Читать книгу The Complete Conclave of Shadows Trilogy: Talon of the Silver Hawk, King of Foxes, Exile’s Return - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 23

TALON FROWNED.

‘Hold still, please,’ he pleaded.

Demetrius and Rondar both attempted to hold their poses for a moment longer, but at last Demetrius burst out, ‘I can’t do this!’

Talon threw his brush down in disgust. ‘All right. Let’s take a minute to relax.’

Rondar came around to where Talon had set up his easel with a treated piece of wood resting on it. He examined the portrait Talon was painting of the two young men and grunted. ‘Pretty good.’

Demetrius picked up an apple off the small table by the door and bit into it. Around a mouthful of fruit, he said, ‘Do you have any idea why they’re doing this?’

‘Doing what?’ asked Talon.

‘Making you learn to paint.’

Talon shrugged. ‘They have had me learning all manner of things over the last few years that don’t make a lot of sense to me. But I owe Robert de Lyis my life and he’s bound me over to Master Pug’s service, so I do what they tell me.’

‘But aren’t you the least bit curious?’ asked Demetrius.

‘Of course, but they’ll tell me what I need to know when I need to know it.’

Rondar sat down on a bed and said, ‘It’s simple.’

‘What?’ asked Demetrius, his freckled face resolving into a frown.

‘Why he paints,’ replied Rondar.

‘Well be so kind as to explain it to us, then, why don’t you?’ Demetrius looked at Talon who smiled.

Rondar shook his head as if it was obvious to any but a fool. Then he stood up, crossed the room and put his hand on Talon’s shoulder. ‘Talon: Mountain boy.’

‘Right,’ said Demetrius, his expression showing he wasn’t following so far.

‘Talon: Roldemish gentleman.’ With that, Rondar sat down.

Demetrius nodded as if understanding.

‘What?’ asked Talon, puzzled.

‘How many languages do you speak now?’

‘Six, including Orosini. I speak fluent Roldemish, King’s Tongue, the Common Tongue, pretty good Keshian; and I’m getting decent with Quegan – which is pretty close to ancient Keshian. Next I’m supposed to learn Yabonese.’

‘And you’re the best on the island with a sword.’

‘Yes,’ said Talon without modesty.

‘Do you play an instrument?’

‘A flute. Nakor showed me how to make one.’

‘Well?’

‘Well enough.’

‘You play chess, cards, dice, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re good at them, right?’

‘Yes,’ Talon repeated.

Demetrius grinned. ‘Rondar’s right. They’re going to pass you off as a gentleman of Roldem.’

‘Cook?’ asked Rondar.

Talon grinned. ‘Better than Besalamo, if I’m honest.’

‘That’s not saying much,’ observed Demetrius. ‘Look, if they start teaching you how to play more instruments and everything you need to know about wine and other such niceties, then Rondar’s right. The masters of this island are transforming you into a gentleman of Roldem.’

‘But why?’ asked Talon.

‘You’ll know when they tell you,’ Demetrius replied.

Talon pondered the possibility for a moment, then said, ‘All right. Back to your places. I told Master Maceus I’d have something to show him before supper.’

The two young men resumed their positions and Talon turned his mind away from the question of what he was being trained to do and back to the task at hand.

Master Maceus considered the portrait. After a while he said, ‘Passable.’

‘Thank you,’ Talon replied without much conviction. He was frustrated by the shortcomings he recognized in his work; the figures were stiff, unnatural, and showed little of the nature of his two friends.

‘You need work on the structure of the body,’ said his instructor.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I think your next study should be a nude.’

Talon raised an eyebrow. He had grown up in a culture in which the sight of the human body was no cause for notice, yet he had learned since coming away from the mountains of the Orosini that many other people viewed nakedness in a very different fashion. Some students swam nude in the lake, while others avoided those gatherings, preferring to swim and bathe alone, or wearing clothing designed for wear in the water. Others, like Rondar, avoided swimming altogether.

