The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (16 page)

‘How’re your
stitches Brutus?’  she asked when she’d settled herself onto a chair next
to Phantom.

‘Sore,’ he
complained.  ‘But nothing that won’t stop me going out this afternoon!’

‘How was your
morning?’  Phantasm asked her politely.

‘Oh knock it
off, you know it was vile.  I spent the last two hours boiling toad’s
livers!’  Mistral scowled at him and took a drink from her tankard.

‘Never mind,
just this afternoon and tomorrow to go and you’ll be toad-liver free!’ 
Phantasm smiled.

‘I don’t think
so!’  Mistral snorted.  ‘I’m not missing a hunt to spend an afternoon
skinning rock lizards!’

Phantasm fixed
her with a severe look, ‘You can’t keep openly flaunting Master Sphinx’s orders
Mistral!  Don’t push him, he didn’t get where he is today by being a soft
touch!’

‘What do you
mean by that?’  Mistral frowned.   

‘Has it not
struck you how much younger than the rest of the Magnate Master Sphinx
is?’ 

Mistral
shrugged, ‘Not really given it that much thought.’

Phantasm sighed
and muttered something about “details”.

‘Look, you
know that my punishment was completely unjust, and anyway, I should only be
doing half a day today – its Saturday!  We finish at noon and, well, I’ve
finished!’  Mistral argued. 

‘We could
always tell Serenity that you’ve had a relapse and couldn’t make it back for
duty,’ Phantom offered helpfully.

‘Don’t do
that!’  Mistral said looking horrified.  ‘She’ll have me tucked up in
one of those damned beds drinking extract of toad’s liver before you can
blink!’ 

Before
Phantasm could argue back Xerxes burst through the door and hurried over to
them looking uncharacteristically flustered.

‘Sorry I’m
late – had to listen to one of Barak’s lectures about not using training
sessions as an excuse to try and kill my brother –’ 

‘I should
think so too,’ sniffed Brutus.

‘Sorry about
that, brother – but you really should have been wearing your armour.  You
know I’m the better swordsman –’ ignoring Brutus’ murderous look, Xerxes
clapped his hands together briskly.  ‘Now!  Down to business!’ 
He sat down, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.  ‘So, for
those of you that were unfortunately absent from last night’s fine card game –
which you still owe me some silver for by the way Saul – you won’t know that a
farmer from one of the mountain villages was in the tavern toting for a warrior
to hunt a manticore that’s picking off all his sheep.  Well, none of the
warriors that were in would touch it with a barge pole.’

‘Why not,’
interrupted Phantom suspiciously.  ‘I’d have thought a manticore was small
fry to one of them.’

‘I’ll get to
that bit in a minute,’ said Xerxes evasively.  ‘Anyway, we fell to talking
and I’ve agreed to hunt it for him ... well, with a bit of help from you lot
too.’

Mistral nodded
enthusiastically.  Manticores were reclusive mountain-dwelling beasts; it
would be a challenging hunt.

‘And how much
is this Contract worth?’  Phantasm asked, creating a lull in the sudden
burst of excited conversation.

Xerxes looked
shifty, ‘Well, there’s no actual money involved with this one.  But he has
given us three barrels of cider by way of payment, so we’re guaranteed a good
celebration when we get back!’  he added quickly.

The twins
exchanged a look.

‘I don’t think
we’ll be going,’ said Phantasm bluntly.

‘There’s no
way I’m tangling with a manticore just for some cider.’  Phantom agreed
fervently.

‘What?’ 
Mistral cried.  ‘It’ll be a great chance to hunt something a bit more
challenging than deer and rabbits!’

‘Not for free
it won’t.’  Phantasm muttered. 

Xerxes pursed
his lips and regarded the twins thoughtfully, ‘Would it change your minds if
you had the manticore after we’d hunted it?’

‘Look nice
stuffed in your room,’ Mistral quipped flippantly.

Phantom
favoured her with an exasperated look, ‘Don’t be ridiculous Mistral! 
Manticore pelts can fetch a good price!’   He turned to Xerxes.
 ‘Yes, I think that would be acceptable, count us in.’

Xerxes
grinned, ‘Good, so here’s the plan.  The manticore is picking off the
flock grazing over the upper western pastures, so we can safely assume that
it’s den is up in the Western Range – has anyone dealt with a manticore
before?’  Xerxes asked looking around at them all intently.

