The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (26 page)

‘Oi!  You
three!  Master Sphinx wants to see you in his room now so look
sharp!’ 

They turned
immediately to see the surly face of Barak glaring at them.

Sharing a
wide-eyed look, the three apprentices immediately hurried up the path to the
dorms.

Fabian De
Winter and Leo Sphinx were seated around a small wooden table.  Fabian De
Winter’s head was bowed, his fingers digging like claws into his tangled dark
hair.  Leo was watching him dispassionately.  He lifted his gaze to where
Mistral, Phantasm and Phantom were stood silently in the open doorway.

‘Come in and
close the door behind you,’ he said quietly and indicated to a number of low
stools and chairs scattered around the table.   

Lifted out of
his reverie by the sound of stools scraping across the stone floor, Fabian De
Winter raised his head out of his hands and stared bleakly at the three
apprentices.  Leo did not speak as Fabian continued to gaze at them
silently, his wintry look slowly changing to one of incredulity, then
anger.  Finally he turned to Leo and spoke in a scathing voice.

‘I break
every
law and statute to come here tonight ... and you respond by bringing me
apprentices
?’ 

Leo looked at
Fabian for a brief moment, his expression inscrutable, before turning his
attention to Mistral, Phantasm and Phantom.  As he looked intently at each
of them in turn, Mistral suddenly remembered Phantasm’s comment about how young
he was to hold such an important position – a member of the Magnate in the Ri
at what age?  She couldn’t tell.  Leo was blessed with the kind of
pale complexion that would make most women jealous.  To Mistral he was
simply her Training Captain; she admired his weaponry skills but that was all,
unlike Golden, who seemed to hang around him like a bad smell.

‘This meeting
is strictly confidential, am I understood?’ he asked them in a brisk tone,
snapping Mistral out of her musings.

They nodded
silently and Mistral was relieved to see that the twins, normally not short of
a word or two, felt the same way as her about keeping silent.

‘Good,’ he
said with a satisfied nod. 

Rising to his
feet he began to stride rapidly back and forth across the stone flagged floor,
his hands clasped behind his back and his head bowed in thought.  Fabian
De Winter watched his pacing silently, a blank look on his waxen face. 
Mistral took advantage of his distracted attention to concentrate on his
aura.  She was intrigued by the brooding Mage and wanted to know why a
member of the Council would risk being inside the headquarters of the Ri. 
Whilst it was not exactly forbidden by law, it was definitely frowned
upon.  Mistral focused on the air around Fabian De Winter’s head and
allowed her mind to go blank.  Breathing calmly she forced her body to
relax and her mind to empty of all thoughts ...

Like heat haze
over hot ground in summer, Fabian De Winter’s emotions began to shimmer as
visible colours in a halo around his head.  At first all Mistral could see
was a swathe of black, broiling angrily like the contents of a cooking pot. 
Slowly, other colours began to appear in the swirl of black despair, violent
spurts of purple and red, frustration and anger, then, deeper in towards the
middle of the halo a tinge of palest green edged with soft pink began to
emerge.  Mistral blinked in surprise and the vision was gone.  Had
she seen right?  Sadness definitely, and … no it couldn’t be ... but there
was no mistaking that pale pink colour; love.

‘A situation
has arisen –’

Leo’s
business-like voice snapped Mistral’s attention back to her Training
Captain. 

‘And I have
suggested to Mage De Winter that you three would be most suited to bringing
about a rapid solution.’

Phantasm and
Phantom glanced briefly at each other.  Mistral did not need to look at
them to know that they were sharing an openly dubious look.

Leo did not
give any sign of noticing their expressions but paused in his pacing to stand
and look out of the long mullioned window cut into the south facing wall of the
room.  He paused for a moment then continued to speak with his back still
turned to them.