Talon had even discussed the matter with Nakor, which probably had been a poor choice, since his instructor had left him with more questions than answers. Even so, Talon felt compelled to ask, ‘Master Maceus?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are such paintings common?’

‘Common enough,’ said Maceus, though he added a self-conscious cough and remarked, ‘Though not often for public viewing. Private collections and the like. Still, statuary, that’s another story. Great heroes are often depicted in various stages of undress, their bodies showing magnificent wounds. But I’m not concerned about your ability to create something to titillate a bored noble; nor do I think you have the makings of a sculptor. It’s a matter of seeing below the surface, Talon.’ He pointed to the work on the easel and went on, ‘You’ve captured the surface of the boys, the overall sense of the planes and angles of their faces and clothing, but the muscles underneath, the curves of their shoulders, arms, chest – all that is missing. When you paint a portrait you must think of the body beneath, the spirit within: then you clothe the subject with your brushes and knives. When you look at the naked body, see the bone, sinew and muscle within, and clothe them in skin and hair. You’ll learn to understand this.’ With a rare smile, he added, ‘We may make a painter of you yet.’

Thinking of trying to persuade Rondar to stand in the room with no clothing, Talon said, ‘Should I seek another subject?’

‘Do not concern yourself. I’ll send someone along tomorrow.’

Talon nodded, thinking about what his instructor had said, and slowly began to clear away his brushes and paints.

Talon hurried from the kitchen. He had been assigned breakfast duty and had been up for two hours before the rest of the community had arisen. He had spent the entire time in the kitchen, until the afternoon crew had come aboard. He was to have returned to his quarters to meet the model for his new painting, but Nakor had found him and sent him off on an errand, telling him he’d meet the model later.

It had taken almost all of the afternoon for Talon to finish Nakor’s bidding, and now he was ready to return to his quarters to take a quick bath before supper. But when he got there, he found Rondar and Demetrius picking up the wooden chest that held Talon’s belongings. ‘What’s going on?’ Talon asked.

‘Moving,’ said Rondar.

‘We’re moving?’

‘You’re moving,’ said Demetrius. ‘I don’t know why, but we just got orders to take all your things down to that little cottage by the lake. You know the one.’

Talon grinned. The cottage was often used by students for assignations after hours. Then his grin faded. If he was being assigned that hut as quarters, any number of students would be less than thrilled.

As if reading his mind, Rondar said, ‘They can use the stable.’

Demetrius laughed. ‘He’s right. There are plenty of other places to get friendly. I’m partial to the baths after dark, myself. Water’s still very warm, it’s quiet …’ He grunted theatrically as he lifted the trunk, but Talon knew it wasn’t heavy, just big.

He let them go past him and out through the door, then fell in behind them. ‘My bed?’

‘Moved an hour ago,’ said Demetrius. ‘Along with your painting gear. We just couldn’t get this trunk into the wagon with the rest.’

‘Why?’ asked Talon. ‘I don’t have much, certainly not enough to fill a wagon.’

Demetrius again grinned. ‘You’d be surprised.’

They moved down the hall to where the now-empty wagon waited, and loaded the trunk. In a few minutes they were bumping along down the track that led from the village, past the lake, to the small hut.

It might once have been a charcoal-burner’s hut, or perhaps the hut of a gamekeeper, but it had for some reason fallen out of use and been uninhabited for years. When they got there, Demetrius reined in the horse and Talon jumped down from the back of the wagon. He and Rondar got the trunk down and manoeuvred it to where Demetrius stood, holding open the door.

As he stepped into the cottage, Talon stopped stock-still. Then he said softly, ‘I’ll be …’

‘The girls were in here yesterday cleaning, and Rondar and I moved everything else,’ Demetrius said.

‘But where did all this come from?’ asked Talon, indicating the room.

