Exile's Return: Conclave of Shadows: Book Three

by Raymond E. Feist

  A creature that looked like an elephant with a crocodile’s hide and no trunk, but rather the face of a sloth, was being ridden around slowly, crushing people staked out to the floor.

  In another area people were being set on fire and let loose to run until they fell over and were consumed by flames.

  Everywhere Kaspar looked he saw pain and suffering, and those in the seats above howled in laughter and pleasure. At many points along the terraces he saw couples aroused by the bloodshed to the point of mating, ignoring those around them.

  A male Dasati was looking over the edge of the arena, where a pack of small doglike creatures were tearing people limb from limb. The spectator’s neighbor stood up, put his foot to the first man’s backside, and pushed him into the arena. As the startled man fell into the waiting maw of the slavering animals, those around the victim and the murderer gave in to paroxysms of laughter.

  “Samas is right,” said Kaspar. “Evil is insanity.”

  Suddenly they were back in the pavilion. The two light blue divans appeared and Kaspar sat down heavily. “Why did you show this to me?”

  “Because now you begin to understand why that thing you’ve been hauling around for weeks needs to be got rid of.”

  “Well, if you can’t send it back, can’t you destroy it?”

  Kalkin gave Kaspar a withering look.

  “I know, if you could have, you would have.” Kaspar sat back. “What am I to do?”

  “We gods may not take that thing off this world, but you mortals can.”

  “How?”

  “You must seek out those who’ve put you in your current predicament. You were hardly what one would term an innocent bystander, Kaspar, but you were never the main concern of these people. Your companion, Leso Varen, was. Samas has told you who the magician served, and perhaps even a little of that being’s nature, but what you don’t know is that your enemy, Talwin Hawkins, was also serving others: the Conclave of Shadows.”

  “I’ve never heard of them,” said Kaspar.

  “Of course not. They wouldn’t be much of a secret organization if you had. Even Leso Varen was ignorant of them; he knew someone was opposing them, but not who.”

  “Where do I find them?”

  Kalkin smiled. “That’s a bit of a problem.”

  “You don’t know? I thought you were the god of knowledge.”

  Kalkin laughed. “Me? Hardly. That worthy being was known as Wodan-Hospur before the Chaos Wars. He is one of the four missing gods. We don’t know if he’s dead or just…somewhere else. I merely take care of knowledge until he returns.” With a grin he said, “In your nation you call me Banath!”

  “The god of thieves!”

  Kalkin bowed. “And Trickster and Prankster, and Walker in the Night, among other names. Who better to guard knowledge than a thief?” He stood. “Come now, we must return you. Your time here grows short.”

  “But where do I find the Conclave?”

  “If you knew, and fell into the wrong hands before you found them, you could do much injury. By now others know the Talnoy exists and are no doubt looking for it. Which means they are looking for you as well.”

  “How do I hide something like that?”

  “You don’t,” said Kalkin. “Remember when you killed the wergon, with the Talnoy’s sword.”

  “The what?”

  “That demonlike creature that killed McGoin?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the Talnoy came to retrieve its sword?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just take its sword and it will follow you.”

  “You mean I didn’t have to carry it up the mountain?”

  Kalkin tried not to laugh. He failed. “No,” he said, spluttering. “You didn’t.”

  Exasperated at being the butt of the joke, Kaspar said, “Well then, what do I do, dress it in a robe and call it brother?”

  Kalkin laughed again, then gathered his wits. “No, but take that ring you carry in your purse and slip it on. Put your other hand upon the Talnoy and think of a monk, and it will look like a monk to any but the most powerful of clerics or magicians.”

  “It’s a controlling ring?”

  “Of sorts. The Karana can’t be everywhere and someone’s got to order these things around on the battlefield. It lets subordinates give tactical commands to the Talnoy. Just don’t order it to attack the Karana or you’ll burst into flames.

