Talon of the Silver Hawk
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he added with a chuckle, “it was your father who first said
‘there is no magic.’ ”
“Are you or Father ever going to tell me how he knew to send that message to you with James on his first trip to Kesh? You two hadn’t even met.’’
“He’s never told me how he knew,” Nakor replied.
“There are things your father trusts to no one, not even to your mother.’
“The Black Sorcerer,” said Magnus with a sigh. “It’s too easy to forget it’s not just a role to terrorize sailors who get too close to this island.’’
“No, it’s far more than that, as your grandfather knew.’’
Magnus’s grandfather, Macros, had been the first magic-user to employ a Black Sorcerer to secure the island’s privacy. He also had been an agent for Sarig, the lost god of magic, and had given Sorcerer’s Isle to Pug and Miranda.
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understood the deepest mysteries of the organization.
Magnus had once asked his father who should take control if anything happened to him, and Pug had replied crypti-cally that everyone would know what to do if that should happen.
Magnus turned his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Still, magic or stuff, you’ve not told me why Talon is studying the mystic arts.’’
“True, I haven’t.’’
“Nakor, are you planning to irritate me all day?’’
Nakor laughed. “No, I just forget sometimes you have a problem with the concept of humor.” He pointed toward the other end of the meadow, where the race had ended and the three boys were standing, awaiting instruction. “Talon needs to know as much as he can about any potential enemy. Our enemies have relied on the black arts for years, and Talon’s ability to survive the attack of those three death-dancers gave me an idea.’’
Magnus was silent. He knew that had he been alone in the hut, those death-dancers most likely would have killed him. He had speculated late into the night with his father why the enemy had taken such a bold step and why he had been selected as the target, but in the end all they were left with was speculation.
Magnus said, “You want him able to recognize magic?’’
“If possible. Years ago, Lord James, Duke of Krondor, told me he could always feel the hair on the back of his neck rise when someone was using magic. He also talked about his ‘bump of trouble,’ his ability to sense something was about to happen that was bad. It was a special intuition that saved James on several occasions.”
“You think Talon might have that ability?’’
“I don’t know yet, but it might prove useful to have someone who is not obviously a magic-user, but who has 9261.01 3/13/03 12:53 PM Page 191
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some sense of it, who can enter places that will have wards set against magicians, and yet be able to act with some knowledge.”
“Seems a vague enough motive for subjecting the boy to extra hours of study, especially since it will only be in the abstract and he will never be able to put that knowledge into practice.”
“You never know,” said Nakor. “In any event, it will make him a far more educated person than he is, and that is to everyone’s benefit.” He watched as the boys switched roles, so that Demetrius and Talon were to ride the next race, while Rondar observed.
“I’m thinking we must also see to another phase of Talon’s education. I read with interest your notes on his encounters with those two girls at Kendrick’s. I think we need to further those lessons.’’
“Alysandra?”
“Yes. I think it’s time for her to start using the skills we’ve taught her.’’
“Why?”
“Because Talon will face things far more dangerous than steel and spell.’’
Magnus turned to look back at the large buildings of his father’s estate. “How did we become such men, Nakor?
How did we become capable of doing such evil things?’’
“The irony of the gods,” Nakor replied. “We do evil in the name of good, and our enemies have at times done good in the name of evil.’’
“Do you think the gods are laughing at us?’’
Nakor chuckled. “Constantly.”
“You didn’t . . .”
“What?”
“When I was your student. You didn’t . . . Helena . . .
she wasn’t one of yours, was she?’’
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“No,” said Nakor, his features softening. He put his hand on Magnus’s arm, and added, “That harsh lesson was of your own devising. Life is like that sometimes.” Then he turned his attention back to the three boys as the new race began, with Demetrius and Talon riding with all the skill they could muster, while Rondar shouted insults at both of them.
When Nakor looked back at Magnus, he found the magician lost in thought. Having some idea of where those thoughts led, Nakor said, “You should have found another, Magnus.’’
Magnus looked down at his former teacher. “Some wounds never heal. You just bind them up and go on with life.’’
Nakor nodded. “I know, Magnus.’’
Magnus smiled. He knew that Nakor understood, for he had once been wed to Magnus’s grandmother and had loved her up to the very moment he had been forced to kill her.
Magnus took a deep breath. “Very well. When shall we start?’’
“Might as well be tonight,” said Nakor.
Magnus started walking. “Then I had better go and tell the girl.’’
Nakor called after him: “Just tell her what to do. She’ll know exactly how to do it.’’
When he turned back, it was in time to see Talon finish slightly ahead of Demetrius, both boys exulting loudly as they reined in before Rondar. Nakor reflected that youth often understood without having to be taught about seizing the joy of the moment, about not thinking too much of tomorrow and the worries and concerns it would bring, or too much about yesterday, with all its regrets and guilt.
