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

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      Caleb glanced over and saw Talon agape. ‘What do you see?’

      Talon knew that question. Robert asked it all the time, as did Marcus when he was tutoring Talon. It wasn’t about his impressions or feelings, but rather the detail of what he observed: facts as Robert put it.

      Talon instantly became analytical. ‘The city has a wall around it, extending into the water … I’d judge a hundred yards or more into the water.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘There’s a large building in the middle of the city that rises high enough to overlook everything for miles. I don’t know what it’s called.’

      ‘It’s called a citadel. It was once a castle erected to defend this lake shore. The city grew up around it.’

      ‘There are five large … things that stick out into the water.’

      ‘Docks.’

      Talon’s eyes wandered for a moment and then he was struck by the size of the lake. Surely this couldn’t be just a lake. It must be a sea.

      Caleb’s voice jerked him out of his reverie. ‘What else?’

      Talon began to list the details that appeared to his almost supernatural sight. Each time he encountered something alien he would struggle to describe it, Caleb would supply the word and he would move on.

      As they passed down the road, heading towards the plain upon which the city rested, Talon lost his vantage point and was forced to rely upon memory. When they reached a stand of trees which cut off all sight of the city, Caleb said, ‘You did well. You missed things, but you’re new to this business of paying attention.’

      ‘Paying attention to what?’ asked Talon.

      Caleb smiled – a rare occurrence – and he said, ‘Why to everything. You pay attention to everything.’

      ‘Why?’

      They worked their way along the road, through the woods and past a meadow as Talon waited for his answer. At last Caleb said, ‘When you hunt, to what do you pay attention to?’

      ‘To everything,’ answered Talon. ‘The direction of the wind, the scents upon the air, the sounds of the woods, to anything that has left tracks.’

      Caleb nodded. ‘Always think of yourself as being on the hunt.’

      ‘Always?’ asked Talon.

      ‘Always.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because it’ll keep you alive,’ said Caleb.

      They rode in silence for another hour before reaching a crossroads and an inn. It was an hour after midday and Caleb said, ‘We’ll rest the horses and eat here. Then we’ll be in the city by supper.’

      Talon had no argument. They had spent two days on the road, and while sleeping under the wagon had been no burden, he welcomed the idea of a hot meal.

      The inn was a tiny place, a way-stop for those few people who either found themselves just a little too late in the day to reach Latagore or who, like Caleb and Talon, were stopping for a midday meal. The sign above the door showed a man holding a pitchfork in one hand and a large mug in the other. The paint on the sign was faded, but Talon could see that the man’s expression was one of sublime happiness.

      ‘What is this place?’ he asked Caleb quietly as the wagon ground to a halt.

      ‘It is called the Happy Farmer Inn.’

      Hearing the wagon, a boy appeared from out the back and listened as Caleb instructed him on how to take care of the two horses. As the wagon was empty, the horses were still fit and required only water and some hay. They would need more rest and grain on the long climb back up into the hills with the wagon loaded.

      Caleb led Talon into the inn and crossed to an empty table in the corner. He removed his black slouch hat and adjusted the sword at his side so that he could sit comfortably at the table, and then motioned for Talon to sit down opposite him.

      A middle-aged woman with an agreeable manner approached and asked their pleasure. Caleb ordered a meal and ale for both of them and then sat back to observe the other customers.

      The common room was quiet, with only four other men taking their midday ease. Two were obviously traders of some fashion, portly men in sturdy but finely-fashioned travel clothing. The other two sat at the next table, heads together, speaking quietly. They appeared to be fighting men of some stripe; both wore simple clothing – tunics, trousers and over-jackets – but no jewellery was evident to Talon. However, their boots and weapons were well cared for, which Talon took to mean they spent a lot of time walking and fighting.

      Food was brought and Talon and Caleb ate in silence. The meal wasn’t as good as what was served at Kendrick’s, but it was filling and the young man found the ale satisfactory.

      Before they had finished, Talon saw all four other men rise and leave together. After they had gone, Caleb asked, ‘Who do you judge them to be?’

      ‘Two merchants on their way to Latagore, with two guards to accompany them.’

      ‘A fair assumption. Though I wager something more was in the wind.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I mean it’s not unusual for guards to eat near their employers, at a separate table, as those two did, but they seemed intent upon a topic they wished their employers not to overhear. They spent the entire meal in deep conversation.’

      Talon shrugged. ‘I’m not sure what this means,’ he said.

      ‘It means nothing, except that it was not “business as usual” for the guards. One didn’t touch his meal.’ He indicated the table where the two guards had sat, and Talon saw that one plate was indeed untouched.

      Talon had served enough guards and mercenaries during the year at Kendrick’s to know that most of them ate whatever was in front of them as if it might be their last meal. ‘All right, Caleb. What do you think this means?’

      ‘There was no wagon in sight either in the stableyard behind the inn as we approached, or on either side of the building, but there were four horses being looked after by the boy who came to take our wagon.’

      Talon reflected upon what he had seen and what he knew of travelling merchants. ‘So, this would mean that those two merchants were travelling to buy goods in Latagore?’

      ‘Or to arrange for transport somewhere else, but they are not selling wares in the city.’

      ‘Which means they are carrying gold.’

      ‘Perhaps, but the two mercenaries they hired are likely to assume as much.’

      Talon hurried to finish his meal.

      ‘What are you doing?’ asked Caleb.

      ‘We’re going to hurry after them and help, aren’t we?’

      ‘We are not,’ СКАЧАТЬ