Talon of the Silver Hawk (19 page)

There was something about the seemingly frail little man that intrigued Talon. He was certain there was a great deal of strength to him, and more. Yet Magnus's former teacher had said nothing as they walked back.

“Nakor?”

“Yes, Talon?''

“When will I know?''

Nakor studied the young man's face, and saw how he fought to keep his eyes open. When fatigue finally overwhelmed Talon, and his eyes closed, Nakor answered. “Soon, Talon, soon.''

A week went by, and Talon's strength returned. He watched with interest as his bandages finally came off and discovered a set of scars which would have done any senior member of his clan proud. Not yet twenty years of age, he looked like a veteran of many battles, a man twice his age. For a moment he felt a profound sadness, for he realized
there was no one among his people to whom he could reveal these marks of a warrior. And as his hand strayed absently to his face, he realized that even if any such survivor existed, he had no tattoos upon his face to reveal that he was of the Orosini.

Miranda removed the last bandage and noticed the gesture. “Thinking of something?”

“My people,” said Talon.

Miranda nodded. “Many of us come from hardship, Talon. The stories you might hear on this island alone would teach you that you are not alone.” She sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. “Some here are refugees, fleeing from murder and bloodshed, much as you have, and others are survivors, as you are, who have also lost everything of their homes.''

“What is this place, Miranda? Magnus avoids my questions, and Nakor always turns the conversation to something . . .”

“Frivolous?”

Talon smiled. “He can be funny at times.''

“Don't let that grin fool you, boy,” Miranda said as she patted his hand. “He may be the most dangerous man I've met.''

“Nakor?”

“Nakor,” she echoed, standing up. “Now, wait here and rest a bit longer, and someone will be along shortly.”

“For what?” he asked, feeling very restless and wanting to get out of the room.

“To take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

As she left his quarters, she said, “You'll see.''

Talon lay back upon his bed. His body was stiff and aching, and he felt the need to be out doing something, if only for a little while, to stretch his muscles and force air
deep into his lungs. He wanted to run, or climb, or stalk a deer in the woods. Even fishing would be welcome, for the hike down to the beach and back would work up a sweat.

Talon closed his eyes and drifted off into his memories—of the men sitting around telling stories before a bright fire in the long house. He thought of the cleansing rituals, for which special buildings were constructed as the snows receded from the slopes of the mountains, where billowing steam from heated rocks would engulf the gathered groups of ten or more men and women, boys and girls who would chant a welcome to the spring, then remove the winter's accumulated dirt and grime.

He thought of his father and mother and sadness rose up in him. The harsh bitterness he had felt for the first year after the destruction of his people had been replaced by a quiet wistfulness, a resignation to the fact that he was the last of the Orosini and that to him fell the burden of revenge, but beyond that point, his future was unknown to him.

He was drifting, half in a doze, when suddenly he felt someone enter the room.

His eyes snapped open and his heart raced; then he looked up into the face of a young woman he had never seen before. Her face was dominated by the most startling blue eyes he had ever seen, large and the color of cornflowers. Her face was delicate, with a fine chin, full mouth, and almost perfectly straight nose. Her hair was the color of pale honey, with lighter streaks from the sun. She wore a simple blue dress, with bare arms and a scooped neckline, one he had seen many of the women at this place wearing, but on her it looked magnificent, for she had a tall, slender body and moved like a hunter.

“You are Talon?''

“Yes,” he said, having to force that single word through his teeth, for she took his breath away.

“Follow me,” she said.

He rose and followed her as she left the room. Outside, he managed to catch up enough to walk next to her, and asked, “What is your name?''

She turned and regarded him with a serious expression, dipping her chin slightly as if to see him better. Then she smiled, and suddenly her face seemed alight. She spoke in soft tones, her voice almost musical, as she answered, “I am Alysandra.”

He could not think of anything to say. She robbed him of words. Any memory he had of Lela or Meggie vanished before the beauty of this young woman, and suddenly an ache sprang up in his stomach.

They crossed a large courtyard and moved toward part of the main house that Talon had never visited before.

