Talon raised an eyebrow. He had grown up in a culture in which the sight of the human body was no cause for notice, yet he had learned since coming away from the mountains of the Orosini that many other people viewed nakedness in a very different fashion. Some students swam nude in the lake, while others avoided those gatherings, preferring to swim and bathe alone, or wearing clothing designed for wear in the water. Others, like Rondar, avoided swimming altogether.
Talon had even discussed the matter with Nakor, which probably had been a poor choice, since his instructor had left him with more questions than answers. Even so, Talon felt compelled to ask, ‘Master Maceus?’
‘Yes?’
‘Are such paintings common?’
‘Common enough,’ said Maceus, though he added a self-conscious cough and remarked, ‘Though not often for public viewing. Private collections and the like. Still, statuary, that’s another story. Great heroes are often depicted in various stages of undress, their bodies showing magnificent wounds. But I’m not concerned about your ability to create something to titillate a bored noble; nor do I think you have the makings of a sculptor. It’s a matter of seeing below the surface, Talon.’ He pointed to the work on the easel and went on, ‘You’ve captured the surface of the boys, the overall sense of the planes and angles of their faces and clothing, but the muscles underneath, the curves of their shoulders, arms, chest – all that is missing. When you paint a portrait you must think of the body beneath, the spirit within: then you clothe the subject with your brushes and knives. When you look at the naked body, see the bone, sinew and muscle within, and clothe them in skin and hair. You’ll learn to understand this.’ With a rare smile, he added, ‘We may make a painter of you yet.’
Thinking of trying to persuade Rondar to stand in the room with no clothing, Talon said, ‘Should I seek another subject?’
‘Do not concern yourself. I’ll send someone along tomorrow.’
Talon nodded, thinking about what his instructor had said, and slowly began to clear away his brushes and paints.
Talon hurried from the kitchen. He had been assigned breakfast duty and had been up for two hours before the rest of the community had arisen. He had spent the entire time in the kitchen, until the afternoon crew had come aboard. He was to have returned to his quarters to meet the model for his new painting, but Nakor had found him and sent him off on an errand, telling him he’d meet the model later.
It had taken almost all of the afternoon for Talon to finish Nakor’s bidding, and now he was ready to return to his quarters to take a quick bath before supper. But when he got there, he found Rondar and Demetrius picking up the wooden chest that held Talon’s belongings. ‘What’s going on?’ Talon asked.
‘Moving,’ said Rondar.
‘We’re moving?’
‘You’re moving,’ said Demetrius. ‘I don’t know why, but we just got orders to take all your things down to that little cottage by the lake. You know the one.’
Talon grinned. The cottage was often used by students for assignations after hours. Then his grin faded. If he was being assigned that hut as quarters, any number of students would be less than thrilled.
As if reading his mind, Rondar said, ‘They can use the stable.’
Demetrius laughed. ‘He’s right. There are plenty of other places to get friendly. I’m partial to the baths after dark, myself. Water’s still very warm, it’s quiet …’ He grunted theatrically as he lifted the trunk, but Talon knew it wasn’t heavy, just big.
He let them go past him and out through the door, then fell in behind them. ‘My bed?’
‘Moved an hour ago,’ said Demetrius. ‘Along with your painting gear. We just couldn’t get this trunk into the wagon with the rest.’
‘Why?’ asked Talon. ‘I don’t have much, certainly not enough to fill a wagon.’
Demetrius again grinned. ‘You’d be surprised.’
They moved down the hall to where the now-empty wagon waited, and loaded the trunk. In a few minutes they were bumping along down the track that led from the village, past the lake, to the small hut.
It might once have been a charcoal-burner’s hut, or perhaps the hut of a gamekeeper, but it had for some reason fallen out of use and been uninhabited for years. When they got there, Demetrius reined in the horse and Talon jumped down from the back of the wagon. He and Rondar got the trunk down and manoeuvred it to where Demetrius stood, holding open the door.
As he stepped into the cottage, Talon stopped stock-still. Then he said softly, ‘I’ll be …’
‘The girls were in here yesterday cleaning, and Rondar and I moved everything else,’ Demetrius said.
‘But where did all this come from?’ asked Talon, indicating the room.
The cottage was spacious, larger than the hut he had shared with Magnus. A hearth complete with spit and an iron cauldron on a hook for stews and soups waited for a fire. A free-standing pantry had been placed near at hand, and a small table occupied the corner between the pantry and the fireplace. His bed rested against the opposite wall, near the door, and at the foot of it had placed a large wooden wardrobe. Talon and Rondar set the trunk down next to the wardrobe. Talon opened its door and exclaimed, ‘Look at this!’
Fine garments, of various colours and cuts, hung neatly inside.
Rondar said, ‘Gentleman.’
Demetrius nodded. ‘Seems to be the case. But why here I have no idea.’
Looking at one doublet, with enough eyelets and fasteners to confound the eye, Talon said, ‘To practise getting dressed, I suppose. Look at these things.’
Hose, leggings, trousers, singlets, doublets, waistcoats, all hung neatly from wooden rods and hangers. In the bottom of the wardrobe half a dozen different types of boots and shoes were neatly arranged.
Then Talon caught sight of the far corner. ‘Books!’ he exclaimed with pleasure. He crossed the room to examine the titles on the shelves there. ‘All new to me,’ he said quietly.
‘Well,’ said Demetrius, ‘we’re for supper. I’ve been told to tell you you’re on your own for a while. Someone will bring you your supper tonight and some other provisions, and then you’re to keep to yourself for a while.’
Talon knew better than to ask why. No one would have told Demetrius.
Rondar pointed to the easel. ‘Practise.’
‘Yes,’ said Talon. ‘I guess they want me to focus on that, and these other things.’
‘We’ll see you around, I’m sure,’ said Demetrius. ‘Come along, Rondar. Let’s get the wagon back to the stable.’
The two friends left, and Talon sat down and drank in his new surroundings. It was strange to think that, at least for a short while, this would be his home, and it filled him with an odd melancholy. He had never lived alone, not since the day of his birth. The only significant time he had been by himself had been upon Shatana Higo, waiting for his vision.
He sat quietly, letting the mood sweep through him. He remembered what he had been taught and allowed the nostalgic longing for his childhood to pass through him; he would not engage that sorrow now. He would acknowledge it and renew his vow that some day his people would be avenged; and then he would let it go.
Twilight was upon him before he realized it. He was just lighting a lamp when he heard a wagon pull up outside the hut. It must be his supper, he thought.
He opened the door and almost fell over backwards to get out of the way of Alysandra, who marched purposely into the room carrying a steaming kettle of something wonderful. Behind her a voice called, ‘I’ll unload.’
‘Thanks, Jom,’ she said over her shoulder.
‘What are you doing here?’ Talon asked.
‘I’ve brought you your supper,’ she said. ‘Didn’t they tell you?’
‘They told me someone was bringing it, but not who,’ he answered, then felt foolish for having said it.
She smiled, then removed the light cloak she had around her shoulders. Underneath it she wore a simple dress, off the shoulders, and her hair fell around her face. Talon felt his chest tighten.
He stood there speechless for a long moment, then said, ‘I’ll help Jom.’
She smiled and turned to find plates and cups.
Jom handed down two large sacks to Talon and said, ‘I’ve got more in that box, there.’
‘What is it?’
