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

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СКАЧАТЬ in the Empire’s southern reaches. Dialects and languages strange to the ear could be heard in every market and inn.

      Caleb took him to see famous sights: the remaining portion of the sea wall, which had been destroyed during the Serpentwar when, according to legend, the armies of the Emerald Queen had invaded from across the sea and the entire city was virtually destroyed. Talon had to pause when Caleb told the story to remind himself that Caleb was speaking of his own grandmother, who had been enslaved by a demon. Talon judged that many of the tales told around the campfire in his boyhood might need to be re-evaluated, rather than merely dismissed as folk tales.

      He visited Barrett’s Coffee House, where finance, as complex and mysterious as magic, was conducted. He had a vague sense of what the place meant to the economy of the Kingdom from his reading of the life of Rupert Avery, who had been a businessman of some fame at Barrett’s. They went to see the palace, though they observed it from a respectful distance, for while Caleb hinted at some past relationship between his family and the crown, there seemed no plausible reason to gain entrance. Nor any motive, for that matter, apart from curiosity. Talon felt a mild interest in these things, as he did with anything that was alien to his experience. Now when he reflected upon his childhood, he realized how little of the world he had known as a boy; but even so he remembered with clarity how much he thought he understood of it. Such had been the heritage of his people, who were content to live out their lives in the mountains as their ancestors had done before them. Generations passed with little change among the Orosini, and it seemed a good life. Talon looked around the city, taking in the crowds clogging the streets and wondered if perhaps that was one thing his people had correctly apprehended – the quality of a good life. Certainly, most of the people he viewed as they passed were evidencing little by way of joy. Most were intent upon the business at hand, or making their way somewhere in a great hurry. A few children played in the streets, but only the very young; the older children seemed to be banded together in groups of ten or more and often could be seen running with a constable of the law in pursuit.

      They travelled with the caravan through the Western Realm, through rolling hills and into low mountains not unlike those of his homeland. But where those mountains had been populated by folk living in villages of wooden huts and stockades, these mountains boasted towns and castles. In Ravensburgh they had the finest wine Talon had tasted, and he asked many questions of the innkeeper. He stole an hour to seek out a winemaker and plied him with questions, too.

      Demetrius had said at some point that their masters would be teaching Talon about wine, and he now thought this would be a good thing.

      The journey continued to the town of Malac’s Cross, and there they bade goodbye to the caravan master. After a night spent sleeping in a relatively clean room, Caleb secured two fine horses and they set off to the east.

      As they rode towards the rising sun, Talon said, ‘Caleb, am I to ever discover what it is we are doing?’

      Caleb laughed. ‘I suppose it matters little if I tell you now or tell you when we reach Salador.’

      ‘Then tell me now, for I am afire with curiosity.’

      Caleb said, ‘In Salador we shall finish with your education in manners and breeding. For a year or more you will learn at least two musical instruments – the lute and another, perhaps a horn or pipe. You will learn even more about the culinary arts, though you are well on your way, having tutored under Leo. And you will learn more about manners of the court, costumes appropriate for all occasions, and how to comport yourself with persons of any rank. You will learn to judge wine and you will learn to sing, though I suspect this last matter may be a lost cause.’

      Talon laughed. ‘I can sing.’

      ‘I’ve heard you, and I’d hardly call it singing.’

      ‘But to what ends does all this training in the art of being a man gentle born lead?’

      Caleb switched from the King’s Tongue, which they had been speaking since arriving in Krondor, to Roldemish. ‘Because in a year’s time, my young friend, you shall journey to the island kingdom of Roldem, and there you shall enroll in the Masters’ Court. And if the fates are kind, we shall establish you there as a minor noble, a distant cousin of a noteworthy family, rich in heritage but poor in resources, and as such employable.’

      ‘The Masters’ Court? Kendrick told me a little about it. He said the finest swordsmen in the world trained there.’

      ‘And that, my friend, is your task. For when you leave Roldem, you must be counted as the best of them all. You must be counted as the greatest swordsman in the world.’

      Talon stared at his friend in stunned silence and rode on.

       • PART TWO •

       Mercenary

       ‘Revenge is sweet but not nourishing’

      Mason Cooley

       • CHAPTER FOURTEEN •

       Masters’ Court

      TAL BLINKED.

      The blade that hovered for the briefest instant in front of his face flicked to the right, and he hesitated, then moved in the same direction. As he had anticipated, his opponent was feigning to the right and went left. He slipped past his guard so fast that the other swordsman couldn’t react in time and Tal’s blade struck home.

      ‘Touch!’ cried the Master of the Court.

      Tal retreated a step, then came to attention and saluted his opponent, a young noble from the coastal city of Shalan. Duzan or Dusan, Tal couldn’t quite recall his name. The spectators applauded politely as if the match had run to form, which it had.

      The Master of the Court stepped forward and declared, ‘Point and match to M’lord Hawkins.’

      Talwin Hawkins, a minor noble from Ylith, distant cousin to Lord Seljan Hawkins, Baron of the Prince’s Court in Krondor, bowed first to the Master of the Court, then to his opponent. The two men removed the protective mesh masks they wore, and crossed to shake hands. The young Roldemish nobleman smiled and said, ‘Someday you’re going to guess wrong, Tal, and then I’ll have you.’

      Tal smiled in return. ‘You’re probably right. But as my man, Pasko, says, “I’d rather be lucky than good.” Right, Pasko?’

      The burly servant, who had appeared at his elbow and was now taking his master’s sword and mask, smiled and said, ‘As my master says, given the choice, I’ll take luck any time.’

      The two combatants exchanged bows and retired to opposite corners of the huge duelling hall that was the heart of the Masters’ Court in Roldem City. Large carved wooden columns surrounded a massive wooden floor which had been polished to a gleam like brushed copper. Intricate patterns had been laid into the floor and, once he had been introduced to the instructors, Tal had quickly seen they served a function beyond the aesthetic aspect. Each pattern СКАЧАТЬ