All too quickly, she turned, and said, “In there,” pointing to a doorway. Then, without waiting, she departed, leaving him standing openmouthed as he watched her retreat across the courtyard, everything about her tightening the knot in his stomach. He watched for what seemed only an instant, then she vanished through a doorway, and he was left alone before the door.

After a moment he gathered himself and regarded the door. It was a simple thing of wood with a single handle. He gripped the handle and entered.

Three men stood in an empty room. Two of them Talon recognized: Nakor and Robert.

“Master!” Talon said in surprise.

Robert nodded, and said, “Stand there, Talon.” He pointed to a spot in the middle of the room.

The third man was short, with a beard and dark hair, and he regarded the young man with a gaze that caused Talon some discomfort. There was no mistaking that this man had power. His bearing alone showed that, but there
was more to it than that. In the time spent with Magnus and Robert before him, Talon had come to sense something of the magic arts in a man, and this man fairly reeked of them.

He spoke. “My name is Pug. I am also called the Black Sorcerer.”

Talon nodded, saying nothing.

Pug continued, “This is my island, and all who dwell upon it are my friends and students.”

Robert said, “Pug was my teacher, as was Nakor, Talon.''

Talon remained silent.

Nakor said, “The attack of the death-dancers has changed things, boy. We had been evaluating your progress and were waiting to judge you.''

Talon again remained silent, but his eyes spoke questions.

Robert went on, “You were being judged to see if you were going to stay in my service, until such time as I discharged you from your blood-debt, Talon; or to see if you were perhaps gifted enough that you might be invited to join this company, here upon the island.''

Finally, Talon asked, “What company, Master?''

The three men exchanged glances, and Robert said, “We are called the Conclave of Shadows, Talon. Who we are you shall learn in time, if you are accepted into our ranks. What we do will also be made clear to you.''

“But before you can be told these and many other things,” said Pug, “you must choose to join us. Your debt to Robert will be considered discharged, and you will be a free man, free to do as your conscience bids you—though you will also have obligations to the Conclave.

“But with those obligations come benefits. We have wealth, enough to provide you with whatever you need for
the rest of your life. We have powerful allies, so that you may move easily among nobles and men of power should there be a need.''

Nakor continued, “But we also have powerful enemies. The death-dancers represented a single attempt among many to remove one of our more important members. Had they succeeded in killing Magnus, our cause would have suffered for years to come.''

“What am I being asked to do?''

Robert said, “You are being asked to swear an oath of loyalty, not to me, but to the Conclave, Talon. You will leave this room as a member of our society, and with that oath will come benefits and responsibilities we have as yet only hinted at.''

Talon said, “It sounds as if I am being given a choice in the matter.''

Nakor said, “You are.''

“What is my other option?''

Pug glanced at Robert and Nakor, then replied, “Death.''

Talon stood in silence.

His eyes moved from face to face as he studied the three men and sought to glean some clue from their expressions as to what was expected of him.

All three of them waited motionlessly, their faces revealing nothing of their thoughts. Pug seemed to be watching him as if trying to read his mind. Robert appeared simply to be waiting to see what he would say. Nakor was clearly attempting to interpret something from Talon's posture, his expression, or any other physical sign of a reaction to the choice just put before him.

After a long silence, Talon said, “There is apparently no choice.''

Robert said, “No, there is always a choice. What we have come to, however, is a very difficult choice.” He
paused, then said, “Pug here is my teacher, and the leader of our community.”

Pug studied Talon for a moment, then smiled. When his features relaxed, he suddenly looked years younger than Robert, his student. “You were never meant to come here, Talon. My son brought you to the north shore of the island to isolate you and concentrate on your studies, and to evaluate you more.” The magician waved his hand, and candles set in a metal ring suspended from the ceiling sprang to life so that the room was fully illuminated. Robert and Nakor moved to the corners of the room and returned with four stools. Robert placed one behind Talon and the other next to Pug, and the three interrogators sat down. Pug indicated that Talon should do likewise.

Talon did so, and said, “You'd really kill me if I say no?''

“No,” said Pug, “but you would ‘die' in a sense. We would be forced to remove your memories. We would not be unkind in the process. You would simply fall asleep, and when you awoke, you'd be someone else. A young man who suffered an injury in a war, perhaps, or from falling off the roof of his home.

