The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  Mistral’s still pounding heart seemed to falter. Of all the places…

  ‘Nevelte is a bit off the beaten path, and Mage Grapple may be suspicious that you have travelled north west first but we have the perfect cover story right here,’ he smiled coldly and looked over at Mistral, who was sat so still it was as though she was frozen to her stool, barely able to breathe.

  ‘This being her first major Contract, it will be perfectly believable that Mistral should want to visit her home village before setting off on a long journey –’

  Mistral felt Phantasm and Phantom’s questioning looks boring into the side of her head, but she didn’t look at them, keeping her gaze fixed instead on the table top … Serenity must have told him about her unknown parentage and upbringing ...

  ‘All is not lost if you miss Mage Grapple at this point. By travelling north west first you will be able to loop back around and head south down to the Amber River crossing,’ he pointed out a large curve in a blue line snaking across the map. ‘Mage Grapple will have to cross at the ford there. You can travel faster than a large army of warlock and should easily catch him up there. Failing that, you must ride hard and meet him at the port.

  ‘And now we need to agree upon a cover story. The first point to arouse suspicion in Mage Grapple’s mind will be why the Ri are using a little known south eastern port and not our preferred western one. I suggest a story that is little further from the truth.’

  Leo moved away from the map and began to stroll around the large circular room, his hands clasped behind his back.

  ‘Relate the events almost exactly as they occurred. The truth, or at least a version of it, is always the best form of lie. Explain that you were unable to leave with Gleacher Shacklock and the other warriors as all three of your horses had cast shoes and, given that the Equus was already fully occupied with preparing the horses for the mercenary Contract, you simply had to wait. This resulted in a lengthy delay and by the time your horses were ready the Ri’s ship had already set sail. You decided to ride overland to a south easterly port and charter a ship from there. A south easterly port would give a shorter sea crossing and help to catch up the time lost.’ Leo paused and considered for a moment. ‘Should Mage Grapple press you for details of the mercenary Contract, be vague. Remember that the Council are not our enemies – however it may look right now.’ he turned to fix them with a sharp look. ‘Is everything clear so far?’

  ‘Perfectly.’ Mistral muttered while the twins nodded mutely.

  ‘Good.’ Leo gave a satisfied nod and continued. ‘Your Contract with me is twofold. Firstly and most importantly you must persuade Mage Grapple not to make the crossing. Confrontation or sabotage is out of the question. Do not mention Count Putreo, Fabian or myself. Our involvement must remain undisclosed. Mage Grapple has a sharp mind and will soon realise there is more to all of this than first meets the eye. We cannot inform him of Putreo’s deception or it will reveal Fabian’s involvement and he will be branded a spy.

  ‘Now, should you fail in the first part,’ he paused and gave Mistral a hard look. ‘Then you must travel by any means necessary to The Desert Lands and inform Gleacher Shacklock immediately of what has occurred. He needs to know what his warriors will be facing.’

  Fabian De Winter started and looked at Leo with a stricken expression on his face. Leo ignored him and turned to speak directly to Mistral again, his face serious.

  ‘Under no circumstances must you try to read Mage Grapple’s aura. He cannot know that you possess that skill.’

  Fabian De Winter suddenly looked at her again. Interest flickered across his deathly pale face before he looked away.

  ‘Now,’ said Leo, returning to his chair and sitting down again. ‘Do you have any questions for me?’

  No, thought Mistral to herself, but she was sure the twins had a few for her.

  The twins shook their heads silently and after a moment Mistral realised that Leo was looking at her.

  ‘No, it’s all very clear,’ she muttered quietly.

  ‘Then you are all dismissed.’

  For the second time that evening Mistral and the twins found themselves outside of Leo Sphinx’s closing door in a state of shock. Before they had reached the bottom of the staircase, raised voices reached their ears. Fabian and Leo were arguing. They paused for a moment, straining to catch the words but they were muffled by the solid door and thick stone walls and all they could make out was the angry tenor of their voices.

  ‘Damn it,’ Phantasm exclaimed in frustration. ‘I knew something was going on! And now we can’t hear properly!’

