The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Er, what did we get Saul?’ Mistral asked, spinning around and trying to make sense of the jumble of bodies littered around them.

  ‘There’s six here … so three apiece?’ he said, looking at her and giving a shrug.

  ‘Sounds fair,’ she grinned. ‘Phantom … Phantasm! What did you get?’

  ‘Four!’ they sang back in jubilant voices.

  Bali had ended up fighting alone and had managed to bring down three whilst Xerxes, Brutus and Cain had brought down the remaining seven goblins between them. A heated debate immediately broke out as to who had actually killed how many, which Bali brought an abrupt end to by asking them all to complete the Contract and remove the heads.

  It was a grisly task that none of them enjoyed, although Grendel greatly speeded up the process with his double-headed battle axe. Before long the two canvas sacks that Bali had brought with them for the purpose were filled with the gory evidence of their success.

  ‘Time to go,’ Bali called quietly and led the way back out of the forests with Xerxes breaking into a cheerful rendition of his favourite goblin stuffing song to celebrate.

  When they left the damp forests and walked into the bitingly fresh air of the open grassland Mistral paused and drew in a deep breath of air. Her relief at being out of the repressive atmosphere of the forests was immediately followed by a sigh of regret that they would now be heading back to the Valley.

  Hearing her sigh, Phantasm turned and gave her an amused look, ‘Cheer up Mistral! We may have to travel back through the Southern Range yet and give you the chance to roll around on the floor with a gargoyle as well.’

  ‘Admittedly, brawling with the goblins wasn’t my preferred way to start the fight,’ she said stiffly. ‘But I still got the job done in the end didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes Mistral, you did,’ he smiled softly.

  ‘It was glorious though wasn’t it?’ she said, smiling happily.

  Phantasm shook his head and laughed, ‘You know Mistral, you have an extremely warped sense of what constitutes have a good time.’

  As it was barely noon they decided to break camp and move on. Strapping the still comatose Lieutenants to their horses and adding the two bags of goblin heads for good measure, the apprentices rode off in high-spirits, joining in with Xerxes when he started singing again.

  They camped for the night at the base of the Southern Range, celebrating around a camp fire and roasting more of the huge buck they had brought down the day before. By the time the tale of their goblin hunt had been told, embellished and retold for the fifth time, Mistral had fallen into a contented sleep with her head on Phantasm’s shoulder.

  The journey back was largely uneventful. Despite the ground having thawed too much for travel through the marshes the section of mountains they rode through proved to be gargoyle-free, much to Mistral’s disappointment.

  Caleb and Barak eventually came round at midday on the second day of their return journey. Still a bit confused, they were easily convinced by Cain’s smooth explanation that they’d both fallen badly during a rather daring sabre-toothed boar hunt and been knocked unconscious.

  ‘I still think we should keep it up,’ Mistral muttered to Cain while she watched the Training Lieutenants groggily discussing the boar hunt that never happened.

  ‘Not going to happen Mistral, give it up.’ Cain muttered through gritted teeth.

  They camped the last night before reaching the Valley at the outer edges of the wide meadows. For the first night since setting out they were unable to play cards or drink and the atmosphere was slightly deflated until Barak produced two gourds of strong liquor from his saddlebag and announced that since they had all performed “acceptably” on the Contract they deserved a “real” drink.

  ‘Providing that not a word is breathed about the boar hunt,’ he added in a menacing growl when he passed the gourd to Cain.

  ‘My lips are sealed,’ murmured Cain with a small smile, taking a deep swallow and passing the gourd on to Saul.

  ‘We’ve got to keep it up!’ Mistral hissed to him urgently. ‘He’s like a different person!’

  ‘Leave it!’ Cain warned.

  By the time the gourd had been passed around twice and Xerxes had made the tentative suggestion of a game of knucklebones the evening ended up being spent in much the same way as all the previous ones. The twins were persuaded to give another rendition of the ballad of Elias and Mistral could have sworn she saw Cyrus wipe a tear from his eye when the twins finished. Feeling a rare surge of well-being, Mistral rested her head onto Phantasm’s shoulder.

  ‘I don’t want to go back,’ she sighed.

