Talon Of The Silver Hawk Part 5

"No, our young friend Talon is an opportunity. He is, perhaps, unique. And he is young enough that we may be able to educate him to be something few of us can be."

"Which is what?" asked Magnus, clearly interested.

"Unlimited by our heritage. He's still able to learn, while most of us at his age are already convinced we know everything."

"He does seem a ready student," Magnus conceded.

"And, he has a sense of honour that would serve a LaMutian Captain of Tsurani descent."

Magnus raised an eyebrow. Those of Tsurani descent were as hidebound where honour was concerned as any men living. They would die to discharge a debt of honour. He looked for a moment to see if Robert was exaggerating and realized that he wasn't. "Honour is useful, at times."

"He has a mission already, even if it has yet to come to the surface of his mind."

"Mission?"

"He is Orosini. He must hunt down and kill the men responsible for the obliteration of his people."

Magnus let out a long sigh. "Raven and his band of cutthroats. No mean feat, that."

"The boy's already a hunter. When he is ready, he'll seek them out. I would rather have him do so with better weapons than his bare hands and native wit. So, there is much we must teach him, both of us."

"He has no skill for magic, I imagine, or else you would have sent him back to Father instead of bringing him up here."

"True, but you have other skills besides magic, Magnus. I am not jesting; he has a nimble mind and there are far more complex tasks to discipline thought than playing games with cards. If he is to serve us, he must be as tough in spirit and intellect as he already is in body. He may not have any skill in magic, but he will face it, and he will face minds far more adept in back-stabbing, double-dealing and deception than he could possibly imagine."

"If it's double-dealing you're worried about, you should have brought in Nakor to tutor him."

"I might still, but not yet. Besides, your father has Nakor down in Kesh on some errand or another."

Magnus stood up. "Ah, then the prospect for war between the Kingdom of the Isles and the Empire of Great Kesh is now excellent."

Robert laughed. "Nakor doesn't wreak havoc everywhere he visits."

"No, just most places. Well, if you think you can ready the boy to chase down Raven and kill him, good luck."

"Oh, it's not Raven and his murderers I'm concerned with. Hunting them is only part of Talon's training, albeit his journeyman's piece. If he should fail, then he would lack the true test of his skills."

"I'm intrigued. What lies beyond?"

"Talon will avenge his people when he kills everyone responsible for the obliteration of the Orosini. Which means he may not rest until he faces down and destroys the man behind behind that genocide." that genocide."

Magnus's eyes narrowed, the pale blue becoming icy. "You're going to turn him into a weapon?"

Robert nodded. "He will need to kill the most dangerous man living today."

Magnus sat back on the seat again and folded his arms across his chest. He looked towards the kitchen as if trying to see through walls. "You're sending a mouse to beard a dragon."

"Perhaps. If so, let's ensure the mouse has teeth."

Magnus shook his head slowly and said nothing.

Talon hauled water up the hill and saw that Meggie waited for him and that she was frowning. She was the ant.i.thesis of Lela, tiny where Lela was voluptuous, fair to the point of pallor where Lela was dark, plain where Lela was exotic, dour where Lela was exuberant. In short, at not even twenty years old, she was more than halfway to being a middle-aged scold.

"Took you long enough," she said.

"I didn't realize there was a rush on," said Talon, now comfortable with the idiomatic Roldemish he was being told to use almost exclusively.

"There's always a rush on," she snapped.

Following her up the hill, Talon asked, "Why did you come down to meet me?"

"Kendrick said I was to find you and tell you you'd be serving again tonight in the dining room." She wore a shawl of drab green which she gathered tightly around her shoulders as she walked before him. The days were growing cold and the nights colder; autumn was turning to winter and soon snow would come. "There's a caravan from Orodon to Farinda staying over tonight, and it seems there's someone important travelling with it. So, Lela and I are a.s.signed to the common room with Lars, and you and Gibbs to the dining room."

