Free Talon of the Silver Hawk by Raymond E. Feist

in which a man can steal an early march on the hunt or a long journey, before the dawn breaks.
    Entering the barn and seeking out his pallet, Talon threw himself down, fatigue overwhelming him, the half-eaten apple falling from his hand. As he wondered what fate had in store for him and the reason behind Robert’s many and seemingly pointless questions, Talon fell quickly into an exhausted sleep.

GAMES
    Talon frowned.
    He looked at the cards laid out upon the table and attempted to discern any choice that might create a solution. After examining the four cards he had just turned over, he realized there was no possible way he could continue the game.
    Sighing, half in frustration, half out of boredom, he swept up the cards and began reshuffling them. He resisted the temptation to turn and see if the two men watching him were showing any reaction.
    The white-haired man he had thought of as “Snowcap,” but who was actually named Magnus, stood beside Robert, who was sitting on a stool, brought into the dining room from the common room. Robert had introduced the concept of cards to Talon a week earlier.
    The deck consisted of fifty-two cards, in four suits:cups, wands, swords, and diamonds, each a different color, the cups being blue, wands green, swords black, and diamonds yellow. They were used primarily for games like lin-land, pashawa, and poker, or po-kir as it was called in Kesh. Robert had demonstrated several games and had Talon play a few hands of each to get familiar with the ordering of the suits, from the card known as the “ace,” which Robert explained came from a Bas-Tyran word for “unit,” to the lord. The lower cards were numbered from two to ten, but Talon saw no logic as to why the unit, or the one as he thought of it, was the most valuable card, more so than the lord, lady, or captain.
    Talon smiled slightly to himself. He didn’t know why that little fact, that the lowest number, the single unit, was the most valuable card, irritated him. Still, he did well enough with the games Robert had taught him. Then Robert had introduced him to the concept of solitary play, using the deck for idle amusement when lacking opposing players. The games were roughly a variation on a theme, different “layouts,” as Robert called them, with different ways in which to draw cards from the deck. Some games required the player to build cards in rows based on rank, in alternating colors of light and dark, or in order of number, or a combination.
    Earlier in the previous day Robert had taken Talon from the kitchen—there were no guests, so duty was light—and had brought him into the dining hall. There he had introduced the game of “four lords.’’
    It was a perplexing game. Four lords were laid out from right to left, and four cards were dealt faceup. The object of the game was to place the cards by suit next to the lords, the only prohibition being that cards must be placed next to cards of the same number or suit. The next goal was to create “packs” of four identical number cards, in a square.This continued until all four aces were together, at which point they were retired from the game. Then the twos, and so forth until only the lords remained.
    Talon had discovered early on that it was a very difficult game to win, relying far too much on the random luck of cards coming out in a certain order, rather than skill. But some skill was required in anticipating situations in which cards would be isolated from others of like value.
    For half a day Talon had eagerly played the game, determined to become a master at it. Then he realized just how much random luck was involved and became disenchanted with it. Yet Robert still insisted that he play, and sat behind silently to observe.
    As Talon laid out the next game, he wondered not for the first time exactly why Robert was doing this.

    Magnus whispered, “Robert, why are you doing this?’’
    Robert