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

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      ‘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.

       • CHAPTER NINE •

       Confusion

      TALON BLINKED.

      He was reading another Kingdom language book, this one a chronicle of the life and times of a merchant of Krondor, named Rupert Avery. The merchant before his death had commissioned the tale and had it published, a paean to his own vanity, from Talon’s point of view. The story was badly written and improbable to say the least, for if the tale as told by Avery was to be believed, he was instrumental in Kingdom history, almost single-handedly defeating the agents of chaos attempting to conquer his nation.

      Talon judged it a story fit for a talker around the campfire, but only if more attention was paid to the warriors and magicians in the tale and less to a boy who grew rich. He tilted the chair he was sitting on back against the wall. He was beginning to understand the concept of wealth. Other people seemed to delight in amassing it. He was Orosini, and from his point of view anything you couldn’t eat, wear, or use was a luxury. And collecting luxuries after a certain point was a waste of time and energy.

      Yet with his understanding of the concept of wealth, he was beginning to understand the concept of power. For reasons alien to him, there were those who lusted after power as much as this Avery had lusted after wealth. Men like the Duke of Olasko who wanted nothing so much as to wear a crown and be called King, though from what Caleb and Magnus had told him, he might just as well be called King in the lands of Olasko and Aranor right now.

      Talon rocked his chair forward again and put the book on the table. He had been alone for three days because Magnus was off on one of his mysterious journeys. Talon had been given a set of tasks by the magician, some reading – which Talon enjoyed now that he had been reading for over a year – practising a strange series of moves, almost like dance, which the magician had taught him. Magnus claimed that the dance was a form of open-handed fighting, called Isalani, if Talon had it right, and that years of studying it would make him more proficient in other areas of combat. He also had to keep the hut clean and feed himself.

      It filled most of his day, but what time he had left he used to explore, though Magnus had instructed him to stay on the north shore of the island. To the south a ridge of hills rose up, perhaps half a day’s easy walk, and Magnus had instructed him not to climb those hills or pass along the beach south of them. Magnus didn’t explain why he should not go south, or what would happen if he ignored the instruction, but Talon was not inclined to challenge the magician.

      A great deal of Talon’s life was now centred around waiting. He was waiting to discover what he was being trained to do, for now he was certain Robert and the others had a purpose for him.

      His education was proceeding at a fast pace: languages – he was now almost fluent in the King’s Tongue, СКАЧАТЬ