‘Much, according to your teachers.’
‘Are you now one of my teachers?’
Nakor shrugged and stood up. ‘We’ll see. Now, I hear your new companions returning, so I’ll leave you to get to know one another.’
As he reached the door, two young men of roughly Talon’s age entered the room. Seeing Nakor, they stepped back to let him pass, bowing their heads slightly in respect. ‘You have a new boy to share your quarters with,’ Nakor said as he passed.
‘Yes, Master Nakor,’ said one of the two boys, a fair-haired, broad-shouldered boy with green eyes and a dusting of freckles across his nose.
The other young man had dark hair, but was fair-skinned, and Talon couldn’t tell if he was attempting to grow a man’s beard or if he had just done a poor job of shaving the day before. He had almost black eyes which narrowed slightly at the sight of Talon. He threw himself down on the bed against the same wall as Talon’s, while the lighter-haired boy took the bed opposite.
‘I’m Demetrius,’ he said. He pointed to the dark lad and said, ‘That’s Rondar. He doesn’t talk much.’ They spoke the King’s Tongue, which seemed to be the preferred language on the island.
Rondar nodded, but kept silent.
‘I’m Talon,’ said Talon.
Demetrius returned the nod. ‘Heard of you. You managed to avoid being killed by three death-dancers. Impressive.’
Talon sat back on the bed, leaning against the wall. ‘I don’t even know what a death-dancer is.’
Rondar said, ‘Bad.’
‘Very bad,’ agreed Demetrius. ‘Conjured beings, using the souls of the damned. One mission, to kill a specific person. Very hard to avoid one, but three …’
‘Impressive,’ said Rondar.
Talon said, ‘Have you been here a long time?’
‘Five years,’ Demetrius replied. ‘My father used to make potions and poultices in a village down in the south of Kesh, near a city called Anticostinas. Well, it was hardly a city – a big town, really. Some priests of Guis-Wa denounced him as a “heretic” because he was “using magic”, even though I didn’t see much magic involved, just a lot of herbs, plants and common sense. But one night some drunks from the city came out and burned the house to the ground, killing my family. I wandered around for a while until I ran across Nakor, who showed me some tricks.
‘Turns out my father wasn’t a magician, but maybe I am. So I’m here to learn.’
‘I lost my family, too,’ Talon said. He looked at Rondar, who looked at Demetrius and nodded once.
‘His father is the chief of a band of Ashunta horsemen down in northern Kesh. Very good horsemen—’
‘Best,’ added Rondar.
‘—good hunters—’
‘Best,’ repeated Rondar.
Talon grinned. ‘We’ll see about that!’
‘—and otherwise a bunch of opinionated, unwashed barbarians who treat women like cattle and cattle like pets.’
Rondar shrugged. ‘True.’
Talon’s grin widened. ‘How does he get along with Miranda?’
Demetrius laughed. ‘She’s educating him as to the proper respect to show to women.’
Rondar’s expression darkened. With a sigh of resignation, he rested his chin on his arms and said, ‘Painfully true.’
Talon said, ‘How’d you get here?’
Rondar rolled over. He was quiet for a moment, and then spoke as if talking at all was a trial to him. ‘My people are horsemen. If you can’t ride and hunt, no women. No women, no children.’ He put his arm across his eyes as if remembering was fatiguing. ‘Men who can’t ride are … less. Less than men. They gather firewood, help with the cooking, raise the boys.’
Talon glanced at Demetrius. ‘What do the women do?’
Demetrius grimaced and said, ‘They’re property.’
‘They make babies. Men raise boys.’
Demetrius said, ‘It’s a close thing as to what’s worth more to an Ashunta horseman, a good horse or a woman.’
Rondar said, ‘Depends on if there are more horses or women around.’ He rolled over again and leaned on his elbows. His dark eyes looked hard at Talon. ‘We have our ways,’ he said. ‘I’m not a good rider, but the shaman says I have talent. So, I go live with the shaman.’ He looked as if he had reached the limit of his patience and said to Demetrius, ‘You tell him.’
Demetrius made a wry expression and said, ‘The home of the Ashunta is in the west of the Empire, rolling grasslands no one else wants, but a good way for slavers and renegades to move around without running foul of the Imperial army. Our friend and his master were off gathering herbs for some sort of ritual when a band of slavers happened on them. The shaman was too old to be worth anything, but our strapping young friend here was a prize for the auction blocks.’
‘Nakor bought me,’ Rondar offered. ‘He talks too much.’
Talon smiled. ‘Who, Nakor or Demetrius?’
Rondar said, ‘Yes.’
Demetrius reached over and gave Rondar a playful slap to the back of the head. ‘Our taciturn friend here is actually a very good fellow, despite his pretence of being a man of few words – he’s glib enough when one of the girls is in the mood to listen to his nonsense.’
Rondar lifted his head and grinned. ‘True.’
Talon said, ‘About the girls …’
Rondar and Demetrius exchanged glances, then with one voice said, ‘Alysandra!’ and burst into laughter.
Talon felt himself flush, but kept his smile fixed on his face. ‘What about her?’
Demetrius said, ‘I heard she’d been in to tend you from time to time.’
Rondar said, ‘Every boy wants her.’
‘You two as well?’ asked Talon.
Demetrius said, ‘Everyone has a try when they meet her. She’s different. But she has a way of making you a friend and feeling like an idiot for trying to get her off alone somewhere.’
Rondar sighed. ‘She’s worth a lot of horses.’
Talon laughed. ‘You sound like you’re in love.’