The cottage was spacious, larger than the hut he had shared with Magnus. A hearth complete with spit and an iron cauldron on a hook for stews and soups waited for a fire. A free-standing pantry had been placed near at hand, and a small table occupied the corner between the pantry and the fireplace. His bed rested against the opposite wall, near the door, and at the foot of it had placed a large wooden wardrobe. Talon and Rondar set the trunk down next to the wardrobe. Talon opened its door and exclaimed, ‘Look at this!’

Fine garments, of various colours and cuts, hung neatly inside.

Rondar said, ‘Gentleman.’

Demetrius nodded. ‘Seems to be the case. But why here I have no idea.’

Looking at one doublet, with enough eyelets and fasteners to confound the eye, Talon said, ‘To practise getting dressed, I suppose. Look at these things.’

Hose, leggings, trousers, singlets, doublets, waistcoats, all hung neatly from wooden rods and hangers. In the bottom of the wardrobe half a dozen different types of boots and shoes were neatly arranged.

Then Talon caught sight of the far corner. ‘Books!’ he exclaimed with pleasure. He crossed the room to examine the titles on the shelves there. ‘All new to me,’ he said quietly.

‘Well,’ said Demetrius, ‘we’re for supper. I’ve been told to tell you you’re on your own for a while. Someone will bring you your supper tonight and some other provisions, and then you’re to keep to yourself for a while.’

Talon knew better than to ask why. No one would have told Demetrius.

Rondar pointed to the easel. ‘Practise.’

‘Yes,’ said Talon. ‘I guess they want me to focus on that, and these other things.’

‘We’ll see you around, I’m sure,’ said Demetrius. ‘Come along, Rondar. Let’s get the wagon back to the stable.’

The two friends left, and Talon sat down and drank in his new surroundings. It was strange to think that, at least for a short while, this would be his home, and it filled him with an odd melancholy. He had never lived alone, not since the day of his birth. The only significant time he had been by himself had been upon Shatana Higo, waiting for his vision.

He sat quietly, letting the mood sweep through him. He remembered what he had been taught and allowed the nostalgic longing for his childhood to pass through him; he would not engage that sorrow now. He would acknowledge it and renew his vow that some day his people would be avenged; and then he would let it go.

Twilight was upon him before he realized it. He was just lighting a lamp when he heard a wagon pull up outside the hut. It must be his supper, he thought.

He opened the door and almost fell over backwards to get out of the way of Alysandra, who marched purposely into the room carrying a steaming kettle of something wonderful. Behind her a voice called, ‘I’ll unload.’

‘Thanks, Jom,’ she said over her shoulder.

‘What are you doing here?’ Talon asked.

‘I’ve brought you your supper,’ she said. ‘Didn’t they tell you?’

‘They told me someone was bringing it, but not who,’ he answered, then felt foolish for having said it.

She smiled, then removed the light cloak she had around her shoulders. Underneath it she wore a simple dress, off the shoulders, and her hair fell around her face. Talon felt his chest tighten.

He stood there speechless for a long moment, then said, ‘I’ll help Jom.’

She smiled and turned to find plates and cups.

Jom handed down two large sacks to Talon and said, ‘I’ve got more in that box, there.’

‘What is it?’

‘Food. You’re supposed to cook for yourself, I was to tell you. Practise what Leo taught you. Whoever he was and whatever it was he taught you,’ Jom added. He took up a third sack and jumped down from the wagon.

Talon picked up the food and carried it inside. ‘Better dig a cold cellar out back,’ said Jom as he put down the sack. ‘Got some ham and a quarter of beef coming tomorrow, I was told to tell you. There’s a shovel and some tools in a shed out there, if you didn’t know.’

‘Thanks,’ said Talon as Jom went out of the door.

Talon turned, expecting to see Alysandra moving to follow Jom, but instead she stood at the table, ladling out portions of stew into a pair of bowls. ‘Ah … you’re staying?’ asked Talon.

