Flight of the Nighthawks (12 page)

“No,” said Pug. “I think we leave him in place. If these are bandits alone, then no harm has been done. If those who attacked Caleb are Varen's agents, let them believe they gulled us into thinking the attack was by mere bandits. If McGrudder comes under scrutiny, it should not be hard to discern in so small a place; we can always dispatch a watcher to watch the watchers.”

Nakor nodded with a grin. This was the sort of underhanded plotting that appealed to him.

“There is another matter,” said Pug.

“What is it?”

“I received a message yesterday and I am greatly concerned about it. Will you give me your thoughts?”

“Always.”

Pug produced a scroll from inside the folds of his robe and Nakor glanced at it.

Pug said. “It's not the first. They have been appearing on my desk from time to time for years now.”

“How long?”

“Since before we met. The first one gave me the instruction to tell Jimmy to say to you—”

“There is no magic,” finished Nakor. “I know. When I heard that, and from a magician no less, I knew I had to come to Stardock.” He looked at the scroll again. “Where are they coming from?”

“Not where, but when. These are from our future.”

Nakor nodded, then his eyes widened as he read it again. “This is…from you!” he said, and for the first time since Pug had met him, the small Isalani was speechless.

 

Tad lay on the bed with his arm behind his head as Zane paced the floor. “You're going to wear a groove in the stone if you keep that up,” he said.

“I can't help it. Someone brings us our food this morning, and we're told to wait. Then lunch. Then someone comes to fetch the chamber pot and bring us a clean one, and now it's almost suppertime and still no one has come to tell us what we're doing here.”

“It's obvious what we're doing here,” said Tad. “We're waiting. What we don't know is what we're waiting for.”

Zane's expression darkened, and Tad sat up on the bed. He knew that look. Zane was a thin excuse away from taking out his bad mood on his foster brother.

Just as Tad sat up, anticipating Zane's preemptive attack, Nakor appeared at the door and said, “You two, come with me.”

He left so abruptly that Tad almost unbalanced himself trying to hurry after him. He caught up with Zane and the Isalani halfway down the hall and thought it odd how fast the little man walked.

“Don't stare,” Nakor said.

A moment later, Tad hit a doorjamb. He had just walked past a large open door that led into a courtyard dominated by a huge pool. At the edge of the pool and in the water was a group of young women. Tad's attention was diverted in equal measure by the fact all the girls were remarkably beautiful, completely naked, and their skin was a pale green and their hair the color of bronze wire.

Tad suffered another injury as he stepped backward only to be knocked down as Zane turned around and came flying back to the doorway to verify if he had indeed witnessed the same scene.

The girls turned to stare at them and both boys realized that they had no irises and their eyes were pearl-white in color.

Nakor helped Tad to his feet with one hand, and waved to the girls with the other. “I told you not to stare,” he said, as Tad touched his nose to see if it was bleeding. “Come along.”

Tad said, “Ah…”

Nakor said, “They are six sisters of the Pithirendar. They don't care for clothing much and they spend a great deal of time in water. They are not entirely human. Though they are human enough to get you boys into trouble, so stay away from them or I'll give you even more to think about.”

“Not human…” Zane muttered, trying to convince himself that his eyes hadn't betrayed him. Tad reached out and half dragged him away from the door as they both followed Nakor.

They turned a corner and Nakor motioned them to stand to one side. A thing—for lack of a better word—came lumbering down the corridor toward them. It was half the height of the boys and twice as wide. It looked like a table with a black cloth hanging over it and it moved on legs that resembled a crab's. It also made an odd murmuring sound as it approached.

As it passed, Nakor said, “Good morning,” and the thing answered in a surprisingly normal-sounding female voice.

After she had moved around the corner, Tad whispered, “What was that?”

“A visitor,” Nakor replied. He led them to a room where Pug sat waiting behind a desk.

The short magician rose and motioned for them to sit in a pair of chairs that were opposite his own.

They did so and Pug returned to his seat. Nakor stood by a window to Pug's left. Looking at the two young men, Pug said, “We're at something of a loss about what to do with you.”

Tad's face drained of color and Zane flushed. He said, “What do you mean, ‘do with you,' sir?”

Pug smiled. “No harm will come to you, if that's what concerns you.” He sat back and regarded the pair. “You may have already concluded that this community is unlike any others.”

Zane just nodded, while Tad said, “Yes, sir.”

Nakor laughed. “You seem to be handling it well.”

Zane shrugged. “I'm not exactly sure what to think, but Caleb has always been good to our mother and to Tad and me, so if you're his family, then I suppose…well, I think we're safe here.”

Pug sat back. “I don't pry in the lives of my children, but tell me something about your mother.”

