Talon of the Silver Hawk (27 page)

The carriage stopped in front of his apartment, a three-room second-floor flat. The first-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 neighbor 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 Bathhouse 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 surprise, Pasko had treated him as if he had been born to the nobility, and never once referred to Talon's past history or forget 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 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 his 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 shame not only 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 honorably?

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 sleep still 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 traveling 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 all 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: the 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 was an assassin employed by some angry young woman or her father, that was one thing, but if it had anything to do with the Conclave of Shadows, that was another. He might have to send Pasko to alert Robert and the others.

Talon took a leisurely stroll to the bathhouse, avoiding his usual route, and stopped several times to ensure he was no longer being followed.

At Remarga's he was greeted by one of the many attendants, this one well known to him. “Good afternoon, m'lord,” the man said.

“Good afternoon, Sven,” Tal replied. “Is Salmina free?''

“I shall see, sir. You wish to have her services?”

“Yes,” said Tal, and he went into the changing room.

Sven stood by to care for Tal's clothing and provide him with whatever he needed. To begin with, Tal was given a large cotton towel, in which he wrapped himself. As he left the changing room, Sven put his clothing and sword away. Tal found himself a small wooden stool next to a large bucket of warm water. Beside the bucket was a bar of scented soap and a brush. Placed next to the stool was a tray containing small, delicate earthenware jars adorned with floral designs. Tal picked up the bucket and poured the contents over his head, and as soon as he set it down, a young boy appeared with a fresh bucket of warm water and took the empty one away.

First of all, Tal treated his hair with a scented oil, and wondered not for the first time what his grandfather would have thought of all this. The old man's way of taking a bath had been plunging into the iciest streams and lakes and reveling in it. But given his grandfather's appreciation of
comfort, Tal decided that the old man would have approved of the entire process. Just then a young woman appeared, wearing a brief robe of white linen, which clung to her in the damp heat of the bathhouse. Tal knew his grandfather would very much have approved of
this,
for the old man had never lost his eye for women, a fact he regularly commented on, to the ire of Tal's grandmother.

Feeling a moment of nostalgia, he said nothing but allowed her to begin soaping his back. Remarga trained his staff well: she would not speak unless spoken to first. Some customers wanted banter and flirtation, and a few desired more personal services, which could be arranged for a price, which included a small private suite at the back of the building. Others preferred calm and quiet and wanted nothing more than to keep their thoughts to themselves while they bathed.

Tal stood up and the girl finished washing his back and shoulders, then started on his chest. Tal gently removed the bar of soap from her hand and dismissed her as he finished the task himself. He knew that had he remained motionless, she would have washed every inch of his body, but his mind was on other things besides playing with a bath-girl, and he ought to keep his mind focused on Melinda, who would be more than eager to meet his need for passion after supper.

Tal picked up another bucket and rinsed off the soap, then moved to the next room, which was clouded with steam. The bath was very hot, and Tal entered slowly, feeling the hair on his neck and arms rise as he forced himself into the deeper end of the pool, where he could sit on an underwater bench, lying back with his shoulders against the coping that ran around the edge of the pool.

A plump matron entered, handed her towel to the attendant, and got into the water. Tal had traveled enough since
being saved by Robert to have some sense of the various ways different people regarded the showing of parts of the body and other personal practices, but Roldem seemed among the oddest. Female fashions tended to the conservative, except for grand occasions, at which time women wore clothing that was revealing to the point of being entirely scandalous. The Countess Amandi had arrived at Baron Gruder's gala the previous week in an ornate Keshian gown which left both breasts uncovered, something she had compensated for by wearing a complex choker of pearls draped down her chest. The constantly moving pearls had provided a provocative attraction, to say the least. Plunging backs and deep décolletage at such events were common for women who during the day went about the city covered from neck to ankle. Even more strange, to Tal, was the way in which women and men changed in separate rooms, yet
bathed together publicly. Talon assumed that at some time in Roldem's history someone in authority had decided that nudity was fine, but dressing and undressing in front of members of the other gender was a bad thing.

Talon found himself chuckling over that, which gained him a raised eyebrow from the matron. He smiled at her and said, “Remembering a jest, m'lady.''

She nodded, not quite convinced.

Talon felt himself relaxing and his thoughts began to drift. If he fell into a doze, the attendants would keep an eye on his property, and, given the number of seriously intoxicated customers over the years, he knew they would also prevent him from falling facefirst in the water and drowning himself.

Pasko would prevent him from staying overly long, and he would soon be there with the clothes he had selected for this evening. So Tal dozed in a warm haze of well-being, his momentary sadness passing quickly.

Sven appeared some time later and said, “Salmina can take you now, m'lord.''

Tal rose and accepted the large towel provided for him by one of the boys in attendance. He followed Sven to a small room curtained off from the changing area. Salmina was a Rodezian woman who stood nearly as tall as Tal's six feet and an inch. She was strong, with powerful hands, but nature had conspired to keep her slender. Tal knew from personal exploration that she had a well-muscled and supple body under the short tunic she wore.

As soon as Sven departed, pulling the curtain closed, she slipped out of the robe and started pouring scented oil upon her hands. “The complete massage, today, m'lord?” she asked playfully.

Tal lay with his chin on his arms, and said, “Not today, my dear. I must save my energy for another, tonight.''

She applied oil to his naked buttocks with a playful slap, just hard enough to let him know that she was slightly disappointed at his answer. Despite being past forty years of age, she was a striking woman, and years of experience made her a prodigious lover. Tal had left with wobbly legs the first time he had consented to the “complete” massage.

“A lion like you? You should be able to make me smile and be ready for half a dozen others in less than an hour.''

Talon had to laugh. “I can barely remember my name or the way home when you've finished with me, Salmina.''

“I take pride in my work.''

“As well you should,” he said with genuine affection.

“Who's the lucky girl?” she asked as she set to, kneading his shoulders.

“Could I call myself a gentleman if I named the lady?''

“Many do, but I suspect you're a bit more discreet than most.''

“Thank you.''

As she always did, she clucked her tongue as she ran her fingers along the many scars on Tal's body. “So young to have suffered so many wounds,” she observed, not for the first time. “Do you think you're ready for the contest?''

He sighed as she started working at his neck. “If I'm not, I'll find out as soon as it begins, won't I?''

“There is that,” she said with a chuckle.

They exchanged banter, then Salmina turned away to get another vial of oil from a table next to the wall.

Suddenly, a sense of danger shot through Talon, and he lunged to his right.

Pain exploded in his left arm as a blade sliced through the skin from his shoulder to a point halfway to his elbow. He rolled off the table and hit the floor in a crouch, ignoring the burning pain.