Talon of the Silver Hawk
Page 15
“Ah,” said Talon as if he understood.
They stood there in silence for another half an hour; then Talon said, “We don’t seem to be doing very well.’’
“At catching fish?’’
“Yes.”
“That’s because we’re using the wrong bait.’’
Talon looked at his teacher in surprise. “The wrong bait?’’
“We might hook a bottom feeder or a shark with dried meat, but if we wanted something lively, we should have put a fresh mackerel on the hook.’’
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“Then why are we doing this?’’
“Because fishing isn’t about catching fish.” The magician looked into the water, and Talon felt the hair on his arms rise, which meant Magnus was about to use magic.
“There,” he said, pointing. He motioned upward with his right hand and something large seemed to leap out of the sea. It was about the size of a small horse, and covered in red scales and had a lethal-looking array of teeth. Once out of the water it thrashed about in midair, attempting to bite at whatever unseen foe held it aloft.
With a flick of his wrist, Magnus let the fish fall back into the waves. “If I want fish, I take fish.’’
“Then why do we stand here with these poles?’’
“For the pleasure of it,” said Magnus. “It’s a way to relax, to think, to ponder.’’
Despite feeling completely silly holding the pole, Talon nevertheless found himself reverting to the lessons he had learned about the process of dragging a hook through the surf.
As the day grew late, he said, “Magnus, may I ask you something?”
“How am I to teach you if you don’t?’’
“Well . . .”
“Out with it,” said Magnus, making another cast into the surf. The wind was picking up, blowing the magician’s white hair back from his face.
“I’m confused about something.”
“What?”
“Women.”
Magnus turned to stare at Talon. “Something specific about women, or just women in general?’’
“In general, I suppose.’’
“You’re hardly the first man to say that.’’
“So I’ve come to understand,” said Talon. “It’s just that 9261.01 3/13/03 12:53 PM Page 149
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among my people, things between men and women were . . .
predictable. Your bride was selected before you returned from your vision quest, and you married shortly afterward.
You stayed with one woman . . .” He lowered his voice. “I’ve already known two women, and I’m wed to neither.’’
“This bothers you?’’
“Yes . . . no . . . I don’t know.’’
Magnus planted his pole in the sand and walked over to Talon. “I can tell you little, my young friend. My experience in this area is very limited.’’
Talon looked at the magician. “You don’t like women?’’
Magnus smiled. “No, it’s not that . . . I had some experience when I was young . . . about your age. It’s just that some of us who practice the magic arts prefer to stay aloof.
Matters of the heart confound things.” He looked out at the sea. “I like to think I gain clarity by avoiding such things.” He looked back at Talon. “But you and I are set upon different paths. What is your question?”
“I was . . . with Lela, for a while. I thought perhaps we might . . .” Talon looked down at the sand, feeling very self-conscious. “I thought we might even wed.’’
Glancing at Magnus, he saw the magic-user betray an instant of amusement, but then his face became once again an immobile mask.
Talon continued. “But when I returned from Latagore with Caleb, she was gone. I barely had time to think about not seeing her again when Meggie . . .”
“Ah,” said Magnus. “You were with her when I woke you that morning, that’s right.’’
“Well, how can I feel so strongly for Lela, yet so easily find myself with Meggie? And I didn’t even think about Lela the whole time we were together.”
Magnus nodded. “Let me ask you, if I could bring either girl here this instant, who would you wish to see?’’
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Talon stood silently, holding his fishing pole. “I don’t know,” he answered at last. “I thought I loved Lela . . . I do love her. But there’s something about the way Meggie . . .
moves. She’s . . . ardent. That’s the word, isn’t it?”
Magnus fell silent for a moment, then he said, “The ways of the heart are complex.” He looked out at the ocean again. “The waves churn and break upon the rocks, Talon.
So do human feelings. Passion can be a man’s undoing.
With passion must come wisdom; otherwise, your enemies have a weapon to use against you.’’
“I don’t understand.”
“Most men are passionate about something at some time in their lives. It may be about a women he loves, or his calling or craft, or it may be about an ideal.’’
“An ideal?’’
Magnus nodded. “There are men who would willingly give their lives for an ideal. Men who put the greater good ahead of their own personal gain.” He looked at Talon.
“Then there are the dark passions: ambition, greed, lust, a hunger for power.
“What you feel for Lela and Meggie is somewhere between those extremes, between the ideal and the dark. At its worst, what you feel is blind lust, without regard for the complexities of the women you pursue. At its most ideal, you will fall under the spell of women too easily, thinking each worthy of selfless adoration.
“Either extreme is a mistake.’’
Talon nodded his understanding.