Softly, Nakor said, “Enjoy this moment, Talon. Savor it.’’
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Then with a sigh of regret, he turned his back upon the three students and started walking toward Pug’s quarters.
They had a lot to discuss, and much of that would be unpleasant.
__
Talon dried his hair with a coarse towel. He enjoyed bathing, though it had not been a regular part of his childhood. The Orosini had to heat water in which to bathe, since all the rivers ran with snowmelt year-round and only in the hot months of summer could one swim in the lakes and rivers of the mountains. In winter they sweated in the lodges and scraped off dirt with a stick.
He had been introduced to bathing at Kendrick’s, but there he had to use a tub, often after others had used it, so it seemed that all he was doing was trading his own dirt for someone else’s. But the Villa Beata had a wonderful set of rooms in which to bathe. It had three connecting baths with cold, warm, and hot water which were enjoyed by many folk in the community on a daily basis. And smaller tubs were available in each wing of the estate buildings.
After working or riding, he was glad to get the grime off and don fresh clothing. And every day there was fresh apparel in his clothes chest. He knew that other students were assigned work in the laundry, but it still seemed like magic to him. He would leave his dirty clothing in a hamper outside the door to the room, and when he returned from his studies or exercises, clean garments awaited him.
As he wiped his face dry, he felt the stubble along his jaw. He had started shaving th
e year before, in the same manner as Magnus, although the method preferred by the 9261.01 3/13/03 12:53 PM Page 194
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Orosini was to pluck each hair out of the chin one by one.
Talon decided he much preferred a sharp razor.
Talon stropped the razor while Rondar and Demetrius came in from their baths. “What are you doing after supper?” he asked, lathering his face.
Rondar threw himself upon his bed, a coarse towel his only garment, and grunted something noncommittal.
Demetrius said, “I’ve got kitchen duty tonight, so I’ll be serving and cleaning up. You?’’
“I’m free,” said Talon as he started shaving. “I thought we might build a fire in the pit down by the lake and see who turns up.’’
“It helps if you spread the word during supper that you’re doing so.’’
Rondar said, “Girls.’’
“An impromptu gathering is often the best.’’
“Well, tomorrow’s Sixthday, so no matter how tired you are in the morning, by midday you can rest.’’
“I can,” said Demetrius. “And he can”—he pointed to Rondar—“but you can’t. Didn’t you check the roster?’’
“No.”
“You’ve got kitchen duty all day, sunrise until after last meal.’’
Talon sighed. “So much for a revel tonight.’’
“Well, it’s a good idea, even if you’re not going to be there,” said Demetrius.
“Yes,” Rondar agreed.
“Thanks. I think of it, and I can’t go.’’
“You can go,” said Demetrius. “Just don’t stay up too late.’’
“Wine,” said Rondar as he sat up and began dressing.
“Yes, we’ll need wine.’’
Demetrius looked at Talon, who grinned at him.
“You’re the one in the kitchen tonight.’’
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“If Besalamo catches me in the cellar again, he’ll cook and eat me.’’
“Taldaren,” observed Rondar with a nod.
Talon laughed. Besalamo was a magician from another world—a fact that had taken Talon some time to fully assimilate—and looked almost human, save for two fins of white bone that ran fore and aft along his skull in place of hair. And he had bright red eyes. “I think he started that rumor about Taldaren eating boys to keep us in line.’’
“You want to find out?” asked Demetrius.
“No, but I’m not the one who needs to get us some wine. Without the wine the girls won’t come down to the lake.’’
“They might, if you asked them,” suggested Demetrius.
Talon flushed at the suggestion. It was becoming clear that as the new boy he was the object of much curiosity among the girls on the island.
In total, there seemed to be about fifty students on the island, and after taking away those who weren’t human, there were sixteen young men, from Talon’s age up to their midtwenties, and fourteen girls, aged fourteen to twenty-two.
“Alysandra,” said Rondar.
“Yes,” Demetrius agreed. “Invite her. If she says yes, all the boys will come, and if all the boys are down by the lake, then all the girls will come as well.’’
Talon’s face and neck turned deep crimson.
“Blushing,” said Rondar with a laugh as he pulled on his trousers.
“Leave him alone, you useless barbarian. If we’re going to get the girls to the lake tonight, we need Talon to ask Alysandra.”
Talon gave Demetrius a dubious look but said nothing.
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other boys seemed to have, yet he had come to the conclusion that she was totally uninterested in him. Between her polite but unenthusiastic responses to him over the last few weeks whenever circumstances brought them together, and the near awe with which the boys regarded her, he had decided early on that any pursuit of her was a waste of time.
Still, if Demetrius was willing to risk the cook’s wrath by pilfering some wine, and even Rondar was excited at the prospect of the gathering, Talon felt he’d best do his part.
