Talon of the Silver Hawk (12 page)

Talon looked puzzled. Jacob noticed and said, “Ella wants Caleb here, but can't have him, and Forney wants Ella and can't have her. It's the same, see?''

Talon didn't, entirely, but he nodded as if he did. After a moment, he said, “Who is he?''

“Forney?” asked Jacob with a shrug. “He's a good enough sort, but nothing special.''

Caleb raised an eyebrow and gave Jacob a sardonic half smile.

“All right, so his father is the wealthiest shipper in the region.''

Talon didn't know much about people of wealth, save those who visited Kendrick's, so he said, “He dresses much like the others.''

“That's his father's doing. The old man wants the son to learn the business from the wagon hubs up. As I said, he's not a bad sort.” Then he added, “Nothing like our mysterious traveling man, here.” He patted Caleb on the shoulder. “Ella's had her cap set on him since she was . . . what? Fifteen?''

“That was four years ago, Jacob.''

Jacob nodded. “I keep telling her that if she got to know you, she'd change her mind, but you know how sisters are.''

“Not really,” said Caleb. “I have a brother, remember?”

A strange expression passed over Jacob's face. It was only for a bare instant, but Talon noticed it. Then, forcing
lightness into his voice, Jacob said, “Magnus is hard to forget.” He pushed his chair back noisily and stood up. “Well, I have other duties to attend to. If you need anything, just ask.''

“We'll be fine,” said Caleb.

Talon waited for a moment for Jacob to leave, then said to Caleb, “There are so many things I don't understand about you people.''

“ ‘You people'?” repeated Caleb.

“You and Jacob, and those back at Kendrick's.” He struggled with the concept. “People who are not Orosini.''

Caleb glanced around the room. “It's better that you forget you're Orosini, at least when you're within hearing range of strangers.”

“Why?”

“Someone went to a lot of trouble to see the Orosini dead, Talon. While you, alone, pose no threat to those people, the fact that you witnessed the calculated genocide of an entire nation makes you a potential . . . embarrassment.” He raised his voice. “Now, back to what you said; you don't understand what?''

Talon looked away as if unwilling to meet Caleb's gaze. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and flat. “The . . . banter, I think is the word. The . . . joking, but not joking speech.''

“The teasing.''

“Yes, that's the word. Lela does it with me sometimes, and there are moments when I don't know if she's serious about what she's saying or not.''

Caleb shrugged. “That hardly makes you unique among young men, Talon.''

“Perhaps, but you're older than I am, and I thought—‘'

Caleb cut him off with a rare laugh. “I can be of no help to you, my young friend.” He leaned forward and looked
into his mug of ale. “Someday, perhaps, you'll meet the rest of my family and see where I was raised. But even if you never do, you should know that my upbringing was anything but ordinary.” He glanced up and smiled. “I grew up as a blind man would among the sighted.''

“What do you mean?''

“One day I'll explain that, but suffice it to say I was not a happy child. My parents are exceptional people, talented beyond imagining, but they had no means to heal what I saw as a flaw in my nature.''

Talon sat back, his expression one of open astonishment. “I perceive no flaw in you, Caleb. I judge you to be the best hunter I have known, and my people are renowned for hunting. I have studied enough with Kendrick with the sword to see you're as gifted with the blade as with the bow. You're plain speaking, yet thoughtful. You have patience and look deeply into things. What is lacking?''

Caleb smiled and sat back. “Becoming a student of human nature, aren't you? Robert will do that to a man, given enough time. It's one of his gifts. What is lacking,” he said softly, “is magic. My brother is not the only practitioner of magic in my family; rather I am the only one who does not have the gift. I grew up on an island where I was virtually alone in this.''

Talon said, “So Robert and your brother are both magicians?” He kept his voice low.

“You didn't know?''

“I never saw either of them practice, although . . .” He paused. “The lessons your brother teaches are all about using the mind, more . . .” He groped for a concept. “Stranger than the lessons in logic which Robert gives me. Magnus shows me how to do things”—he tapped his head—“in here, that I didn't imagine were possible. Yet I have no talent for magic.''

“You know that for certain?” asked Caleb, as if making light of the subject.

“Among my people we have very few who are called to be . . .
shaman,
a magic priest. Each baby is tested, and those who have the talent leave their villages as children to study with the shamans. Among my people, there are a handful, and they . . .” Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Talon said, “It doesn't matter. They are all dead.” He felt moisture gathering in his eyes and blinked. “It's been a while since I've felt that.''

Caleb nodded. “It never goes away, completely. But you'll discover other things in life.” His manner brightened. “My point was that while I've long since recovered from the imagined slights of my birth and upbringing, one thing I was
never
good at was understanding women. And like you, I was an ‘outsider' when I first came to this part of the world, with no bearings to go on.” He took a drink of ale, then said, “On the other hand, learning can be very pleasant at times.''

Talon grinned. “It can be. Lela is . . .''

Caleb finished for him. “Lela. She's a lively lass, I'll grant you that.''

“How do I . . .''

“What?”