‘I understand
you were not able to take the mercenary Contract tonight, however, all may not
be lost yet.  Now, just to make sure you are fully versed of the
situation, King Rufus has engaged in battle his neighbouring monarch, Marcus of
St Martine over the rights to rule the Calescent Desert –’

Mistral
suppressed the desire to roll her eyes; did she really have to hear about the
damned mercenary Contract again?  It was a bit of a sore point to say the
least.

‘But what you
probably don’t know is why.

‘Rufus is
labouring under the misapprehension that there are vast stocks of a very
valuable mineral sat under that accursed sandpit, just waiting to be
mined.  I say misapprehension because the information came to him from the
ever devious Count Putreo Darke –’

Fabian De
Winter made a noise in the back of his throat like a growl.

‘Not directly
of course,’ Leo continued in a cold voice.  ‘Putreo would never dirty his
own hands – he has a very able spy on his payroll.  But, what should we
care if some megalomaniac king wants to wage a half-baked war on his
neighbouring monarch?  If the fool pays well for our services then let
them fight!  However –’

He wheeled
around to face them, startling them with the angry gleam in his eyes.

‘Putreo is not
interested in this war; there is no mineral under those sands!  Marcus of
St Martine is sure to respond in kind but his army is much smaller, and Rufus
has taken the precautionary step of hiring all of our available warriors,
leaving Marcus only one course of action –’

He paused and
looked over at Fabian De Winter, who was staring fixedly at the darkened
window, a look of utter despair on his face.

‘His wife,’
finished Leo quietly.

Phantasm and
Phantom exchanged knowing looks while Mistral stared blankly at Leo.  She
had no idea who Marcus of St Martine was married to or how the woman was going
to be any good in this rather pointless and doomed sounding war, unless she was
an exceptional warrior.

Fabian De
Winter spoke for the first time since his earlier outburst, his voice low and
strained.

‘Emiror ...
his wife, is also the sister of the Head of the Mage Council.  Mage
Eximius Hieronymus Grapple.’

Phantasm and
Phantom nodded knowledgably and Mistral looked at them both in
frustration.  She couldn’t see how being the sister of Mage Grapple would
help at all.  Would it be too much to ask, she thought angrily, for
someone to explain what the hell this is all about?

Seeing her
expression, Leo continued in a hard voice.

‘Marcus will
ask Emiror to contact her brother for assistance.  Her brother is certain
to comply willingly,’ a note of bitterness crept into his normally professional
voice.  ‘After all, she is his only living relative.  ‘Mage Grapple
will send in the Council’s elite warlocks, and they will fight on the side of
Marcus of St Martine –’

‘Against the
Ri,’ finished Fabian quietly.

‘Exactly. 
So as you can see, this has to be stopped –’

‘Why?’ 
Mistral interrupted, frustrated by the feeling that everyone was talking about
something she knew nothing about.

Leo frowned
and fixed her with a cold look, ‘I apologise, I forget that the twins’
fascination with Council politics is not universal to all apprentices,’ he
murmured in a slightly patronizing tone.

Mistral
absorbed the insult and kept her face composed.  She instinctively felt
that this was not the time to lose her temper.

‘Allow me to
explain,’ Leo continued icily.  ‘When the Isle was united under Mage
Grapple the Council ruled that the Ri could exist separate to their control on
the strict understanding that under no circumstances would the two engage in
combat.  The Council knew that the Ri were equally as powerful, both
physically and politically, and that any warfare between the two would
effectively divide, and perhaps destroy, the delicate balance of the
Isle.  By forcing Mage Grapple to send in warlocks, however unwittingly,
to fight with Ri mercenaries, Count Putreo is very subtly suggesting that Mage
Grapple is not fully aware of all that is happening on the Isle; or more specifically,
what the Ri are involved in.’

Fabian dragged
his gaze away from the window and looked at Leo, anger resonating from every
inch of his body.

‘Putreo will
send the Ri to their deaths just to scheme his way into power!  He
believes that by showing the Council how incompetent Mage Grapple is they will
turn to him for guidance and make him the new Head.’

