The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

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The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) Page 4

by Kirsten Jones


  ‘Oh my! Why of course! I would be delighted to! Twins are you? Goodness, how striking you are!’

  Eudora’s voice was high and musical, reminding Mistral of the sound of a string of silver bells being shook. She smiled coquettishly at Phantasm and then Phantom, her tiny blue eyes twinkling afresh as they travelled again over their angelic features and long-limbed bodies. With quick precise movements, Eudora moved from behind the counter and nimbly climbed a long ladder positioned against the towering rows of shelves.

  ‘Three of every item apiece is standard,’ she called down from above as folded garments began to drop down and land in a neat pile on the counter. ‘And in black, of course!’ she gave a silvery laugh and winked down at Phantasm, as though this were a great joke.

  ‘Why is everything in black?’ Mistral asked, slightly irritated by Eudora’s manner. She had not even looked at her and obviously only had eyes for the twins.

  ‘So it doesn’t show the blood of course, silly!’ her voice was slightly muffled by the large pile of folded garments she was in the process of pulling from one of the shelves.

  Phantom caught Mistral’s expression and whispered, ‘Ignore her Mistral. She’s obviously got fairy blood. She can’t help being irritating.’

  ‘Or flirty,’ added Mistral sourly.

  Phantom smothered a grin and began to unfold the clothes Eudora dropped down to them.

  ‘There! All done!’

  Eudora slid down the ladder as gracefully as a dancer and landed with an elegant jump at the bottom. She moved so quickly and lightly that Mistral almost expected her to take flight at any moment.

  ‘Now, let’s see what we have here,’ she giggled and held a shirt up in front of Phantasm, as if to check it would fit. ‘Would you like to try it on?’ she enquired hopefully.

  ‘I trust your impeccable judgement entirely,’ replied Phantasm smoothly, giving her a dazzling smile.

  Eudora’s hand fluttered over her lips as she gazed back at him and she giggled again, sorely tempting Mistral to try out one of her shiny new throwing knives.

  Grinding her teeth together, Mistral elbowed past Phantasm and joined Phantom in unfolding some of the garments. Ignoring Eudora’s enthusiastic attempts to establish what Phantasm was doing later that evening, Mistral discovered that her new wardrobe consisted of three pairs of soft moleskin trousers, three loose fitting cotton shirts, a sturdy leather belt, a pair of leather boots and three close-fitting sleeveless vests; all in ubiquitous black. Mistral scoured the shelves and pulled out a fur-lined jerkin of such butter-soft leather than it felt like silk in her hands and dumped it unceremoniously on top of her pile.

  ‘Travelling cloaks?’ Mistral demanded abruptly, fixing Eudora with a questioning glare.

  ‘Over there –’ Eudora flapped a tiny hand vaguely towards the far wall of the shop, her eyes never leaving Phantasm’s amused face while she twirled a lock of jet black hair between her fingers.

  Mistral scowled at her and stomped over to where Eudora indicated and reached up to grab a folded cloak. She dropped it out to examine the quality of the cloth, hoping that it would be too thin or have a sewing flaw in it so that she could shove it back unfolded for Eudora to find later. To her chagrin the cloak was well-made in heavy wool, durable and warm. Phantom drifted silently to her side and pulled two more from the shelf.

  ‘I think we’d better make a sharp exit. Eudora’s asking which room Phantasm’s staying in at The Cloak and I don’t fancy her knocking on the door in the middle of the night!’ he whispered.

  ‘No,’ agreed Mistral in a sour tone. ‘I bet she won’t mind which twin she gets in the dark either.’

  Phantom closed his eyes and shuddered briefly before walking quickly back to the counter, ‘All done!’ he announced brightly, laying the cloaks on the counter.

  Tearing Phantasm away from Eudora’s grasping clutches took another fifteen minutes, during which she forced him to swear that he would return and visit her for tea the following day.

  ‘Oh don’t forget! I run a repair service too! You’d be surprised what damage to clothes those swords can do!’ Eudora trilled as they beat a hasty retreat.

  ‘Not as much damage as I’d like to do to her,’ muttered Mistral darkly. Shoving her new purchases into her leather saddlebag she slung it over her shoulder and began to walk back down the street.

