Talon of the Silver Hawk
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The door opened to reveal Magnus standing there. He was wearing his slouch hat and holding his staff, and across one shoulder hung a large black belt, supporting a leather bag at his hip.
Meggie stirred, and her eyes came open. Suddenly they went wide as she spied the magician, and she pulled the blanket up to her chin.
Magnus ignored her. “Talon, get dressed and gather whatever personal belongings you have. We leave at once.’’
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“Huh?”
But the door had already slammed shut behind the departing magician.
Talon stumbled out of bed and looked around. He didn’t have many personal belongings. He had two clean tunics and another pair of trousers, the boots beside the bed, and a small pouch with a few coins he had earned doing extra work for guests. Even the sword and dagger he used were not his, but belonged to Caleb.
He looked down at Meggie, who smiled shyly up at him. Not knowing what else to say, he said, “I’ve got to go.’’
She nodded. He dressed, gathered up his meager pile of possessions, and hurried down to the common room, where Magnus was waiting with Robert.
Robert said, “Talon, you’re to go with Magnus. Do as he bids as if he were speaking for me. I will see you again, but not for a while.’’
“Where am I going?” Talon asked, as all vestiges of sleep fell away from him.
“Everything will be explained to you after you arrive.”
Robert’s manner precluded any more questions.
Magnus moved toward the kitchen, saying, “Follow me.’’
Talon did so, passing through the kitchen, where Leo and Martha were preparing the day’s food. He followed Magnus into the courtyard, where the magic-user said,
“Stand next to me and hold on to my staff.”
Talon stood next to Magnus, shifting his pouch and clean clothing into the crook of his left arm so that he could grip the staff with his right hand.
Without a word, the magician withdrew a device from the folds of his robe, a sphere made from a metal that had a sheen of bronze or, perhaps, even gold. Talon saw Magnus depress a lever in the side with his thumb and the sound of a hive of angry bees engulfed them.
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Talon felt as if the world had dropped away from his feet. His heart leapt into his throat. For a moment he thought he had gone blind, but rather than blackness, he found he could see a profound grey, a void of absolute nothingness. Then the ground was back below his feet, but felt as if it was shifting. He gripped Magnus’s staff hard to keep himself from falling. Suddenly he had the distinct feeling that he was far from the inn. It was still night. And he could smell a strange tang in the air, a pungency he had never encountered before, and in the distance there was an odd sound, like thunder, but low and rolling, repeating itself regularly as he listened.
The magician watched him for a moment, then said,
“You’re hearing the breakers.”
Talon looked at him in the darkness. Magnus’s features were hidden in the shadow of the brim of his slouch hat, and the only light upon him was from the small moon which was setting. “Breakers?”
“Waves breaking upon the rocks.’’
“We are near the sea?” Talon asked, realizing as he spoke that it was a stupid question.
But Magnus did not chide him for his disorientation.
“Come,” he said.
They walked down a path and up a rise, and found themselves before a small hut. For some reason the sound of waves upon the rocks here was louder. “At sunrise, you’ll be able to see the north shore of the island from here,”
Magnus said, and entered the hut.
Talon followed and found himself in a small room inside a daub-and-wattle building, a thatched roof above his head. The floor was earth, but it had been hard packed.
As he moved forward, he saw a faint shimmer of light reflected from the low fire in the stone hearth. He knelt and touched it.
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Magnus put his staff in the corner, removed his hat, and took off his travel pack. Glancing back at Talon, he smiled.
“Noticed the floor,” he observed.
“What is it?’’
“Rock. It was mud, but a very clever spell turned it to rock. I was trying for something a little closer to marble, but somewhere in the cantrip I neglected a phrase.” He shrugged. “It is a bit of vanity on my part, really.” He motioned with his hand toward the walls and roof. “The walls will never need to be reworked or the thatch replaced.”
In the room were four items: a huge chest, a table with two chairs, and a pallet on the floor. “That is my pallet,”
said Magnus. “You will sleep in front of the hearth.’’
Talon nodded. He held out his belongings and asked,
“Where shall I put these?’’
The magician raised an eyebrow as he inspected the young man’s scant possessions. “Use the clothing as a pillow. Put the belt-purse anywhere out of the way.’
Talon nodded and looked around. One corner next to the hearth housed tongs, a kettle, and a broom, but the other was empty. He placed his little bundle of clothing in a pile in this empty corner.
“Come outside,” said Magnus.
When they were standing under the night sky, he said
“You are not a stupid boy. Look at the stars and tell me where you think we are.’’
