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

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       • CHAPTER SIX •

       Latagore

      TALON GAWKED.

      He had remained silent as they had approached the city, reaching one of the western gates an hour before nightfall. He had been astonished at the size of Latagore as they had drawn near, but as they reached the outer boundaries of the city, he was dumbfounded.

      Nothing in his experience had prepared him for the sight of so many people living so close to one another. The bustle and noise threatened to overwhelm him at first, then he began to drink in the sights and sounds.

      Peddlers hovered near the gates of the city, hawking a variety of wares to any within the sound of their voices – trinkets, good luck tokens, items whose nature was unknown to Talon. Many who approached were ragged beggars, offering blessings to those who would aide them and curses to those who ignored them.

      Caleb glanced over at the speechless lad and said, ‘Better close your mouth before a bird builds a nest in it.’

      ‘So many people,’ Talon gasped.

      Dustin Webanks looked over his shoulder at the boy. ‘Never been to a city before?’

      ‘No, sir.’

      The prisoner, who’d been content to ride along in sullen silence, except for an occasional grunt of pain when the wagon bounced especially hard, said, ‘This is nothing, boy. If you ever get down to Opardum or Kalesh’kaar, then you’d be seeing something. Latagore here is hardly big enough to rightly be called a city. More like an oversized town.’

      Caleb grunted. ‘Big enough city to have a guard and plenty of rope.’ To Talon he said, ‘This gate’s the one you want when coming into the city. Most of the locals use it, because the other gates are used by travellers and caravans, so getting through takes time. That’s why it’s called the Locals’ Gate.’

      ‘How many gates are there?’ asked Talon, thinking of the simple stockade around his village with its single gate.

      ‘I believe this city has twenty … four? Yes, twenty-four gates.’

      They pulled into a queue of people waiting to be admitted to the city before night fell and the gates were closed. Only two wagons and a band of men on horseback were in front of them, so they quickly reached the portal.

      ‘Ho, Roderick!’ shouted Caleb as he reined in.

      ‘Caleb!’ cried a soldier in the deep forest green uniform of the city. ‘You here to sell or buy?’

      ‘Buying,’ said Caleb. ‘We’re empty coming in.’

      The soldier motioned him through.

      Caleb said, ‘Can we drop off a bandit?’

      A quick discussion with the soldier resulted in their prisoner being taken away. Dustin Webanks left them as well, to press charges with the magistrate, promising them a reward should they seek him out the next day at the Sign of the Running Footman.

      Caleb drove the wagon through the city, heading to an inn where those from Kendrick’s stayed when they were in the city. As darkness fell, they reached a cheery-looking building with a large stabling yard on the right. The sign hung outside it showed a man throwing balls into the air while blindfolded. A young man of roughly the same age as Talon appeared at the sound of the wagon’s arrival.

      ‘Ho, Caleb!’ he shouted, upon seeing who was driving the wagon.

      ‘Jacob!’ Caleb returned.

      The young man had sandy hair and a raw-boned, rangy look. He wore a simple cotton shirt and leather trousers, with heavy work boots. He took the horses in hand and said, ‘Who’s your friend?’

      ‘Talon, this is Jacob.’

      Talon nodded and jumped down from the wagon.

      ‘Father will be glad to see you,’ said Jacob. ‘He’s got some more hunting stories for you.’

      ‘He found time to go hunting?’ asked Caleb.

      With a grin, Jacob answered, ‘No, but he’s got some new stories.’

      Caleb smiled. ‘’Tis ever thus.’

      They left the wagon to Jacob’s care and entered the inn. A plump woman brightened as she saw Caleb. She hurried around from behind the long bar and threw her arms around him. ‘Caleb, you rascal! It’s been too long between visits! We haven’t seen you since last summer!’

      If the usually taciturn hunter was discomfited by the overwhelming embrace, he bore up with good grace, and when at last she released him, he said, ‘Hello, Angelica.’ СКАЧАТЬ