The Complete Conclave of Shadows Trilogy: Talon of the Silver Hawk, King of Foxes, Exile’s Return

‘She broke your heart?’

Talon said nothing but tears gathered in his eyes. He nodded again.

‘Good,’ said Magnus, striking him on the knee with his staff.

‘Ow!’ Talon exclaimed, rubbing at the knee.

Magnus stood up and rapped the boy lightly on the side of the head, hard enough to make Talon’s ears ring and his eyes water even more. Stepping away, Magnus shouted, ‘Defend yourself!’

This time he unleashed a vicious swipe at the other side of Talon’s head, and the young man barely avoided being brained. He fell to his knees and rolled away, gaining a moment as Magnus had to come around the foot of the bed to reach him. When he did, he found Talon standing beside the table, his sword drawn and ready. ‘Master Magnus!’ he shouted. ‘What is this?’

Magnus didn’t answer, but instead feigned a jab with the foot of the staff towards Talon’s head, then swept the rod around in an overhead arc. Talon caught the staff on the forte of his blade with just enough angle to force it past his shoulders, but not enough force to break the sword. Then he stepped inside and grabbed his teacher by the front of his robe, yanking him off-balance. Placing his sword at Magnus’s throat, he said, ‘Am I supposed to kill you now?’

‘No,’ said Magnus with a grin. He gripped Talon’s sword hand and Talon felt his fingers go numb. As the sword fell from his unresponsive grasp, Talon heard Magnus say, ‘That was very good.’

Talon stepped back, rubbing his hand. ‘What is all this?’

‘If your enemy comes upon you unexpectedly, do you think he’s going to stop and say, “Oh, poor Talon. He’s upset over his lost love. I think I will wait for another day to kill him”?’

Talon kept rubbing his sore fingers. ‘No.’

‘Precisely.’ He motioned for Talon to sit on the bed once more. ‘Our enemies will attack you in ways you have not even imagined, Talon. Caleb and others can teach you weapons and hone your natural talents. I can show you things about your mind and make it more difficult for your enemies to confuse you or beguile you. But the heart …’ He tapped his own chest. ‘That is where many men are the most vulnerable.’

‘So this was a lesson?’

‘Yes,’ said Magnus, with a grim expression. ‘As harsh a lesson as I’ve ever seen, but necessary.’

‘She didn’t love me?’

‘Never,’ said Magnus coldly. ‘She is our creature, Talon, and we use her, just as we will use you and every other student here.

‘Once this was a place for learning, education for its own sake. My father founded the Academy of Magicians down at Stardock. Did you know that?’

‘No.’

‘When politics overtook the Academy, he started another place of learning here, for students of special gifts. I was raised here.

‘But when the Serpentwar raged, and Krondor was destroyed, my father realized that our enemies were relentless and could never be counted on to give us respite. So, this school became a place of training. Some students from other worlds attend, but there are fewer of them each year; father brings in some teachers from other realms, as well, but mostly he, Mother, Nakor, myself, and others – like Robert – teach.’

‘I’ve not asked, for I assume I’ll be told in time, but who is this enemy?’

‘It is very hard to tell someone as young as you. I’ll leave it for Father and Nakor to tell you when you’re ready to understand.

‘But you will be tried by the enemy’s agents, and as you saw on the night the death-dancers came for me, they can strike in the most unexpected fashion in places you think quite safe.’

‘So I must …?’

‘Learn, be wary and trust only a few people.’ He paused, considering what to say next. ‘If I were to tell Rondar or Demetrius to kill you, they would. They would assume my reasons were valid and that you were a threat to us here. If I were to tell Alysandra to kill you, she would. The difference is that Rondar and Demetrius would feel remorse. Alysandra would feel nothing.’

‘You made her this way?’ said Talon, his anger rising and his sense of order outraged.

‘No,’ Magnus answered. ‘We found her that way. Alysandra is … flawed. Tragically and terribly. She doesn’t think about people as you and I might. She thinks of them as we might a stick of wood or a …’ he pointed to a chair ‘… a piece of furniture. Useful, to be cared for, perhaps, so it can continue to be useful, but with no intrinsic value beyond its use to her.

‘We found this terribly damaged person and brought her here. Nakor can tell you about that; I know only that one day this lovely young girl was among us and Nakor was explaining what we needed to do with her.’

‘But why? Why bring her here?’

‘To train her to work for us. To use that remorseless nature to our own ends. Otherwise she might have ended up on the gallows in Krondor. At least this way we can channel her and control who gets hurt.’

Talon sat silently, staring out of the open door. ‘But it felt so …’

‘Real?’

‘Yes. I thought she was falling in love with me.’

‘One of her talents is to be what she needs to be, Talon. It was a cruel lesson, but necessary. And I can’t stress this enough: she would have cut your throat while you slept had Nakor ordered it. And then she would have got dressed, and whistled a happy tune as she walked back to the estate afterwards.’

‘Why do this to me?’

‘So that you can look hard inside yourself and understand how weak the human heart can be. So that you can steel yourself against anything of this sort ever happening again.’

‘Does this mean I can never love another?’

Now it was Magnus’s turn to fall silent, and he also stared out of the door for a moment. Then he said, ‘Perhaps not. But certainly not with some young woman who simply happens to command your attention because of a shapely leg and a winning smile, and because she’s in your bed. You can bed women who are willing to your heart’s content, time and circumstances allowing. Just don’t think you’re in love with them, Talon.’

‘I know so little.’

‘Then you’ve taken the first step toward wisdom,’ Magnus said, standing up. He moved to the door. ‘Think about this for a while: remember the quiet times when your father and mother were caring for you and your family. That’s love. Not the passion of the moment in the arms of a willing woman.’

Talon leaned back against the wall. ‘I have much to think about.’

‘Tomorrow we return to your training. Eat something and sleep, for we have a lot to do.’

Magnus left and Talon lay back on the bed, his arm behind his head. Staring at the ceiling, he thought about what the magician had said. It was as if Magnus had thrown icy water over him. He felt cold and discomforted. The image of Alysandra’s face hung in the air above him, yet it was now a mocking, cruel visage. And he wondered if he could ever look at a woman again in the same way.

Talon spent a restless night, even though he was as tired as he could remember. It was even more profound a fatigue than those occasions when he had recovered from his wounds after almost dying. It was a weariness of the soul, a lethargy that came from a wounded heart.

Yet there was a fey energy within; a strange flashing of images, memories and imagination; phantasms and fantasies. He rejected Magnus’s judgment of Alysandra. Talon knew he could not have imagined his feelings, but at the same time he knew he had. He was angry and his pain sought an outlet, yet there was no place to focus it. He blamed his teachers, yet he knew they had taught him a vital lesson that might some day save his life. He raged at Alysandra, yet from what Magnus had told him, she could no more be blamed for her nature than a viper could be blamed for being venomous.

The dawn rose and the sky turned rose and golden, a crisp and clear autumn morning. A knock roused Talon from his dark introspection and he opened the door.

Caleb stood there before him. ‘Let’s go hunting,’ he said.

Talon nodded, not even wondering how Caleb had so suddenly appeared on the island. Magic was a foregone conclusion on Sorcerer’s Isle.

Talon fetched his bow from inside the wardrobe, where he had lodged it in the corner and forgotten it. He had spent hours dressing and undressing in the fine robes there when he and Alysandra had spent the summer contriving games. He had thought them games of love, but now he thought of them as exercises in lust.

He held the bow, and it was solid and real in his grip and he knew that he had lost something in his days with the girl. He pulled out a quiver of arrows then turned to the older man. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.