‘Some men live their lives, Talon, without having to make many decisions. They are born to a place, grow up in that place, marry and father children in that place, grow old and die in that place. This is how it was to have been for you, is it not?’
Talon nodded.
‘Other men are cast adrift by fate and must choose their own lives. That is how it is with you now.’
‘But I am in your debt.’
‘And you shall repay that debt. Then what?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then we have a common purpose, for in discovering how you may best serve me, we shall also discover what your destiny is.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Robert smiled. ‘That’s not necessary, yet. You will in time. Now, let me tell you some things you should know.
‘You will spend the next year here, at Kendrick’s. You will do many things, serving in the kitchen as you have, and in the stable, and in other capacities as Kendrick sees best. You will also, from time to time, serve Caleb or Magnus, should they need you while they are staying here. And from time to time you will travel with me.’ He turned, putting his hand upon the book once more. ‘And we shall start tomorrow by teaching you to read.’
‘To read, Robert?’
‘You have a bright mind, Talon of the Silver Hawk, but it is untutored. You were educated in the ways of your people to be a good and true man of the Orosini. Now you must be educated in the ways of the world.’
‘I still don’t understand, Robert.’
Robert motioned for Talon to stand. When he had, Robert said, ‘Go away and go to sleep. You will understand over time. I sense a potential for greatness in you, Talon. I may be wrong, but if you fail to develop that potential, it will not be for a lack of effort.’
Not knowing what to say, Talon merely nodded, turned and left. He paused outside Robert’s door and thought to himself, Potential for what?
Talon waited, sword ready. Magnus stood a short distance away, observing. The boy was already drenched with perspiration and was sporting several red welts on his shoulders and back from the blows he had taken.
Kendrick stood before him, a wooden training sword in his hand, motioning for the boy to attack one more time. He had allowed Talon to use a real blade, claiming that if the boy could cut him he deserved to bleed, and so far he had proven his ability to avoid being touched. But Talon was fast and learned quickly, and he was getting closer and closer to reaching Kendrick.
Magnus had said nothing during the training exercise, but he watched every move closely.
Talon attacked, this time holding his blade back as if readying for a downward strike. He suddenly spun away from Kendrick’s right side – his sword side – and slashed down and sideways with the blade, a vicious swing at Kendrick’s unprotected left side. Kendrick sensed the move only at the last instant, and barely got his own blade in place for a block, but suddenly Talon reversed himself and slashed in a backhand at Kendrick’s right side, which was now unprotected since he had over-extended himself for the block.
With a satisfying ‘thunk’ the flat of Talon’s blade slapped into the innkeeper’s back, eliciting a grunt of pain and Kendrick shouted, ‘Hold!’
Talon turned, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and watched as the innkeeper studied him. ‘Who taught you that move, boy?’
‘No one, sir. I just … thought of it a moment ago.’
The innkeeper reached back and rubbed where Talon had struck him. ‘Fancy move, and beyond most swordsmen’s imagination, let alone their capacity, yet you pulled it off the first time.’
Talon didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure if he was being praised or not. He was getting to be almost fluent in Roldemish, but some of the nuances and idioms were still lost on him.
Kendrick handed his practice blade to Talon and said, ‘We’re done for today. Put these away and see what Leo has for you do to in the kitchen.’
Talon wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic, took the weapon and hurried off towards the kitchen. When he was out of hearing, Magnus said, ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘He’s a cat, that one,’ said Kendrick. ‘I would have wagered a bag of gold he couldn’t touch me for at least two more lessons. At first I could whack him at will. Then he started anticipating my blows. Defence first, instinctually, knowing that survival comes before victory. He’s a smart one, too, as well as fast.’
‘How good can he be?’
Kendrick shrugged. ‘If you want a battle-butcher, I can have him ready to storm a wall in a month. If you want a swordsman, he’ll need better masters than I.’
‘And where would I find such?’
