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The Complete Conclave of Shadows Trilogy: Talon of the Silver Hawk, King of Foxes, Exile’s Return
Raymond E. Feist
Return to a world of magic and adventure from best selling author Raymond E. Feist. This bundle includes the complete Conclave of Shadows.The bundle includes: Talon of the Silver Hawk (1), King of Foxes (2), Exile’s Return(3).Evil has come to a distant land high among the snow-capped mountains of Midkemia.Among the Orosini tribe, every boy must undergo the traditional manhood ritual in order to understand his place in the universe and discover his manhood name. Kielianapuna must survive on the remote mountain peak of Shatana Higo until the gods grant him his vision. But Kieli has already waited for four days and nights, and now he is cold, lonely, despairing, and very, very tired…When he is woken by the terrifying sensation of sharp claws piercing his skin and finds a rare silver hawk upon his arm, it is such a disorientating moment that he is not sure whether it has even happened, or whether it was a vision.Returning to his home, nameless and still a child, Kieli stumbles upon devastation. His village is being burned, his people slaughtered. Although it means certain death, Kieli throws himself into the battle…Against all the odds, he survives, alone of all the Orosini, who have been cut down where they stand: every last man, woman and child.A distant voice echoes in his mind: Rise up and be a talon for your people…The visitation of the bird on Shatana Higo was indeed his naming vision. He is a boy called Kielianapuna no more. Now he is Talon of the Silver Hawk, a man who must avenge the murder of his people, whatever that may take…
RAYMOND E. FEIST
The Conclave of Shadows
Trilogy
Talon of the Silver HawkKing of FoxesExile’s Return
Copyright (#ulink_70921fd2-efe5-5071-b944-12a8afb075b9)
HarperVoyager An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
www.harpervoyagerbooks.com (http://www.harpervoyagerbooks.com)
Talon of the Silver Hawk © Raymond E. Feist 2002
King of Foxes © Raymond E. Feist 2003
Exile’s Return © Raymond E. Feist 2004
Cover Layout Design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
Raymond E. Feist asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication
Ebook Edition © AUGUST 2013 ISBN: 9780007532100
Version: 2018-09-20
Contents
Cover (#ude2016d7-2569-5ac3-a6be-9f603a8ea379)
Title Page (#udc538679-d637-5dbf-bbb6-85d4d46abd71)
Copyright (#u91529776-6aeb-5093-a037-300296396322)
Maps (#u400eb434-10a9-55c6-9bc1-960e8e7a53d8)
Talon of The Silver Hawk (#u3c9fcc4f-b10e-5dd6-bc44-2ddf106ccc52)
King of Foxes (#litres_trial_promo)
Exile’s Return (#litres_trial_promo)
Continue the Adventure … (#litres_trial_promo)
About The Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Maps (#ulink_71bf85ef-a489-55c4-a9bb-e6c10c9168d9)
(#ulink_103925df-d45c-57f2-ad8a-e43a0e53f0b8)
RAYMOND E. FEIST
Talon of The Silver Hawk
Book One of Conclave of Shadows
Copyright (#ulink_83c8225e-1e47-5bab-a900-d4c78bbbb4b4)
HarperVoyager
An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
www.harpervoyagerbooks.com (http://www.harpervoyagerbooks.com)
First published by HarperVoyager 2002
Copyright © Raymond E. Feist 2002
Cover Illustration © Nik Keevil
Raymond E. Feist asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.
Source ISBN: 9780002246811
EBook Edition © AUGUST 2012 ISBN: 9780007373802
Version: 2018-09-20
For Jamie AnnFor teaching me things I didn’t know I needed to learn
Contents
Cover (#u3c9fcc4f-b10e-5dd6-bc44-2ddf106ccc52)
Title Page (#ub1e6e2cc-5223-522a-9fe9-a13ae3563f13)
Copyright (#u0313aa37-6fa3-546a-868d-ff9604e292ea)
Dedication (#u9ca77495-3164-5c78-a73c-7b0d18fb6c40)
Part One: Orphan (#u42835c79-7f1f-54fc-bcbc-e11724ee7cb7)
Chapter One: Passage (#u62599414-0c74-5c50-b5bd-5d14eb11b341)
Chapter Two: Kendrick’s (#u50f0cb33-342c-5972-903c-175093c186c1)
Chapter Three: Servant (#uac391e2b-fcb1-53fa-bf5b-4186de239870)
Chapter Four: Games (#ua911fc1a-7f39-5b17-b63c-017f71c50e3f)
Chapter Five: Journey (#u0773a194-90b8-54e1-ba5c-79b51dcb159c)
Chapter Six: Latagore (#u88c165f0-9a05-531d-8b02-3ef3e7818a6a)
Chapter Seven: Education (#u3e4ca4d9-d114-5d73-a111-e1b81d6c1800)
Chapter Eight: Magic (#u08ee4393-9287-51a5-9dbf-9ed591f45930)
Chapter Nine: Confusion (#u98ce7036-87ae-5ee5-baa6-4606269fab94)
Chapter Ten: Decision (#uf37dca16-cfb0-54c8-aa49-d02d7aacc66c)
Chapter Eleven: Purpose (#u2135da97-0b9b-5329-805a-a7c00edd46c6)
Chapter Twelve: Love (#u1aac2c65-7aa5-5608-ba72-fb1cfd7176c0)
Chapter Thirteen: Recovery (#ub7794911-79ee-5f93-a975-a5a76d17d0af)
Part Two: Mercenary (#ucdc6e416-b771-53a6-847f-f3e106243b89)
Chapter Fourteen: Masters’ Court (#uccf77dc5-892f-5dd1-a8f0-e4306778fe12)
Chapter Fifteen: Mystery (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen: Tournament (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen: Target (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen: Choices (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen: Defence (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty: Battle (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One: Hunt (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue: Scorpion (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo)
• PART ONE • (#ulink_357895f6-0e7c-5bd8-a4ee-5f27a16b8991)
Orphan (#ulink_357895f6-0e7c-5bd8-a4ee-5f27a16b8991)
‘Death stands above me, whispering low I know not what into in my ear …’
Walter Savage Landor
• CHAPTER ONE • (#ulink_f9e2cda5-3f64-5378-85cf-b6ba82744945)
Passage (#ulink_f9e2cda5-3f64-5378-85cf-b6ba82744945)
HE WAITED.
