The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (14 page)

BOOK: The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)
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‘Look,’ she
muttered to Saul and pointed to the flattened out areas of moss.  ‘Those
goblins have left a trail the Divinus could follow and he’s blind!’

Saul laughed
softly and looked around at the surrounding trees, pausing to run his fingers
over the exposed bark of the nearest one, ‘They’re obviously not used to living
in woodlands.  The trees have been scuffed by something, a backpack maybe.’

‘Or the body
of one of their victims,’ Xerxes growled over his shoulder.

Bali signalled
sharply for silence.  Rolling her eyes at Bali’s back once it was turned,
Mistral and Saul moved on in silence again. 

They left the
denser forest and stepped onto a clear path that wound its way through the tree
trunks.  Continuing at the same careful pace they trekked further into the
heart of the forests for another hour; the tension mounting with every minute
that passed until Bali suddenly raised his hand and signalled for them to halt.

‘They’re
here!’  he hissed and drew his sword.

Mistral and
Saul both looked around eagerly, their eyes raking the walls of green moss
covered trees on either side of the path.  

‘Where?’ 
Mistral demanded in an urgent whisper, turning in a slow circle with Saul at
her back; she could see nothing.

The tense
silence was abruptly broken by a hoarse yell and suddenly every tree around
them was alive with dark objects swarming along the branches and down the
trunks.

‘From
above!’  Bali shouted as goblins leapt down from the branches, landing
with muted thuds on the mossy ground.

Mistral
quickly assessed the goblins now surrounding her and Saul.  Dressed in
coarse woollen shirts and leather trousers, the goblins were short but had broad
shoulders and long muscular arms.  Returning the snarl of the goblin
nearest to her, Mistral reached for her swords and was suddenly knocked to the
ground by something heavy dropping down on her.

Suddenly
Mistral was rolling on the wet forest floor, brawling with two goblins. 
Training drills went out of the window as Mistral resorted instinctively to the
rough skills she’d learned in Nevelte; biting, kicking and punching at the
goblins trying to force their long fingers around her throat.   

‘I got your
back!’  Saul yelled. 

She felt one
of the goblins lift from her and immediately groped for her dagger. 
Yanking it from her belt she thrust it awkwardly into the goblin pinning her to
the ground.

The goblin
shrieked and suddenly the pressure on her throat was gone.  Mistral kicked
the goblin’s body off and leapt to her feet.  At once two more goblins
sprang at her.  She fought them off, slashing mercilessly into their
leathery skin until her hand was slick with blood and they finally stumbled and
didn’t get up again.  Mistral shoved her dagger back into her belt and
drew her sword.  Stepping over the two fallen goblins she joined Saul to
fight back to back with him.  She could hear the sounds of fighting all
around her; shouted warnings and the occasional wild laugh mingling with the
goblins’ shrieks. 

The goblins
fought savagely but apart from a handful that had swords, they were mostly
unarmed and no match for the sharp swords of the apprentices.  When Saul
and Mistral had turned fully in a circle twice and seen nothing to attack, they
slowly lowered their swords and stepped apart.

‘It’s over,’
Saul said, sounding almost disappointed. 

‘Damn! 
That was fun!’  Xerxes exclaimed, wiping his sword clean on mossy tree
trunk.  ‘Are there any more?’  he asked, looking around hopefully.

Bali was
walking quickly amongst the heaped goblin bodies, occasionally thrusting his
sword in to ensure that they were dead.

‘No. 
There are twenty five here, which is enough of the band to ensure that any survivors
won’t be causing a problem anymore.’

‘How many did
you get Grendel?’  Xerxes called to the massive apprentice throwing three
more dead goblins onto the pile at Bali’s feet.

‘Five,’
Grendel grunted.

Xerxes let out
a low whistle, ‘Beats my tally ... Mistral?’

‘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?’  Mistral 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.

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