He finished dressing and set out to find Alysandra.
__
The fire burned brightly as the young men and women of the island sat in pairs or threes talking quietly. Except Rondar, who sat slightly away from Demetrius and a girl whose name Talon didn’t know.
Talon was surprised to see nearly fifty people around the fire. The two bottles of wine Demetrius had produced were augmented by a large cask of ale someone else had purloined from the storage shed, and a few of the boys were already showing the effects of too much drink. He helped himself to a goblet and walked a little away from the group.
Talon enjoyed wine, but ale held little interest for him.
The honeyed drinks of his childhood were but a dim memory and he had been denied the fermented honey the men drank. He stood there, on his own, swishing the pungent liquid around his mouth, savoring its taste.
“Why are you alone?’’
Talon looked up and found a slender dark-haired girl named Gabrielle standing next to him, a light shawl around her shoulders. She had startling blue eyes and a warm smile.
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“Hardly alone,” Talon said.
She nodded. “Yet you always seem . . . apart, Talon.’’
Talon glanced around and said nothing.
“Are you waiting for Alysandra?”
It was as if the girl had read his mind; and on this island, that was a distinct possibility! Gabrielle’s smiled broadened. “No . . . yes, I suppose so. I mentioned this gathering to her before supper and”—he waved his hand at the other girls—“apparently she mentioned it to a number of the girls.’’
Gabrielle studied his face, then said, “Are you yet another of those who have fallen under her spell?’’
“Spell?” asked Talon. “What do you mean?’’
“She’s my friend. We share a room, and I love her, but she’s different.” Gabrielle looked at the fire as if seeing something within the flames. “It’s easy to forget that each of us is different.”
Talon didn’t quite know where Gabrielle was taking the conversation, so he was content to remain silent.
After a long pause, Gabrielle said, “I have visions.
Sometimes they are flashes, images that are with me for only a brief instant. At other times they are long, detailed things, as if I were in a room watching others, hearing them speak.
“I was abandoned as a child by my family. They were fearful of me because I had foretold the death of a nearby farmer, and the villagers named me a witch-child.” Her eyes grew dark. “I was four years old.’’
When Talon reached out to touch her, she pulled back and turned toward him with a pained smile. “I don’t like to be touched.’’
“Sorry,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “I only—’’
“I know you meant well. Despite your own pain you have a generous spirit and an open heart. That’s why I see only pain for you.’’
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“What do you mean?’’
“Alysandra.” Gabrielle rose. “I love her like a sister, but she’s dangerous, Talon. She will not come tonight. But you will find her, soon. And you will fall in love with her, and she will break your heart.’’
Before he could ask any more questions, she turned and walked off into the dark, leaving Talon staring after her bemusedly. He weighed her words and found himself feeling a
mixture of confusion and anger. Hadn’t he had enough pain already in his life? He had lost everything dear to him, nearly been killed, been taken to strange places, and asked to learn things that were still alien and disturbing to him at times.
And now he was being told that he had no choice in how his heart was to be engaged? He stood up and turned his back on the revelers and slowly started to head back toward his quarters. His mind spun this way and that, and before he knew it he was in his quarters, lying upon his bed, staring at the ceiling. It seemed to him then that two faces hovered above him, changing places: Alysandra, whose brilliant smile seemed to make a lie of Gabrielle’s words—for how could someone so gentle and beautiful be dangerous? But then he’d recall the pain he saw in Gabrielle’s eyes and knew that she was not giving him false counsel. She had perceived danger, and Talon knew he must heed that warning.
He was dozing when Rondar and Demetrius returned from the gathering, both of them a little drunk. They were chattering. Or rather, thought Talon, Demetrius was chattering for both of them.
“You left,” said Rondar.
“Yes,” said Talon. “As you recall, I have a long day in the kitchen tomorrow, so do us all a favor and stop talking.’’
Demetrius looked at Talon, then at Rondar, and started to laugh. “That’s our Rondar, talk, talk, talk.’’
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Rondar pulled off his boots, grunted, and fell upon the bed.
Talon turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes, but sleep was a long time in coming.
__
Weeks passed, and the events of the night in which Gabrielle shared her vision with him faded. Talon found much of the work that was given to him routine and predictable, but there were always enough new lessons to maintain his interest. As Magnus had predicted, Rondar turned Talon into a fine horseman, and over the next few months the Orosini emerged as the most able swordsman on the island. It felt, however, something of a hollow honor, as most of the students on Sorcerer’s Isle spent little or no time studying weapons and their uses.
The magic classes were strange. He barely understood half the things under discussion, and seemed to have no natural aptitude for the subject at all. Once or twice he would get an odd feeling just before a spell was executed, and when he told Magnus and Nakor about this, they spent over an hour asking him to describe that feeling in great detail.