The man fell backward, knocking over a table. People nearby scattered, for no one wanted to deal with the obviously enraged young man standing over the moaning form which had just slammed into the table.
He was a broad-shouldered youth, in his early twenties by his appearance, clean-shaven and clear-eyed. His hair was long, tied back and pushed under a black cloth, knotted at the back like those worn by Quegan pirates. He was clearly no pirate, for his boots were a horseman’s, and his sword was a fine long blade, not a heavy cutlass, but he looked as fearsome as any buccaneer boarding a ship: his anger was obvious for anyone to see.
He looked down at the fallen man, who rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, “Where’s Raven?’’
The man tried to move as if to stand, and Tal kicked his hand away, causing him to fall backward. “Where’s Raven?” he repeated.
Tal had stayed in Roldem until the Midwinter Festival, then he had traveled to Kendrick’s. He had stayed there and relived some of the pleasures he had known before, mostly spending time in the kitchen with Leo concocting new delights. Leo was impressed with the progress the young Talon had made in matters of dining and wine, but he still treated him as if he were an ignorant child in the kitchen.
Except for Leo and his wife, Gibbs and Kendrick, the inn was populated by people unknown to Tal. Meggie was gone, no one knew where, and Gibbs had been surprised when Tal told him Lela was in Krondor. Tal was saddened to hear that Lars had died in a lake, drowned after falling through the ice, earlier that winter.
After this, Tal had come to Latagore, and had found the place much the same as when he and Caleb had visited years before, despite the installation of a new Dominar who was one of Kaspar’s lackeys. There seemed to be more city guards, but otherwise people went about their business and the sun shone, and nothing indicated dark forces were in play.
Tal had asked around discreetly for information on the coming conflicts. There was already fighting in the High Reaches, for Olasko had made his move there; but the mercenary bands who normally flocked to such conflicts were conspicuously absent.
The man on the floor was named Zemos, and he had been willing to talk to Tal for a price, assuming that he was a mercenary looking for employment. Zemos was, according to several barkeepers, a broker of sorts who could find a man a billet with a mercenary band for the right price. But as soon as Raven’s name had come up, Zemos had appeared to forget everything he had ever known about the mercenary trade.
Tal had decided to stimulate his memory.
“Still assaulting people, I see,” said a voice from the end of the bar.
Tal glanced over and saw a face which looked vaguely familiar to him, and it took a moment for him to recognize it. “John Creed,” he said with a nod at last. “Only when they suddenly forget information I’ve paid for.’’
Zemos said, “I’ll give you back your gold. I thought you were just looking for a billet.’’
Creed came to stand beside Tal. “Forgive me, but I can’t say as I recall the name.’’
“Tal Hawkins.’’
For an instant, there was a flicker of recognition, then he nodded. “You’re getting nowhere fast with this fool.” He gave Zemos a nudge with his boot, and said, “Get up, man.’’
When Zemos was upright, Creed said, “Give the lad back his gold, and don’t make promises you can’t keep.’’
The gold was returned, and Zemos hurried from the inn, nursing his split lip. Creed looked around the room. “Why don’t we go for a walk and find a better inn?” Tal nodded and followed him outside. “What happened to that fellow you were traveling with, the one who crippled you to prevent me from killing you?” Creed asked, grinning.
“Why?”
“Because I should thank him. I didn’t make the connection until just now, but you’re the lad who won at the Masters’ Court last summer ago, aren’t you?’’
Tal nodded. “I didn’t realize that sort of news traveled this far.’’
“Oh, it does, my young champion,” Creed said. “So I think maybe your friend deserves my thanks, because if you’re that good, you might have done a fair job of carving me up.’’
Tal grinned. “I had a lot of practice between our first meeting and winning that contest. You probably would have skewered me in the first minute.’’
“Would have tried, anyway, and that would have been a shame. Anyway, what are you doing looking for that swine Raven?’’
“We have business,” said Tal.
“The killing kind, no doubt.’’
“Yes.”
They walked down the street, and Creed said, “Rumor is, he’s got a camp outside of Coastal Watch and is getting ready to move north in a few weeks.’’