  Wordlessly, Phantasm hooked one arm around her.

  Manticore Hunt

  Spring stole into the Valley almost unnoticed until one morning Mistral realised that she had taken her jerkin off to train. The sun grew in strength daily and the apprentices quickly grew used to Grendel’s noxious odour during their sweaty training sessions. They were all glad that most of their training took place outside rather than in the windowless room on the third floor.

  It was Friday and they were drilling in the outside Arena using quarterstaves. Mistral quite liked the basic weapon, it was versatile and satisfyingly effective to use. She had trained for most of the morning with the twins and Cain. He had grown up handling the short fighting staff and was a lightning fast opponent to work with.

  ‘Change!’ Barak bellowed and the apprentices all immediately moved to find another partner to work with. Mistral found herself facing Golden, the half-nymph smiled acidly and twirled her quarterstaff showily by her side.

  ‘Ready?’ Mistral asked coldly, keeping her own staff firmly in a central guard position, ready for any of Golden’s sly tricks.

  Golden gave a tinkling laugh and instantly thrust her quarterstaff towards Mistral’s midsection. Mistral leapt back, quickly turning her own staff lengthways to parry the blow upwards. Before Golden could attack again Mistral made a swift strike at the half-nymph’s legs. Golden laughed again and blocked it easily.

  ‘Is that the best you can do?’

  Mistral’s lip curled, ‘Let’s see shall we?’

  Mistral lunged at her and the air was filled with the knocking sound of wood on wood. They drilled faster and faster, using their footwork to move lightly around one another. Golden seemed determined to hurt Mistral, driving her staff in with more power than was needed and repeatedly aiming hard thrusts with the butt towards her face.

  Mistral felt her blood quicken but refused to let her temper rise. Instead she concentrated on parrying each shot, waiting for her opportunity. When Golden stepped back to catch her breath, spinning her staff in a showy figure of eight by her side, Mistral darted forwards and struck her across the outside of her thigh, eliciting a satisfyingly loud cry of pain. Leaping back to avoid Golden’s furious swipe of retaliation Mistral quickly smashed her own staff down, crushing Golden’s hand between the two staffs.

  Golden’s face contorted into a shriek of pain and Mistral smiled, angering the half-nymph even more. She raised her staff to continue with their bout when she suddenly felt a heavy blow across the side of her head. Her eyes just registering Columbine’s snarling face before blackness claimed her

  Mistral awoke with a splitting headache. She groaned and opened her eyes a fraction, squinting against the painfully bright light into the soft brown gaze of Serenity Lightwater.

  ‘Am I in the Infirmary?’ Mistral groaned and winced when the sound of her own voice made her head throb.

  ‘Yes, Phantasm carried you up here.’ Serenity said and smiled. ‘He was very worried about you and wanted to stay but I told him he could come back later.’

  ‘How long have I been here?’ Mistral asked groggily trying to sit up, groaning again when her head spun sickeningly.

  ‘You’ve been unconscious for about two hours,’ replied Serenity, looking at a silver fob watch pinned to the front of her white apron.

  ‘Can I go now I’m awake?’ Mi
stral asked, trying to force herself to look in less pain than she was.

  Serenity studied her for a long moment, ‘No, I think you need to stay in overnight. Master Sphinx left specific instructions that you are not to leave until you are fully recovered.’

  ‘Master Sphinx? Why do I have to stay here until he says?’ Mistral frowned in confusion.

  ‘He is concerned that the blow to your head may have damaged your ability to read auras,’ Serenity said calmly. ‘He said that under no circumstances were you to be allowed to leave until I could confirm that your gift was undamaged.’

  ‘What?’ Mistral stared at her in disbelief.

  ‘He was most insistent,’ Serenity said with a slightly disapproving look.

  ‘So if I read your aura I can go?’

  ‘Mistral, I really don’t advise straining yourself right now,’ Serenity said firmly, making to rise from her chair. ‘In fact, you should get some rest.’

  Mistral looked mutinous for a second before sighing and sinking back against the pillow, closing her eyes. ‘Can I have something for my headache?’ she muttered.

  ‘Of course. I’ll fetch something from the Apothecary store.’