“You are young. There will be many women in your life if you want them. But circumstances may place you in such a position where you must discern the truth quickly, as to whether it is mere lust or if it there is some deeper love involved.
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for the most part. At least they had no evil designs upon you. They cared for you in their way, and you for them. But I also remember what it was like to be your age, to gaze into a pair of green eyes and be swept away by feelings so intense I thought my heart would stop, only to have the feelings repeated just a few short days later when gazing into brown eyes.
“That is the heart of a young man, Talon. It must be tamed and reined in, like a fractious colt. It must be made to follow the mind, for you will learn that love is a difficult thing.’’
“I don’t know if you’ve answered my question.”
“I don’t know if you’ve understood what it was you were asking.” Magnus picked up his pole, reeled in the line, and cast it out in the surf again. “We’ll speak more about this soon. And before too long there will be others you can ask about such things. Others who are more able than me to address your concerns.”
“Thank you, Magnus.’’
“Think nothing of it. You will have many more questions for me before our time on this island is over.’’
“How much longer will I be staying here?’’
“As long as it takes.’’
“As long as what takes?’’
“Whatever it is we are to accomplish,” answered Magnus.
Talon started to ask another question, then thought better of it.
The afternoon wore on, and Talon grew hungry. “Are we likely to catch any dinner here?’’
“Getting hungry?’’
“Yes, actually.”
“Do you know how to cook fish?’’
<
br /> Talon had prepared a number of fish dishes with Leo.
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“I do, but you have only the kettle and spit to cook upon. I suppose I could fashion a chowder . . .”
“No,” said Magnus. “I was thinking about something a bit more refined. We’ve been eating soups and roasts for a month or more. Let us have some fine dining tonight.’’
“How shall I prepare such a meal?’’
“Don’t worry,” said Magnus. “First we must find you a proper main course.” He closed his eyes, then opened them again, and Talon thought he saw a faint sheen of light upon them. Magnus held out his hand, palm up, then slowly raised it. From out of the sea came a fish, something close to four feet long. Magnus motioned, and the creature floated through the air and dropped at Talon’s feet. The fish flopped and writhed upon the sand.
“Be careful, those fins can actually cut you if you grab it too firmly.’
Talon looked at Magnus. “I’m to carry it up to the hut?’’
“How else will you get it there?” asked the magician.
Talon attempted to pick up the thrashing creature, but found it both slippery and heavy. “Is there something I can hit it with, to stun it?” he asked after several exasperating attempts to subdue the fish.
“Oh,” said Magnus. With a flick of his hand, the fish fell quiet. “It’s still alive, so it will be fresh when you fillet it.
This creature is called a tuna, and you can grill it lightly, with a variety of different spices. A lightly seasoned rice and an assortment of steamed vegetables would complement it nicely. And some chilled white wine—perhaps an off-dry from Ravensburgh.”
Talon picked up the huge fish and looked at the steep path up to the bluff. “Anything else?’’
“If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.’’
Talon trekked slowly back up the trail, and by the time he reached the hut he was in considerable pain. His arms 9261.01 3/13/03 12:53 PM Page 153
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and shoulders were in knots and his knees shook. The fish must weigh almost as much as he did, he was certain. He wondered what he was supposed to do with it. He could gut it on the table, but it would be messy. Perhaps on the ground outside, then he could wash away the offal with well water. That should get the dirt off it. And if the fillets were large enough, he could spit and roast them.
But where was he going to find rice, or spices? The food so far at Magnus’s hut had been plain, to put it kindly.
He put the fish down, relieved to do so, and stood up, his back rewarding him with a spasm of pain to remind him not to attempt such a foolish thing again. He rubbed at it with the knuckles of his left hand while opening the door with his right.
He stepped inside the hut and almost fell over in shock.
Instead of the small interior he had come to know so well, he was standing in a large kitchen. Larger than the hut. He glanced backward out of the door, and saw the familiar landscape in front of the hut, but the inside of the hut was still quite different.
He took in a large preparation table with a pump where he could clean the fish, and beyond it a stone stove. Next to the stove, a fire burned beneath a metal grill. He saw shelves on the distant back wall and had no doubt there would be spices and rice there. And he was certain that the door would lead to a wine cellar, where he’d find just the right chilled white wine to serve with dinner.
“How did he do this?” Talon murmured softly to himself.
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NINE
CONFUSION
Talon blinked.
He was reading another Kingdom language book, this one a chronicle of the life and times of a merchant of Krondor named Rupert Avery. The merchant before his death had commissioned the tale and had it published, a paean to his own vanity, from Talon’s point of view. The story was badly written and improbable to say the least, for if the tale as told by Avery was to be believed, he was instrumental in Kingdom history, almost single-handedly defeating the agents of chaos attempting to conquer his nation.
