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 Remarga’s. Follow as soon as you have selected suitable attire for tonight’s supper. Have the carriage pick us up at Remarga’s an hour after sundown.’

      ‘Yes, m’lord,’ said Pasko.

      Tal dressed and left his apartment, walking briskly down the streets of Roldem. He never tired of the experience of travelling by foot through the city. The hive of shops clustered along each street, the press of people of all stripes – young, old, men and women, merchants, sailors, nobles and commoners. The scent of the sea was everywhere, and that combined with the noise and confusion was intoxicating to a boy who had been raised in the isolation of the mountains.

      Tal wondered if fate would provide him with an opportunity to return to his boyhood, and whether he would take that opportunity if it were offered. After barely a moment’s reflection, he knew he would. For no matter how wondrous the things he had gained, the knowledge, experience and material wealth, they paled in comparison to what he had lost: home, family and an authentic way of life.

      Had he a wish, he’d trade everything to have his mother, father, sister and the rest of his clan healthy and happy at home. It was a bitter thought that even the mightiest magician, or every one of them put together could never bring that wish into being.

      He reached an intersection, turned right and wended his way through the late afternoon crowd. After just a few seconds he knew he was being followed. His hunter’s instinct or his ‘bump of trouble’ as Nakor had called it, a casual glance to the rear, a reflection in the window of a shop, something had alerted him: somehow he knew there was a man about thirty feet behind him who had been tailing him since he had left his apartment.

      Talon paused to look into a shop-window as if inspecting some item on display. The figure he saw out of the corner of his eye resolved itself as the man halted and appeared to be searching for something he had forgotten. With a feigned look of disgust, the man quickly turned and walked away, but not before Tal had marked him. He was a short, wiry man, but he walked quickly and with an economy of movement that alerted Tal: this man was dangerous.

      Tal knew he would vanish into the crowd, so he did not pursue him. It would prove to be pointless and would also reveal to the man that Tal had discovered him. That man, or another, would soon be back. Someone was stalking Tal and he needed to find out who and why.

      If it were an assassin employed by some angry young woman or her father, that was one thing, but if this had anything to do with the Conclave of Shadows, that was another. He might have to send Pasko to alert Robert and the others.

      Talon took a leisurely stroll to the bathhouse, avoiding his usual route, and stopped several times to ensure he was no longer being followed.

      At Remarga’s he was greeted by one of the many attendants, this one well known to him. ‘Good afternoon, m’lord,’ the man said.

      ‘Good afternoon, Sven,’ Tal replied. ‘Is Salmina free?’

      ‘I shall see, sir. You wish to have her services?’

      ‘Yes,’ said Tal, and he went into the changing room.

      Sven stood by to care for Tal’s clothing and provide him with whatever he needed. To begin with, Tal was given a large cotton towel, in which he wrapped himself. As he left the changing room, Sven put his clothing and sword away. Tal found himself a small wooden stool next to a large bucket of warm water. Beside the bucket was a bar of scented soap and a brush. Placed next to the stool was a tray containing small, delicate, earthenware jars adorned with floral designs. Tal picked up the bucket and poured the contents over his head, and as soon as he set it down, a young boy appeared with a fresh bucket of warm water and took the empty one away.

      First of all Tal treated his hair with a scented oil, and wondered not for the first time what his grandfather would have thought of all this. The old man’s way of taking a bath had been plunging into the iciest streams and lakes and revelling in it. But given his grandfather’s appreciation of comfort, Tal decided that the old man would have approved of the entire process. Just then a young woman appeared, wearing a brief robe of white linen, which clung to her in the damp heat of the bathhouse. Tal knew his grandfather would very much have approved of this, for the old man had never lost his eye for women, a fact he regularly commented on, to the ire of Tal’s grandmother.

      Feeling a moment of nostalgia, he said nothing but allowed her to begin soaping his back. Remarga trained his staff well: she would not speak unless spoken to first. Some customers wanted banter and flirtation, and a few desired more personal services, which could be arranged for a price which included a small private suite at the back of the building. Others preferred calm and quiet and wanted nothing more than to keep their thoughts to themselves while they bathed.

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