  Mistral listened to Serenity’s quiet footsteps walking across the room and waited until she heard the sound of the Apothecary storeroom door opening before she opened her eyes. Checking that no-one was around to see, she flung back the bedsheet and slipped quickly out of bed. Reaching to grab her boots, she crept across the Infirmary towards the doors.

  Rest? She didn’t need rest. There was only one thing she needed and that was to batter Columbine into next week. Mistral closed the Infirmary doors softly behind her and began to walk more quickly along the corridor. Hot anger boiled up inside her when she thought about how Columbine had blatantly attacked her in a fit of rage just for getting the best of Golden during training. Adrenalin coursed through her, making her heart pound in time to the throbbing ache in her head where Columbine had struck her.

  Mistral ran up the stairs to the second floor and stormed straight to her room. Throwing open the door she strode inside and let it slam shut behind her. She stared about wildly for a moment, toying with the idea of grabbing her swords and running Columbine through with them.

  And be thrown out of the Valley without Qualifying.

  Mistral forced herself to take several deep breaths until she felt calmer, or at least less like committing murder. Sitting down on her bed to pull on her boots Mistral gazed out of the window and saw with a small smile of satisfaction that the sun had set. There was only one place everyone would be right now …

  Mistral pushed open the door of The Cloak and Dagger and stepped inside. The hot anger she had felt earlier had cooled to an icy rage. She paused in the doorway, her eyes raking the room for a head of wiry black hair and an ugly leering face. Mistral felt another burst of adrenalin rip through her when she spotted Columbine with Golden at a table in the centre of the room. Columbine had her back to the door and was unaware of Mistral’s entrance. All of her attention was focused on Golden, talking loudly and twirling a long strand of hair lazily through her fingers. Ignoring the sudden hush that fell across the tavern when the other apprentices realised what she was about to do, Mistral strode towards Columbine. Golden broke off from her monologue to look up as she approached, her face twisting into a spiteful smile.

  ‘Well, if it isn’t –’

  Before Golden could finish her sarcastic comment Mistral reached out and grabbed Columbine’s chair, tipping her backwards onto the floor with a surprised shout.

  ‘Hello Columbine.’

  Mistral glared down at Columbine sprawled on the floor at her feet. Her shocked look rapidly changed to one of fury when she saw who had tipped her over.

  Mistral dropped heavily onto Columbine’s chest before she had the chance to get up. Drawing back her fist she drove it into Columbine’s snarling face with all her strength. Columbine spat out a mouthful of blood and shoved Mistral off with an angry curse. She sprang to her feet and the tavern erupted into noisy chaos; Xerxes taking frantic bets, yells of encouragement and fists banging onto tables ... all of which Mistral was oblivious to as Columbine charged at her and sent them both crashing into the table behind them. They fell together, breaking the table with the force of their fall. Columbine locked her arms around Mistral in a powerful bear hug, forcing the breath from her lungs until Mistral could feel her ribs protesting under the continued pressure. Desperation for air gave Mistral a sudden burst of strength. She leaned back against Columbine’s iron grip and rammed her knee up into Columbine’s stomach. Columbine gave a grunt of pain and her grip slipped fractionally. Drawing in a much needed gasp of air Mistral kneed Columbine again, winding her enough to make her let go. With her arms suddenly free Mistral swiftly reached out and grabbed Columbine’s hair with one hand, clenching her other hand into a fist she drove it into the underside of Columbine’s jaw. With a low groan Columbine’s eyes rolled up and she slumped to the floor.

  Turning away from Columbine’s prostate body without a second glance Mistral shook out her throbbing hand and started to walk away. Hearing the twins call her name sharply she frowned and looked over to see them staring at her in horror. Bizarrely, Saul was running across the room as though it were on fire. He threw himself at her, knocking her flat to the floor just as a dagger flew through the air above them.

  The dagger struck a beam in the ceiling with a resounding thud, sinking deeply into the wood. In the shocked silence the sound of the hilt reverberating under the force of the impact could clearly be heard. The brief lull was quickly broken by Columbine’s scream of frustration and Mistral’s shout of anger.

