Talon of the Silver Hawk (34 page)

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Authors: Raymond E. Feist

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The pages bowed and departed, and Pasko helped Tal to dress quickly. The clothing was of the finest weave and fit as if Tal's measurements had been taken by a master tailor. “I wonder if there's another suit somewhere cut to fit Campaneal,” Pasko mused.

“No doubt,” said Tal. “Are those pearls?''

“Yes,” said Pasko. “Your doublet is sewn with seed pearls. This rig is worth almost as much as that dainty little golden sword you won.”

When he had finished dressing, the young victor stood before a rare and costly polished glass mirror and regarded himself. The yellow jacket and black breeches were complemented by a white shirt and red hat. Yet it was a stranger he saw. For a brief instant he didn't recognize his reflection. There was no hint of the mountain boy who had sat shivering upon a frosty peak waiting for his vision. Before him stood a stranger, replete in the costly and most fashionable garb in Roldem, an urbane, educated young man who spoke many languages, played several instruments, could cook, paint, compose verse, and woo ladies of rank. For a bitter moment, Tal wondered if the boy within was lost forever. Then he pushed this dark thought out of his mind and turned to Pasko. “Come, we must not keep the King waiting.''

They hurried to the main hall, where the Master of Ceremonies announced his arrival. Tal entered and walked across the hall to stand before the King while the onlookers applauded enthusiastically.

Next to the Queen stood the Duke of Olasko, and when the general compliments were finished, the Duke stepped forward with a slight smile on his lips, and said, “If I might have a moment, young sir.''

Tal allowed the Duke to steer him off a short distance away from the King. Duke Kaspar spoke evenly, his voice a deep and soothing tone, belying the dangerous nature Tal sensed within him. “Do you have plans now that the contest is over, my young friend?''

Tal said, “I have some family business I must attend to, but I haven't given much thought to what happens after that, your grace.''

“I'm always seeking men of special talent, young Hawkins, and you strike me as just that. The way you dispatched that Keshian Izmali put you far above most swordsmen, and your defeat of my champion today—well, let's say there may not be another man in Olasko who could stand up to Campaneal.”

“You flatter me, your grace.''

“No,” the Duke said softly. “Empty flattery is a waste of time. Those who serve me win praise when it's deserved, just as they receive punishment when they fail. I'm pleased to say the rewards far outstrip the punishments in my court, for as I said, I seek exceptional men.” His smile broadened, and he said, “And women as well.''

The Duke looked past Tal, and when Tal turned, he saw a slender women with golden tresses approach, a small smile upon her lips. Tal's expression remained neutral as the Duke said, “My dear, may I present Squire Talwin Hawkins, late of the Kingdom?” To Tal he said, “Squire, this is my companion, the Lady Rowena of Taslin.''

“My lady,” said Tal with a bow.

“My pleasure, Squire. I was late arriving in the city, but
managed to reach the palace in time for the duel. You were magnificent.”

“You praise me too much, Lady,” said Tal.

Turning to the Duke, she said, “It's a pity about the Lieutenant.”

“Yes, isn't it?” said Kaspar. Then he turned to Tal. “Ah, you won't have heard, will you? Your blow cut an artery in the groin. It's a tricky thing, which pulls back up into the body when severed. I'm afraid my lieutenant bled to death while they were sending for a healing priest.''

Tal felt his heart stop for a moment, then he said, “That is indeed regrettable, your grace.''

“You know, it's only the fourth fatality in the history of the tournament, and you're responsible for two of them, in the same day. This afternoon's was certainly justifiable, given the circumstances, but tonight's . . . an unfortunate mishap. It's a murderous wound.''

Tal stiffened, but the Duke added, “A poor choice of words, my young friend. I watched the bout closely, and your thrust was blind. I don't think you could see where the point was heading. It was clearly an accident.”

“I am very sorry to have cost you a fine officer,” Tal said.

“Well, then,” answered the Duke, “make it up to me by coming to Opardum and taking service with me.''

Tal's heart beat faster. “I'll consider it, your grace. As I said, I have some family business that requires my attention, but once that's finished . . . perhaps.''

“Very good. Now if you'll excuse me,” the Duke said, extending his arm and escorting the Lady Rowena away.

Tal made his way back to where Pasko was waiting, acknowledging a dozen congratulatory remarks on the way. When Pasko saw Tal's face, he said, “What's wrong?''

“We must leave at and once and find out where Magnus
is lurking.” Tal looked around the great hall. “I'm certain he's out there somewhere.”

“And then?''

“I will tell him I know who sent the assassins to kill me. It was the Duke of Olasko.''

“How do you know?''

“He knew the assassin was an Izmali. Only Magnus knew that for certain, because he had been to Kesh. The only way Olasko could know is if he had hired the man's clan to send him.''

Pasko's expression changed. Then he said, “I'll find him.''

As he started to step past Tal, he felt the young swordsman's restraining hand on his arm. “One other thing,” Tal said.

“What?”

“That woman with Olasko.''

“Yes, what about her?''

“It's Alysandra.”

CHOICES

Magnus paced.

