Читать книгу The Complete Conclave of Shadows Trilogy: Talon of the Silver Hawk, King of Foxes, Exile’s Return - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 19

TALON SAT UP.

His heart raced as he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and for a moment he was disoriented. Meggie stirred next to him and he glanced over and felt more disorientation, though this time it was emotional. How easy it had been to let Lela become a dim memory while he was in Meggie’s arms.

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.’

‘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 meagre 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 was 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 towards 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 onto 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.

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.

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 towards 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 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 onto 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.

After a moment, his fear abated and he looked in all 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 of Roldem speaking that Magnus was attempting to make him sound as much like a noble of Roldem 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.’

‘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.’

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 towards 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.’

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 forwards 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.

‘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 explain 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.

‘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 in 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 some day.’

‘Where?’

‘In Yabon Province of the Kingdom of Isles. Many settled in the city of LaMut.’

‘Ah,’ said Talon as if he understood.

They stood there in silence for another half an hour, then Talon said, ‘We don’t seem to be doing very well.’

‘At catching fish?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s because we’re using the wrong bait.’

Talon looked at his teacher in surprise. ‘The wrong bait?’

‘We might hook a bottom feeder or a shark with dried meat, but if we wanted something lively, we should have put a fresh mackerel on the hook.’

‘Then why are we doing this?’

‘Because fishing isn’t about catching fish.’ The magician looked into the water and Talon felt the hair on his arms rise, which meant Magnus was about to use magic. ‘There,’ he said pointing. He motioned upward with his right hand and something large seemed to leap out of the sea. It was about the size of a small horse, and covered in red scales and had a lethal-looking array of teeth. Once out of the water it thrashed about in mid-air, attempting to bite at whatever unseen foe held it aloft.

With a flick of his wrist, Magnus let the fish fall back into the waves. ‘If I want fish, I take fish.’

‘Then why do we stand here with these poles?’

‘For the pleasure of it,’ said Magnus. ‘It’s a way to relax, to think, to ponder.’

Despite feeling completely silly holding the pole, Talon nevertheless found himself reverting to the lessons he had learned about the process of dragging a hook through the surf.

As the day grew late, he said, ‘Magnus, may I ask you something?’

‘How am I to teach you if you don’t?’

‘Well …’

‘Out with it,’ said Magnus, making another cast into the surf. The wind was picking up, blowing the magician’s white hair back from his face.

‘I’m confused about something.’

‘What?’

‘Women.’

Magnus turned to stare at Talon. ‘Something specific about women, or just women in general?’

‘In general, I suppose.’

‘You’re hardly the first man to say that.’

‘So I’ve come to understand,’ said Talon. ‘It’s just that among my people, things between men and women were … predictable. Your bride was selected before you returned from your vision quest, and you married shortly afterwards. You stayed with one woman …’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’ve already known two women, and I’m wed to neither.’

‘This bothers you?’

‘Yes … no … I don’t know.’

Magnus planted his pole in the sand and walked over to Talon. ‘I can tell you little, my young friend. My experience in this area is very limited.’

Talon looked at the magician. ‘You don’t like women?’

Magnus smiled. ‘No, it’s not that … I had some experience when I was young … about your age. It’s just that some of us who practise the magic arts prefer to stay aloof. Matters of the heart confound things.’ He looked out at the sea. ‘I like to think I gain clarity by avoiding such things.’ He looked back at Talon. ‘But you and I are set upon different paths. What is your question?’

‘I was … with Lela, for a while. I thought perhaps we might …’ Talon looked down at the sand, feeling very self-conscious. ‘I thought we might even wed.’

Glancing at Magnus he saw the magic-user betray an instant of amusement, but then his face became once again an immobile mask.

Talon continued. ‘But when I returned from Latagore with Caleb, she was gone. I barely had time to think about not seeing her again when Meggie …’

‘Ah,’ said Magnus. ‘You were with her when I woke you that morning, that’s right.’

‘Well, how can I feel so strongly for Lela, yet so easily find myself with Meggie? And I didn’t even think about Lela the whole time we were together.’

Magnus nodded. ‘Let me ask you, if I could bring either girl here this instant, who would you wish to see?’

Talon stood silently, holding his fishing pole. ‘I don’t know,’ he answered at last. ‘I thought I loved Lela … I do love her. But there’s something about the way Meggie … moves. She’s … ardent. That’s the word isn’t it?’

Magnus fell silent for a moment, then he said, ‘The ways of the heart are complex.’ He looked out at the ocean again. ‘The waves churn and break upon the rocks, Talon. So do human feelings. Passion can be a man’s undoing. With passion must come wisdom, otherwise your enemies have a weapon to use against you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Most men are passionate about something, at some time in their lives. It may be about a woman he loves, or his calling or craft, or it may be about an ideal.’

‘An ideal?’