Talon attempted to frame his thoughts. After a long silence, in which the two young men sat looking at one another while the porters engaged in a loud discussion in the background, Talon leaned forward, and said, “Among the Orosini our mates are selected for us by our parents. I have no parents, and I do not know about Lela's parents—‘'

Caleb interrupted. “You're thinking about marriage?”

Talon blinked as if surprised to hear it put that way, but at last he nodded. “I don't know what to do.''

Caleb said softly, “Talk to Robert.''

Talon nodded.

Caleb then said, “But I must warn you, I don't think it's going to happen, even should Lela be willing, which I don't think she is.''

“But she loves me!” Talon said, just loudly enough to cause two of the porters to turn and regard him. With a laugh and a rude remark, they returned to their own conversation.

“As I said, I am no expert on women, Talon. But this you must know. You are not the first lad to warm Lela's bed.''

“I knew that,” said Talon.

Caleb sat back as if considering his words. After a moment, he said, “What passes between a man and a woman is their own business. But I will tell you this. You know men who have been in Lela's arms.''

Talon blinked, as if he hadn't considered that. “Gibbs?” Caleb nodded. “Lars?” Again Caleb nodded.

Talon said, “But Lars is with Meggie.''

“Now, but they fall out as often as not; Meggie is no one's idea of a summer festival. She has qualities, but she can be a difficult woman.''

“But that's not right,” said Talon.

“Talon, it's not a question of right or wrong. It's the way it is. Among your people, your mates are selected and you can go through life knowing only one women, but here . . .” He sighed. “It's different.”

Talon appeared distressed.

Caleb said, “You should know that I have been with Lela.''

Talon looked shocked. “You!''

“Last Midsummer, on the day Pasko and Robert found you, she and I drank too much ale and ended up spending the night together. And she has done the same with a few handsome travelers, as well.''

Talon looked as if his world was falling in on him. “Is she . . . what is that word?''

“What word?''

“A woman who lies with men for money.''

“A whore,” supplied Caleb. “No, my young friend, she is not. But she is a healthy girl who likes men, and she's from a land where people don't think twice about lying with one another for amusement.”

Talon felt an empty pit form in his stomach. “It's not right,” he muttered.

Caleb said, “Go and wash your hands.” He waved toward the door into the kitchen. “The food will be here in a moment. Just remember that in most things, right or wrong depends on where you're standing at the moment. My father's people would have thought having your life's mate picked out for you by your parents to be . . . well, barbaric.” As Talon's expression started to darken, Caleb added, “No offense intended, but I'm pointing out that things look the way they do because that is how you were taught as a child. And the rest of the world is vastly different from what a child can imagine. Now, go and wash.''

Talon stood up and made his way past the bar and into the kitchen. There he discovered familiar sights. Angelica and Ella were working alongside two others: a man who must be Jacob's father, given their resemblance, and another man, who was obviously the cook. Talon found a bucket and soap and had a wash. When he looked up, he found that Ella was giving him a sidelong glance of appraisal.

He ventured a tentative smile and wiped his hands upon a cloth hung next to the bucket. Although she had affection for Caleb, she seemed to be looking at him in a disquieting way. He left the kitchen and returned to
where Caleb was waiting. He sat down and looked at the man he had considered to be a friend; yet he had been with the woman Talon loved! How was he supposed to feel now?

Finally, Talon let out a long sigh and said, “I will never understand women.''

Caleb laughed and said, “Welcome to the brotherhood, my friend.''

Early the next day, Caleb started his rounds of the city. Five or six times a year, Kendrick had specific goods shipped out to the steading, including wheat flour, rice, sugar, and honey, and seasonal items. But twice a year a special list was prepared and someone had to go into the city to purchase those particular items. Often it was Kendrick himself, but this time Caleb had elected to go.

After the third shop had been visited, Talon was beginning to understand why. Caleb seemed to possess a knack for negotiations. He could sense when a merchant was ready to accept a lower price, or when he was at his limit. As they walked down the street to the next shop, Talon asked, “How do you know?''

“How do I know what?''

“When to stop arguing over the price?''

Caleb dodged aside as a small band of urchins came racing down the street toward them, followed a moment later by an angry merchant. “There are things to watch for. It's the same when you gamble or if you're trying to see if a man is lying.''

“What things?''

Caleb said, “Many things, but let's start with the more obvious ones. The expression. The spice trader, this
morning, for example, was pleased to see a customer. His face mirrored genuine delight at our arrival.''

“How could you tell?''

“The moment you enter a shop, watch the man's face. Most merchants will pause for a brief instant to see who calls upon them. In that moment, you'll see a truth. It takes a while to learn, but you'll soon discover for yourself the difference between a man who's genuinely pleased to see a customer and one who is feigning pleasure. The first needs to sell you something, while the second may or may not.

“There are many other truths buried behind a false smile, a proffered wish for good health or a claim that a price is too low or too high. For the time being, just watch the men with whom I deal, not me, and see what you see.''

Talon watched throughout the day, and after each bargaining session, he would ask questions. Slowly, he began to understand a little of what Caleb meant, that there were telltale signs to be seen if one had the patience to look for them.