Mistral snorted, ‘No chance. Let her die.’
‘I will.’ Cain said quietly then looked at Mistral. ‘If I’m willing to do it you should be too.’
‘You’ve got me wrong then brother, because I look forward to dancing round her pyre!’
‘Don’t we all, but is this how you want your victory to taste? Bitter? She’s wounded Mistral, helpless and dying. Where’s the satisfaction in that?’
Mistral held his gaze. The impish blue eyes that she’d faced over a card table hundreds of times were serious.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Sew. I’m not bad with a needle but you’re better. It’s going to be a two person job stopping her from bleeding to death,’ Cain said, reaching for his saddlebag and slinging it over his shoulder.
‘Stitch her pretty Mistral. She needs improving,’ Phantom murmured, sidling up to beside her like a ghost.
Mistral looked him over and sighed. Both he and his brother were completely unscathed, their appearances immaculate as ever.
‘Did you two actually do anything?’
‘I think we may have saved your worthless neck a couple of times,’ retorted Phantom. ‘Which is more than can be said for Columbine or Konrad,’ he added with a meaningful nod in Columbine’s direction.
Gazing over at Columbine’s motionless body, Mistral sighed, ‘I suppose we’d better treat her before she dies. I don’t think it would be a plus point on my Qualification score do you?’
‘We need to find out what’s happened to Konrad as well,’ Xerxes said, gazing at the forests worriedly. ‘Let’s split up into two parties. My brother and I will go into the forests again. We’ll be able to deter the wolverines with Song if they decide to try and have another go at us. Saul? Would you come with us? Your eyesight would be a great help and, Grendel? We could use your strength if there’s any trouble.’
The others murmured their agreement and gathered together. Saul grabbed his medical kit from his saddlebag and tucked it inside his jerkin.
‘We shouldn’t be long,’ he called to Mistral and the twins then hurried after the others across the meadow. ‘He can’t be too far away.’
‘Unless they’ve taken his body,’ murmured Cain, watching the group depart.
‘I doubt it. Tithes are usually a token, some kind of trophy to take back to the tribe,’ Fabian said while he finished cleaning blood from his sword.
Mistral and Cain shared a look, both wondering just what Xerxes’ group were going to find.
‘We’ll go with you while you treat Columbine and keep a lookout, just in case the elves come back,’ said Phantasm, looking to Fabian for his agreement.
Fabian nodded and indicated to Phantasm’s crossbow, ‘How many bolts do you have left?’
‘Not many, we shot all of the wolverines with at least one poisoned bolt each. The pack is as good as dead once the poison takes hold.’
‘Good,’ Fabian said then turned to look enquiringly at Mistral. ‘Ready?’
She nodded and slid her freshly cleaned swords into the holder across her back, ‘Let’s get on with it,’ she said shortly.
Following Fabian, they walked carefully around the section of snow where the caltrops had been laid before being able to move more quickly towards Columbine. Fabian and the twins drew back slightly when they approached where she lay, holding their crossbows ready and keeping a watchful eye on the treeline.
Trying to ignore the mauled carcass of the horse half-buried in a bank of scarlet snow nearby, Mistral knelt beside Columbine’s body and studied her blood spattered features. She was unconscious but her chest rose and fell in a faint motion.
‘She’s still alive,’ she murmured and reached out to take the canvas pouch that Cain passed to her.
‘Then let’s work.’ Cain muttered and uncorked a bottle of ointment with his teeth. ‘All the bites need cleaning and dressing. We’d better stitch those two on her face, oh and that larger one on her shoulder. Then we’ll turn her over and check the rear view.’
‘You do the face.’ Mistral said grimly and began to splash ointment into the wounds, hoping that even in her comatose state, Columbine could feel it stinging
Cain and Mistral worked silently, thoroughly cleaning and neatly stitching the wounds until they were satisfied they had done as much as they could.
‘She’s lost a lot of blood,’ said Cain, feeling her pulse. ‘We need to take her to the Infirmary straight away.’
‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ said Mistral disgustedly and took hold of Columbine’s legs to help Cain carry her body across the meadow.
