Raymond Feist - King of Foxes

THE HORSE PAWED THE ground.

Tal brought his gelding’s head around slightly, forcing him to pay attention to something besides his own boredom. The morning was crisp at first light, with a breeze coming off the ocean, but Tal knew it would be very hot by midday in the hills to the northeast of the city. Even before Duke Kaspar appeared Tal knew they were after big game, lion or bear, perhaps even one of the more exotic creatures reputed to inhabit the higher mountains, the giant boars – whose tusks reputedly grew to three feet in length – or the valley sloth, twice the size of a horse and despite the name fast when it needed to be, and armed with claws the size of short swords. The array of weapons in the luggage told Tal what he needed to know about the coming hunt: there were boar-spears with cross-pieces fastened above the broad blade to prevent the animal from running up the haft and goring the spearman; there were giant nets with weights at the edges, and heavy crossbows that could punch a hole the size of a man’s fist through plate armour.

A dozen servants, another dozen guards, and livery boys to care for the horses also waited patiently upon the appearance of the Duke. Another six men had been leaving as Tal had arrived, trail-breakers and trackers wearing the King’s livery, who would mark the most likely game trails. Tal found it intriguing that the hunting grounds lay less than a day’s march away, for Roldem was an ancient land, and he would have expected wildlife to have been pushed far into the mountains by the encroachment of civilization. Having hunted for his entire boyhood, and on many occasions since, he knew that rarely was big game within a day’s ride of a city.

Tal let one of the servants oversee the disposition of his travel gear, which was modest compared to the rest of the baggage being stowed on the horses. Tal knew they’d be following trails that wagons couldn’t negotiate, but it looked as if they could use a pair. Two animals alone were being used to carry what could only be a pavilion. Tal had no problem with sleeping on the ground, but realized the gentry of Roldem might find that objectionable.

Besides Tal, two nobles of Roldem – Baron Eugivney Balakov, and Baron Mikhael Grav – waited patiently. Tal knew them by reputation. They were young, ambitious, and held modest but important positions in the King’s court. Balakov was assistant to the Royal Bursar and he could expedite or slow a request for funds. He was broad-shouldered, with a brooding look, his dark hair cut close as was his beard. Grav was also associated with the Bursar’s office, but was seconded to the office of the Royal Household Guard, being primarily responsible for seeing that the palace troops were armed, clothed, fed and paid. He was a thin man with blond hair and a slender moustache he obviously worked hard at keeping perfectly trimmed. Both wore extravagant clothing, a long way from the modest leather tunic and trousers Tal had selected to wear.

As the sun lit the sky behind those distant peaks, Duke Kaspar and a young woman emerged from the palace, quickly making their way to a pair of waiting horses. Tal glanced at the young woman, wondering absently if it might be the Lady Rowena of Talsin, who in reality was another of the Conclave’s agents, Alysandra.

Tal had been frustrated during the time he had spent on Sorcerer’s Isle in determining just what she had been doing in the Duke’s company, for either people didn’t know or they weren’t telling. All he could discover was that it had been Miranda, Pug’s wife, who had dispatched the girl to Olasko at about the same time Tal had been training in Salador.

This woman was unlike Rowena, but she had one trait in common: she was equally beautiful. But while Rowena had been fair with eyes the colour of cornflowers, this lady was dark, her skin touched by the sun to a warm tan, her eyes almost as dark as her black hair. The Duke said something and she smiled, and instantly Tal knew who she was, for there was a hint of resemblance to the Duke.

As if sensing Tal’s thoughts, Duke Kaspar said, ‘Ah, young Hawkins, may I have the pleasure of presenting you to my sister, the Lady Natalia.’

Tal bowed in his saddle. ‘My honour, m’lady.’

It was obvious that the other two nobles were already acquainted with the Duke’s younger sister, who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Both fell in behind the Duke and Natalia, leaving Tal either to follow or ride on the flank.

Duke Kaspar said, ‘We have a half-day’s ride before us to get near our quarry.’ He looked again at Tal. ‘That’s a serviceable-looking bow, Talwin. Do you know how to use it?’ His voice was light and playfully mocking.

Sensing the mood, Tal smiled. ‘I’m a better archer than I am a swordsman, Your Grace.’

That brought a laugh from everyone, for Tal, as Champion of the Masters’ Court, was accounted the greatest swordsman in the world. Lady Natalia looked over her shoulder at him, giving him an excuse to ride forward a little. ‘Are you making a jest, sir?’ she asked.

Tal smiled. ‘In truth, no, m’lady. I have hunted since I was a child, while I only took up the sword after my fourteenth birthday.’

‘Then you must be the world’s greatest archer, sir,’ said Baron Eugivney wryly.

Keeping his smile in place, Tal replied, ‘Hardly, sir. Elven archers cannot be matched by any man.’

‘Elves!’ said Baron Mikhael. ‘Legends. My father used to tell me stories about a great war in my grandfather’s time, against invaders from another world. Elves and dwarves figured in it quite prominently.’

‘We’ll talk as we ride,’ said the Duke, urging his horse forward.

Tal found himself beside Baron Mikhael, as Baron Eugivney rode forward to flank Lady Natalia. ‘Not legends, my good sir,’ said Tal. ‘My home is near Ylith, and not too far to the west live those elves of legend. And to the north, in the city of LaMut, many descendants from that other world now live.’

Mikhael looked at Tal as if deciding whether or not the young man was jesting with him. ‘You’re serious?’

‘Yes, Baron,’ said Tal. ‘And those elves boast archers unmatched by any man living.’ Tal didn’t know this from his childhood, but rather from long conversations with Caleb, one of his teachers on Sorcerer’s Isle; Caleb had lived with the elves in Elvandar, their home, for a time. He spoke their language and claimed only one or two men had come close to matching their skill with a bow.

‘Well, then, if you say so,’ conceded Mikhael as if that put a close to the matter. To the Duke he said, ‘Your Grace, what are we hunting today?’

Over his shoulder the Duke said, ‘Something special if luck holds. A report has reached the King that a wyvern has flown up from Kesh and is nesting in the mountains. If that’s true, we have a rare opportunity before us.’

Baron Eugivney blinked in confusion. ‘A wyvern?’

Mikhael’s expression also revealed uncertainty. ‘I’m not sure …’

Tal said, ‘Small dragon. Very fast, very mean, and very dangerous … but small … for a dragon.’

Lady Natalia glanced from face to face, then smiled with Tal at the obvious discomfort exhibited by the other two men. ‘You’ve seen one, Squire?’

‘Once,’ said Tal. ‘In the mountains when I was a boy.’ He neglected to mention those mountains were close to Olasko.

The Duke looked over his shoulder as they rode out of the palace gate and turned up the high street that would lead them northward out of the city. ‘How would you go about hunting one, Squire?’

Tal smiled. ‘I wouldn’t, Your Grace, any more than I would go looking for a forest fire or tidal wave. But if I must, there are two ways.’