‘Give him to me for the year, then he’ll be ready for the Masters’ Court in Roldem. One or two years there and he’ll be one of the finest swordsmen I’ve ever seen.’
‘That good?’
Kendrick nodded. ‘More. He may be the best if something doesn’t ruin him along the way.’
Magnus held his iron-shod staff and leaned against it, staring at where Talon had last been visible, as if maintaining the image of the fatigued youth, dripping with his own perspiration, his hair lank and plastered to his head, hurrying to the kitchen. ‘What sort of something?’
‘Drink. Drugs. Gambling. Women. The usual.’
Kendrick looked at Magnus. ‘Or whatever plots and intrigues your father has lying in wait for him.’
Magnus nodded. ‘Father’s left the boy’s fate up to Robert. Talon is not part of our plans … yet, but father heard Robert’s report on him and counts him a fortuitous opportunity.’
‘Fortuitous for whom?’ asked Kendrick. ‘Come, I need to bathe. That lad worked me more than I expected.’
Magnus said, ‘Had Robert and Pasko not found him, Talon would be dead with the rest of his tribe. It’s Robert’s judgment that every minute from that moment on is borrowed time. The boy’s got a second chance.’
‘Ah, but who is going to use that chance?’ asked Kendrick. ‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’
Magnus said, ‘We’re all used, in one fashion or another. Do you think for a moment my life could be any different?’
‘No, you were fated by nothing more basic than who your parents were. Your brother, however, had choices.’
‘Not that many, really,’ said Magnus. ‘Caleb had no gift for magic, but he could have been something more than a soldier.’
Kendrick said, ‘Your brother is more than a soldier. Elven-trained as a hunter, master of more languages than I know of, and as skilled a student of men as lived. I wish I’d had him with me back when we put down the rebellion in Bardac’s Holdfast; trying to get information out of the prisoners at Traitors’ Cove was no spring fair, I can tell you. Caleb can tell when a man is lying just by looking at him.’ Kendrick shook his head, ‘No, there is nothing about any member of your family that I’d count as begging. And I think it’s much the same with the boy. I think he could be many things.’ He slapped Magnus lightly upon the shoulder. ‘Just don’t ruin him by trying to make him too many things, my friend.’
Magnus said nothing. He stopped to let Kendrick move ahead of him, then turned and looked into the sky as if trying to read something in the air. He listened to the sound of the woodlands, and then cast his senses outwards. Everything was as it should be. He turned and looked back. What had briefly troubled him? Perhaps it was Kendrick’s warning about the boy. Still, a sword was not forged until the metal was heated, and if a flaw existed in the steel, that was when you found it, in the crucible. And every blade would be needed for the war to come if his father’s plan wasn’t successful.
Talon heaved the last of the flour sacks onto the pile he had been constructing. A wagon-load of provisions had arrived from Latagore and he had spent the afternoon unloading it, hauling them down the steps into the basement below the kitchen. Besides enough flour for the winter, there were baskets of vegetables and fruits imported from other lands, preserved by some fey art that Talon didn’t understand, though he had overheard enough in the kitchen to know that such magic preservation was costly beyond the means of any but the noble and wealthy.
Leo and Martha had taken command of a variety of small boxes, containing spices, herbs and condiments that the cook counted more valuable than their weight in gold. All their provisions for the winter, with what they could grow in the garden and harvest in the autumn, and what Talon and Caleb could hunt, meant a winter of good food, far beyond what the boy was used to.
‘Talon!’ came Lela’s voice from above. He hurried up the broad wooden steps, and saw her standing next to the wagon, a rapt expression on her face. ‘Look!’ She pointed skyward.
Snow was falling, tiny flakes blown about by a gentle but persistent breeze, most of them melting upon reaching the ground. ‘It’s just snow,’ Talon said.
Lela threw him a pout, one of her many expressions which caused his stomach to go hollow. ‘It’s wonderful,’ she said. ‘Don’t you think it’s beautiful?’
