The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (30 page)

‘What’s his
connection with the Valley?’  Mistral asked.  ‘I’ve seen him there a
couple of times now.’

‘Mage De
Winter is a Ri assassin Mistral.’  Phantasm said quietly. 

‘Reputed to be
the best on the Isle actually.’  Phantom added.  ‘Has been for
years.’

Mistral had
nothing to say in response to that and fell silent.  The twins started a
conversation between themselves, some aimless piece of gossip they’d heard
about one of the Magnate.  Mistral wasn’t interested, her thoughts were
full of the dark figure of Fabian De Winter; the Mage who was also a Ri
assassin.  What would make a Mage train with the Ri?  Sorcerers
formed the ruling class of the Isle.  They held positions of power, had
wealth and status ... he was no dispossessed half-breed seeking sanctuary in
the Valley, but member of the Mage Council, of Noble descent ... yet he chose
to live the life of a warrior.

Mistral stayed
lost in her musings until they stopped at noon to rest their horses.  They
sat beneath the shade of a huge oak tree at the edge of the forests while they
shared a meal and talked about the route they would take for the
afternoon.  Mistral was all for cutting through The Velvet Forests and
shortening their journey but neither of the twins wanted to risk running into
the pack of Blackheart Wolverines that Leo had warned them about.

‘They’re just
big dogs!’  Mistral argued and picked exasperatedly at some cold
rabbit.  ‘Anyway, I’ve hunted wolves before and they wouldn’t tackle three
of us, they’re not that brave.’

‘These are
Blackheart Wolverines Mistral,’ said Phantom in a condescending tone. 
‘Hardly your average lapdog.  Those things will take down a bear on their
own and quite frankly, I don’t fancy our chances against a whole pack of them.’

Mistral sulked
while the twins packed up the remains of the lunch.  She’d spent a lot of
time in The Velvet Forests and had never come across anything that she couldn’t
handle.  Leaving the twins to finish clearing up Mistral stalked off to
untether Cirrus and thought sourly that the twins could possibly be in the
wrong profession if they were worried about a couple of wolves. 

They mounted
up and rode on, travelling north west around the outskirts of the forests as
per their instructions from Leo Sphinx.  The twins chatted happily across
Mistral who was riding between them in sullen silence.  The closer they
journeyed towards Nevelte, the more depressed she began to feel.  She
couldn’t believe that she was being forced into going back to the one place
she’d been so desperate to escape from. 

Looking back,
Mistral wondered why she had actually stayed so long in the village she
loathed.  Although, if the truth be told, most of her time had actually
been spent in The Velvet Forests or trekking on a horse borrowed without the
owner’s knowledge.  Despite her increasingly extended absences Mistral had
always eventually returned, however briefly, to the cottage.  It was still
home to her until the day she packed her meagre belongings and left for the
Valley.  She realised that something had always held her back from
completely leaving the home that Brothertoft and Elnora had given her.  It
wasn’t love for the old pair, although they‘d always been good to her.  It
was something else, something Mistral couldn’t quite explain and, try as she
might, she couldn’t quite shake the odd notion that she had been simply waiting
for her destiny to become clear to her.  Occupied by her thoughts, it took
Mistral a while to notice that the twins had fallen uncharacteristically silent. 

‘What’s
wrong?’ she asked, noticing that both their faces were rigid with tension.

‘We’re being
tracked.’  Phantasm muttered, barely moved his lips.

‘Look at the
treeline on our right, but try to be subtle!’  Phantom hissed.

Mistral didn’t
turn her head but looked out of the corner of her eye at the edge of the
forests.  At first she couldn’t see anything but the dapple of light and
shade under the canopy of the branches.  After a few seconds she noticed
an indistinct shape, too slim and tall to be an animal, sliding through the
shadows keeping pace with them.

‘I see it,’
she murmured.  ‘But what is it?’

‘Not it,
them.  Elves,’ breathed Phantasm, keeping his gaze fixed steadfastly in
front of him.

Mistral
frowned.  Ri Warriors were guaranteed safe passage through any territory
in the pursuit of their work.  It was written in the laws of the
Isle. 

‘Why are they
tracking us?’ she whispered.

‘Don’t
know.  Hope we don’t have to find out.’