  ‘She wasn’t so bad,’ murmured Phantasm.

  Mistral shot him a black look, realising that she hadn’t actually seen him pay for any of his purchases in the shop she let out an angry hiss, ‘Did you sweet-talk that sad old trollop into giving you all those?’

  Phantasm gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence, ‘It’s terribly rude to refuse a gift Mistral.’

  Mistral made a noise in her throat that sounded like a growl.

  ‘Er, I think it’s time for lunch now,’ Phantom said quickly.

  ‘Will your girlfriend be joining us?’ Mistral asked sarcastically. ‘Only I think she should be told that you and your brother are not actually on the menu!’

  Phantom sniggered and quickly pretended to be studying the window display of Scrimshaw and Scuttle when his twin shot him a filthy look.

  ‘Lunch it is,’ agreed Phantasm, looking coolly aloof while he tucked his ill-gotten gains under his arm and walked back towards The Cloak and Dagger.

  ‘After lunch I want to go see to the stables,’ said Mistral, casting a longing glance over her shoulder at the collection of low-roofed buildings that made up the Ri’s stableyard.

  ‘No problem, I think we ought to look at buying horses too. The Equus has quite a reputation for breeding excellent horses,’ said Phantom.

  ‘The Equus?’ Mistral looked at him blankly.

  ‘He’s the Ri’s horse-master. Has been for years. Apparently there’s nothing on four legs that he can’t shoe, break or handle.’

  ‘What is he? Half-centaur?’ Mistral asked with a distinctly jealous edge to her voice.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Who would mate with a centaur except another centaur?’ Phantom laughed.

  They had reached the heavy door to The Cloak and Dagger and their conversation abruptly ended as they entered the quiet tavern. It wasn’t advisable to walk in joking about strange half-breeds when it was entirely likely that whatever the butt of the joke was might be sat at a table within earshot. Phantom and Mistral settled at a table near the fire whilst Phantasm strolled over to order drinks and meals from the sour-faced Floris.

  After a hurried lunch of a thick beef stew, the twins followed Mistral out of the tavern and across the village square towards the stableyard.

  ‘Impatient isn’t she?’ Phantom said with a sigh, making no effort to try and keep up.

  ‘Hmm, but quite compelling.’ Phantasm smiled. ‘Let’s just say that I don’t think there’s going to be a dull moment so long as Mistral is in the Valley.’

  ‘Good, I do hate to be bored,’ said Phantom with a happy sigh.

  By the time the twins had strolled leisurely into the stables Mistral was stood in the middle of a large cobbled yard engaged in deep conversation with a beefy red-faced man. From the muscular appearance of his arms and chest, the twins assumed correctly that he was the Equus.

  ‘Yes please, I’d like to see him, and bring the other two over as well –’ Mistral was saying as the twins ambled up to her, smiling pleasantly at the Equus.

  The Equus nodded and abruptly turned on his heel, heading towards the paddock. Mistral turned quickly to face the twins, her eyes shining with excitement.

  ‘That was the Equus,’ she explained unnecessarily. ‘He’s got a really good horse he’s going to show me from his last breeding programme that he hasn’t sold yet,’ she continued in a low voice. ‘I’ve got him to bring you a couple from his latest batch. This generation of Ri horses are all named after the planets –’

  ‘Great, so I’m going to be expected to ride around on Uranus am I?’ Phantom interrupted sourly.

  ‘Think yourselv
es lucky! It sounds like he’s got a thing about naming his generations of horses – the last lot were all named after cloud shapes … all completely unpronounceable. Imagine it! Ri warriors riding around on horses they were forced to nick-name ‘Fluffy’ and ‘Streaky’! The Equus said it was just embarrassing –’

  ‘Glad he’s gone for something more basic this time then,’ commented Phantasm drily as the Equus approached them, leading three horses. Two were slightly built bay geldings, almost a matched pair. Their calm, steady gait spoke of a quiet and biddable nature. The third, larger and more powerfully built horse tossed his head and fought against the head collar as he hauled forward by the Equus.

  ‘These two are brothers, Mars and Jupiter,’ the Equus nodded towards the pair of bays. ‘And this is Cirrus, the last of the cloud-named generation,’ he indicated to the fidgeting horse then jerked his hand back as Cirrus tried to bite it bad-temperedly.

