The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (27 page)

Mistral felt
her cheeks redden, ‘I might have checked on his aura,’ she snapped, ignoring
their smirks.  ‘But only in the interests of trying to understand the
situation.  I do not pry on people’s emotional states,’ she finished,
glaring at them haughtily and crossing her arms.

‘Of course, we
know that,’ said Phantom in a placating tone, then, more urgently.  ‘But
what did you see?’

Mistral
uncrossed her arms slowly and placed her palms against her knees, she closed
her eyes and called up the image of Fabian De Winter’s aura, clear as if it
were in front her now.  With her eyes still closed she described her
vision.

‘Black, lots
of despair and streaks of purple … that’s frustration … then red, that’s
anger.  Pale green, which signifies sadness or loss; the two are subtly
different, then – ’ she opened both her eyes and pulled a face at Phantasm, sat
on the bed opposite her.  ‘Love,’ she said with a helpless shrug of her
shoulders.

The twins
exhaled in unison, their eyes wide as this small and seemingly irrelevant piece
of information was absorbed into their quick minds.

‘Ah, but of
course,’ said Phantom, leaving his position at the door and walking over to his
brother.

‘That explains
quite a lot,’ Phantasm agreed and slid across the bed to make room for his
brother.

‘Well not to
me it doesn’t,’ said Mistral in an exasperated voice.

‘No of course
not, allow us to continue.’

‘Mage De
Winter is in love with Mage Grapple’s sister.  A woman we met only once,
but she struck us as quite remarkable.  Think of her as a Golden with
guts.  Anyway, she is now the wife of Marcus of St Martine, whom she was
introduced to by none other than our slippery friend Count Putreo Darke. 
I am sure it would amuse him immensely to thwart Mage De Winter in any way he
could since–’

‘There really
is no love lost between the two families.  It’s a blood feud that goes
back centuries; a most fascinating tale, but–’

‘The tale of
the two tribes is not one that we have time for now.  So, to our final
question, why us?’

‘Staggeringly
simple I’m afraid.  We’re unqualified and therefore not registered with
any Agents which means that should we fail we are–’

‘Untraceable. 
The Ri would be blameless.  And should, by some miracle, we succeed in
whatever Master Sphinx has planned for us then the Ri can remain anonymous and
continue running its own show without any interference from the Council. 
And finally, sadly, we are totally–’

‘Expendable.'

The three
apprentices sat in heavy silence as that last, incontrovertible truth, sank
in.  Mistral was shocked.  Was life really of so little value to
their Training Captain?  Had he really become so numbed by years of
administering and carrying out Contracts that he no longer cared what means he
used to achieve the desired outcomes?  Leo had always given her the
impression of being a strict but fair Captain.  He pushed them hard in training
but never beyond their capabilities and didn’t seem to  relish others’
physical pain in the same way his Lieutenants did.  Had she really been so
mistaken? 

Leo was
suddenly like a stranger to her, as cold and aloof as the shadowy figure of the
Divinus.  She was struck again by how young he was to hold such a powerful
position.  He must have been a very impressive warrior to have risen
through the ranks of the Ri to be a member of the Magnate so quickly.  A
wave of angry betrayal enveloped her.  Leo was no better than the scheming
Count Putreo Darke!  He too had no qualms about cruelly using others just
to advance his own career.  A sudden thought struck her and she gasped
excitedly.

‘Wait a
minute!  To hear is to sign right?  Well we haven’t heard have we, so
we haven’t signed!  Surely we can just go back and thank Leo very much for
considering us for whatever it is he wants us to do, but respectfully decline
due to our lack of experience … or something like that –’ 

Mistral leapt
off the bed and looked eagerly at the twins, her sudden surge of hope ebbing
when she took in their glum expressions.

‘Hmm, we’ve
been thinking that one through too ourselves,’ said Phantasm quietly.

Phantom rubbed
his forehead distractedly, as though he had a headache, ‘And we don’t really
think we can decline this one – whatever it is.’
      

‘I don’t
understand!  We haven’t heard the details, surely we can decline! 
It’s our right!’  Mistral was almost shouting in frustration.