‘We have the more preferable task,’ said Fabian grimly and took Columbine’s body from their shared grip to throw her lightly over his shoulder.
‘Thanks. It was too tempting to drop her,’ muttered Mistral.
‘Hush Mistral. They’re back.’ Phantasm said quietly.
Mistral looked up to see her brothers approaching from the forests carrying something wrapped in a cloak.
Phantom frowned, ‘I think that’s Konrad.’
‘Or what’s left of him,’ added Phantasm grimly.
They waited while the apprentices slowly approached, grim-faced and silent.
‘Why are they all carrying him?’ Mistral whispered to Phantasm. ‘Grendel could carry him with one hand.’
‘They’re sharing the burden as a mark of respect for a fallen brother.’
‘Ah, so he’s dead then –’
‘I hope so,’ said Fabian coldly. ‘Elves usually skin their victims.’
Mistral stared with horror at the blood soaked cloak wrapping Konrad’s body.
‘I don’t think I want you to see this,’ Fabian muttered, grabbing her hand and pulling her roughly away. ‘Grendel can you carry Columbine? Mistral is going to help me gather up the caltrops.’
Locating and cautiously picking the caltrops out of the snow took twice as long as laying them and by the time they had finished the others were mounted ready to leave. At Cain’s insistence Grendel had already started to make his way back to the Valley with Columbine slung over his shoulder, but the others were waiting for Fabian and Mistral.
She retrieved Cirrus from Brutus and quickly pulled herself into the saddle, trying not to look at the bloody object tied over the back of Xerxes’ saddle.
Nobody spoke while they rode slowly across the meadow and headed back towards the Valley. The sun was already setting by the time they reached the North Gate, unnoticed in a riot of pink and red that stained the snow on the Western Range and the sky behind them. They rode silently through the towering gates; not reacting when the guard began to ring the warning bell at the sight of a fallen warrior.
The strident tolling of the bell reminded Mistral of bringing Bali’s body back to the Valley. She felt a wave of dread wash over her at the thought of a prolonged interview with Leo Sphinx and another warrior’s funeral.
She drew in a sharp breath, feeling the panic of claustrophobia clawing at her and saw Fabian gazing steadily at her. He leaned closer so that only she could hear his words, his eyes not leaving hers.
‘I will not leave your side for one single second of this night.’
A spark flared within her, giving her the strength she needed to face what was coming. She smiled gratefully back into his dark eyes, feeling suddenly calmer.
By the time they had ridden along the path to the village square a group had gathered, all bearing torches to shed light in the growing darkness.
‘Warriors, dismount.’
Leo Sphinx’s cold tones were easily recognisable but his words sounded strange. With a dull flash Mistral realised that they had completed Qualification. Her brothers were now warriors.
Gleacher Shacklock moved swiftly to untie Konrad’s body from the back of Xerxes’ saddle. Mistral looked around for the hulking figures of the three Lieutenants and was surprised to see they were absent.
‘We will pay our respects to a warrior tonight. Join me in The Cl
oak and Dagger before we bid our brother farewell.’
Leo swept past them and paused briefly by Fabian’s side to mutter a few quietly spoken words. Fabian nodded once and Leo strode on towards the tavern, motioning to the Equus as he passed. Clovis immediately hurried forward to gather up all of the horses’ reins and lead them away.
Fabian took Mistral’s hand and led her gently towards the brightly lit tavern, his face expressionless in the orange flare of torchlight.
‘Why doesn’t he want to speak with us?’ Mistral whispered in confusion, watching Leo enter the tavern ahead of them.
‘Golden has already told him everything,’ Fabian murmured back. ‘He’s asked for me to meet with him in the morning to verify her story.’
‘Do you think she told the truth?’ Mistral asked dubiously.
Fabian nodded, ‘The truth is far more deplorable than any lie she could fabricate, but I doubt that playing the distressed victim will further her efforts to resume their affair. Leo has overcome his obsession with her.’
Mistral glanced at him. They were brothers and obviously talked about such things … she suddenly was struck by an uncomfortable thought.
‘Do you discuss me like that too?’
Fabian turned to regard her with his fathomless black gaze.