  ‘Why hasn’t he been bought yet?’ Mistral asked, looking covetously at Cirrus.

  The Equus patted Cirrus’ glossy black neck. Cirrus rolled his eyes, showing a frightening amount of white in the process.

  ‘Cirrus hasn’t found the right owner yet,’ the Equus said a touch defensively. ‘He’s a bit, well – temperamental – I suppose you’d call it. He gets it from his dam, too much firebrand blood in the line.’

  ‘Firebrand? Really?’ Mistral admired the horse’s strong clean legs and muscled flanks with an almost fanatical gleam in her eye. ‘Aren’t they meant to be untameable?’

  The Equus snorted angrily, sounding not unlike one of his charges, ‘Untameable? Rubbish! Firebrands are just strong-willed and need the right handling. You can’t just march up to one and get on! They need to be shown respect and to respect their rider.

  ‘Firebrand blood runs through all the Ri herd, but his dam was a pure bred. I found her injured and brought her back to heal her. I thought a bit of new blood would help strengthen the line – which it did, but Cirrus here, well, he’s been needing a suitable rider for a couple of years now and it doesn’t look like one’s coming along neither –’

  Mistral was only half-listening to the Equus, she was moving calmly and slowly towards Cirrus, making sure he could see every motion she made. Cirrus rolled his eyes and stamped a large iron-shod hoof but didn’t try to pull away from her. When she was level with his arched neck she stopped and stood completely still. Her hands hung open by her sides in a relaxed stance. Every breath she drew and exhaled was easy and steady. After a moment she reached out to take the lead rope from the Equus.

  The Equus grunted and handed her the rope then moved away with the two bay geldings to where Phantasm and Phantom were standing a safe distance away. Mistral could hear the sound of the Equus’ rough voice singing the geldings’ praises and Phantasm’s wind-chime voice asking questions, but she only had eyes for the horse before her.

  Cirrus stamped a hoof impatiently and swished his tail.

  ‘Hello Cirrus,’ murmured Mistral, sliding a hand onto his smooth neck and stroking it gently. Cirrus gave a haughty toss of his head and snorted but didn’t move away. Gradually Mistral moved up alongside his proud head and laid her hand out flat beneath his velvet nose. After a moment’s pause Cirrus dropped his head and nuzzled her palm, looking for a treat. Mistral cast a quick glance at the Equus and grinned when she saw him in the process of taking money from the twins. The familiar reckless impulse that had so often led her into trouble in the past was upon her again. Leading Cirrus over to the mounting block at the side of the yard she ran lightly up the steps then paused and drew in a deep breath before swinging her leg over his broad back.

  Cirrus snorted and wheeled, arching his back and threatening to buck and dislodge the strange weight astride him. Mistral gripped tightly with her legs and twined her hands into his mane, ready to hang on in case he rebelled in earnest. After a few seconds Cirrus decided that Mistral was no threat and walked purposefully over towards the paddock instead, keen to be back out with the rest of the herd. Mistral made no effort to deter him; she was too impressed with his smoothly powerful gait and couldn’t wait to empty her purse into the Equus’ open palm.

  When they reached the paddock gate Mistral felt that she had achieved quite enough for one day. Sliding quickly from his back and swiftly unbuckling his head collar she pushed open the gate into the paddock and quickly stepped to the side, away from Cirrus’ hard hooves. Cirrus walked through and turned to look at her briefly before flinging out both back legs in a mighty buck. Neighing wildly he thundered away across the paddock, scattering the herd before him. Mistral leaned against the gate and watched him bully the herd, galloping back and forth and snapping at any horse in his path. She was smitten.

  Phantasm and Phantom sauntered over, each leading a bay gelding. Seeing the look on her face they both sighed and shook their blonde heads.

  ‘It’s like those wretched butterfly knives all over again isn’t it?’ Phantom said with a resigned look on his face.

  ‘He’s magnificent,’ breathed Mistral, not taking her eyes from Cirrus who was still mercilessly harassing the rest of the herd.

  It was all they could do to tear her away as the sun began to set on the short winter day and darkness finally impaired her view. The Equus walked with them back to the yard to stable the twins’ new purchases safely away from the marauding Cirrus.