Talon gazed up and compared the sky to the one he had known as a child in his homeland mountains. He took in the small retreating moon and glanced to the east, where a glow heralded the rising large moon. “It is four hours until dawn,” he observed. “It was dawn at Kendrick’s when you woke me.” He knew the barest geography, having seen only a few maps at Kendrick’s as Robert studied them. But 9261.01 3/13/03 12:53 PM Page 141
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using what little knowledge he had, he said at last, “We are upon an island in the Bitter Sea.’’
“Good. How did you deduce this?’’
“We are west of Kendrick’s, or else it would have been daylight, or if we were far to the east, it would be late in the day, or early in the night and Little Moon would be low in the eastern sky, rather than setting in the west. But we are not far enough west to be beyond the Straits of Darkness and in the Endless Sea. We are . . . south of Kendrick’s.”
“Good,” repeated Magnus.
“May I know why I’m here?” asked Talon.
Magnus said, “Grip the staff again, and do not let go for any reason.’’
Talon gripped the staff, and suddenly felt himself shoot into the air, as if carried aloft by a giant’s hand. The ground fell away with dizzying swiftness, and they soared up through the clouds.
Then they stopped, and Talon knew without looking that his knuckles were white, for he was holding on to the staff with all his strength.
“Behold the world, Talon of the Silver Hawk.’’
In the east, the rising Large Moon bathed the distant landscape in silvery relief. The air blew briskly, but Talon shivered for other reasons. He was terrified.
Yet he maintained his poise and glanced around him.
The island below was hidden in clouds and darkness, yet he had a sense of size as they had shot upward. The hut was on the north shore of the island, and the land had dropped away to the south, perhaps into a valley. Talon knew little of oceans and islands, save what he had glimpsed on Robert’s maps, but he judged it to be a fair-sized place—more land than the woodlands around Kendrick’s if he could judge such things.
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directions. The rising moonlight played upon the clouds below them, and the sparkling of the sea to the north showed him the curve of the planet.
“So big,” he said at last.
“Good,” said Magnus as they started to descend.
“You’re learning perspective.” When they were safely on the ground again, he went on, “The reason you’re here, Talon of the Silver Hawk, is to learn.’’
Talon said, “Learn what, Magnus?’’
The magician put a hand on Talon’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “As much as I can possibly teach you.”
Then, without another word, he turned and entered the hut, and after hesitating for a moment, Talon followed him into what was obviously going to be his new home for a while.
__
Talon read the passage aloud for the fifth time, with Magnus listening closely. When Talon had finished, the magician said, “That is satisfactory.”
For the first month since arriving on the island, Talon had been forced to read aloud, with Magnus correcting his grammar and his pronunciation, his inflection and tone.
Talon knew from having heard Count Ramon DeBarges speaking that Magnus was attempting to make him sound as much like a noble as possible.
“This is something new,” said Magnus, holding out a book.
It was written in a script unknown to Talon. “What is it?’’
“It is a rather dull book on the life of a minor king of the Isles, Henry the Third. But it is simply written and shall be your introduction into reading and writing the King’s Tongue.’’
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“Magnus, can I take a break from this?’’
“Break?”
“My mind is swimming, and the words on the page are just a blur. I have been inside this hut for a week. My last venture outside was a walk to the beach for an afternoon while you were gone.’’
There was a peevish quality to Talon’s voice that was unusual for him. The magician smiled thinly. “Restless, are you?’’
“Very. Perhaps I could go hunting?” He paused. “If you had a bow . . .”
Magnus said, “I do not. But do you fish?’’
Talon sat upright, his face alive with enthusiasm. “I’ve fished the lakes and rivers of my homeland ever since I could walk.’’
Magnus regarded him silently for a moment, then said,
“Very well. Let me show you how to fish in the ocean.’’
With a wave of his hand, he caused a black void to appear in the air. Then he reached through it and appeared to be feeling around for something. “Ah!” he said with satisfaction. When he withdrew his arm, there was a pole in his hand. He pulled it through and handed it to Talon.
Talon saw that it was a fishing pole, but unlike any he had seen before. It was long—a foot longer than his own six feet in height—and it had an odd device affixed to it, a cylinder with a ratchet and crank, around which a prodigious amount of line was wrapped. The line was threaded through a series of loops—looking to be fashioned out of cane or bamboo—to a metal loop at the tip. On top of the reel lay a metal bar.
Magnus fetched out another of these poles and then a wicker basket on a belt, which Talon recognized as a fisherman’s creel.
“Come then, let us fish, but while we do, we shall also study.’’
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With a sigh, Talon picked up the creel and the two poles and followed. Even if his lessons continued, at least he would be outside for the afternoon.
He followed the magician down the rocky path from the bluff to the beach below. The wind whipped up small whitecaps and blew spindrift off the top of the breakers.
