With a satisfying “thunk” the flat of Talon’s blade slapped into the innkeeper’s back, eliciting a grunt of pain, and Kendrick shouted, “Hold!”
Talon turned, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and watched as the innkeeper studied him. “Who taught you that move, boy?’’
“No one, sir. I just . . . thought of it a moment ago.”
The innkeeper reached back and rubbed where Talon had struck him. “Fancy move, and beyond most swordsmen’s imagination, let alone their capacity, yet you pulled it off the first time.’’
Talon didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure if he was being praised or not. He was getting to be almost fluent in Roldemish, but some of the nuances and idioms were still lost on him.
Kendrick handed his practice blade to Talon and said, “We’re done for today. Put these away and see what Leo has for you do to in the kitchen.’’
Talon wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic, took the weapon, and hurried off toward the kitchen. When he was out of hearing, Magnus said, “Well, what do you think?’’
“He’s a cat, that one,” said Kendrick. “I would have wagered a bag of gold he couldn’t touch me for at least two more lessons. At first I could whack him at will. Then he started anticipating my blows. Defense first, instinctually, knowing that survival comes before victory. He’s a smart one, too, as well as fast.’’
“How good can he be?’’
Kendrick shrugged. “If you want a battle-butcher, I can have him ready to storm a wall in a month. If you want a swordsman, he’ll need better masters than I.’’
“And where would I find such?’’
“Give him to me for the year, then he’ll be ready for the Masters’ Court in Roldem. One or two years there and he’ll be one of the finest swordsmen I’ve ever seen.’’
“That good?’’
Kendrick nodded. “More. He may be the best if something doesn’t ruin him along the way.’’
Magus held his iron-shod staff and leaned against it, staring at where Talon had last been visible, as if maintaining the image of the fatigued youth, dripping with his own perspiration, his hair lank and plastered to his head, hurrying to the kitchen. “What sort of something?”
“Drink. Drugs. Gambling. Women. The usual.’’
Kendrick looked at Magnus. “Or whatever plots and intrigues your father has lying in wait for him.’’
Magnus nodded. “Father’s left the boy’s fate up to Robert. Talon is not part of our plans . . . yet, but Father heard Robert’s report on him and counts him a fortuitous opportunity.”
“Fortuitous for whom?” asked Kendrick. “Come, I need to bathe. That lad worked me more than I expected.”
Magnus said, “Had Robert and Pasko not found him, Talon would be dead with the rest of his tribe. It’s Robert’s judgment that every minute from that moment on is borrowed time. The boy’s got a second chance.’’
“Ah, but who is going to use that chance?” asked Kendrick. “That’s the question, isn’t it?’’
Magnus said, “We’re all used, in one fashion or another. Do you think for a moment my life could be any different?”
“No, you were fated by nothing more basic than who your parents were. Your brother, however, had choices.’’
“Not that many, really,” said Magnus. “Caleb had no gift for magic, but he could have been something more than a soldier.’’
Kendrick said, “Your brother is more than a soldier. Elven-trained as a hunter, master of more languages than I know of, and as skilled a student of men as lives. I wish I’d had him with me back when we put down the rebellion in Bardac’s Holdfast; trying to get information out of the prisoners at Traitor’s Cove was no spring fair, I can tell you. Caleb can tell when a man is lying just by looking at him.” Kendrick shook his head, “No, there is nothing about any member of your family that I’d count as begging. And I think it’s much the same with the boy. I think he could be many things.” He slapped Magnus lightly upon the shoulder. “Just don’t ruin him by trying to make him too many things, my friend.’’
Magnus said nothing. He stopped to let Kendrick move ahead of him, then turned and looked into the sky as if trying to read something in the air. He listened to the sound of the woodlands, then cast his senses outward. Everything was as it should be. He turned and looked back. What had briefly troubled him? Perhaps it was Kendrick’s warning about the boy. Still, a blade was not forged until the metal was heated, and if an impurity existed in the steel, that was when you found it, in the crucible. And every blade would be needed for the war to come if his father’s plan wasn’t successful.