“People who would claim to have known you all your life would welcome your return to lucidity and would quickly remind you of the knowledge you lack. We can arrange for it to be very persuasive, and in time, you would come to believe that is who you are.''

Talon said, “But in a way you are right: Talon of the Silver Hawk would be dead.''

Robert nodded.

Nakor said, “The last of the Orosini would be lost.''

Talon remained silent for a long while, pondering this. At last he said, “Tell me more, so that I can choose wisely. I have no desire to lose my knowledge of who I am—though forgetting the death of my people might seem a blessing at
times—but I have debts I must repay, and I cannot ignore those.''

Robert spoke. “Should you choose to serve, your debt to me would be considered discharged.”

“There is another,” said Talon.

Pug nodded. “You have a blood-debt.”

“To my people. Had it been only one member of my family or clan, I would still have hunted them down until each had been repaid in kind for his deeds. But these men destroyed my race, for unless anyone has managed to elude death without my knowing of it, I am the last of the Orosini.” He nodded in Nakor's direction. “I cannot die, in either sense of the word—in body or memory—until they are avenged.''

Nakor said, “We are not necessarily at cross-purposes here.” He glanced at Pug, and said, “May I?''

Pug nodded.

Nakor sat back on his stool, reached into a pack he carried on his hip, and pulled out an orange. Then he dug a thick thumbnail into it. He glanced at the other two men and raised an eyebrow. Both of them shook their heads, just a little, and Nakor returned his attention to Talon.

“You see before you the leaders of a group of people,” Nakor began. “This place, this island home, was once the refuge of a nation fleeing a war, or so the story goes. Later it was home to the first Black Sorcerer, a man named Macros. Miranda is his daughter. Pug is Miranda's husband. They are mistress and master of this island, Talon. You've met both their sons.

“Over the years many people have come to stay with us on this island. Students from . . . well, from many places, some never even imagined by most men.” He grinned. “Some I couldn't have imagined, and I've got quite a good imagination.”

Pug interrupted, “We can dispense with the history until later, Nakor. Tell him about what faces him.''

Nakor lost the grin. He bit down on the orange and chewed for a moment, deep in thought. “As I said, we are the leaders of a group of people. Many have come here to train and serve.''

“Serve?” asked Talon.

Nakor grinned. “You know, I've never had to explain to anyone in one sitting what it is we do, Pug.''

Pug nodded. “And you will not now. Just give him a general sense of who we are, and if he agrees to serve, we shall educate him incrementally along the way.''

Robert held up a hand. “If I may?''

Pug nodded.

“Talon, we three belong to the Conclave of Shadows. The Conclave consists of men and women who have banded together for a reason. That reason will become clearer to you as time passes, but for the moment, there are things you are not ready to understand.

“I can tell you this much. We serve a purpose which opposes much of the evil abroad in the world today, including the forces that conspired to destroy your homeland. If your current goal is to avenge your people, your best opportunity to do so rests in serving us.''

Talon looked Robert in the eye. “I owe you my life, Master, and will honor my debt, but you ask me to take at face value a very serious claim. I have seen nothing at Kendrick's or here to make me question that claim, and nothing that would make me think you or these other men might be evil. But my grandfather once told me that men who do evil often do so in the name of a great good, and that the Orosini had history with shamans and chieftains who misled the people, claiming they were doing right.

“I saw evil with my own eyes the day my people died. I
do not know the reason for the destruction of my nation. I only know that those men who killed the women and children of my clan did evil.''

Robert held up his hand. “This much I can attest to: the men who destroyed your home were not acting out of any misplaced sense of a greater good. They were hired mercenaries who kill for gold, aided and abetted by soldiers from the Duchy of Olasko. We will talk in the future about that. For the moment, consider that we have common cause against those whom you seek for revenge.''

“Robert, you saved my life when others might have simply left me for the crows and vultures,” Talon said. “I have seen nothing in you or your friends that I find to be dishonorable. Caleb and Magnus”—he nodded at Pug—“have taught me much, and while I lingered here healing, I heard laughter . . .” He thought about Alysandra. “There is much here that brings joy.” He took a deep breath and went on, “The gods have placed my feet upon a path, to what purpose and what ends I can only guess. But since the day I awoke in your wagon, Robert, I have been in your care. Tell me what to do.''