Mistral shook
her head.  She had only heard stories about the powerful lion-like creature. 
They were reputed to have faces with almost human features and tails tipped
with poisonous spines.  But since all of this had been told to her by the
villagers in Nevelte she was inclined to disregard it as fanciful rubbish and
said nothing. 

‘I have.’ 
Konrad’s sepulchral voice made them all look around at him in surprise. 
It was rare for the unsociable apprentice to join in a conversation.  They
all gazed at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

‘And?’ 
Xerxes prompted when Konrad didn’t appear to be about to expand any further on
his knowledge of the beast they were going out to hunt.

Konrad stared
into space, seeming to recall some distant memory, ‘They’re big and savage and
have a strange call … not what you’d expect.’

Konrad lapsed
back into silence and the apprentices stared at him in anticipation.

‘Well – what
do they sound like?’  Xerxes asked when it became apparent that Konrad
wasn’t about to continue.

Konrad fixed him
with his dead-eyed stare, ‘They look like lions but they don’t roar.  They
sing –’

‘Was it
difficult to hunt?’  Mistral interrupted, growing bored.  Listening
to Xerxes trying to drag details out of Konrad was painful.

Konrad
switched his cold unblinking gaze to her, ‘No,’ he said quietly.  ‘They
leave tracks similar to a mountain lion, only the spoors are larger. 
Arrows and bolts are a good way to kill them, swords too but it’s not advisable
to get that close.  Their claws are vicious and they have two extra rows
of teeth and you’d do well to mind the tail.  It has poisonous spines at
the end.’

Mistral
blinked.  Had she actually learned something from her time in Nevelte that
may become of some use?

‘They sound
delightful,’ muttered Phantom into his tankard.

‘Don’t they
just,’ agreed Mistral, her eyes shining with sudden excitement.

‘Right,
everyone got their swords and crossbows?  And are you all ready for the
possibility of a night in the mountains?’  Xerxes asked, looking around
questioningly and grinned in satisfaction at the enthusiastic nods he
received.  ‘Good!  Let’s get going then!’

With a sudden
uplift of spirits, the apprentices grabbed their saddlebags and surged out of
the door, talking and laughing loudly they hurried across the village square
and into the stableyard.  Mistral listened to their shouted questions to
one another and smiled; stealth was definitely not one of their strong points.

‘Have we got
food for tonight?’  Brutus called out.

‘All
sorted!’  Saul replied.

‘Not from the
Refectory is it?’  Brutus asked anxiously.

‘No
fear!  Floris put us something together!’  Saul laughed.

‘Wine?’ 
Xerxes checked.

‘Yes!’ 
Cain called out, grinning and winking at Mistral.  ‘With no extra
ingredients this time!’

The
apprentices hastily tacked their horses and left the yard in high-spirits,
trotting out of the Valley under the baleful gaze of the guard high up in his
lookout on the North Gate.  It was midday and the sun was directly
overhead in a cloudless azure sky; for once there was no sharp mountain breeze
blowing, making the day pleasantly mild.  They rode through the rolling
foothills of the Western Range, enjoying being free of the confines of the
Valley and the routine of training.  Mistral rode next to the twins who
were discussing in low voices how much to ask for the manticore pelt. 
Mistral listened to their conversation with half an ear but was content to gaze
idly around at the other apprentices.  Xerxes was arguing good-naturedly
with Cain over the game of cards from the previous evening; Brutus was moaning
to Saul about his brother; Saul was nodding seriously but when he caught
Mistral watching them he winked at her and she laughed.  Konrad was riding
in silence next to Bali who had unusually elected to come with them on the hunt. 
Grendel was keeping pace with them by their side on foot as the Ri didn’t breed
horses large enough to carry his bulk.  The only apprentices missing were
Columbine and Golden of course; but then Mistral reasoned that they probably
hadn’t been asked.

‘Did Columbine
get any sort of punishment for trying to kill me last night?’  she asked
Phantom, interrupting their conversation.

‘Oh yes,
didn’t we tell you?’  Phantom said with a grin.  ‘Master Sphinx
bawled her out and gave her a week’s punishment detail!’

‘That’s no
punishment!’  Mistral exclaimed angrily.  ‘She’ll be right at home in
a pigsty!’ 

‘Oh no,’ said
Phantom loftily.  ‘It’s far worse than that.’

‘The
Tannery?’  Mistral guessed.