  “Oh, and remember, the ring will drive you mad if you wear it for more than an hour or two at a time. But any time you need to instruct the creature, slip it on, tell it what you want, and it will do it. Just be sure to take it off as soon as you can. So, keep the instructions simple.”

  “How do I find the Conclave?”

  “This is the tricky part. I can send you in the right direction. The problem with big magic is that the bigger it is, the easier it is for…certain people…to notice. So I can get you to the city of Sulth, or rather just outside it, with your treasure chest and the Talnoy, and from there you can buy a ship. Sail northwest for forty-five days, then cut straight west, and within another two weeks you’ll start seeing familiar waters. Make for your home, and seek out Talwin Hawkins.

  “If you can talk to him before he kills you, or before the new Duke of Roldem has you executed on the spot, Hawkins can get you to the Conclave. Tell them what you have seen and what you know and bid them rid this world of the Talnoy. And press upon them it is urgent.”

  “Why?”

  Kalkin grimaced, and there was no hint of humor left in him. “I failed to mention this, didn’t I? Now that the Talnoy has been removed from the crypt in which it was hidden, and the protective wards around it removed, it’s like a beacon light to the Dasati. Magical gates, or rifts, are starting to form. Little ones, not easily found, and they only stay open for minutes at a time, but the creature that killed McGoin was an inhabitant of Kosridi that blundered into a rift. And that thing represented no threat compared to a fully animated Talnoy. You know how hard it was to kill the wergon with conventional steel.”

  “Nearly impossible.”

  “Everything on Kosridi is hard to kill, and the Talnoy are among the hardest.” Kalkin’s expression became even more somber. “Soon, the rifts will be staying open longer, and they will be larger, and eventually a Dasati magician or cleric will discover it. It takes no imagination to know what will happen next.

  “If their world is unpleasant and dangerous to you, this world is a lush paradise to them, for creatures may easily go from the lower to the higher realms. Remember what Samas told you about the true nature of the Emerald Queen: the demon who displaced her wanted to rule here and could operate outside the rules that bind us gods and you mortals. The Dasati’s Karana would joyously add this world to his empire and delight for years in slaughtering humans for the entertainment of his people at home. Imagine facing an army of Talnoy in the field.”

  “We need magic.”

  “Yes, a lot. Get to Opardum. Find Talwin Hawkins, and have him take you to the leadership of the Conclave. Show them the Talnoy and get it off this world!” He paused, then added, “For if you do not, we shall have a struggle that will make the Riftwar seem trivial.”

  “So why the geas? Why not just…I don’t know. Just have some of your temple priests bring this thing to you?”

  Kalkin shook his head. “It’s not my geas, or that of any other god. And it wasn’t meant to bring it here. But I’ll remove it so you can take that thing away.”

  “Then who did put the geas on it, and where was it supposed to go?” asked Kaspar.

  “That doesn’t matter,” said Kalkin, and he waved his hand.

  Suddenly Kaspar felt a shock run though his body and all was a gray void. He felt the air explode from his lungs, then hung for an instant in nothingness. Then he was on the ground in a stand of trees and next to him was his chest of treasure and the Talnoy.

  Kaspar inhaled deeply and felt cold.

  It was evening, and a few farmers’
carts could be seen on the road from his vantage point. Kaspar, pulled the ring from his purse and slipped it on. He said to the Talnoy, “Look like an ugly manservant.”

  Suddenly the creature was replaced by a hideous-looking man. “Not that ugly,” said Kaspar, and the face of the creature changed so that now the Talnoy looked like a commoner, wearing simple clothing, in service to a wandering mercenary. “Say something,” Kaspar instructed.

  “Something.”

  “Well, you can talk. Call me ‘master.’”

  “Master.”

  “If I give you an order, say ‘yes, master,’ and do it.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Good enough to start. Now, pick up the chest and follow me.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Kaspar made his way out of the trees and onto the road. The ugly servant followed behind, carrying a small chest easily on his shoulder.

  SIXTEEN

  SULTH

  Kaspar drank alone.