  ‘Get off me!’ Mistral howled furiously from beneath Saul.

  He moved his arms to pin her more securely to the floor, ‘No chance! You’ll kill each other!’

  ‘That’s the plan!’ Mistral screamed and struggled to free herself from Saul’s grip.

  Mistral could hear Columbine cursing and swearing while she was thrown out The Cloak and Dagger, followed by the quieter amused laughter of Golden leaving after her.

  ‘Have you really got such a death wish?’ Phantasm demanded, striding over to help Saul raise Mistral to her feet and prevent her from running after Columbine.

  ‘I’m not the one trying to kill me! Columbine is!’ Mistral yelled, still fighting against their double grip.

  ‘Calm down Mistral!’ Phantasm hissed urgently. ‘I reckon you’ve got about five minutes before Master Sphinx hears about this and sends for you, so please try and get yourself together or he’ll expel you in a heartbeat if you’re in this state!’

  He steered her towards a table and rammed her onto a chair, when she immediately tried to rise he pushed down on her shoulders and forced her to sit again.

  ‘I don’t care about being expelled!’ Mistral fumed.

  ‘Yes, but we do!’ Xerxes called out cheerfully from behind her. ‘Life would get very dull without you randomly appearing and beating Columbine up.’

  ‘Am I the only one that saw that?’ Mistral demanded heatedly and pointed up to the dagger stuck in the beam above them.

  Xerxes frowned, ‘No, that was completely uncalled for.’

  ‘Uncalled for?’ Saul erupted. ‘It goes against everything we’ve been taught! Ri warriors are meant to trust each other with their lives! I wouldn’t want Columbine to have my back on a battlefield!’

  ‘No, you’d end up with a dagger sticking out of it,’ muttered Mistral.

  The adrenalin had begun to subside, leaving in its wake the pounding headache of earlier. She sunk her head down into her hands and massaged her throbbing temples.

  ‘Any chance of a drink before I go to be expelled?’ she sighed.

  Phantom smiled and rose from the table to fetch a goblet of warm spiced wine from a hatchet-faced Floris.

  ‘I don’t think Floris appreciated you and Columbine rearranging the furniture,’ said Phantom quietly and placed the full goblet
down in front of Mistral.

  ‘Words fail to describe how much I don’t care right now,’ muttered Mistral darkly. She reached for the goblet and drained it in one swallow. ‘Right, I’m not sitting here waiting for Leo’s holy summons, I’m off to be expelled.’

  ‘I don’t think you should go on your own just in case you run into Columbine on the way,’ said Phantasm quickly. Both he and Phantom rose from their chairs and swiftly followed her from the room.

  ‘Don’t even say it Xerxes,’ Saul growled warningly when Xerxes reached into his shirt pocket for the folded piece of parchment he recorded all bets on.

  ‘What?’ Xerxes cried, trying to look innocent then grinning and ruining it. ‘Oh come on! I reckon Mistral would annihilate her if she only got a chance but you lot keep stopping her! Surely that’s got to be worth a wager?’

  The twins caught Mistral up as she strode across the village square and fell in step beside her to walk in silence up the path to the Main Building.

  ‘Are you really going to escort me all the way?’ Mistral finally snapped when they followed her up the first flight of stairs, heading towards Leo Sphinx’s tower room.

  ‘Yes,’ said Phantasm shortly.

  ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world!’ Phantom said and grinned up at her. ‘Master Sphinx is going to hit the roof! First fighting in the Arena then leaving the Infirmary against his specific instructions only to carry on fighting in The Cloak and Dagger ... I bet they’ll be able to hear him shouting in the village!’

  Mistral stopped climbing and turned sharply to face him, ‘How did you know about Leo’s instructions?’ she demanded with a frown.

  ‘Walls have ears,’ Phantom shrugged lightly.

  ‘You two are so low!’ Mistral exclaimed angrily and continued up the stairs.

  ‘Lower than a pair of knucker’s –’

  ‘Mistral!’ Caleb’s voice rang out from below them. ‘Get down here now!’

  ‘What does he want?’ Mistral muttered, turning and shoving her way between the twins to make her way back down the stairs.