She waved for him to sit, and produced a bottle of wine. Then she poured two mugfuls, pulled out one of the two small stools that had been stored beneath the table and sat down. ‘Yes, I’m going eat with you. Didn’t they tell you?’

Talon sat down. ‘Apparently everyone else got told except me.’ He could hardly take his eyes off Alysandra, but each time she glanced at him, he looked away.

She laughed. ‘It’s like that sometimes around here, isn’t it?’

‘It’s like that a lot around here,’ he replied, and she laughed again.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Talon said, ‘I’m pleased you’re here, really, but … well … what are you doing here?’

‘Oh, didn’t Master Maceus tell you that, either?’

‘No,’ said Talon. ‘As I said, no one has been telling me much of anything.’

‘I’m going to be staying here with you. I’m your new model.’

Talon put down his mug. He could not believe what she had said. ‘You’re the model.’

‘Yes, for the nude study you’re doing.’

Talon felt his cheeks begin to burn, but he forced himself to calmness. Obviously, she had no problem posing for him, so he needn’t feel uncomfortable, he decided. Despite this, however, he couldn’t eat, so he put the contents of his plate back in the pot. ‘I’m not really hungry,’ he said weakly. ‘I was in the kitchen all day and you know how it is, a bite here, a bit of a nibble there.’

She smiled and said nothing.

When she had finished her supper, she said, ‘Fetch me some water from the lake, and I’ll clear up.’

Glad for the excuse to be alone for a moment, Talon hurried to comply with her request, taking the large oak bucket from beside the door and hurried down to the lake. A small stream fed the lake and Talon filled the bucket there, where the water was freshest. He lugged it back and found that Alysandra had already cleared the table and put the plates and cups on the rack outside next to the door. When he appeared, she took the water from him without comment and quickly washed up.

Talon went inside, agonizing over what to say next to her. But before he had been able to think of anything, she stepped into the doorway and paused there, letting herself be framed in it. ‘It’s warm tonight,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ said Talon, realizing that he was perspiring, but certain it had nothing to do with the weather. ‘It’s a bit warm.’

Suddenly she was undressing. ‘Let’s go for a swim.’

Talon sat in mute astonishment as she quickly removed her dress. Seeing his expression, she laughed. ‘Get used to seeing me this way, Talon. You’re going to be painting me for a while, remember.’

‘I suppose so,’ he said, watching as she turned and hurried down to the water.

‘Come on!’ she ordered, laughing at his obvious discomfort.

Talon stripped off his boots, tunic, and trousers, and ran after her. Alysandra was already splashing into the water by the time he reached the shore. He ran into the water and executed a shallow dive. Coming up, he wiped his hair back and said, ‘This feels wonderful.’

She swam over to him. ‘Yes, doesn’t it?’

Talon ducked his head beneath the water and came up again. ‘I missed bathing today, and I think I needed this.’

‘You didn’t smell any worse than usual,’ she said.

‘Huh?’ he said, stunned by the remark. ‘I smell bad?’

She laughed. ‘It’s a joke, you simpleton.’ Then she began to splash him.

He splashed back, and quickly they were drenching one another as if they were children. Then they swam for nearly an hour, until the large moon rose in the east, and finally Alysandra said, ‘Time to get out.’

‘I didn’t bring towelling or robes,’ Talon said, as if he should have thought of such things.

‘It’s warm. We’ll be half-dry by the time we get back to the hut.’

They left the water and walked along side by side. Talon couldn’t take his eyes from the way her body was bathed in the moonlight. She was slender, as he had known she would be, but her breasts were larger than he had imagined, and her hips were narrower than he had expected, almost boyish from certain angles.

‘You’re staring.’

He flushed. ‘Sorry, but I was thinking of how best to pose you.’

She glanced away. ‘Oh. Of course.’

