as you saw on the night the death-dancers came for me, they can strike in the most unexpected fashion in places you think quite safe.''

“So I must . . . ?”

“Learn, be wary, and trust only a few people.” He paused, considering what to say next. “If I were to tell Rondar or Demetrius to kill you, they would. They would assume my reasons were valid and that you were a threat to us here. If I were to tell Alysandra to kill you, she would. The difference is that Rondar and Demetrius would feel remorse. Alysandra would feel nothing.''

“You made her this way?” said Talon, his anger rising and his sense of order outraged.

“No,” Magnus answered. “We found her that way. Alysandra is . . . flawed. Tragically and terribly. She doesn't think about people as you and I might. She thinks of them as we might a stick of wood or a”—he pointed to a chair—“. . . a piece of furniture. Useful, to be cared for, perhaps, so it can continue to be useful, but with no intrinsic value beyond its use to her.

“We found this terribly damaged person and brought her here. Nakor can tell you about that; I know only that one day this lovely young girl was among us, and Nakor was explaining what we needed to do with her.''

“But why? Why bring her here?''

“To train her to work for us. To use that remorseless nature to our own ends. Otherwise, she might have ended up on the gallows in Krondor. At least this way we can channel her and control who gets hurt.''

Talon sat silently, staring out of the open door. “But it felt so . . .''

“Real?”

“Yes. I thought she was falling in love with me.''

“One of her talents is to be what she needs to be, Talon. It was a cruel lesson, but necessary. And I can't stress this enough: she would have cut your throat while you slept had Nakor ordered it. And then she would have got dressed and whistled a happy tune as she walked back to the estate afterward.”

“Why do this to me?''

“So that you can look hard inside yourself and understand how weak the human heart can be. So that you can steel yourself against anything of this sort ever happening again.''

“Does this mean I can never love another?''

Now it was Magnus's turn to fall silent, and he also stared out of the door for a moment. Then he said, “Perhaps not. But certainly not with some young woman who simply happens to command your attention because of a shapely leg and a winning smile, and because she's in your bed. You can bed women who are willing to your heart's content, time and circumstances allowing. Just don't think you're in love with them, Talon.''

“I know so little.''

“Then you've taken the first step toward wisdom,” Magnus said, standing up. He moved to the door. “Think about this for a while: remember the quiet times when your
father and mother were caring for you and your family. That's love. Not the passion of the moment in the arms of a willing woman.''

Talon leaned back against the wall. “I have much to think about.''

“Tomorrow we return to your training. Eat something and sleep, for we have much to do.''

Magnus left, and Talon lay back on the bed, his arm behind his head. Staring at the ceiling, he thought about what the magician had said. It was as if Magnus had thrown icy water over him. He felt cold and discomforted. The image of Alysandra's face hung in the air above him, yet it was now a mocking, cruel visage. And he wondered if he could ever look at a woman again in the same way.

Talon spent a restless night, even though he was as tired as he could remember. It was even more profound a fatigue than on those occasions when he had recovered from his wounds after almost dying. It was a weariness of the soul, a lethargy that came from a wounded heart.

Yet there was a fey energy within; a strange flashing of images, memories, and imagination; phantasms and fantasies. He rejected Magnus's judgment of Alysandra. Talon
knew
he could not have imagined his feelings, but at the same time he
knew
he had. He was angry, and his pain sought an outlet, yet there was no place to focus it. He blamed his teachers, yet he knew they had taught him a vital lesson that might someday save his life. He raged at Alysandra, yet from what Magnus had told him, she could no more be blamed for her nature than a viper could be blamed for being venomous.

The dawn rose, and the sky turned rose and golden,
a crisp and clear autumn morning. A knock roused Talon from his dark introspection, and he opened the door.

Caleb stood there before him. “Let's go hunting,” he said.

Talon nodded, not even wondering how Caleb had so suddenly appeared on the island. Magic was a foregone conclusion on Sorcerer's Isle.

Talon fetched his bow from inside the wardrobe, where he had lodged it in the corner and forgotten it. He had spent hours dressing and undressing in the fine robes there when he and Alysandra had spent the summer contriving games. He had thought them games of love, but now he thought of them as exercises in lust.

He held the bow, and it was solid and real in his grip, and he knew that he had lost something in his days with the girl. He pulled out a quiver of arrows, then turned to the older man. “Let's go,” he said.

Caleb set a punishing pace, leading and not looking back, expecting Talon at all times to be a step behind him or at his side.

They ranged north, far away from the estate. Half the time they ran. At noon, Caleb stopped and pointed. They were standing on top of a ridge which offered a clear view of most of the island to the north. In the distance Talon could see the small hut where he had lived with Magnus when he had first come to the island. He said nothing.

Eventually Caleb said, “I thought myself in love once.''

“Does everyone know about it?''

“Only those who need to know. It was a lesson.''

“So everyone keeps saying. I can't help but feel it was a cruel jest.''

“Cruel, no doubt. Jest, no. I doubt anyone has told you yet what is in store for you, and I do not know, though I have some sense of it. You are going to be sent places and
see things no boy of the Orosini could ever have dreamed of, Talon. And in those places the wiles of a pretty woman may be as deadly as a poisoned blade.” He leaned on his bow. “Alysandra is not the only girl with a deadly side to her. Our enemies have many such women in their ranks. Just as they will have agents like you.''

“Agents?”

“You are working on behalf of the Conclave; that you know.” He glanced over at the boy, and Talon nodded. “Nakor and my father will someday tell you more, but I can tell you this much, even if they don't think you're ready to know: we are agents of good. It is ironic that sometimes we must do things that appear evil so that eventually good can triumph.''

Talon said, “I am not a learned man. I have read a certain amount, enough to know I know very little. But I have read enough to have some sense that all men think of themselves as heroes, at least heroes of their own lives, and that no man who did evil thought he was doing such.''

“In one sense, you are right.” Caleb stopped for a moment, as if to savor the brisk autumn breeze. “In another sense you must know you are wrong. There are men who knowingly serve evil, who embrace it and who seek to gain by its triumph. Some seek power. Others seek riches. Others still seek darker ends. But it's all the same. They bring suffering and agony to innocents.”