  ‘Looks like you’ve made your mind up then,’ he said to Mistral as she fished inside her shirt for her much diminished purse of money.

  ‘No question about it,’ she said happily, counting coins out into his open palm.

  ‘Reckon he might have taken to you as well,’ the Equus said grudgingly, dropping the coins into his own leather purse. ‘Well if you’ve got your heart set on that one I suppose you’d best call me by my first name since I’m going to be picking you up off the ground a lot – it’s Clovis.’

  Before Mistral could reply – or laugh – the Equus turned and stomped off across the darkening yard.

  As the twins had predicted, more newcomers began to arrive in the Valley over the course of the next week, obviously there to begin their apprenticeships. All the rooms in The Cloak and Dagger were taken and the tavern filled up each evening with rowdy and boisterous bodies, all talking excitedly about the training that lay ahead of them.

  It was the eve of the New Year and Mistral and the twins were sat drinking at a table together. Mistral was relaxed, leaning back in her chair to listen with amusement while the twins delivered a running commentary on everyone that walked in.

  ‘Definitely yarthkin blood,’ said Phantasm studying a tall dark haired figure that walked through the door and strolled across towards the bar.

  ‘Do you think he’s here for training?’ Mistral asked, looking at the figure with interest. Some of the newcomers were young like her and the twins; others were older and obviously fully qualified Ri warriors in the Valley on business. They were conspicuous by the way they tended to keep to themselves and also by the rather frightening amount of scars some of them had.

  ‘Definitely ... no scars you see,’ murmured Phantasm.

  Mistral frowned as she looked around the tavern, ‘How do they all know when to come to the Valley now? I mean, it’s not like the Ri advertise when training’s about to begin.’

  The twins looked at her curiously.

  ‘So, not raised by your tribe then?’

  Mistral took a drink from her goblet of wine to hide her face and shook her head. She had not talked about her dull upbringing and had no real wish to. Everyone she had met so far seemed to have been raised by their Arcane parent and had much more interesting stories of their lives to tell than she had.

  ‘All of the Arcane tribes know of the Ri because most warriors are of Arcane blood. Its only sorcerers that treat the Ri as some kind of an unclean word, like they’re ashamed of the Ri doing their dirty work for them,’ said Phantasm with a rare scowl.

  ‘What do you mean; “dirty work”?’ Mistral aske
d.

  ‘Most of the Contracts the Ri undertake are issued by the Mage Council – hunting, tracking, mercenary work, assassinations. In short, anything they want clearing up or hiding gets given to the Ri to sort out. The Ri are like a cleaning service to them.’

  They all looked up as the door opened again and a colossal form filled the doorway. The figure was so large that he had to bend his head to enter. Mistral found herself staring in frank amazement at him. He was massive, in every way; taller than anyone she had ever seen and broader, with a kind of solidness that spoke of great strength. He was also incredibly ugly with a large domed head sat on top of a thick neck. He slouched across the room, his long arms swinging slackly by his immense sides.

  ‘Who is that?’ Mistral asked with a gasp as a smell like an open sewer hit her.

  ‘Grendel,’ Phantom muttered shortly. ‘He’s staying in the hayloft, which is why you haven’t met him yet.’

  ‘Lovely chap,’ murmured Phantasm into his drink.

  Mistral narrowed her eyes at Phantasm. She was beginning to notice that he never seemed to say exactly what he meant and felt it was time for a little bit of the truth to be told. Focussing her attention on the air around his sleek blonde head, she slowed her breathing and forced her mind to empty of every thought until it was calm and blank. Slowly, like steam rising from hot earth after rain, a fine mist of colour began to appear around Phantasm’s head as his aura revealed itself to her sight. A cloud of deepest royal blue tinged with silver encircled him just as she had expected; purpose and excitement. Staring deeper into the blue veil Mistral could just make out turquoise streaks of amusement and then, as she had hoped, Phantasm’s true feelings towards the newcomer were exposed in a violent splash of bright orange.

  She blinked and laughed as the vision vanished, ‘Liar,’ she said confidently to Phantasm.

  He frowned over the rim of his tankard at her, ‘Excuse me?’

 

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