Embarrassed, Talon realized that his body had started to respond to the sight of her. He wished he could creep away and die, but luckily Alysandra ignored his embarrassment. When they reached the hut, Talon stopped at the door. ‘I just realized …’

‘What?’ she said, turning to face him.

‘There’s only one bed.’

‘Of course,’ she said, stepping forward until she was pressed up against him. Arms snaked around his neck and suddenly her face was in front of him, and her mouth was upon his. Talon hesitated but only for an instant, then he pulled her into him and everything else in the world was forgotten.

‘What is that you’re whistling?’ she asked.

‘Hold still,’ Talon commanded, with a grin. ‘Some tune, I don’t know. Something I made up.’

‘I like it. Can you play it on the pipe?’

‘I think so,’ he said, stepping back to look at the painting he had begun that morning, the third since Alysandra had come to the hut. For the first time since taking up the brush he was confident, and the first sketch he had made required little correction. He was now applying paint in blocks and patches, giving colour to a black-on-white image, and before his eyes he could see it taking form.

He had spent the first night with her in a state of euphoria. He had never imagined he could feel for any woman the way he did for Alysandra. She was sweet, warm, passionate and giving, as well as insistent and demanding in a playful and arousing manner.

They had hardly slept, save for brief naps between bouts of lovemaking. Finally, she had announced that hunger was making it impossible to sleep and he cooked while she bathed in the lake. He took a quick swim while she ate, then returned and wolfed down bread and cheese, a gulp or two of wine, and then dragged her back to bed.

Somehow between lovemaking, eating and sleeping, he had contrived to dig the cellar in the rear of the property next to the abandoned shed. He had been delighted to discover that someone had started the same project years before, and most of the hole was already dug, so that he only had to clear away years of accumulated detritus and brush, and then trim the sides, dig out steps, and measure a door.

He finished the task on the second day. The meat, ale, wine and cheese, along with a basket of fruit now rested in the cool cellar. Since then, he had devoted himself to one thing only, Alysandra.

He stepped back from the painting and made a considering noise. ‘Hmmm …’

She dropped her pose and came over to look. ‘That’s me?’

‘Yes,’ he said in mock seriousness. ‘It’ll start looking more like you as I refine the details.’

‘If you say so.’ She came around behind him and hugged him. Then she let her hands drop down along his stomach and with mock surprise said, ‘My, what’s that?’

He turned in the circle of her arms, kissed her, and said, ‘Let me show you.’

For the entire summer, they lived an idyllic life. Occasionally Master Maceus would come to review Talon’s work and would find ways to improve it; yet he never criticized. As autumn drew on, Talon was finishing his twelfth portrait, this one of Alysandra reclining on the bed.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, applying further details he had just noticed. Now he was starting to seek perfection in the work.

‘About what?’ she asked with a smile.

‘About what is to come next.’

‘Another painting?’ she said with a grin.

‘No, I mean about us.’

Suddenly her smile vanished. She stood up and quickly moved to stand in front of him. Without the slightest hint of warmth she raised her right hand and put her index finger over his mouth. ‘Shush,’ she admonished. ‘There is nothing to think about. We just are here, now, and that’s all that matters.’

‘But—’

She pressed her finger hard and there was a flash in her eyes he had never seen before. ‘I said shush.’ Then her smile returned, but there was a hardness to it that was new to Talon. She reached down and stroked him, saying, ‘I know how to make you stop thinking about things best left ignored.’

He felt a twinge of concern, for he glimpsed something in her that was alien to him, and a little frightening. Yet as always, her touch inflamed him, and moments later all concerns had fled before his passion.

The next day the rain came. They awoke to the sound of it tattooing the roof of the cottage, and Talon soon found there were half a dozen leaks to plug. He made do with wadding cloth; the roof was daubed thatch, and he would have to wait until it dried before he could patch it properly.

After eating, Alysandra rose and began to dress. He said, ‘Going somewhere?’

‘Back to the estate,’ she said in flat tones.

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘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 door jamb 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.