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

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 not very forthcoming. Whatever he discovered would be through his own powers of observation.

The pain caused by his people’s destruction was never far from his thoughts. He had shed tears nightly for a week, but as the days passed, he turned away from his grief and began to court anger. He knew that somewhere out there were the men responsible for his people’s obliteration. Eventually he would hunt them down and take retribution; such was the Orosini way. But he was also enough of a realist to understand that one young man on his own had little chance of extracting full vengeance. He would need to gain strength, power, knowledge of weapons, many things. He knew that his ancestors would guide him. Silver Hawk was his totem: the boy once known as Kielianapuna would be a talon for his people.

The days became routine. Each morning he would awake and eat. Pasko and he would walk, at first just around the compound surrounding the huge inn, then later into the nearby woods. His strength returned and he started helping Pasko with chores, hauling water, chopping wood, and mending reins, halters and traces for the horses. He was a clever lad and had to be shown a thing only once or twice to grasp it. He had a fierce passion for excellence.

Occasionally, Talon would catch a glimpse of Robert as he hurried about the inn, often in the company of any of three men. Talon didn’t ask Pasko to name them, but he marked them. The first Talon guessed to be Kendrick. A tall man with grey hair and a full beard, he moved around the property as if he owned it. He wore a fine tunic and a single ring of some dark stone set in gold, but otherwise serviceable trousers and boots. He often paused to give instructions to the servants – the girl Lela, and the two younger men, Lars and Gibbs. Lars and Gibbs had also been regular visitors to the barn when travellers called at the inn, for they cared for the horses.

The second man Talon saw he thought of as Snowcap, for his hair was as white as snow, yet he looked to be no more than thirty or so years of age. He was not quite as tall as Kendrick or Robert, but somehow seemed to look down at them. He carried himself like a chieftain or shaman, thought Talon, and there was an aura of power about him. His eyes were pale blue, and his face was coloured by the sun. He wore a robe of dark grey, with an intricate pattern woven at the sleeves and hem, which was just high enough for Talon to glimpse beneath it very finely crafted boots. He carried a wooden staff upon occasion, while at other times he affected a slouch hat that matched his robes in colour.

The last man bore a faint resemblance to the second, as if they were kin, but his hair was dark brown, almost the same colour as Talon’s. His eyes were a deep brown as well, and his manner and movement suggested a warrior or hunter. Talon called him the Blade in his mind, for his left hand never seemed to venture far from the hilt of a sword, a slender blade unlike any Talon had seen. He wore blue breeches tucked into kneehigh boots and a dark grey shirt over which he wore a tied vest. He also wore a hat all the time, a twin to Snowcap’s slouch hat, though this one was black. Once Talon had seen him leave the inn at sunrise carrying a longbow and that night he had returned carrying a gutted deer across his shoulders. Instantly the young man had felt a stab of admiration; hunting was considered a great skill among the Orosini.

Robert, Pasko and Talon were treated much as if they were part of the surroundings. Only Lela took a moment now and again to call out a greeting to Pasko and Talon, or to nod or wave. Lars, a stocky red-headed lad, and Gibbs, a slender older man, would occasionally speak to them, asking for a piece of tack, or assistance in holding a horse that was being tended. But both avoided any casual conversation. Most of the time, Talon felt as if he and Pasko didn’t exist in the minds of those inside the inn.

After a full month had passed, Talon awoke one morning to find Robert deep in conversation with Pasko. The young man arose quietly, and dressed, then made his presence known.

‘Ah, young Talon,’ said Robert, smiling at him. ‘Pasko tells me you’re recovering nicely.’

Talon nodded, ‘My wounds are healed, and most of the stiffness is gone.’

‘Are you fit enough to hunt?’

‘Yes,’ he answered without hesitation.

‘Good; come with me.’

He left the barn and Talon fell into step beside him. As they walked to the inn, Talon said, ‘Sir, I am in your debt, am I not?’