As if in
answer to his mutter they all immediately heard the unmistakable sound of an
arrow whistling through the air and the dull thud of its metal head burying
into the earth a short distance away from them.  A warning shot had been
fired.

The startled
horses snorted and wheeled nervously; fighting against their riders. 

‘Rein them
in!  We must remain where we are,’ hissed Phantasm urgently.  ‘If we
run they will shoot us down!’

Cursing
herself for not wearing her armour as they were always advised to do, Mistral
fought to control Cirrus.  But her wilful horse had other ideas, he rolled
his eyes wildly and reared, trying to escape the danger he instinctively
felt.   

‘Sometimes I
wish I had fallen for something a bit more docile,’ she growled and sawed at
the reins, fighting to bring his head down. 

The more
biddable Jupiter and Mars were soon back under control.  Influenced by the
two steadier horses Cirrus gradually calmed down and consented to stand almost
still, allowing Mistral to fractionally loosen her grip and ease the screaming
tension in her arms. 

‘They’re approaching.’
 Phantasm whispered, staring at the treeline with narrowed eyes.

Mistral
followed his gaze to see half a dozen elves walking towards them, each armed
with the distinctive longbow they favoured. 

‘Let me do the
talking,’ he added swiftly.  ‘I think we can negotiate our way out of this
alive, or they would have shot us before now.’

Mistral felt a
chill of fear run through her.  She hadn’t appreciated how dangerous their
situation was until Phantasm said those words.  Looking again at the
approaching elves, Mistral studied them carefully.  They were all males,
tall and lithe, moving with the athletic grace of their race.  Their hair
was long and fair, tied back at the nape of the neck to expose their wild
faces.  As they drew closer Mistral could see that they had obviously been
travelling for a while; there were leaves in their hair and their traditional
leather trousers and rough woven tunics were dirty and torn.  She hoped
they weren’t a renegade group of outcasts, she didn’t fancy their chances
against six of the notoriously fierce forest elves. 

‘Hail
brothers,’ called Phantasm in a clear confident voice.

‘Hail to the
Ri!’ responded one of the elves.  His voice had a pleasing musical quality
to it, like a silver bell being struck; it was in complete discord with the
expression on his face, which was hard and mistrustful. 

The group of
elves came to a halt a short distance away from the three apprentices and the
elf who had spoken stepped forward to address them again.

‘Why are you
in our territory?’ he asked in his ringing voice.

‘Just
travelling through, brother,’ replied Phantasm smoothly.  ‘Our Contract
requires our presence further away and this was the best route.  We
apologise if we caused any offense; I assure you it was unintentional.’

The elf
regarded him coldly, ‘What is the nature of your Contract?’ 

‘Brother, you
know that is information I am unable to divulge.’  Phantasm responded in a
regretful tone.

‘Maybe so, but
answer me this: are you Contracted to slay one of my kind?’

‘No we are
not.’  

‘Do you know
of such a Contract being issued within the last two moons?’

Phantasm made
a show of thinking for a moment before shaking his head, ‘I do not,’ he replied
sincerely.

The elf
studied Phantasm for a long moment and then nodded, ‘I believe you are telling
me the truth.  You may continue your journey with no further opposition
from us – but warn your brothers!  A Ri warrior took one of our own not
two moons ago and we will have revenge.’

‘I hear you
brother, thank you for our continued safe passage,’ said Phantasm quietly and,
without speaking to either Phantom or Mistral, he urged Jupiter on.

Shooting one
last curious glance at the elves Mistral followed after him.  She could
feel their eyes boring into the back of her head as she rode away, making the
hairs on her neck stand on end.  It felt unnatural to turn her back to
danger.  Mistral tensed, expecting at any moment to hear the sound of a
bow being drawn; her hand twitched automatically for the crossbow hung on her
saddle.

‘Don’t even
think about it,’ warned Phantasm in a low voice. 

They rode at a
slow pace in total silence until Mistral felt the prickle of fear subside and
knew instinctively that the elves had gone.  Risking a glance over her
shoulder, Mistral confirmed her suspicions.  The meadow and the treeline
behind them were clear.