‘Did you hear
Master Sphinx’s parting words to us?’  Phantasm asked in an
uncharacteristically sharp voice.

Mistral
frowned, ‘Of course I did!  He said he’d give us an hour, so what?’

Phantasm let
out an exasperated sigh and Phantom rolled his eyes, ‘When will you learn to
listen?’ they chimed in unison.  ‘It’s always the details that matter.’

Phantasm
lapsed back into brooding license while Phantom continued speaking, ‘Master
Sphinx’s exact words were “I
invite
you back in one hour”.  Do you
see the emphasis is on the word
invite?
  I don’t think it’s a
coincidence that we three have all made it known to him, as our Training
Captain, that we wish to continue as apprentices into the second year.’

‘And a second
year happens only by
invitation
from a member of the Magnate and must be
seconded by the Training Captain,’ finished Phantasm bitterly.

‘Oh,’ Mistral
sank back down into the bed.  She had seriously underestimated Leo
Sphinx.  He was far more devious than she’d given him credit
for.  

Phantasm took
a deep breath and stood up.  He began pacing the small room, watched by
Mistral and Phantom.

‘So,’ he
began, still pacing, ‘to summarise.  We can decline the Contract and
effectively ruin any chances we have of continuing our apprenticeships into a
second year and doom ourselves to a career of low-grade Contracts of –’

‘Pest control,
being a mercenary and other insalubrious work,’ finished Phantom glumly.

‘Or,’
continued Phantasm, pausing to turn and look at the other two.  ‘We could
accept the Contract and –’

‘Or we could
tell him to stick it and leave the damned Valley for good,’ muttered Mistral,
looking mutinous.

Phantasm and
Phantom both turned to look directly at her, their gazes pitying.

‘I am sure you
know that is not an option,’ said Phantom solemnly.  ‘That would make us a
terrible liability to both Mage De Winter and Master Sphinx.  Think about
what we have already seen and heard tonight.  A member of the Mage Council
here in the headquarters of the Ri confessing to having information of
treachery on the part of another member?  Mage De Winter could not risk us
taking that information to Count Putreo and asking for protection ... which
would be the only safe thing to do by the way.

‘Master Sphinx
has not achieved a position of such responsibility and power simply through
being handsome and handy with a sword.  Do not be fooled Mistral, he’s as
cold and ruthless as any of the assassins he’s trained.  He would not
think twice about having us eradicated to ensure our silence.’

Phantom lapsed
into a gloomy silence, his words, although quietly spoken, rang in Mistral’s
ears.  She felt angry and bewildered.  Everything she had been
certain of was suddenly alien to her.

‘Leo wasn’t
giving us time to consider out of generosity was he?’ she asked dully. 
‘He wanted us to work out for ourselves that we were trapped so that he didn’t
have to incriminate himself by spelling it out to us.’

The twins had
obviously reached the same conclusion and nodded silently.  

Mistral
suddenly threw her hands up in exasperation, ‘Look, this is stupid!  We
could be getting all wound up over nothing!  It’s got to be a simple
Contract hasn’t it?  I know the bigger picture is a mess but
surely
all we’ll get is a small role to play?  I mean, we’re not trained to do much
more than dispatch hairy trolls and swamp dragons are we?’

Phantom looked
at her thoughtfully, ‘You may have a point there,’ he conceded finally. 
‘My guess is that we’ll get to be some sort of messenger service – deliver a
cryptic warning to Mage Grapple that he’s being set-up, or something along
those lines.’

‘See?’
 Mistral cried.  ‘A messenger service!  That can’t be too
hard!  Surely we can do this?’

Phantasm
frowned and shook his head slowly, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ he repeated
uncertainly.  ‘Something just doesn’t ring true here; there’s a lie
somewhere … we are being used, I’m sure of it.’

Mistral
snorted, ‘Oh come on!  You see conspiracies everywhere!  Anyway, I
thought you had it sussed?  We’re “expendable” or something aren’t
we?  Anyway, let’s look on the positive side,’ she said, suddenly
brightening up.  ‘We wanted to go to The Desert Lands for that mercenary
work didn’t we?  Well, the way I see it, we have a win-win situation; you
breeze in and meet the Head of the Mage Council and practise your smooth talk –
and if you stuff up we get the chance to go abroad for a fight!’