“I sent word to my father about Alysandra. I'm awaiting a reply.''

“You didn't know she was with the Duke?” asked Talon.

“No,” said Magnus. “I'm not privy to every detail of every plan my father has in place. All I know is she left the island less than a year after you did.''

“Nobody told me.''

Caleb sat quietly in the corner of Tal's apartment. “Seemed no reason to, Tal. You'd been given a harsh lesson, but we assumed you'd got over it; besides, many of those who were with you on the island come and go on different missions for Father.''

“So do I assume she's working for . . .” He was about to say “the Conclave,” but had been cautioned against referring to it anywhere he might be overheard, and the busi
ness with the Duke of Olasko was making him especially cautious. Instead, he said, “. . . for us?''

“If she wasn't,” said Magnus, “you'd already be dead. Kaspar doesn't know specifics about us, but he knows there is someone out there working against his interests and the interests of those he's allied himself with. If he had a hint you were part of that opposition . . .” He shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Tal said, “I could have said something to her without thinking.”

“If you were that untutored,” said Caleb, “you would never have been permitted to come this far, Tal.” He stood up and walked over to his brother. “Who's supervising the girl?''

“Mother.”

Caleb shook his head and gave a rueful smile. “Then anything is possible, and that's why no one told any of us Alysandra was here in the east.” He said to Tal, “Mother is the least likely to share information. It has a lot to do with her past, but whatever the cause, this isn't the first time she's taken it upon herself to conduct business without even bothering to tell Father.''

Magnus rolled his eyes. “The fights . . .” Then he said, “Caleb is right. I'll speak with Mother tonight and see if she'll let me know what Alysandra is doing with the Duke.''

There came a knock at the door downstairs. Pasko indicated that he would see to it, and the others fell quiet. “Probably an invitation,” Pasko said as he walked out of the room and down the stairs.

“Celebrity brings many new friends.” Tal's tone was dry, and he made a face. “I've had a dozen invitations to supper in the last four hours.''

Pasko returned and handed Tal a note. It bore a seal he had not seen before, and Pasko said, “From the Lady Rowena of Taslin.''

Tal broke the seal and read the note. “She says that she will depart with the Duke in two days' time and may not have the opportunity to see me, so she sends word. Olasko moves against the High Reaches before the end of summer.''

“He's cutting off the eastern approaches to his army when he invades Farinda,” said Caleb.

“Which means next spring he'll be invading the land of the Orodon,” said Tal. He looked at the message again, then said to the brothers, “At least this appears to mean Alysandra is still working for your mother.''

Caleb said, “Apparently.”

“What do you want to do next, Tal?” Magnus asked.

“I thought you'd tell me.''

Magnus leaned on his staff. “We can't supervise every step of every day for those we put out in the world to work for us. You've been placed here in Roldem to create a name for yourself, to gain access to places of power and influence. We have many such in the Kingdom and almost as many down in Kesh, but we are just now placing our agents in the Eastern Kingdoms.

“But when we decide an agent is ready, we let him start deciding how best to serve our cause.''

“I'd know better how to serve if I understood the cause, Magnus.''

Magnus raised his hands and his lips moved, and for a moment, Tal thought the room went slightly darker. “No one can see us inside this spell for a minute or two.” He moved to the table and sat down. “Tal, we are agents for good. I know you've heard that before, and much of what we've visited on you seems to give the lie to that, but it is true. There is a lot I still cannot tell you, but now that you have come to this place in our service, here is what you must know.

“The Duke of Olasko has a man serving with him. That man did not come with him to Roldem, which doesn't surprise me. He rarely leaves Opardum these days. It may be that Mother has placed Alysandra in Olasko to influence Kaspar, but more likely she has her there to keep an eye on this man.

“He uses the name Leso Varen, but that is no more his name than any of a dozen others he has used over the years. My father has faced this man before. He is as close to my father's counterpart as the enemy has, for he is a magician of terrible power and subtle craft. He is mad, but he is no man's fool. He's dangerous beyond contemplation and is the true heart of evil behind Kaspar's ambitions.”

Caleb added, “This is no exaggeration, Tal. The man is evil incarnate.”

Magnus said, “This much you should also know. We who serve my parents and the others who lead us will see no victory over our enemies in our lifetime or the lifetime of our grandchildren's grandchildren.

“We struggle because we must. Evil has an advantage, for it is served by chaos and confusion. It can destroy and ravage, while we must preserve and build. Ours is the more difficult task.''

Caleb said, “Nakor once told Magnus and me that by its nature, evil is madness, and if you think back to the destruction of your village, you must agree.''

Tal nodded. “That Kaspar could destroy my people just because of his evil ambitions . . . you're right, it's madness.''

“So, to the point,” said Magnus. “We will never defeat evil entirely, but we work to stem it, to protect as many innocents from the forces that destroyed everything you knew as a child. To that end, we agreed in council what must be done, but each of us has a different role to play in how we achieve the goals we've established.”

“So the goal is to kill Kaspar?” asked Tal.