‘I suspect
that he also seeks to bring the Ri under the control of the Council,’
interjected Leo quietly.

Phantasm and
Phantom exchanged more significant glances.

‘Why would
that be so bad?’ asked Mistral, catching their reaction.

Leo regarded
her speculatively before he answered, ‘The Ri has always striven to train their
apprentices to the best of their individual abilities, and through the use of
Agents, ensure the Contracts they undertake are monitored and legitimate.

‘Under the
rule of the Council, we would have no freedom.  We would be paid by the
Council, trained by the Council, overseen by the Council ... the Magnate would
be disbanded … in short, we would become puppets of the Council, doing the
dirty jobs that they do not want to be seen doing and risking our lives for
their gain.’

A heavy
silence fell as they the all took on the seriousness of the situation. 

‘And how
exactly can we help to resolve this?’

Phantasm and
Phantom looked at Mistral.  She could tell by their expressions that they
were thinking exactly the same thing.  Just how on earth could three
unqualified apprentices prevent the calamity that was looming?

Leo studied
them appraisingly for a long moment.

‘To hear is to
sign,’ he murmured enigmatically.  ‘I invite you back in one hour.’
 he walked to the door and held it open. 

The three
apprentices stood up and filed silently past him.  Although she knew she
shouldn’t, and couldn’t say why she did it.  Mistral glanced over her
shoulder to look at Fabian De Winter.  He was staring out of the darkened
window again, lost in his own thoughts – thoughts she suddenly wanted to know.

Once they were
outside in the cold and dark corridor again the three apprentices hurried in
silence down the narrow winding staircase leading them away from the tower
room.  The dull thud of Leo closing his door echoed along the stairwell,
matching the pounding of their hearts.  Without turning to look at either
of the others or pausing, Phantasm murmured,

‘Our room?’

Mistral and
Phantom nodded in agreement and sped up slightly, running lightly down the
spiralling stone stairs and along the passageway to the twins’ room.  Once
inside, Phantom double checked that the corridor outside was clear before
closing and carefully locking the door.  He leant against the firmly
bolted door and raised his eyebrows meaningfully at his brother, sitting
cross-legged on one of the narrow beds. 

Mistral slowly
lowered herself onto the other bed.  Her thoughts were buzzing like angry
bees, making it hard for her to focus on what had just happened.

‘Well!’
 Phantasm exclaimed quietly, holding his brother’s questioning gaze.

‘Indeed.’
 Phantom responded with a knowing nod of his sleek blonde head.

‘Well indeed
what exactly?’  Mistral demanded, irked by their superior attitudes. 
‘In fact, don’t bother, as I’m pretty sure your explanation will just leave me
even more in the dark than I already am.  So, just do me a favour and answer
three questions: what does “to hear is to sign” mean?  What is
with
Fabian De Winter and Mage Grapple’s sister and just what the hell do they think
we can do about the whole damn mess?’

Phantasm and
Phantom exchanged another infuriatingly superior look before they began to
speak together, as they so often did; their sentences flowing smoothly with one
carrying on where the other finished with no visible indicator given of when to
begin speaking.  It was slightly eerie and usually Mistral complained when
they did their whole ‘Gemini’ act, but tonight she was too frustrated by the
lack of answers to even notice.

‘”To hear is
to sign” is a phrase used between Agents and potential clients, particularly
when a case is –’

‘Of a
sensitive nature.  Sometimes merely knowing the details of a potential
Contract can be too dangerous and therefore the Agent is literally bound to
undertake the Contract for one of their warriors just by hearing what it
entails.’

‘Master Sphinx
knows we are inexperienced –’

‘Which is putting
it mildly to say the least!’

‘He was being
generous by giving us time to consider our options before hearing the details
and unwittingly committing ourselves to the Contract.’

‘As to your
second question, well,’ Phantasm paused and looked at Mistral with raised
eyebrows, ‘I would have thought you would be better able to answer how Mage De
Winter was feeling than either of us, or were you just admiring his hair cut?’