‘We spoke about you once when I returned to the Valley. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would not give you up. You are my absolution.’
Mistral stared back at him. The intensity of his gaze was almost frightening. He had described her as his absolution … but, what did that mean?
‘That doesn’t sound very passionate,’ she muttered, feeling slightly disappointed that Fabian hadn’t confessed to proclaiming his undying love for her and ranting on about her good points for hours on end.
‘Mistral, you are my chance do something right with my life. We are about to attend a funeral; what more could make your realise that the end is inevitable and it is only what we do between being born and dying that marks us for the people we are?’
Mistral listened to the depth of emotion in his voice and understood that more than the words coming from his mouth. She gazed at him, a slight furrow creasing the skin between her eyebrows while she fought down the question threatening to burst from her lips.
Fabian’s eyes searched her face and he smiled, reading her expression as easily as though she had uttered the question out loud.
‘Of course, I also told him that I loved you.’
A grin broke out on her face, which she instantly quelled since they were about to enter the hushed confines of The Cloak and Dagger.
As before the entire population of the village were crammed into the low-ceilinged tavern, filling every table and standing three deep around the walls.
Floris was stood by a large barrel of wine, waiting expectantly. The silence seemed to deepen as the apprentices filed through the door. Mistral glanced at them, taking in their blood-stained and pale appearances. Saul and Cain both bore bites on their arms that could clearly be seen through the ripped holes in their shirts. They gathered together at the bar where a space had been left for them.
Leo Sphinx was standing near to Floris and nodded briefly at him to break open the cask of wine. Floris immediately wrenched the top from the barrel and raised it above his head, pausing for the briefest of moments before he smashed it down over his knee. Leo dipped a tankard into the full cask and raised it up like a trophy. Blood-red wine dripped from the gleaming wet metal, splashing down onto the stained wooden floor.
‘Fill your tankards and drink! We do not mourn the passing of a warrior tonight but honour his life.’
Leo’s voice was strong and sincere, but the words rang hollow to Mistral. Forcing her face not to betray her she glanced at her brothers and saw them all wearing similar wooden looks.
‘Drink Mistral,’ Fabian murmured, passing her a full tankard.
She looked at him with a frozen expression still on her face, ‘I can’t stand here and drink to mourn his passing when I’m not sorry he’s dead!’
‘None of us are mourning his passing.’ Fabian replied and Mistral could tell the other apprentices were listening to him too, that they were also struggling with not feeling any sorrow for Konrad’s death, however gruesome his end had been. ‘But let his passing mark a turning point in your own lives. How do you want to be remembered?’
Her brothers’ responses were audible only to their closely gathered group.
‘With pride,’ Brutus muttered.
‘With honour,’ Xerxes said fervently.
‘With reverence,’ chimed the twins.
‘With respect,’ said Saul.
‘With a smile,’ finished Cain.
They all laughed quietly and raised their tankards.
‘To Konrad. For teaching us how not to be remembered,’ said Xerxes solemnly.
The rich wine was better than any of Serenity’s tonics and by the time she had drained her tankard Mistral felt the tension begin to slip from her shoulders. Comforted by Fabian’s arm around her waist, she leaned in closer to him and listened to the noise level in the tavern going up a level. Everyone was talking about the Qualification Hunt. Soon her brothers were being bought drinks and plied with questions about their heroic fight. They didn’t seem to mind too much since most of their inquisitors were the daughters of the villagers. Mistral gazed across the room and noted Eudora making a beeline for the twins and nudged Phantom with her elbow.
‘Watch out brother. There’s something coming for you that makes the Blackheart Wolverines look like stuffed toys!’
The twins followed her gaze and blanched.
‘I don’t suppose you’d consider reprising your role as my girlfriend?’ Phantasm asked quickly.
‘No chance, I told you it was my turn next time,’ Phantom butted in, starting to look panicked as Eudora smiled and waved at him.
‘Sorry, but no.’ Mistral leaned her head against Fabian’s shoulder and gazed at them with a smug expression on her face. ‘It’s time you learned to fight your own battles.’
‘Mage De Winter won’t let you more like,’ said Phantom bitterly and watched Eudora climbing over a chair that was blocking her path.