Phantasm shook
his head in disbelief, ‘It really is that simple to you isn’t it?’

‘Pretty much,’
she grinned.   

The twins
shared a long look before sighing in unison.

‘Ready?’ 
Mistral prompted eagerly.

They nodded
mutely, their faces resigned. 

Mistral
bounded to her feet in a single motion, ‘Good!  Let’s go tell Leo he’s got
a deal.’

The three apprentices
left the room, closing the door quietly behind them before making their way
back along the stone passage. 

In no time at
all the three apprentices were back outside the closed wooden door to Leo
Sphinx’s tower room.  After a moment’s hesitation it was Mistral who
lifted her clenched fist and gave two resounding knocks on the door.  The
noise echoed loudly, mimicking the booming of her raised heartbeats. 
Phantasm’s reservations about the Contract made Mistral feel slightly nervous
but she was resolute.  And in some strange way, the situation had a
feeling of inevitability that gave her enough confidence to carry her over the
threshold and into the chilly torchlit room again. 

Leo welcomed
them in with a cold smile, ‘Welcome back.  Please be seated.’

Fabian De
Winter was stood with his back to them, gazing out of the long window into the
black night.  Most of the torches in the tower room remained unlit and the
light was so poor that he barely cast a reflection in the glass but Mistral
couldn’t help staring at him as she walked over to the table.  Leo waited
until they were seated then sat down opposite them.  A pot of ink and a
quill had been placed onto the table since their last visit.  Mistral’s
eyes were drawn to Leo’s hand which rested lightly over a piece of parchment;
the Contract.

‘Tell me,’ he
said, leaning forward on his elbows and locking his fingers together. 
‘What is your decision?’

Without
glancing at the others, Mistral spoke.  Her voice was clear and firm.

‘We will
accept the Contract.’

Mistral
noticed that Leo raised his eyebrows briefly.  She thought with a spurt of
anger that he was probably surprised that it was she who had responded and not
one of the more eloquent twins.

‘Very
well.  Fabian, would you be so kind as to join us?’

Fabian De
Winter made remained a frozen statue by the window.  As the silence
stretched into seconds Mistral wondered if Leo would be forced to do the
unthinkable and repeat his request then Fabian abruptly turned.  His gaze
fell upon her and it was all she could do not to gasp out loud.  His eyes
were burning black pits set in a mask of torment.  He seemed to have aged
ten years in the single hour since they had last seen him and moved with slow
steps to sit beside next to Leo. 

Leo did not
look at him but continue to stare coldly at the three apprentices, ‘Your
decision has been made.  You accept the terms that will be binding.’ 
he pushed the piece of parchment across the table towards them.  ‘Please
sign so that we may proceed with the details.’ he sat back in his chair,
regarding them silently with folded arms. 

Mistral picked
up the Contract and scanned it quickly.  She barely read most of the
Contracts issued to her by Gleacher Shacklock, trusting instead in his
judgement.  As the words slid meaninglessly under her eyes Mistral knew
she had made a terrible mistake in being the one to accept the Contract. 
The twins were much more adept at deciphering the complicated language used in
Contracts.  Mistral felt a bubble of anxiety rise up inside her and
realised that once again, she had backed them into a corner.  If she
passed the Contract to them and asked them to read it she would make herself
look woefully inept and she was determined not to display any kind of weakness
in front of Leo Sphinx.  Mistral took a deep breath and reached for the
quill.  Willing her hand not to tremble and betray her, she dipped the
quill into the pot of black ink then wrote her name across the bottom of the
Contract.  She watched the ink drying on her scrawled name then slid the
Contract over to the twins for them to sign. 

Phantom signed
it without a second glance and passed it to his twin.  Mistral thought she
saw a frown flicker across Phantasm’s face as his eyes swept over the Contract,
but he signed it with his usual flourish and folded it neatly before sliding it
back across the table to Leo.  