Tad spoke up as Marie was his real mother, though she treated Zane as his equal. He started off with the usual praise—that she was a good cook and kept the poor hut that served as home as clean as could be—but after a moment it was clear to everyone that the boy not only loved his mother, but respected her, too. “It was hard after Papa died.” He glanced at Zane. “But she took Zane in because he was my best friend and had no one else, when others in town looked the other way. She made do, and kept us both out of trouble.”

Zane added, “I've known her longer than I knew my real ma, so I suppose that makes her my real ma, if you understand, sir. She never took sides with Tad against me and she held me when I was a little boy. She loved me like I was her own.”

Pug sighed. “Even without meeting her, I can understand why my son cares for your mother, boys, and I can see why he cares about you. You acted bravely going back to the wagon.”

Nakor said, “Foolishly, from what you told me. Didn't Caleb tell you to make your way to the village if you eluded the bandits?”

“Yes,” said Tad. “That's true, but we had killed two of them already, and thought maybe Caleb could use some help. We had gained two swords by then.”

Pug shook his head. “And I for one am glad you disobeyed, and admire your resolve, for had you not done so, I'd have lost my youngest child.” His eyes grew unfocused for a minute as he looked away, seeing something in the distance, and he said, “It's something I dread more than you can ever imagine.” He then turned to face the boys again and asked, “So, then, what shall we do with you?”

“Caleb was taking us to Kesh to become apprentices, or on to Krondor, for there's no work at home,” said Zane. “If you need any apprentices, we're willing.”

“Are you willing, Tad?” asked Pug.

“Yes, sir,” he said, nodding his head.

“I do have need for apprentices,” said Pug. “But first we shall see if you're up to such a calling.”

Pug stood and so the boys did as well. He pointed to his friend and said, “Nakor shall see to your instruction for a few days while my son heals, then I have other work for him, and then we shall have others test you. Now, I have work to do, so be off with you.”

They left, and Tad grinned at his friend. Their fears were now replaced with hope, for they had taken seriously Nakor's intimation that they might be killed for what they knew.

As they walked down the hallway, Tad asked, “Nakor, what trade are we going to apprentice to?”

“That remains to be seen, my young friend,” said Nakor. “I'm not sure we have a name for what you might do. Let's say that you'll be apprentice workers.”

“What sort of work?” asked Zane.

“All manner and type. Things you cannot even imagine. For if you are to become workers for the Conclave of Shadows, it is more than just a trade.” With a suddenly serious expression he said, “It's a lifelong commitment.”

Both boys were unsure what that meant, but Nakor's expression told them they were not going to be happy about finding out.

Z
ane's face was flushed with anger.

“I won't do it!” he said, defiance reverberating in his voice.

Tad said, “You have to. If you don't, you'll get into more trouble than you can imagine.”

“It's stupid,” Zane insisted. “If I haven't learned by now, I never will.”

“You've lived on the shore of a lake for your entire life and you've never learned to swim,” said Tad, his voice rising in frustration. “That's stupid!” he shouted. “Now, Nakor says you have to learn how to swim.”

The boys were standing near a tree at the edge of the courtyard lake. Other students were splashing in the shallows, and a few were swimming in the deeper water. Tad had always been a decent swimmer, but Zane had never
learned. It took this recalcitrance to remind Tad that he had never seen his foster brother swim.

Just then the six sisters of the Pithirendar came over the hill, speaking softly in their alien language. Both boys had become accustomed to the strange nature of many of those residing on what they now knew to be Sorcerer's Isle. While the inhabitants included a number of very strange aliens, the majority were human, including a few human girls with whom the boys had become friendly. But for some reason the six sisters caused a reaction in most of the young males on the island, Tad and Zane being no exception.

Four of the girls were nude—as was their preference—while the other two wore simple white shifts, which they discarded when they reached the shore. The six of them slipped effortlessly into the water, as Tad said, “All right, then. Stay here if you want, but I'm going swimming!”

Zane was on his feet saying, “Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time to learn.” He hurried after his foster brother and splashed into the water.

Nakor and Caleb watched them from a short distance away. Caleb asked, “How are they doing?”

Nakor shrugged. “They're good lads, but if it hadn't been for your unfortunate accident with the bandits, they never would have come here. They possess no special abilities, gifts, or talents that we can see.”

“Except they are good lads,” said Caleb.

“We have good lads in abundance,” said Nakor. “What we need are some ruthless bastards who will happily cut the heart out of their own mothers if need be.” He started walking away from the lakeshore as the boys splashed and were splashed in return by the Pithirendari girls. Caleb fell into step beside him. They began the long trek from the lakeshore to the villa.

Caleb's wounds had almost healed completely and he was now moving around with only a minimum of discomfort. “You know, if my father wasn't who he is, I would also be merely a ‘good lad.'”

“You have a great deal of special ability,” said Nakor.

“Such as?”