Talon judged it a story fit for a talker around the campfire, but only if more attention was paid to the warriors and magicians in the tale and less to a boy who grew rich. He tilted the chair he was sitting on back against the wall. He was beginning to understand the concept of wealth. Other 9261.01 3/13/03 12:53 PM Page 155
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people seemed to delight in amassing it. He was Orosini, and from his point of view anything you couldn’t eat, wear, or use was a luxury. And collecting luxuries after a certain point was a waste of time and energy.
Yet with his understanding of the concept of wealth, he was beginning to understand the concept of power. For reasons alien to him, there were those who lusted after power as much as this Avery had lusted after wealth. Men like the Duke of Olasko, who wanted nothing so much as to wear a crown and be called King, though from what Caleb and Magnus had told him, he might just as well be called King in the lands of Olasko and Aranor right now.
Talon rocked his chair forward again and put the book on the table. He had been alone for three days because Magnus was off on one of his mysterious journeys. Talon had been given a set of tasks by the magician, some reading—which Talon enjoyed now that he had been reading for over a year—and some practicing a strange series of moves, almost like dance, which the magician had taught him. Magnus claimed that the dance was a form of open-handed fighting, called Isalani, if Talon had it right, and that years of studying it would make him more profi-cient in other areas of combat. He also had to keep the hut clean and feed himself.
It filled most of his day, but what time he had left he used to explore, though Magnus had instructed him to stay on the north shore of the island. To the south a ridge of hills rose up, perhaps half a day’s easy walk, and Magnus had instructed him not to climb those hills or pass along the beach south of them. Magnus didn’t explain why he should not go south, or what would happen if he ignored the instruction, but Talon was not inclined to challenge the magician.
A great deal of Talon’s life was now centered around waiting. He was waiting to discover what he was being 9261.01 3/13/03 12:53 PM Page 156
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trained to do, for now he was certain Robert and the others had a purpose for him.
His education was proceeding at a fast pace: languages—he was almost fluent in the King’s Tongue, the main language of the Kingdom of the Isles, spoke almost flawless Roldemish, and was starting to learn dialects from the Empire of Great Kesh—geography, history, and music.
Music was what he enjoyed the most. Magnus had a spell he used to conjure up performances by musicians whom he had encountered over the years. Some of the simpler music sounded almost familiar to Talon; but more sophisticated music, played for nobles by accomplished musicians, was just as compelling. To aid in his understanding of music, Magnus had told Talon he would learn to play instruments, and had started him off with a simple pipe, which lay on the table—a long wooden tube, with six holes cut in it. It was very much like one his father had played, and Talon had quickly mastered playing some simple melodies on it.
Talon rubbed his face with one hand. His eyes felt gritty, and his back hurt. He stood up and glanced out of the window. The afternoon sun was setting. Talon realized he had been studying the book all afternoon.
He glanced at the hearth, where a large cauldron sat half filled with a stew he had prepared two days before. It was still edible, but he had tired of the same fare. He judged that he had maybe an hour in which to hunt or hurry to the shore and fish.
Sundown was a good time for either activity. The island had a large p
ond a short distance away from the hut, where game would gather to drink at sunrise and sunset, and the fish beyond the breakers seemed to be more active at sundown.
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He wrestled with the choice for just a moment, then decided that fishing was more to his liking. The stalking of game required too much concentration, and right now he was in the mood to stand upon the sand, with the wind in his face and his eyes focused on something farther away than the end of his arms.
Talon grabbed his pole and creel and headed out of the door.
__
The sun had set by the time Talon started back up the hill. In a few short minutes he had managed to catch two large jack smelts, more than enough for his supper. He would cook them over the wood fire in the hearth, upon a metal grill, and add some spices Magnus kept in a small chest. He wished he had some rice to cook with it, and realized how much luxury he had been exposed to by Leo in the kitchen at Kendrick’s.
His mother often prepared fish, and served it with whatever roots or berries the women had gathered. Sometimes a corncake, hand-rolled and cooked by the fire, made with honey, berries, or nuts, would be served along with the game. But Talon now appreciated food far more than his mother would ever have imagined. It was amusing to think he was probably the best cook in the history of his people.
As he rounded a small bend in the trail near the summit of the bluff, he stopped. The sky was still light with the just-set sun, but darkness was quickly descending. He sensed something.
He listened. The woods near the hut were silent. There should have been noises, the scurrying of the day animals seeking out their lairs as the night predators made their presence known. Night birds should have been flitting about, seeking insects.
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Instead, there was a stillness that could mean only one thing: men were nearby.
For an instant Talon wondered if Magnus had returned, but somehow he knew that wasn’t the case. It just felt wrong.