‘No, worse
than that too!’

‘The Infirmary
then?’

‘No,’ said
Phantom looking smug.

‘Well she
already puts up with Golden, which was the next one on my list so … I give
up!’  Mistral looked at him, frowning.

‘Sure you give
up?’  Phantom teased.

‘Yes! 
Just tell me or I’ll beat it out of you!’ 

‘She’s working
in the Laundry all week!’  Phantom announced happily.

Mistral burst
out laughing, ‘I sincerely hope she falls into one of the vats of Grendel’s
clothes and dies from asphyxiation!’

They climbed up
into the higher pasture land, passing through a small mountain village where
the locals greeted them politely.  Ri warriors were respected rather than
feared this close to the Valley.  Mistral gazed at the low stone-walled
pastures where the sheep were quietly grazing, scanning the steeper, rocky land
higher above for any obvious signs of a large animal’s den. 

‘You can see
why the manticore moved in here,’ she said quietly to Phantom.  ‘Look at
all the natural caves in the rock up there.’ 

Phantom looked
to where she was pointing and his face fell, ‘If we’ve got to go poking around
in each one of those for the damned thing we’re definitely going to be up here
all night!’ 

He was right,
beyond the pasture land the mountain rose steeply in a series of rocky plateaus
like huge steps rising up to the sheer-sided summit, offering a multitude of
possibilities for any manticore seeking a den.

Bali and
Konrad had dismounted and were walking ahead of the other apprentices, studying
the ground intently.

‘See any
tracks yet?’  Xerxes called impatiently.

‘See what I
mean?’  Brutus muttered to Saul.  ‘He’s so impatient!  He
wouldn’t even wait for me to go and get my armour this morning … just launched
straight in and tried to kill me!’

Saul nodded
absently, his eyes glazing over slightly.

‘Oh come on
Brutus, it was only a scratch!’  Mistral said, rolling her eyes. 
‘Phantom’s had worse shaving cuts!’

Saul laughed
and Brutus looked offended, kicking his horse on to ride at the front.

‘Tracks!’ 
Bali’s called loudly and immediately everyone’s attention was fixed on the
quiet apprentice. 

He raised his
hand to signal a halt and they all immediately dismounted and led their horses
over to where Bali and Konrad were stood, staring down at a patch of damp earth
in the shade of a low-growing gorse bush.

‘See here –’
Bali said, squatting down and pointing to a series of large indentations in the
soft earth.  Mistral stared and could just make out the shape of large paw
print.

‘It’s a large
adult, probably male … they tend to be bigger,’ murmured Konrad in his
colourless voice.  

The twins
shared a significant look making Mistral smile; they were no doubt thinking of
how much more they would be able to charge for such a pelt. 

‘It headed up
this way,’ said Bali, standing up and peering up into the mountainside above
them.  ‘I suggest we make a camp near here and go up on foot.  We’ll
split into two groups.  One stays here and the other climbs.  That
way we’ll double our chances of finding it before nightfall.’

Turning suddenly
to Konrad, Bali began to ask him questions in a low voice.  The other
apprentices drowned out the sound of their quiet conversation with a noisy
debate about who would stay in the pasture land and who would climb. 

‘There is no
way I’ve risked being expelled from the Valley to camp the night in a
field!’  Mistral said adamantly.  ‘I’m going up the mountain and
that’s final.’

‘Well Brutus
can’t go since he’s too badly injured,’ said Xerxes sarcastically. 

Brutus scowled
and opened his mouth to argue but Phantasm cut in smoothly.

‘Actually, it
would be useful to have one of you here.  You two are the best with a
bow.’

Brutus looked
slightly mollified and consented to stay.  It was true; the brothers were
half-elves and had literally grown up using the traditional longbows. 

As Bali and
Konrad were the most experienced trackers it was agreed that one should go with
each group.  It was no surprise to any of them that Konrad quietly offered
to remain in the pasture land with Brutus.  Phantasm and Phantom made no
bones about not being interested in risking their necks climbing up a
mountainside which just left the delicate situation of what to do about
Grendel.

‘It’s the
stench!’  Saul whispered to Mistral while they tethered their horses next
to the twins’ bay geldings.  ‘I mean, he’s so strong he’d be a bonus to
either group if the manticore attacked – but let’s face it, the manticore is
more likely to take one whiff of him and move out faster than a speeding
arrow!’