“Perhaps,” said Caleb. “Almost certainly, eventually, but right now we must bide our time and see if we can isolate Leso Varen. If we can somehow, finally, destroy him, we will have set our enemies' cause back . . . centuries.”

Tal said, “You're now speaking about things that I can't imagine, Caleb. I won't be here centuries from now.''

Magnus said, “It's a habit learned from those who have far longer life spans. No, we don't expect you to understand everything, Tal, but if you can imagine someday being a father, what you do now will help secure a safer future for your children.”

Tal was silent for a moment. He had become so estranged from his own history, from who he had been, and become so lost in the role of Tal Hawkins that thinking of any sort of personal life in which he might someday wed and father children had almost no meaning for him. Then he remembered those heady weeks with Alysandra when he had ached to imagine they would be together forever; the girl might have played him false—for whatever reason—and he might hate her for that, but his feelings had been real: he had wanted to wed and be a father. At last he said, “I understand the point.''

“Good,” said Magnus. “Now, have you given any thought to Kaspar's offer?''

Tal said, “I'm wrestling with it. I will almost certainly go to Opardum and hear him out, listen to what he proposes, but I can't imagine taking service with him.''

“It would put you close, Tal,” said Caleb. “You could help our cause a great deal if you were to ingratiate yourself with Kaspar, and if you could gain access to Leso Varen.''

“I'm Orosini,” said Tal. “I may look like a gentleman of Roldem or a Kingdom nobleman, but I am still Orosini.”
He touched his cheeks. “I may not have my clan tattoos, but I am Orosini.''

Caleb said nothing, just looked at Tal and waited for him to continue. Magnus raised an eyebrow, but also kept silent.

“If I give my oath to Kaspar, I will keep it. I cannot give false oath. It is impossible. I cannot serve the Conclave and serve Kaspar at the same time. I understand how Alysandra or others can, but I cannot.” His voice dropped. “I may be the last of my people, but that is our way, and I will not abandon it.''

“Then you must not,” said Caleb.

“Besides,” said Magnus, “Kaspar will have the means to determine if someone has a false heart when he swears an oath. Leso Varen might not actually be able to read your mind as such, but I suspect he'll be able to tell if you're lying.''

“So, then,” Caleb asked Tal, “what do you propose to do?''

“I told Kaspar I'd come to Opardum after I took care of some family business.”

“What is this family business?” asked Magnus.

With a deep sigh, as if something tormented and angry was being allowed to escape, Tal said, “Vengeance.”

The man fell backward, knocking over a table. People nearby scattered, for no one wanted to deal with the obviously enraged young man standing over the moaning form which had just slammed into the table.

He was a broad-shouldered youth, in his early twenties by his appearance, clean-shaven and clear-eyed. His hair was long, tied back and pushed under a black cloth, knotted
at the back like those worn by Quegan pirates. He was clearly no pirate, for his boots were a horseman's, and his sword was a fine long blade, not a heavy cutlass, but he looked as fearsome as any buccaneer boarding a ship: his anger was obvious for anyone to see.

He looked down at the fallen man, who rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, “Where's Raven?''

The man tried to move as if to stand, and Tal kicked his hand away, causing him to fall backward. “Where's Raven?” he repeated.

Tal had stayed in Roldem until the Midwinter Festival, then he had traveled to Kendrick's. He had stayed there and relived some of the pleasures he had known before, mostly spending time in the kitchen with Leo concocting new delights. Leo was impressed with the progress the young Talon had made in matters of dining and wine, but he still treated him as if he were an ignorant child in the kitchen.

Except for Leo and his wife, Gibbs and Kendrick, the inn was populated by people unknown to Tal. Meggie was gone, no one knew where, and Gibbs had been surprised when Tal told him Lela was in Krondor. Tal was saddened to hear that Lars had died in a lake, drowned after falling through the ice, earlier that winter.

After this, Tal had come to Latagore, and had found the place much the same as when he and Caleb had visited years before, despite the installation of a new Dominar who was one of Kaspar's lackeys. There seemed to be more city guards, but otherwise people went about their business and the sun shone, and nothing indicated dark forces were in play.

Tal had asked around discreetly for information on the coming conflicts. There was already fighting in the High
Reaches, for Olasko had made his move there; but the mercenary bands who normally flocked to such conflicts were conspicuously absent.

The man on the floor was named Zemos, and he had been willing to talk to Tal for a price, assuming that he was a mercenary looking for employment. Zemos was, according to several barkeepers, a broker of sorts who could find a man a billet with a mercenary band for the right price. But as soon as Raven's name had come up, Zemos had appeared to forget everything he had ever known about the mercenary trade.

Tal had decided to stimulate his memory.

“Still assaulting people, I see,” said a voice from the end of the bar.

Tal glanced over and saw a face which looked vaguely familiar to him, and it took a moment for him to recognize it. “John Creed,” he said with a nod at last. “Only when they suddenly forget information I've paid for.''

Zemos said, “I'll give you back your gold. I thought you were just looking for a billet.''

Creed came to stand beside Tal. “Forgive me, but I can't say as I recall the name.''

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