  The Talnoy sat motionless in the room above, a small attic over an alehouse that wasn’t usually rented out. He was avoiding taverns and inns until he found a ship, concerned about Kalkin’s warning that others would be looking for the creature.

  For that was how he thought of it now—a creature. He had spent some time over the previous four days experimenting with it, asking it questions, determining its capacity for independent action, and at the last he was convinced of two things: first, that the creature possessed enough faculty for independent thinking and making decisions that it could hardly be thought of as devoid of life; and second, that an army of such creatures would be almost impossible to defeat.

  He also discovered he had found the limit to the time he could wear the ring. He had identified the warning signs, for it was an alien feeling to him: blind fear. He had reached this alehouse with the Talnoy less than an hour after donning the ring and having the Talnoy disguise itself as a servant. By the time he had agreed to a price with the owner of the establishment and reached his room, Kaspar had felt very uneasy. He had wondered why, and left the ring on as an experiment. Sitting on his simple straw mattress, he had waited, leaving the Talnoy standing in the corner. Nearly half an hour after reaching the room, blind panic had started to sweep over him until he was certain something dire was outside the door. He had overcome the urge to draw his sword and attack whoever was outside, and had yanked the ring off his finger. Almost instantly the feelings of dread and fear had dropped away.

  He had experimented and now knew he could wear the ring for no more than an hour and a half, and he could not use it for at least that length of time after removing it. If he put the ring back on after the minimal time had passed, the madness returned quickly. Kaspar had decided once or twice a day was safe, and that more than that was a risk.

  He considered what else he knew about the Talnoy. It was ancient, yet appeared as…fit, for lack of a better word, as those he had seen on Kosridi. There were no signs of age or any lessening of its effectiveness. It was, for all intents and purposes, new.

  Kaspar couldn’t escape the feeling that he now was in over his head. Before, he had felt tasked—plagued even—by the geas that had driven him to take this thing to Kalkin. He also had a list of questions he wished he could have got answers to: Why had the geas been placed on it in the first place? If the geas wasn’t intended as a compulsion to get the item to the gods for the very purpose he was now undertaking, then what had it been intended for? Kalkin had said it wasn’t important to know, but Kaspar could hardly believe that was true. And why did Kalkin seem so troubled by the thought of those things entering Midkemia? Even if he was limited in his ability to leave Midkemia, couldn’t the gods act if the Dasati invaded? Were the gods afraid of the Dasati?

  He sipped his ale while waiting for Karbara, a man who passed for a shipbroker in this sorry excuse for a city. Karbara was supposed to appear shortly with news of a ship which would carry Kaspar home. Kaspar cursed fate for putting him in the middle of this enterprise, for it had felt doomed from the outset, but then he realized that it was his opportunity to return home without forfeiting his life. However, finding a ship was proving to be a problem.

  Sulth was the biggest city on the western coast of Novindus, but that meant hardly anything. The only other city of any size was Port Punt down the coast. Most of the shipping was between the two cities, with a ship bound for one of the southern cities leaving every three or four months. The large ocean-going types of ships common to Olasko and the other Eastern Kingdoms were rare in these waters. And none of the larger ships in port were heading north. He would have to buy his own ship.

  Kaspar turned as the door opened, and Karbara entered. He was a slightly built, anxious man, given to glancing around as if someone was following him. He came to Kaspar’s table and said, “Found a ship.”

  “What is it?”

  “A two-masted coaster with a square-rigged foresail and a jib, lanteen-rigged on the main, but it’s got a deep draft for a coaster, and it’s relatively new. The owner is giving up the sea to stay at home with his wife and children. It’s the best I can do, but it’s a bargain.”

  “How much?”

  “Three hundred golden coins or the equivalent.”

  Kaspar considered. That was cheap by Olaskon standards, but everything down here was cheaper. It was more than a year’s earnings for a master carpenter back home, twice that here, so the ship’s captain could buy a handsome little inn or set up some other business with that. “When can I see it?”