“You're a remarkable hunter, have uncommon tracking and woodcraft abilities, close to those of the elves.”

“As would any youngster with a little talent who had been sent to live with the elves, Nakor.” He looked around the island and said, “Do you see many skilled hunters here?”

Nakor remained silent.

“We both know that one of the reasons I was sent to stay with Tomas in Elvandar was my unhappiness here. Father thought a change would do me good, and he was right. There's a difference between being the only human boy among elves and being treated with respect, to being the only youngster without magical abilities among magic users and being treated with contempt.”

“Contempt is too harsh a word, Caleb.”

Caleb looked at Nakor. “You weren't always there, nor was Father. Mother saw, and she tried to shield me, as did Magnus, but children can be cruel, Nakor. You want your heartless bastards, get them when they are children and don't let them learn compassion.”

“You sound bitter,” said Nakor as they approached the cookhouse.

“Do I?” Caleb shrugged. “I don't feel bitter, but I guess some wounds, even childish wounds, never heal. They just grow faint.”

“What is truly troubling you, Caleb?”

They passed the cookhouse and continued on to the main building of Villa Beata. “I feel useless, and in the wrong place.” Caleb stopped as they reached the open doorway into the connecting hall. “I'm a messenger for the most part, carrying missives that aren't important enough for Magnus or yourself or any magic user to transport.

“I know that I can blend in where Magnus can't, but other than that, what use am I?”

Nakor began to say something, but Caleb held up his hand. His brown eyes were set in a serious expression and his voice held a tinge of anger. “Do you think if Tal Hawkins or Kaspar of Olasko had been in that wagon they'd have borne a scratch after dispatching those bandits?”

Nakor remained silent.

“I'm an adequate swordsman, Nakor. Better than average, but
not remarkable. I am a good hunter—perhaps even a great one—but how useful is that in dealing with our enemies? So, I can scout. So can a lot of other men.

“My point is, there is nothing special for me to do, nothing that lets me pull my own weight.”

Nakor shook his head and put his hand on Caleb's shoulder “My young friend, how wrong you are. The day will come when you will understand your true potential, Caleb, and finally realize just how special you are. Until then, if you want to feel sorry for yourself, feel free. I just don't have time to stand around and listen.” With that, he turned and walked off.

Caleb stood for a minute locked in inner conflict. Then, he started to chuckle, and that became a full-blown laugh. Talking to Nakor always lifted his dark moods. Caleb decided to return to his quarters to rest and give some thought to what he was going to do with Tad and Zane.

 

Zane lay on the shore, coughing and trying hard not to look ridiculous. Tad helped him to sit up and said, “If you're going to wade out over your head, you should at least learn how to paddle.”

Zane spat water and coughed some more. Then he said, “I got distracted.”

“He is all right?” asked one of the sisters from behind Tad. The six of them were gathered as were other students, all looking on with a mixture of concern and amusement.

“He'll live,” said Tad, pulling his friend to his feet. The sisters whispered and giggled, then fled back to the water. “What were you trying to do?” asked Tad.

Zane spoke while his eyes followed the retreating backs of the sisters. “One of them…Zadrina, I think, pulled me out and kissed me.”

“I can't tell them apart,” said Tad. “And they'll all kiss you if you let them.”

“But this was a kiss! She really kissed me.”

“And then you opened your eyes and discovered you were underwater?”

Nodding his head, Zane echoed, “I opened my eyes and discovered I was underwater.”

“Which is when the drowning started.”

“Which is when the drowning started,” agreed Zane.

“I am going to have to teach you to swim.”

“Soon,” said Zane, watching the girls splashing with some of the other boys. “But not today. I drank enough of the lake so I may never be thirsty again.”

“Well, let's head back.” Tad looked in the direction of the villa. “Caleb and Nakor were talking just before we went swimming. I wonder if they've decided what to do with us?”

“Well,” said Zane. “Whatever they decide I hope they wait until tomorrow, because I'm supposed to meet Zadrina after evening meal in the pool garden.”

Slapping his foster brother on the shoulder, he said, “Just don't drown yourself.”

“I won't.” As they walked toward the villa, Zane said, “Do you know they come from a world that's mostly water? That's why they're in it most of the day.”

“I'm still having trouble imagining another world,” conceded Tad.

“Worlds,” said Zane. “I would too, but everyone here takes it as a matter of course, so I'm getting used to the idea.” He looked around as they walked. “When we were boys, it was easy to think of Kesh and the Kingdom, because people from both nations passed through the town all the time, but other nations were hard for me to imagine. This is like that, I think, only more so.” He glanced at Tad. “If that makes sense?”

Tad nodded that he understood.