"You could have waited until I got back to the kitchen to tell me that," Talon observed.

"When I'm told to do something, I do it at once," she snapped. She picked up her pace, hurrying on ahead. Talon watched her stiff back as she walked in front of him. Something struck him oddly for a moment, then he realized what it was; he liked the way her hips moved as she climbed the hill. He felt that same strange stirring in his stomach he often felt when he was alone with Lela and wondered about that. He didn't particularly like Meggie, but suddenly he found himself thinking of the way her nose turned up at the tip, and how on those very rare occasions she smiled at something, she got tiny lines-crinkles Lela called them-at the corners of her eyes.

He knew that something had pa.s.sed between Meggie and Lars for a while, but that for some reason they were barely speaking to one another now, while everyone spoke with Lela. He pushed away his discomfort. He knew what pa.s.sed between men and women-his people were open enough about s.e.x and he had seen many women naked at the bathing pool when he was still a child-yet the actual fact of being close to a young women caused him much distress. And these people were not Orosini-they were outlandish-though after an instant's further thought he has to concede that now he was the outlander. He did not know their rituals, but they seemed to make free with their bodies before they were pledged. Then he realized that he didn't even know if they did pledge. Perhaps they didn't have marriage like the Orosini at all.

Kendrick had no wife as far as Talon was aware. Leo was married to the heavy woman, Martha, who oversaw the baking, but they were from some distant place called Ylith. Perhaps here in Langadore men and women lived apart, only . . . he shook his head as they reached the outer gate to the stabling yard. He didn't know what to think. He resolved to speak of this with Robert should the opportunity arise.

He noticed that Meggie was standing in the porch, waiting for him. "Fill the barrels," she instructed.

Softly he said, "I know what to do."

"Oh, do you?" she returned, her meaning obscure.

As she turned to hold the door open, he waited, then moved past her. As she closed the door behind him, he put down the large buckets of water and said, "Meggie?"

"What?" she said, turning to face him, her face set in a half-frown.

"Why do you dislike me?"

The openness of the question took her aback. She stood speechless for a moment, then she brushed past him, her voice soft as she said, "Who said I didn't like you?"

Before he could answer, she was gone from the kitchen. He picked up the buckets and carried them to the water barrels. He really didn't understand these people.

After dinner that night, Talon sought out Robert, who stayed in a room at the back of the inn, on the first floor. He knew he had a life-debt to this man. He knew that until he was released from that debt, he would serve Robert de Lyis for the rest of his life, or until such time as he saved Robert's life. But he was uncertain as to the plans Robert had for him. He had been numb with grief and overwhelmed by the changes in his life since Midsummer, but now with winter fast approaching, he had come to think about the future more and wonder what his fate would be after the spring came, and the next summer was upon him.

He hesitated before the door; he had never intruded upon Robert's privacy before, and did not even know if such an approach was permitted. He took a breath, then knocked lightly.

"Come in."

He slowly opened the door and leaned in. "Sir, may I speak with you?"

Robert's room contained only four items of furnishings, a bed, a chest for his clothing, a small table and a stool. He sat upon the stool in front of the table, consulting a large object, which appeared to Talon to be many parchments bound together. Next to it rested a candle, the room's only illumination. A water basin and a pitcher indicated the table's other function when Robert was not using it for his work.

"Come in and close the door."

Talon did so and stood awkwardly before Robert. "Is it permitted?" he asked at last.

"Is what permitted?"

"For me to ask you a question."

Robert smiled. "Finally. It is not only permitted, it is encouraged. What is on your mind?"

"Many things, master."

Robert's eyebrows went up. "Master?"

"I do not know what else to call you, and everyone says you're my master."

Robert waved to the bed. "Sit down."

Talon sat, awkwardly.

"To begin with, it's appropriate for you to call me 'master' in front of anyone well known to us, but when we are alone, or with Pasko, you may address me as 'Robert'. Understood?"

"I understand that is what I am to do. I do not understand why."