Talon had come to find the sound of the waves upon the rocks soothing and the smell of sea air as invigorating as the scent of the pines and aspens of his home.
When they reached the beach, Magnus hiked up his robes and tucked them into his belt. On another man, it might have been a comic sight, but there was nothing comical about Magnus. Talon noticed his powerful legs and decided that despite being a user of magic rather than a hunter or warrior, Magnus was as powerfully built a man as his younger brother.
The magician showed Talon how to hold the rod. He pointed out the items on the “reel,” as he called the device attached to the pole, and explained that the bar was a
“brake” which would slow down the reel if a large fish struck it and tried to run. The ratchet allowed the fisherman to reel in the fish, keeping it from pulling away unless the fisherman released the brake.
Talon was fascinated: his entire experience of fishing had involved nets and a line tied to the end of a long stick.
He watched as Magnus pulled out some dried meat from the creel and threaded it onto a large metal hook. With two steps and a half trot half leap, he whipped the end of the pole toward the waves, casting the hook far out beyond the breakers.
“Make sure you know where the hook is before you cast,” he warned Talon. “It’s no fun to catch yourself with it. You have to push the damn thing through the skin and cut it off to get the hook out of your flesh.’’
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Talon sensed he spoke from bitter experience. Moving a short distance away from Magnus, Talon put the dried beef on the hook. Then he let the line rest on the sand as he stepped forward a pace, then with a whip of the pole cast the line farther out than Magnus had.
“Well done,” the magician said.
They stood there in silence for nearly half an hour.
Neither man feared silence. Then Magnus said, “What do your people believe about this world?’’
Talon asked, “I’m not sure what you mean.’’
“What stories do they tell regarding the nature of the world?’’
Talon thought about the stories told by the old men around the fire during the summer, and when the shaman would come and speak of the history of the race. “The Orosini believe the world is a dream, fashioned by the gods, living in the mind of the Sleeper.’’
“And what about the people?’’
“We are part of that dream,” Talon responded. “But to us everything is real, because who can know what is real to a god?’’
Magnus said nothing for a while. Then he said, “Your people may be right, because nothing in that concept of this world is in conflict with what we know of it. But for the moment, put aside your people’s beliefs and listen to me.
Here is what I know to be true.
“The world is a large ball of earth, mud, rock, and water, with air surrounding it. As vast as it is, it is but a tiny part of a universe which is large beyond imagining, and full of other worlds, many with life on them.
“There are billions of worlds in the universe.”
“Billions?”
“What has Robert taught you of numbers?” Magnus asked.
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“I can add and subtract, multiply and divide, if I am careful.’’
“Better than most men. How many figures can you manage?’’
“I can multiply four numbers by four other numbers.’’
“Then you know what a thousand is.’’
“Ten hundreds,” answered Talon.
“And ten thousands by ten is a hundred thousand.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“And ten such is a million.’’
“Ah,” said Talon, sounding uncertain.
Magnus cast him a sidelong glance and saw that Talon was now lost. “Look, let me ex
plain it this way. Should I give you grains of sand, one each second, in one minute you would have sixty in your hand.’’
“And if you did so for one thousand seconds, I would have a thousand. Yes, I see,” Talon said, anticipating where the lesson was going.
“It would take more than thirteen days for me to hand you a million grains of sand, if I continued at one a second without stopping.”
Talon looked amazed. “That long?’’
“A billion would take me more than thirty years.’’
Talon looked at Magnus in complete disbelief. “Can there be a number that big?’’
“Bigger,” said Magnus. With a slight smile, he said,
“Two billion.’’
Talon could only laugh. “And then three billion and four: yes, I see.’’
“There are many billions of worlds in the universe, Talon, perhaps even too many for our gods to know them all.’’
Talon showed no emotion, but it was clear that he found the idea fascinating. Magnus went on, describing a universe of endless variety and possibility.
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“What of the life on these other worlds?” Talon asked at one point.
“You’ve heard the stories of the Riftwar?’’
“Yes, told me by my grandfather. He said to the west . . .” Talon paused, then glanced at the sea and said,
“. . . the west of our homeland—I guess it might be to the east of here.’’
“No, it is still to the west of here, off on the Far Coast.
Continue.”
“He said that men from another world came by magic to wage war on our world, but that the Kingdom repulsed them.’’
“That’s one version,” said Magnus with a wry expression. “I’ll tell you what really happened some other time.’’
“Are these people like us?’’
“As much as the Orosini are like the men of Roldem.’’
“Not very much, then,” said Talon.
“Enough like us that eventually we found common ground and ended the war. You can meet some of their descendants someday.’’
“Where?”
“In Yabon Province of the Kingdom of Isles. Many settled in the city of LaMut.’’