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 style="font-size:15px;">      Salador possessed some charms, and the two years Talon of the Silver Hawk had spent there becoming Talwin Hawkins had been two of the best years of his life until he had come to Roldem. He had learned to play the lute, the brass horn and a variety of percussion instruments. He had lost all accent when speaking the King’s Tongue or Roldemish, and could pass as a gentleman from either nation. He had refined his painting, learned to tell a good wine from a poor one – discovering a passion for the former – and mastered the intricacies of court dances.

      He had read books and scrolls and studied everything he could about the history of the nations of this continent of Triagia. He learned of the other nations he had not visited, and became an avid student of history.

      He had met and known women. At first he had nursed his injury at Alysandra’s hands, but Caleb had forced him one night to accompany him through the city, drinking at inn after inn until at last they had arrived at a particularly well-regarded brothel. There Caleb had entrusted Tal’s care to a cadre of skilled and enthusiastic young courtesans who had found ways to revive his interest in women. After that, there had followed liaisons with serving girls, merchants’ daughters, and the occasional daughter of the minor nobility.

      By the time his twentieth birthday arrived – he had adopted the Kingdom custom of using Midsummer’s Day to mark his birth – he was ready to make his entrance at the Masters’ Court.

      Robert had appeared one night with forged documents, naming him Talwin Hawkins, a distant cousin to a minor noble in Yabon Province in the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles. So Talon of the Silver Hawk had become Talwin Hawkins, Squire of Morgan River and Bellcastle, Baronet of Silverlake, vassal to the Baron of Ylith, who had left his father’s home to serve with the northern garrison for a while as a Bannerette Knight Lieutenant under the command of the Duke of Yabon, and had honourably left that service to seek his fortune: a young man of rank but no wealth.

      Along the way, somehow, he had amassed enough resources to purchase a modest, but tasteful, apartment in the better quarter of the city, where he entertained small groups of young nobles; and had distinguished himself as the finest swordsman and the most eligible foreign bachelor to have arrived in the city in years.

      Tal had been impressed with the amount of work that had gone into preparing his way into Roldem society. Letters of credit, introductions, and references had all been prepared in advance. Several locals presented themselves as old acquaintances, even going so far as to remind Tal of details of their past encounters.

      To Pasko and Robert’s delight, Tal turned out to be a skilled gambler, the result of the logic games forced upon him while he studied with Robert and Magnus. He resisted the temptation to win large stakes, preferring to consistently win small amounts. To ensure that he was invited back to games of cards and dice, he conspired to lose upon occasion, with grace and good humour.

      He was judged by everyone who knew him an upstanding young man. Direct, polite, and amusing, he was counted as a prize dinner guest, and rarely did he eat alone at home. His fluency in many languages, his grace as a dancer, his ability to sing and play many instruments, all made him one of the most popular young men around town. Only an invitation to one of the King’s galas was lacking; and now rumour provided hope that might be imminent.

      The only criticism levelled at Tal Hawkins was from the young ladies of Roldem. He was charming, handsome, witty and, at the right time, ardent. But more than one young woman had accused him of having no heart, for he would never speak to them of love. Desire and the pleasures of the body, yes, and his directness and bold approach had won more than one young flower of Roldem who had been determined to resist the notorious young man from the west. His bed was empty only when he wanted it to be, but often he found little joy in those who shared it with him. Release, pleasure, and amusement; but never joy. His mind turned to Alysandra from time to time, and he wondered if he was becoming like her, and then decided he was not for he still felt affection for his mentors and remembered the love he held in his heart for his family and those of his village; but when it came to young women, he found them a means to an end, either to satisfy his lust, to gain him social access, or merely providing diversion.

      The carriage stopped in front of his apartment, a three-room, first-floor flat. The ground floor home was occupied by a moneylender and his family. The family had a daughter who was far from unattractive, but Pasko had commented and Tal had agreed to leave that one young lady alone; having an angry father with money as a neighbour could prove to be difficult. For although the father might not be any threat with a blade, money could buy many blades. So Tal was polite to the father and mother, brotherly to the young son, and slightly flirtatious, but always mannerly, with the girl.

      The driver opened the door and Tal and Pasko got out and Pasko went ahead to the door to the stairs leading to the apartment while the carriage rolled off to a public stable a street away where the driver lived in quarters and was available to Tal whenever he was needed.

      Tal made his way upstairs and entered the apartment. Pasko said, ‘Shall I draw a bath?’

      ‘No,’ said Tal. ‘A cold wash doesn’t appeal to me right now. I think I’ll take a nap and in an hour go to Remarga’s Bath House and dress there for supper with Melinda. While I sleep, please send a note to her that I will be more than pleased to dine with her this night, and send my regrets to the other ladies who invited me.’

      ‘Yes, m’lord,’ replied Pasko. Initially, to Tal’s initial surprise, Pasko had treated him as if he had been born to the nobility, and never once referred to Talon’s past history or forgot his place, even when they were alone. And in the entire time since they had arrived in Roldem, Talwin Hawkins had come to live the role of an adventuring nobleman of the Kingdom of the Isles so deeply and so well that his past before arriving in Salador was even starting to become to him a dim memory, as if it belonged to someone else.

      When Pasko set off with the messages, Tal undressed himself. He removed his cloak, jacket, and tunic and boots, then threw himself across his bed wearing only his trousers. He was tired from the practice, yet sleep was elusive, for he was restless, tensed up in anticipation of news of an invitation to the palace. And, in addition to that, the tournament began in less than a month’s time. He was beginning to feel the edge build. He must be careful; too much of an edge could make him overly anxious, make it difficult for him to keep his focus on the task at hand.

      And he also knew that once the tournament was over, something else lay ahead for him, and he didn’t know what. Adopting the role of a Kingdom gentleman appeared to be as Rondar had predicted, the ostensible reasons for his years of training, but as yet no one had explained to him why.

      His personal agenda had not changed. Eventually he would hunt down and destroy those who had murdered his family and friends, but until this current role was completed, until such time as Master Pug and his companions decided that his duty to the Conclave was discharged, then he must wait.

      Even so, over the last few months a growing concern had been gnawing at him; what if he was never considered discharged of his duty to the Conclave; what if he were to die before he could avenge his people? The second alternative could not be considered, for if fate decreed that the last of the Orosini died before vengeance was visited upon the guilty, then so be it. But the first possibility worried him, for which duty was paramount? A life-debt was not something that any Orosini would lightly discard, for to do so would not only shame the man, but also his family and his ancestors. But the blood-vengeance demanded by his culture was equally important. Perhaps the gods would turn a kind eye and show him a way to serve both debts honourably?

      He rolled over onto his stomach, and then thought maybe they would not. Such things were out of his hands, so it was best not to worry.

      He lay quietly for almost half СКАЧАТЬ