‘They’ve
gone,’ she said with a relieved sigh and turned back to face the twins. 
‘Now can you please tell me what that was all about?’

‘Not yet,’
muttered Phantasm.  ‘We need to put a bit more distance between us and
those elves before we can speak freely; their hearing is phenomenal.’

They did not
speak again until it was late afternoon and the heavy warmth of the autumn sun
forced them to move closer to the trees again to ride in the shade. 

Phantasm
looked around cautiously; his green eyes narrowed in concentration while he
studied the woodland around them.

‘This is not
tribe territory.  It’s safe to talk now,’ he finally muttered.

‘How can you
tell?’  Mistral asked, looking around curiously.  The stretch of
forest around them looked exactly like any other to her.

‘Elves leave
signs; warnings to other tribes that this is their territory.  They are
very hard to see unless you know what you are looking for.  Our tribe of
sylvads have a similar system; we’ve been passing markers for the last couple
of hours but they’ve stopped now.’

Mistral
absorbed this clue to the twin’s past in silence.  It was not the right
time to quiz them about their upbringing but she was intrigued and made a
mental note to ask them about it when the opportunity arose. 

Phantom looked
at his brother and frowned, ‘Who would take out an Assassination Contract on a
tribal elf?’  

‘I don’t know
who would order one,’ said Phantasm looking thoughtful.  ‘But I think I
know who carried it out.’

‘Who?’ 
Mistral asked.

‘Well, two
moons ago was just over two months in my estimations, elves always work things
out by the lunar calendar which can be a bit misleading, however by my
reckoning, that was when we took the Contract to hunt the troll.’

Mistral fell
silent while she recalled the different Contracts that had been issued that
day.  She called up a clear image in her mind of all the apprentices
gathered eagerly outside of Gleacher Shacklock’s office.  Grendel had been
given a herd of escaped Bonacon, Golden got to escort a Council Official and
Konrad –’

‘Konrad!’ 
Mistral gasped as she remembered the perpetually moody apprentice walking past
her clutching a Contract written in strange brown ink that had actually been
blood.  ‘He took an Assassination Contract that day, I remember it!’

Phantasm
nodded but Phantom looked at him with a perplexed expression on his face, ‘We
can’t be certain it was Konrad.  It could have just as easily been a
Contract issued by one of the other Agents in the Valley to any of the warriors
they have on their books.’

‘I
agree.  However, you must admit it is a bit of a coincidence though isn’t
it?’  Phantasm said, giving his brother a meaningful look. 
‘Assassination Contracts aren’t all that common.  What are the chances of
two being taken out at the same time, and so close to the Valley?  Master
Shacklock specifically gives his first year apprentices Contract’s close to the
Valley so that if anything goes wrong they won’t have to search very far for them.’

Mistral
grimaced, thinking of the ride down from the Eastern Range with her leading a
horse carrying Bali’s lifeless body strapped to it.  Things had gone about
as wrong as they could do that day. 

‘Alright, I
admit that it makes sense.  But who would take out a Contract on a tribal
elf?  Another elf?’  Phantom asked sceptically. 

Phantasm shook
his head and looked thoughtful, ‘No, elves don’t need outsiders to do their
dirty work for them.  You saw how they were today!  They would have
had absolutely no qualms about killing all three of us if we’d given them the
slightest reason to suspect that we were involved in their kinsman’s
death.  It would have to be a Mage; someone that wanted to remain
anonymous of course –’ his voice trailed off as he gazed broodingly at the sky.

 A sudden
thought struck Mistral.  ‘Phantasm,’ she began hesitantly.  ‘Did you
lie
to that elf?’

‘Hmm?’ 
Phantasm asked distractedly, still deep in thought.

‘That elf back
there.  You know, the one that wanted to kill us, remember?’  Mistral
persisted, a hard edge creeping into her voice.  ‘You told him quite
clearly that you had no knowledge of an assignation Contract being taken two
months ago – I heard you!’

Phantasm
finally gave her his full attention, ‘Mistral,’ he said in an exasperated
voice.  ‘Lying convincingly is the first rule of survival in Council
politics!  My brother and I grew up watching the experts!  Of course
we can lie well, and anyway, do you really think I could have told those elves
the truth?  They would have killed us on the spot for certain!’