  Mistral could tell by the look on his face that he was seriously considering stealing back up the staircase and listening at the door.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ she warned. ‘If he catches you outside his door your career will be over faster than one of Grendel’s showers! Come on, let’s go.’

  Mistral and Phantom began to walk quickly away from the base of the staircase. Giving one last longing glance up the stone staircase, Phantasm reluctantly followed on. They walked swiftly along the corridor in silence. When they moved out of hearing range of Leo’s tower room Mistral tensed slightly, waiting for the angry tirade to start.

  She didn’t have to wait very long.

  ‘Well,’ began Phantom in an unnaturally light voice. ‘We got a bit more than we bargained for there didn’t we?’

  Mistral cringed; she knew what was coming next.

  ‘Now how did that happen?’ Phantasm asked with mock amazement. ‘Did we get persuaded that it would be easy by someone we know?’

  ‘Do you think so?’ Phantom gasped sarcastically. ‘Well, who could that be I wonder?’

  ‘Fine! Fine! I admit that I might have got us in a little bit deeper than we’d reckoned, but –’

  ‘Might?’

  ‘A little bit?’

  Mistral held her hands up in surrender, ‘I’m sorry. Happy now? What can I do to make it up? You know I hate it when you sulk.’

  The twins smiled angelically at her.

  ‘Tell us all about Nevelte,’ Phantom promptly demanded.

  Mistral sighed. It was going to be a long night.

  A Tale Of Two Tribes

  The next morning Mistral rose at dawn feeling as though she hadn’t slept at all. The twins had kept her up half the night with an endless stream of questions about her dull upbringing in Nevelte. They had been perplexingly fascinated in where Brothertoft had found her as a baby and had questioned her relentlessly on which Arcane tribes lived in The Velvet Forests. Mistral had been as forthcoming as she could be, feeling that she owed them after dropping them in at the deep end with the Contract, which, strangely, they didn’t seem inclined to want to discuss at all. In the end, even Phantasm had conceded defeat about her birth parents.

  ‘You don’t look like any of the elven or yarthkin races,’ he had said for what felt like the hundredth time.

  ‘No,’ she had agreed resignedly.

  ‘Or Mage born. You don’t have the Craft do you?’ he had repeatedly asked.

  ‘No,’ she had confirmed wearily.

  ‘So, what blood do you have?’ he had mused.

  And so it had gone on until Mistral had fallen asleep on Phantom’s bed and they had woken her to send her off to her own room. They were good friends, but that was pushing things a bit too far.

  She yawned and stretched before reluctantly sliding out of her warm bed. Dressing hurriedly, Mistral glanced around her room and tried to remember what Leo had told them to pack. Both swords obviously, crossbow – always handy … throwing knives? Probably not, unless she was going to convince Mage Grapple by piercing him with sharp blades from a distance … dagger, definitely. Mistral reached under her pillow and pulled out her favourite short bladed dagger. Cloak, waterskin, basic medical kit, tinder box, spare clothes … as she wandered around her room throwing random items into her saddlebag she smiled to herself and bet that the twins had folded their clothes neatly
first.

  Mistral looked out of the window at the breaking dawn. The morning sky was stained with vivid yellows and pinks, promising to be a beautiful day. She walked to her door and turned to give her room one last cursory glance she almost slapped a hand to her forehead at her own forgetfulness.

  Armour!

  If she did end up going to The Desert Lands then she would definitely need her armour. Mistral strode over to the only piece of furniture in the room apart from her bed, a deep wooden box pushed up against the wall underneath the window. She flipped up the lid and reached inside with a tingle of anticipation. Her armour had been an expensive purchase and she had so far only used it in practise training sessions, but Titus had assured her that it was the best. Rummaging around in the bottom of the box, Mistral finally located what she was looking for. The simply designed pieces consisted of a chest, back plate and protective shoulder sections joined by sturdy straps all made of gorgon skin. Mistral pulled the armour out of the box and held it aloft, it had an unusual aroma, not exactly unpleasant but definitely odd. Gorgon skin was tougher than troll skin – which was the cheaper option due to its distinctive smell, but both materials had the added benefit of being impervious to sorcery. Just what she needed if she was going to be meeting Mage Grapple and his army of warlocks.