Robert smiled. "You have as keen a wit as you do an eye, Talon of the Silver Hawk. Now, what is it you wished to see me about?"

Talon composed his thoughts, taking a few moments to weigh his words. Then he asked, "What are your plans for me?"

"This concerns you?"

Talon lowered his eyes for a moment, then remembered his father's words, that he should always meet another man's gaze and always face a problem directly. "It concerns me."

"Yet you have waited for months to ask."

Talon again fell silent. Then he said, "I have had to consider much. I am without a people. Everything I know is gone. I do not know who I am any more."

Robert sat back. He drummed his fingers lightly upon the table and said after a while, "Do you know what this is?" He touched the large bound sheaf of parchment.

"It is writing, I think."

"This is called a book. In it is knowledge. There are many books with many different kinds of knowledge in them, just as each man is a different kind of man.

"Some men live their lives, Talon, without having to make many decisions. They are born to a place, grow up in that place, marry and father children in that place, grow old and die in that place. This is how it was to have been for you, is it not?"

Talon nodded.

"Other men are cast adrift by fate and must choose their own lives. That is how it is with you now."

"But I am in your debt."

"And you shall replay that debt. Then what?"

"I don't know."

"Then we have a common purpose, for in discovering how you may best serve me, we shall also discover what your destiny is."

"I don't understand."

Robert smiled. "That's not necessary, yet. You will in time. Now, let me tell you some things you should know.

"You will spend the next year here, at Kendrick's. You will do many things, serving in the kitchen as you have, and in the stable, and in other capacities as Kendrick sees best. You will also, from time to time, serve Caleb or Magnus, should they need you while they are staying here. And from time to time you will travel with me." He turned, putting his hand upon the book once more. "And we shall start tomorrow by teaching you to read."

"To read, Robert?"

"You have a bright mind, Talon of the Silver Hawk, but it is untutored. You were educated in the ways of your people to be a good and true man of the Orosini. Now you must be educated in the ways of the world."

"I still don't understand, Robert."

Robert motioned for Talon to stand. When he had, Robert said, "Go away and go to sleep. You will understand over time. I sense a potential for greatness in you, Talon. I may be wrong, but if you fail to develop that potential, it will not be for a lack of effort."

Not knowing what to say, Talon merely nodded, turned and left. He paused outside Robert's door and thought to himself, Potential for what? Potential for what?

Talon waited, sword ready. Magnus stood a short distance away, observing. The boy was already drenched with perspiration and was sporting several red welts on his shoulders and back from the blows he had taken.

Kendrick stood before him, a wooden training sword in his hand, motioning for the boy to attack one more time. He had allowed Talon to use a real blade, claiming that if the boy could cut him he deserved to bleed, and so far he had proven his ability to avoid being touched. But Talon was fast and learned quickly, and he was getting closer and closer to reaching Kendrick.

Magnus had said nothing during the training exercise, but he watched every move closely.

Talon attacked, this time holding his blade back as if readying for a downward strike. He suddenly spun away from Kendrick's right side-his sword side-and slashed down and sideways with the blade, a vicious swing at Kendrick's unprotected left side. Kendrick sensed the move only at the last instant, and barely got his own blade in place for a block, but suddenly Talon reversed himself and slashed in a backhand at Kendrick's right side, which was now unprotected since he had over-extended himself for the block.

With a satisfying "thunk" the flat of Talon's blade slapped into the innkeeper's back, eliciting a grunt of pain and Kendrick shouted, "Hold!"

Talon turned, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and watched as the innkeeper studied him. "Who taught you that move, boy?"

"No one, sir. I just . . . thought of it a moment ago."

The innkeeper reached back and rubbed where Talon had struck him. "Fancy move, and beyond most swordsmen's imagination, let alone their capacity, yet you pulled it off the first time."

Talon didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if he was being praised or not. He was getting to be almost fluent in Roldemish, but some of the nuances and idioms were still lost on him.