Magnus nodded. ‘There are men who would willingly give their lives for an ideal. Men who put the greater good ahead of their own personal gain.’ He looked at Talon. ‘Then there are the dark passions: ambition, greed, lust, a hunger for power.

‘What you feel for Lela and Meggie is somewhere between those extremes, between the ideal and the dark. At its worst, what you feel is blind lust, without regard for the complexities of the women you pursue. At its most ideal, you will fall under the spell of women too easily, thinking each worthy of selfless adoration.

‘Either extreme is a mistake.’

Talon nodded his understanding.

‘You are young. There will be many women in your life if you want them. But circumstances may place you in such a position where you must discern the truth quickly, as to whether it is mere lust or if there is some deeper love involved.

‘Both young women you have known are good women, for the most part. At least they had no evil designs upon you. They cared for you in their way, and you for them. But I also remember what it was like to be your age, to gaze into a pair of green eyes and be swept away by feelings so intense I thought my heart would stop, only to have the feelings repeated just a few short days later when gazing into brown eyes.

‘That is the heart of a young man, Talon. It must be tamed and reined in, like a fractious colt. It must be made to follow the mind, for you will learn that love is a difficult thing.’

‘I don’t know if you’ve answered my question.’

‘I don’t know if you’ve understood what it was you were asking.’ Magnus picked up his pole, reeled in the line and cast it out in the surf again. ‘We’ll speak more about this, soon. And before too long there will be others you can ask about such things. Others who are more able than me to address your concerns.’

‘Thank you, Magnus.’

‘Think nothing of it. You will have many more questions for me before our time on this island is over.’

‘How much longer will I be staying here?’

‘As long as it takes.’

‘As long as what takes?’

‘Whatever it is we are to accomplish,’ answered Magnus.

Talon started to ask another question, then thought better of it.

The afternoon wore on and Talon grew hungry. ‘Are we likely to catch any dinner here?’

‘Getting hungry?’

‘Yes, actually.’

‘Do you know how to cook fish?’

Talon had prepared a number of fish dishes with Leo. ‘I do, but you have only the kettle and spit to cook upon. I suppose I could fashion a chowder …’

‘No,’ said Magnus. ‘I was thinking about something a bit more refined. We’ve been eating soups and roasts for a month or more. Let us have some fine dining tonight.’

‘How shall I prepare such a meal?’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Magnus. ‘First we must find you a proper main course.’ He closed his eyes and then opened them again, and Talon thought he saw a faint sheen of light upon them. Magnus held out his hand, palm up, then slowly raised it. From out of the sea came a fish, something close to four foot long. Magnus motioned and the creature floated through the air and dropped at Talon’s feet. The fish flopped and writhed upon the sand.

‘Be careful, those fins can actually cut you if you grab it too firmly.’

Talon looked at Magnus. ‘I’m to carry it up to the hut?’

‘How else will you get it there?’ asked the magician.

Talon attempted to pick up the thrashing creature, but found it both slippery and heavy. ‘Is there something I can hit it with, to stun it?’ he asked after several exasperating attempts to subdue the fish.

‘Oh.’ said Magnus. With a flick of his hand, the fish fell quiet. ‘It’s still alive, so it will be fresh when you fillet it. This creature is called a tuna, and you can grill it lightly, with a variety of different spices. A lightly seasoned rice and an assortment of steamed vegetables would complement it nicely. And some chilled white wine – perhaps an off-dry from Ravensburgh.’

Talon picked up the huge fish and looked at the steep path up to the bluff. ‘Anything else?’

‘If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.’

Talon trekked slowly back up the trail, and by the time he reached the hut he was in considerable pain. His arms and shoulders were in knots and his knees shook. The fish must weigh almost as much as he did, he was certain. He wondered what he was supposed to do with it. He could gut it on the table, but it would be messy. Perhaps on the ground outside, then he could wash way the offal with well water. That should get the dirt off it. And if the fillets were large enough, he could spit and roast them.

But where was he going to find rice, or spices? The food so far at Magnus’s hut had been plain, to put it kindly.

He put the fish down, relieved to do so, and stood up, his back rewarding him with a spasm of pain to remind him not to attempt such a foolish thing again. He rubbed at it with the knuckles of his left hand while opening the door with his right.

He stepped inside the hut and almost fell over in shock. Instead of the small interior he had come to know so well, he was standing in a large kitchen. Larger than the hut. He glanced backwards out of the door, and saw the familiar landscape in front of the hut, but the inside of the hut was still quite different.

He took in a large preparation table with a pump where he could clean the fish, and beyond it a stone stove. Next to the stove, a fire burned beneath a metal grill. He saw shelves on the distant back wall and had no doubt there would be spices and rice there. And he was certain that the door would lead to a wine cellar where he’d find just the right chilled white wine to serve with dinner.

‘How did he do this?’ Talon murmured softly to himself.