‘Good,’ said
Leo in a satisfied voice.  ‘Now, down to business.  You will need to
pack swiftly, I recommend the following provisions –’

While Leo
listed the variety of weapons, supplies and clothing they would need Mistral
felt her attention slide.  She was always bored by details.  Feeling
a sudden irresistible desire to look at Fabian De Winter’s aura again Mistral
glanced at the silent Mage.  He was such an enigma to her, his obvious
suffering and dark brooding features drew her like a moth to a flame. 
Fabian was staring into the gloom of Leo’s tower room with a tortured
expression on his face, not seeming to pay any attention to what Leo was
saying.  She focused on the air around his head once more and his aura
quickly became visible, shimmering out of the half-light like a rainbow in a
grey sky.  Contrary to his facial expression, bright pinks and golds shot
through with silvery blues surrounded his dark tousled hair.  Mistral
frowned and concentrated harder, confused by what she was seeing. 
Suddenly, Fabian turned his head and looked straight into her eyes with a
jolting, shocking intensity.  Their gazes locked and Mistral knew that she
should drop her eyes, look away; try to pretend that she was actually listening
to Leo’s inventory, but she felt utterly compelled to stare straight back into
those burning black eyes.  A second as long as a minute, an hour even,
passed before the corner of Fabian De Winter’s mouth twitched into the smallest
semblance of a smile and he snapped his gaze back to staring off into the
gloom. 

Mistral
blinked and quickly looked down at the table while she struggled to gather her
thoughts.  Her heart was thumping so fiercely that she was sure the others
could hear it.  Had anyone noticed?  Mistral tried to listen to Leo’s
voice above the pounding of her heartbeats.  With a burst of relief she
realised that he was still talking about which weapons to take and seemed to be
deliberating between a  goblin forged dagger or a longer, curved version
favoured by the fighting elves of the north.  Mistral tried to focus on
what he was saying, but everything seemed utterly irrelevant compared to what
she’d just experienced. 

What
had she just experienced?

Another second
longer than a lifetime ticked past while Mistral tried to force her stupefied
mind to function rationally.  Fabian De Winter was, after all, a powerful
Mage.  Had he weaved some sort of illusionary spell over her?  She
didn’t think so.  There was no tell-tale ozone scent in the tower room to
indicate that any spells had been cast.  Was he a Seer too?  Mistral
quickly discounted that idea too.  In her one brief meeting with the
Divinus he had told her that true Seers were rare.  Mistral doubted a
creature as all knowing as the Divinus would have failed to have noticed
another Seer in Fabian De Winter. 

Then
what
had she had felt? 

‘Now, down to
the details!’  Leo’s voice suddenly cut across her thoughts, dragging her
back to the cold room and their looming fate. 

‘As with all
overseas Contract work, our travel arrangements have been approved by the
Council.  It might surprise you that there have been no questions raised,
but perhaps when I tell you that Count Putreo Darke is, rather conveniently,
the Councillor responsible for authorising foreign travel you will understand
how this has happened.  So, for the time being, Mage Grapple is ignorant
that he is sending his warlock army to do battle with the Ri. 

‘Now, time is of
the essence.  Mage Grapple and his army of warlocks are already heading
down from the Council stronghold in the north.  His most likely
destination is a small port on the south east corner of the Isle, known only to
the locals.  Mage Grapple docks his warship there to avoid drawing
attention to his actions.  The port is called Blackneath –’ Leo stood up
and strode across the room to where a large piece of parchment was pinned onto
the stone wall.  Mistral noticed for the first time that it was a map of the
Isle.  ‘There,’ he pointed to an insignificant dip in the Isle’s coastline
on the south eastern side.  ‘Travel north west towards The Velvet Forests
– but stay on the outskirts of the forest itself.  I’ve been receiving
reports of a large pack of Blackheart Wolverines hunting in that area. 
Now, try to cross paths with Mage Grapple and his army here,’ Leo pointed to an
insignificant black dot on the map, ‘at the small rural village of
Nevelte.  It’s a Mage settlement, so he might stop to rest the horses there.’

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.