Shivering, the boy huddled close to the dying embers of his meagre fire, his pale blue eyes sunken and dark from lack of sleep. His mouth moved slowly as he repeated the chant he had learned from his father, his dry lips cracking painfully and his throat sore from intoning the holy words. His nearly black hair was matted with dust from sleeping in the dirt; despite his resolve to remain alert while awaiting his vision, exhaustion had overcome him on three occasions. His normally slender frame and high cheekbones were accentuated by his rapid weight loss, rendering him gaunt and pale. He wore only a vision seeker’s loin cloth. After the first night he had sorely missed his leather tunic and trousers, his sturdy boots and his dark green cloak.
Above, the night sky surrendered to a pre-dawn grey and the stars began to fade from view. The very air seemed to pause, as if waiting for a first intake of breath, the first stirring of a new day. The stillness was uncommon, both unnerving and fascinating, and the boy held his breath for a moment in concert with the world around him. Then a tiny gust, the softest breath of night sighing, touched him, and he let his own breathing resume.
As the sky to the east lightened, he reached over and picked up a gourd. He sipped at the water within, savouring it as much as possible, for it was all he was permitted until he experienced his vision and reached the creek which intersected with the trail a mile below as he made his way home.
For two days he had sat below the peak of Shatana Higo, in the place of manhood, waiting for his vision. Prior to that he had fasted, drinking only herb teas and water; then he had eaten the traditional meal of the warrior, dried meat, hard bread and water with bitter herbs, before spending half a day climbing the dusty path up the eastern face of the holy mountain to the tiny depression a dozen yards below the summit. The clearing would scarcely accommodate half a dozen men, but it seemed vast and empty to the boy as he entered the third day of the ceremony. A childhood spent in a large house with many relatives had ill prepared him for such isolation, for this was the first time in his existence he had been without companionship for more than a few hours.
As was customary among the Orosini, the boy had started the manhood ritual on the third day before the Midsummer celebration, which the lowlanders call Banapis. The boy would greet the new year, the end of his life as a child, in contemplating the lore of his family and clan, his tribe and nation, and seeking the wisdom of his ancestors. It was a time of deep introspection and meditation, as the boy sought to understand his place in the order of the universe, the role laid before him by the gods. And on this day he was expected to gain his manhood name. If events went as they should, he would rejoin his family and clan in time for the evening Midsummer festival.
As a child he had been called Kieli, a diminution of Kielianapuna, the red squirrel, the clever and nimble dweller in the forests of home. Never seen, but always present, they were considered lucky when glimpsed by the Orosini. And Kieli was considered to be a lucky child.
The boy shivered almost uncontrollably, for his paltry stores of body-fat hardly insulated him from the night’s chill. Even in the middle of the summer, the peaks of the mountains of the Orosini were cold after the sun fled.
Kieli waited for the vision. He saw the sky lighten, a slow, progressive shift from grey to pale grey-blue, then to a rose hue as the sun approached. He saw the brilliance of the sun crest the distant mountain, a whitish-golden orb that brought him another day of loneliness. He averted his eyes when the disc of the sun cleared the mountains, lest his sight flee from him. The trembling in his body lessened as the sun finally rose sufficiently to begin to relieve the chill. He waited, at first expectantly, then with a deep fatigue-generated hopelessness.
Each Orosini boy endured this ritual upon the midsummer day close to the time of his birth anniversary in one of the many such holy places scattered throughout the region. For years beyond numbering boys had climbed to these vantage points, and men had returned.
He experienced a brief moment of envy, as he recalled that the girls of his age in the village would be in the round house with the women at the moment, chatting and eating, singing and praying. Somehow the girls found their women’s names without the privation and hardship endured by the boys. Kieli let the moment pass: dwelling on what you can’t control was futile, as his grandfather would say.
He thought of his grandfather, Laughter In His Eyes, who had been the last to speak to him as he climbed the lonely trail from the valley where his people dwelt. The old man had smiled as he always had – he could hardly remember a time when he hadn’t seen a smile on the old man’s face. Grandfather’s face was like brown leather from nearly eighty years of living in the mountains, his clan tattoos upon his left cheek still black despite years in the sun. The old man’s keen eyes and strong features were always framed by steel grey hair down to his shoulders. Kieli resembled his grandfather more than his father, for they both shared the olive skin which turned nut-brown in the summer and never burned, and in his youth Grandfather also had hair the colour of a raven’s wing. Others remarked that an outlander must have joined their family generations ago, for the Orosini were a fair race, and even brown hair was unusual.
Kieli’s grandfather had whispered, ‘When the gourd is empty, on Midsummer’s day, remember this: if the gods haven’t already provided you with a name, that means you’re allowed to choose one you like.’ And then the old chieftain had smothered him in a playful, but still-strong, hug that sent him stumbling along the path. The other men in the village of Kulaam looked on, smiling or laughing, for the festival would soon be upon them and the time of the naming vision was a joyous time.