  Satisfied that she had everything she needed, Mistral strode to her door and flung it open to see the twins lounging casually against the wall outside her room.

  ‘Finally!’

  ‘Are you going to make a habit of waiting for me to appear from behind closed doors?’ Mistral asked irritably and slammed her door behind her with more force than was strictly necessary.

  ‘Only when you’ve persuaded us to go on an unpaid suicide mission,’ replied Phantasm cheerfully.

  Mistral pulled up short and turned to look at him.

  ‘Unpaid?’ she echoed faintly, ignoring the jibe about suicide mission. It would not come to that; he was just being dramatic.

  ‘Uh-huh. Sadly we won’t be getting anywhere near the same amount of money as the Mercenary Contract was paying even though it’s essentially the same work. I had a good read through the Contract before giving it back to Master Sphinx, and guess what? It’s payment on successful achievement of outcome only, and the payment will be “held over in lieu of training expenses occurred”,’ he quoted bitterly.

  Mistral winced, ‘I’m really sorry.’

  The twins sighed.

  ‘It’s fine, really,’ said Phantom consolingly. ‘You’ve already made it up to us.’

  ‘I have?’ Mistral frowned.

  ‘Oh yes! Watching you squirm when we meet your adoptive parents is going to be better than two Contract fees!’

  Mistral gritted her teeth and kept quiet. She had not quite worked out how to avoid this one. The last thing she wanted was the twins meeting Brothertoft and Elnora and in the process becoming armed with lots of stories of her childhood exploits to tease her with for the rest of her existence.

  ‘Breakfast?’ she asked brightly, swiftly changing the subject.

  They left the Valley a short while later under a sky of clear uninterrupted blue. Riding out through the North Gate and into the surrounding meadow it was hard not to feel a tingle of anticipation despite Phantasm’s obvious doubts about the Contract.

  ‘Nevelte, Nevelte,’ said Phantasm musingly to Mistral. ‘It’s a funny sort of a name, what does it mean?’

  Mistral snorted and pulled a face, ‘It means the villagers were too lazy to even think of a name for where they lived. The village is near The Velvet Forests you see.’

  ‘No, not really,’ said Phantasm looking mystified.

  Mistral sighed, as if it was painfully obvious, ‘Near Velvet Forests? Whenever the villagers described where their home was they would say that it was “near Velvet Forests” and before long it became “Nevelte” as in “near Velvet.” They couldn’t even be bothered to complete the sentence!’

  Phantasm gave a short laugh.

  ‘So you can see the kind of intellect we are dealing with here,’ continued Mistral in a disparaging tone. ‘A bunch of low grade sorcerers who couldn’t weave a spell if it came with instructions! I swear the Craft is wasted on some sorcerers.’

  ‘Craft follows bloodlines. Powerful sorcerers are born, not made. They couldn’t help it if their own skills were weak,’ chided Phantom, riding up on Mistral’s other side.

  Mistral shrugged dismissively and looked unrepentant. She was not looking forward to returning to Nevelte. In fact, the very thought made her want to turn Cirrus in the opposite direction and gallop away until there was at least a continent between her and that godforsaken village.

  The twins were keeping silent, but she could see from their expressions that they were feeling slightly smug. No matter how bad-tempered about it she became, Mistral had agreed to go to Nevelte and let them meet her adoptive parents and that was the end of it. She was trapped. She knew, and they knew it. Mistral sighed dejectedly and tried to get the twins to talk about something else.

  ‘Look, I know you’ve been avoiding the subject, but can we please talk about the Contract?’

  The twins looked at her in mock surprise, ‘Bored of talking about your home village already?’ Phantasm asked.

  ‘I was bored by that subject before you even raised it,’ she muttered, then said more clearly. ‘You know we need to talk about the details and put some sort of plan together.’