“I cannot, Talon. You must know this. Any oath made to the Conclave of Shadows must be made freely and without doubt. For once you enter our ranks, you may not turn back. To renounce that oath will bring you death.''

Pug added, “And not merely the death of the memory. For once you become one with us, you will begin to learn things that may not be shared with outsiders. Things that you must be willing to die to keep secret.''

Nakor grinned. “But there is good in taking that oath, too. We have many marvels to show you, and wonders to behold. You will learn more in a year here than you would in a dozen lifetimes in the mountains you knew as home.''

“Already I have learned a great deal,” Talon said.

Nakor continued, “When you seek your revenge, you will need resources and allies. We can provide you with both.''

“What must I do?''

Pug got off his stool and went to stand before Talon, while Nakor and Robert moved so that one of them stood on each side of him.

“Do you swear to give first fealty to the Conclave of Shadows, Talon of the Silver Hawk? Do you enter our ranks freely and of your own will? Do you swear to obey those given dominion over you and to protect with your life those given to your care? Do you swear to keep those secrets entrusted to you? Answer to all with affirmation, or be silent. All or nothing, Talon. What do you say?''

Talon was silent for a moment, then he took another deep breath and said, “Yes, I will serve.''

“Good. That is good,” Nakor said. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and produced another orange. “Want one?''

Talon took it. “Thank you.''

Robert said, “Well then, I suppose I should tell Magnus to close down that little hut of his and join us here. Talon's education is about to begin in earnest.''

And with that, he left the room.

“Nakor,” said Pug, “show Talon where he will be staying. Put him in with Rondar and Demetrius.”

Nakor nodded. “Come along, boy.''

After they had gone, Pug stood alone for a long minute, then he said as if into the air, “What do you think?''

From the shadows in the farthest corner of the room there came a voice: “I think you gave the boy no choice.” Miranda stepped out into the light.

“What else could I do?''

“Heal him, and let me take his memories and put him
back in Magnus's hut. Magnus could have told him some story about a fall from the bluffs or a wild animal. With the right suggestion, the boy would have accepted it.''

Pug nodded. “You're right.''

With a wry smile she came and slipped her arm around her husband's waist. “I'm always right.''

“Of course, my love,” said Pug, returning the smile.

“So, the question remains, why did you give him no choice?''

Pug was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I don't know. A sense of something in him. I think he's going to be important to us.''

“Why?”

“I don't know. I only know that lately our enemy has grown subtle. Those death-dancers were unexpected. They remind me of years gone by.''

“They fear Magnus's growing power.''

“Well they should. He may eventually be the most powerful magic-user to have set foot on this world.''

“If we can keep him alive,” Miranda said with a mother's worry in her tone.

“Those death-dancers are more in keeping with the days when we were attacked with armies or demons.''

“Something's got them annoyed.''

Pug laughed. “Magnus destroying that death cult's temple down in southern Kesh might have irritated them enough to try something like this.''

“Death-dancers are not trivial magic, my love. If I had the inclination to practice that sort of foul art, and three humans willing to give their souls to create them, it would still take me months to do so.” She regarded her husband quizzically. “And I am better at that sort of thing than you.''

Pug smiled. “I know. But that's why I think Talon may prove important.”

“Why?”

“Because while wolves fight over the carcass of a deer, a mouse may slip in and grab scraps.''

“Wolves eat mice,” she reminded him.

“Only if they know they're there. But while our enemies are attempting to destroy our son, they won't see Talon coming.''

Miranda snuggled closer to her husband as if suddenly cold. “For the boy's sake, I hope you're right.''

“Which boy? Talon or Magnus?''

Miranda sighed. “Both.''

Talon followed Nakor down the corridor, his small bundle of belongings clutched to his chest. His body still felt weak, but the stiffness was leaving him. They passed a series of doors, most of which were closed, but through a couple of open ones Talon saw beds set up, four to a room.

As he passed one room, he could see Alysandra sitting on a bed, engaged in a low conversation with a dark-haired girl who was giggling, her hand covering her mouth. Both girls glanced up as Talon went by, and Talon heard both girls start to laugh.