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

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      ‘The second, first,’ answered Pasko, as he sat down on the little stool and hefted his own mug of broth. ‘We found you amidst carnage unlike any I’ve seen since my youth – when I was a soldier in the service of the Duke of Dungarren, down in Far Loren. We’d have left you for crow bait with the others, save I heard you moan … well, wasn’t even a proper moan, more like a loud sigh. It was only by the hand of fate you survived. You had so much blood on you and such a jagged wound across your chest, we both took you for dead to start with. Anyway, you were breathing, so my master said to fetch you along. He’s a soft-hearted sort, I can tell you.’

      ‘I should thank him,’ said Talon, though he felt so miserable for being alive while the rest of his family had perished that he didn’t feel remotely thankful.

      ‘I suspect he’ll find a way for you to repay him,’ said Pasko. He stood up. ‘Feel like stretching your legs?’

      Talon nodded. He started to rise and found that his head swam and his body ached. He had no strength.

      ‘Gently, my lad,’ said Pasko, hurrying to give Talon a helping hand. ‘You’re weaker than a day-old kitten. You’ll need more rest, and food, before you’re close to being fit, but right now you need to move around a bit.’

      Pasko helped Talon to the door of the barn and they went outside. It was a crisp morning, and Talon could tell they were in a lowland valley. The air smelled and felt different from the air in his highland meadows. Talon’s legs were shaky and he was forced to take small steps. Pasko stopped and let the boy take in his surroundings.

      They were in a large stabling yard, surrounded by a high wall of fitted stones. The boy instantly recognized the construction as a fortification by its design, for stone steps flush with the walls rose up at several locations a short distance from the large building which he took to be the inn. The top of the wall had crenels and merlons, and a walkway broad enough for two men to pass one another as they defended the grounds.

      The inn was as large a building as Talon had ever seen, dwarfing the round house and long house of his village. It rose three storeys into the air, and the roof was covered with stone tiles rather than thatch or wood. It was painted white, with wooden trim around the doors and windows, the shutters and doors having been painted a cheery green. Several chimneys belched grey smoke into the sky.

      A wagon had been pushed to the side of the barn, and Talon assumed it was the one that had carried him here. He could see the tops of trees some distance off, so he assumed the forest around the inn had been cleared.

      ‘What do you see?’ asked Pasko, unexpectedly.

      Talon glanced at the man, who was studying him closely. He started to speak, then remembered his grandfather telling him to look beyond the obvious, so he didn’t answer, but instead motioned to Pasko to help him to the nearest steps. He climbed up them slowly until he was on top of the wall and able to look over.

      The inn sat in the centre of a natural clearing, but the stumps of a fair number of trees revealed that it had been enlarged years before. The stumps were covered with grasses and brambles, but the road into the woods had been kept clear.

      ‘What do you see?’ Pasko repeated.

      Talon still didn’t answer, but began walking toward the inn. As he did so, the layout of the inn called Kendrick’s unfolded in his mind’s eye. He hesitated. He had as much fluency with the Common Tongue as any boy in the village, but he rarely spoke it, save when traders came to … He thought of his village and the cold hopelessness returned. He pushed down the ache and considered the words he wanted. Finally, he said, ‘This is a fortress, not an inn.’

      Pasko grinned. ‘Both, actually. Kendrick has no fondness for some of his neighbours.’

      Talon nodded. The walls were stout, and the forest on all sides had been cleared sufficiently to give archers on the wall a clear field of fire. The road from the woods turned abruptly halfway to the inn and circled around to gates he assumed were on the other side of the inn. No ram or burning wagon could easily be run along to destroy the gates and gain entrance.

      He glanced at the placement of the building. Archers in the upper windows would provide a second rank of defenders to support anyone on the wall. He returned his gaze to the doors and saw they were also heavy with iron bands. He imagined they could be barred from the inside. It would take stout men with heavy axes to break those down. He glanced up, and saw the murder-holes above each door. Hot oil or water, or arrows could be directed down at anyone in front of the door.

      At last he said, ‘They must be difficult neighbours.’

      Pasko chuckled. ‘Indeed.’

      While they stood upon the parapet looking at the inn, a door opened and a young girl appeared carrying a large bucket. She glanced up and saw them and waved. ‘Hello, Pasko!’

      ‘Hello, Lela!’

      ‘Who’s your friend?’ she asked playfully. She appeared to be a few years older than Talon, but unlike the girls he had known among his people, she was dark. Her skin was dark with a touch of olive colour, and her hair was as black as night. Her large brown eyes sparkled as she laughed.

      ‘A lad we picked up along the way. Leave him alone. You’ve enough admirers already.’

      ‘Never enough!’ she shouted playfully, swinging the bucket around as she twirled a step, then continued on her path. ‘I could do with some help fetching water,’ she said with a flirtatious grin.

      ‘You’re a healthy enough lass, and the boy’s injured.’ Pasko paused, then asked, ‘Where are Lars and Gibbs?’

      ‘Kendrick’s got them out,’ Lela said, disappearing behind the other side of the barn.

      Talon stood silent for a moment after she vanished from view, then asked, ‘What am I to do?’ Inside he felt a profound hopelessness, a lack of volition and will he had never known in his young life. Without his family … Memories of his village made tears gather in his eyes. The Orosini could be an emotional people, given to loud celebration in times of joy and tears in times of sorrow. But they tended to be reserved in the presence of strangers. All that seemed without purpose now and Talon let the tears run down his face.

      Ignoring them, Pasko said, ‘You’ll have to ask Robert about that when he returns. I just do as I’m bid. You do owe him your life, so that debt must be settled. Now, let’s walk you around a little more, then get you back inside to rest.’

      Talon felt a desire to explore, to go inside the inn and investigate its wonders, for a building this large must contain many, he judged. But Pasko took him back to the barn, and by the time they reached his pallet Talon was glad to be there, for he felt exhausted deep into his bones. The wounds on his body ached and stung and he knew that even that little bit of exercise had torn some new scar tissue and that he would need time to heal. He remembered when Bear Who Stands had been gored by a boar. He had limped for almost a half year before regaining full mobility in his leg.

      Talon lay back on his pallet and closed his eyes while Pasko puttered around in the barn with some items he had brought in from the wagon. Despite having felt alert when he had awoken just a scant half-hour before, the boy drifted back off to sleep.

      

      Patient by nature, Talon let the days go by without pestering Pasko with questions. It was obvious to him that the servant was by nature taciturn, and by instruction СКАЧАТЬ