  Phantom shook his head and gave his brother a confused look, ‘I do apologise, I think I must have misheard. But did Mistral just say that she wanted to talk about details?’

  Phantasm smiled briefly but did not look at either of them. His gaze was fixed on some distant point on the horizon.

  ‘Well?’ Mistral prompted impatiently.

  Phantasm seemed to bring himself out of his reverie and turned to look at her, ‘I am not sure that putting a plan together will help us with this Contract,’ he sighed quietly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Phantasm sighed, ‘Well, have you actually considered that Master Sphinx has sent us on this Contract to purposely fail?’

  ‘You think he actually wants the warlocks to fight with the Ri?’ Phantom asked with a frown.

  ‘No, I don’t think that – but I do wonder why he’s sent us in particular. We don’t exactly possess the experience or skills required –’

  ‘We know why! It’s because we’re expendable, so if we do stuff up, no-one will know!’ Mistral broke in impatiently.

  Phantasm gazed at her broodingly, ‘I think it’s more than that. The whole thing just doesn’t add up. Why isn’t Master Sphinx dealing with this himself? He has the connections to meet directly with Mage Grapple and prevent this whole pointless chase across the Isle.’

  ‘Maybe he wanted to give us the opportunity to prove ourselves. After all, we have made it clear that we want to stay on for a second year, and only apprentices with something about them get that invitation,’ argued Mistral.

  ‘Possibly,’ said Phantasm, looking unconvinced.

  Mistral rolled her eyes, ‘Right, well while you dream up conspiracies d’you mind if Phantom and I draw up a plan of action?’

  Phantasm shrugged indifferently, ‘Be my guest.’

  Mistral shot him a contemptuous look before switching her attention to Phantom, ‘So we skip Nevelte as Mage Grapple obviously won’t stop at a fleapit like that, and ride straight through The Velvet Forests ... I know a really good route that’ll knock about half a day off our journey. We ride hard and get down to the Amber River as soon as we can. By my reckoning should arrive there by tomorrow evening ... which should be well before Mage Grapple … and then –’ she paused and drummed her fingers pensively on the pommel of her saddle.

  ‘Yes,’ prompted Phantom a little sarcastically, ‘I’m waiting for the rest of this masterpiece to be announced.’

  ‘I’m thinking!’ Mistral snapped. ‘Right, so when Mage Grapple appears you two have a chat wit
h him – you’re good at that sort of thing ... he goes off back up north with his army and we go back to the Valley and it’s all sorted! Easy!’

  ‘Oh, very well thought out Mistral! But what happens if Mage Grapple doesn’t take the word of three unqualified first year apprentices and decides to do something logical like, oh I don’t know, rescue his sister and her husband from being massacred by Rufus the Red’s army plus a bunch of Ri warriors?’

  ‘Well you think of something then!’ Mistral snapped and startled Cirrus.

  ‘Oh no! I’m too overawed by your impressive strategy! Tell me another – I could do with a laugh!’

  Mistral turned sharply in her saddle to face him, her eyes blazing with anger, but before she could open her mouth to continue arguing, Phantasm cut in smoothly.

  ‘Well that went well,’ he said in a slightly acidic voice. ‘But fun as it was to watch two such great intellects beating out a plan I think that we had best keep it simple.’

  Phantom glared stonily at his brother and Mistral looked on furiously. Phantasm ignored them both and continued in a mild tone.

  ‘I know you’re both going to disagree with me here, but credit me with some astuteness when it comes to reading people’s true intentions. I believe that Master Sphinx intends for us to fail and then step in at the last minute himself to rectify the situation.’

  ‘But that just doesn’t make sense! Why would he do that?’ Mistral burst angrily.

  ‘To put us in his debt,’ he replied quietly.

  Mistral looked at him, completely mystified but Phantom had an expression of dawning comprehension on his face.

  ‘Well that’s conniving and manipulative beyond anything we ever saw at the Council,’ he breathed in an awed undertone.

  Phantasm raised his eyebrows and nodded, ‘Hmm, I think that even we may have seriously underestimated Master Sphinx.’