They hadn't quite reached the main building when a slender man wearing a pair of tights and a billowing shirt appeared from out of a doorway and said, “Ah! There you are. You are the two boys from Stardock?” He didn't wait for an answer but motioned them to follow. He moved like a dancer or acrobat, fluidly and with an economy of motion, and on his feet were ankle-high boots of odd design, cross-gartered at the top and tied above the anklebone, but with soft
soles of what looked to be doubly reinforced leather. His hair was the palest blond, and flowed to his shoulders.

They went to the side of the village opposite the small lake, and he looked over his shoulder, once, regarded them for a moment with pale blue eyes, then said, “Don't fall behind.”

The boys found themselves climbing a path up a ridge, and by the time they reached the crest, they were almost breathless. The man who led them didn't pause, simply saying, “No time to rest now, boys.”

Tad and Zane as one took a deep breath and followed after, heading down a steep path that led to the seashore. Off to the left they could see a black edifice rising off a promontory. “What's that?” wondered Zane.

“The castle of the Black Sorcerer,” answered the man.

“Who's the Black Sorcerer?” asked Tad.

The man looked over his shoulder, grinning. His face looked young, perhaps only a few years older than the boys, but his blond hair was shot through with grey. “Pug's the Black Sorcerer when he's here. If he's not, then sometimes Nakor, or Magnus, or Miranda, or someone else. It's whoever's handy.”

Tad said, “I don't understand,” and he stopped to catch his breath. “Can you wait a minute?”

The man stopped and said, “Winded? At your age?”

Zane also stopped. “That was a long climb.”

“That was nothing,” said the man. “Wait until I get done with you; you'll be running up and down those paths without thought.”

“The Black Sorcerer,” said Tad between breaths, pointing at the castle.

“Well, you boys know about the Black Sorcerer, of course—”

“No,” interrupted Zane. “We don't. That's why we're asking.”

“I thought everyone on the Bitter Sea knew about the Black Sorcerer,” said the man.

“We're not from the Bitter Sea,” said Tad. “We're from Stardock.”

“Ah,” said the man, nodding as if he understood. “Stardock.” He turned. “Come along; rest is over.”

The boys took deep breaths and hurried after the rapidly walking man. “There used to be a man who lived up there,” he said, “by the name of Macros. He started the legend of the Black Sorcerer so people would leave him alone. He left this island to Pug, who continues the legend, so that ships are not likely to put in here. It keeps things relatively quiet.”

As they headed down toward the beach, they came to a path leading from the castle that intercepted their own. “If you go that way,” said the man, “you'll go straight to the castle. It's empty. It's a pretty drab and uninviting place, though we brighten up the windows with some interesting lights if we think someone's spying on us.” He looked back, grinning. “Good show.” Turning his attention downhill, he said, “Now, here's what I want you two to do,” as they reached the sand. He pointed to a distant point on the beach where large rocks hid the curving shoreline. “Run that way, very fast. Go to that rock. Then run back here.”

Tad could barely stand. “Who are you?”

The man put his hands on his hips. “Tilenbrook, Farsez Tilenbrook. I am to be your tutor in all things physical for a while. You two have grown lazy and are unfit for the rigors you may face as Caleb's apprentices.”

The boys exchanged glances. “We're to be his apprentices?” asked Zane.

“Perhaps you are. Now run!”

The boys set off at a slow run, still fatigued by the hike over the ridge. Farsez stood patently waiting as they half ran, half stumbled down to the distant rock, then turned and started running back. When they reached his position, both boys fell to their knees on the sand, Zane then half rolling, falling onto his back, as they panted for breath. “My,” said Tilenbrook, “you two are in the most deplorable condition for boys. Comes from lazing about all day with nothing to do, I wager.

“Now, get up!”

The boys staggered to their feet. “A quick march back to the villa!”

He set off at a brisk pace, not looking backward, and the boys groaned as they moved after.

 

Nearly an hour later two very tired boys, drenched with perspiration, stumbled down the hill to the village, where sat Tilenbrook waiting on the low stone garden wall, a large mug of something in his hand. He sipped at it as they came to stand before him. He glanced at the angle of the sun and said, “Very well. We are done for today. We shall do this again tomorrow, and every day after until I think you've achieved a speed to and from the rock that I deem appropriate.”

Tad and Zane looked at one another, then Zane closed his eyes as he leaned forward, hands above his knees. Tad tried to ease his aching body by just walking in circles.

As Tilenbrook dismounted the wall, he said, “I will see you two as soon as you've finished your morning meal, right here.” He then left without another word.

Zane looked over at Tad and said, “I think I'll just kill myself now.”

Tad nodded and started slowly walking back toward their room. When they reached their room, Tad made a show of sniffing and said, “If you're meeting one of the sisters after the meal, I suggest you bathe.”

Zane groaned. “I forgot.” He stood while Tad threw himself across his bed. “Let's go to the lake, now.”