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

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 an hour, but still sleep wouldn’t come. At last he decided that his mood would be better served by a longer bath than he had anticipated. He stood and called out for Pasko, whom he had heard returning from his errands.

The servant appeared and Tal said, ‘Bring clothes. I’m for 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.