  “Tomorrow. They finish offloading cargo before noon, then she sits where she is. The captain is anxious to sell, so he might come down in price.”

  “I’ll be there after dawn,” said Kaspar, finishing up his ale.

  “I’ll meet you there,” said Karbara, getting up. “And you’ll have my price?”

  “Ten percent of what I spend on the ship, yes.”

  “Good,” said the thin man, and left.

  Kaspar sat back. Something was wrong with Karbara. He was too nervous about the sale. Yes, for him, it was more than a full month’s earnings, but Kaspar expected he had other sources of income. Kaspar understood betrayal, and he knew that early in the morning, when it was busy yet still gloomy, a lot of things could happen in an alley between here and the docks that might be overlooked by the local constabulary for a while.

  Kaspar decided to get to bed early, and to ponder what he would do in the morning. He finished his ale, nodded goodnight to the owner of the alehouse, and went upstairs.

  The Talnoy stood motionless in the corner of the room. So that no questions would be asked, Kaspar had secured a sleeping mat which he put on the floor. It was probably a needless caution, as the alehouse owner seemed indifferent to anything beyond collecting his rent.

  The first night Kaspar slept in the room, he found it troubling to have the thing standing there. Several times during the night he awoke to find it hadn’t moved. It was odd that while he had carried it from place to place it hadn’t troubled him to sleep near the Talnoy. But now that he knew it was capable of independent action—even if only when Kaspar gave the commands—he found the presence of the device troubling. Still, he was tired, and finally he fell into a troubled sleep.

  He tossed and turned most of the night, plagued by dreams of a vicious, loveless race living in a dark realm.

  Kaspar moved slowly though the pre-dawn murk. An unseasonable fog had rolled in off the Bay of Sulth and noises seemed to come out of nowhere. The city was already awake and moving, with vendors pulling carts, shopkeepers getting ready for the morning’s business, and wives hurrying to the vegetable market.

  Kaspar had no idea where an attack might take place, but he had the sense to use a roundabout course to get to the docks. If anyone was waiting to ambush him along the way, they’d have to be mind readers. He had put on the ring before he left and told the Talnoy to kill anyone attempting to steal the chest. He marked the hour and vowed to return to the alehouse withi
n safe time-limits.

  He had stopped to tell the alehouse owner not to enter his room and made it clear that the “servant” had been instructed to use deadly force if anyone did. The owner of the establishment seemed slightly amused by that: he nodded and said he might send his brother-in-law to clean the room, though.

  Kaspar found no one waiting for him along the path he had chosen, but then he knew that if Karbara was remotely clever, the ambush would be close to the docks, for there were less people likely to notice an altercation there, and fewer who might investigate if they did. He reached the docks at the western end, far from the designated meeting place. He moved in the gloom as the sky began to lighten. It would remain dark until the sun burned off the mist—not for another two hours or more.

  Kaspar reached a point where he could see the outline of the ship at rest, a darker shape in the murk, delineated by fore and aft lanterns. From what little he could see, she might do.

  He lingered for a few minutes, conscious of the ring on his finger, even though he felt none of the discomfort that marked his nearing the safe time-limit. As the sky lightened, he could make out the figure of Karbara pacing near the ship. Kaspar leaned into a doorway, content to wait until dawn to see what happened next.

  For half an hour the sky lightened and Karbara paced. Dockworkers approached the ship and shouted to the sailors and they began to finish offloading the cargo they had started on the previous afternoon. Wagons and porters, hawkers, and thieves began to appear as the day broke.

  Finally, Kaspar decided that if there was an ambush planned, it must by now have been aborted, for the docks were becoming too crowded for anything clandestine. Besides, he had left himself only a short while to speak to the captain and return to the inn.

  Kaspar strolled up and said, “Good morning.”

  Karbara turned, and then smiled. “I thought you would be coming that way,” he said, nodding in the opposite direction. Shaking his head, he said, “No matter. Good morning. Let’s go aboard.” He motioned to Kaspar to mount the gangplank.