‘Mistral can do as she pleases,’ Fabian smiled.
‘Oh, I am,’ she replied and turned to kiss him.
Gleacher Shacklock’s iron voice rang out over the tavern, creating an instant lull in the noise.
‘The pyre will be lit now, please gather in the village square.’
‘Oh thank you Master Shacklock! I could kiss him!’ Phantom exclaimed, exhaling a huge sigh of relief.
‘That might work,’ mused Mistral. ‘I think even Eudora would know that you were immune to her charms then.’
Phantom shot her a filthy look and joined the crowd streaming out of the tavern. They gathered around the pyre in village square, talking in muted voices. True to his word, Fabian did not leave her side for a moment. Wrapping his arm protectively around her while they waited for the Divinus to begin the proceedings. Looking up at the pyre, Mistral could see that Konrad’s body was already in place, still wrapped in his cloak.
A respectful silence descended with the arrival of the Divinus. The crowd parted to allow the frail figure to walk slowly towards the base of the pyre. As before, he was flanked by the two figures of Malachi Nox and Mycroft Casterton.
‘Discipline, courage and strength; the qualities of a warrior –’ the Divinus began to recite the same words she had heard spoken at Bali’s funeral. Mistral turned her head to whisper in Fabian’s ear.
‘Where are the Lieutenants? Last time they carried the body and built the pyre. How come it’s Gleacher this time?’
‘I cannot say for certain until I have spoken with Leo, but I imagine that they have been dismissed for failing to split the pack and nearly causing the decimation of an entire year of apprentices.’
‘Oh!’ Mistral exclaimed quietly, trying to hide a smile at the piece of good news. ‘Ne
xt year just got a bit better then!’
Fabian chuckled softly and pulled her closer to his side.
As the Divinus spoke of respect Mistral heard a definite snort of disgust from Xerxes. She glanced over to see him stood with his arm around a pretty blonde girl, looking very pleased with himself.
The Divinus finished speaking and lit the funeral pyre. Flames leapt hungrily at the dry wood, quickly enveloping Konrad’s body in a fiery blaze.
‘Come on, let’s get a drink,’ Saul said, abruptly turning his back on the burning pyre and walking through the already thinning crowd back to The Cloak and Dagger.
‘You owe me one,’ Mistral reminded him, walking back hand in hand with Fabian.
Saul smiled, ‘Pint for the lady then?’
The tavern quickly filled with villagers, warriors and the soon to be Qualified apprentices. The mood lightened as the barrel gradually emptied with Floris becoming more red-faced and harassed by people clamouring to be served. Saul passed her a tankard and she nodded her thanks, raising it to take a long swallow. Feeling emotionally wrung-out by the intensity of the day, Mistral sighed with relief when the alcohol struck her empty stomach and spread through her body in a warm glow. Leaning back contently against the bar she gazed across the noisy tavern. In amongst the familiar faces were one or two unfamiliar ones. From the wide-eyed stares they gave everyone around them Mistral guessed that they were new arrivals to the Valley, here for Registration. She looked at them curiously; had she and the others all looked so blatantly new when they had arrived a year ago? Taking another drink from her tankard, Mistral began to reflect on the long year she had spent in the Valley and couldn’t help but envy her brothers, growing more rowdy with the alcohol and the realisation that their training had finally finished. For them tomorrow’s Qualification Ceremony was merely a brief formality to be suffered before the wild celebrations that would surely follow. Mistral sighed to herself and thought about the promise she’d made to Fabian to commit to another year.
Preoccupied by her thoughts, Mistral didn’t notice a heavily scarred warrior approaching them until he spoke to Fabian, greeting him as an old friend. Keeping one arm loosely wrapped around her waist Fabian began a quietly spoken conversation with the warrior, someone he obviously knew from his past. Mildly curious Mistral listened with half and ear to their murmured words but they seemed to be discussing a recent Contract the warrior had taken in the Southern Range and she allowed her attention to wander. Her mind drifted back to the hunt, running it through her mind over and over, trying to see a way they could have done things differently.
The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) Page 64
