The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  ‘I’m so glad that’s sorted out.’ Brutus said heavily. ‘Now can we please get on with the plan?’

  ‘Ah, details, how they bore me.’ Xerxes reached into the top pocket of his jerkin and bought out a folded piece of parchment. ‘One Contract.’ he unfolded it with a flourish and laid it on the table.

  Brutus immediately picked it up and began reading it, a small frown creasing his brow as his eyes slid over the Requirements section.

  ‘Time for my patented pre-Contract pick me up.’ Cain pulled a battered silver hip flask from his saddlebag followed by a stack of small cups made from horn. Setting six of them onto the table he proceeded to pour out a measure of dark liquor into each one.

  ‘To a good hunt.’ Cain raised his cup with a wink in Mistral’s direction and tilted the contents into his mouth with a satisfied sigh.

  ‘Good hunt!’ the others echoed, downing their drinks and pulling faces.

  ‘You know Cain, I think you need to do something with the flavour. It’s worse than the last one!’ Saul gasped.

  ‘What is in that?’ Mistral choked as the liquor scorched her throat and sent a fire burning through her empty stomach.

  ‘It’s a little something I brew myself to a secret recipe, although I will admit to adding a touch of manticore poison to give it a little extra kick.’

  ‘Isn’t that stuff illegal?’ Mistral asked with a frown.

  ‘Probably.’ Cain shrugged dismissively. ‘Want another?’

  ‘Yes please.’ Mistral promptly held out her horn cup. ‘It seems to be curing my hangover quite well.’

  Saul shot her an anxious look, ‘Er, is that wise Mistral? Remember what happened last time you had manticore poison in your system?’

  Mistral stuck her tongue out at him and downed the cup Cain filled for her.

  ‘Fine, no more, I promise – but honestly Cain, that stuff could make the dead get up and walk! It’s fantastic!’

  ‘I know.’ Cain agreed smugly. ‘I have quite a flare for brewing … in fact, I was thinking of going into the apothecary business when the time comes for hanging up my sword.’

  ‘Retire already?’ Mistral exclaimed, looking horrified. ‘I haven’t even managed to finish my damned training and you’re talking about pipe and slippers!’

  ‘Not quite yet!’ Cain laughed and shook his head. ‘But I like to plan ahead. There’s a store up for sale in the village and I was thinking about putting a deposit down on it. I could rent it out till I’m ready to quit. Don’t you have a plan Mistral?’

  Prospero whined and laid his heavy head on Mistral’s knee, soaking the leg of her trousers with drool as he eyed the platter of meat on the table. Absent-mindedly dropping another couple of slices of cold beef onto the floor for him Mistral drummed her fingers thoughtfully against the table-top.

  ‘I haven’t really thought about the future. I can only manage to think as far as getting through this year; but never mind that!’ she said with sudden brightness. ‘Let’s talk about this hunt! Are cyclops attracted to female scent like manticores are? If so, I’ll get going now and start leading it to you –’

  ‘Told you giving her that stuff was a bad idea.’ Saul muttered to Cain, casting a dark look at Mistral’s over-enthusiastic face.

  ‘Come on Brutus! How long does it take to read a few lines? What are the Requirements?’ Mistral demanded abruptly.

  ‘Just a second,’ he murmured, tracing his finger along a line of writing. ‘This bit is worded very strangely –’

  ‘Who bought the Contract?’ Cain asked, looking up interestedly while Brutus concentrated on reading through the details.

  ‘Don’t know. Scrimshaw gave it to me himself yesterday when I reported back in. Said it was urgent and … this is the really good bit … money up front and not in lieu of training fees!’ Xerxes replied.

  Saul frowned, ‘Sounds shady.’

  ‘But don’t half the Contracts we take?’ Xerxes grinned. ‘Come on, it’s a cyclops – aren’t they protected by Council law or something? It’s probably some rich vineyard owner who’s getting his crops decimated by the thing and wants rid of it without going through the rigmarole of following official Council procedures for moving on a dangerous protected species.’

  ‘Who writes these damned things?’ exclaimed Brutus. ‘Listen to this … upon the auspicious culmination of this Contract a considerable bonus shall be bestowed upon all Contracted Parties for the additional procurement of the optical organ of the subject … what the hell does that mean?’

  ‘They want us to bring back the eye,’ said Cain thoughtfully. ‘They’re used in some really obscure banned potions.’

  ‘It sounds like Scrimshaw has a side-line going in black market apothecary goods!’ Xerxes exclaimed. ‘The crafty old devil!’

  ‘Who cares!’ Mistral burst impatiently. ‘Can we just get out there and kill it now please?’

  They regarded her silently for a second, noting with trepidation her tapping fingers and raised eyebrows.

  ‘You’re really susceptible to manticore poison aren’t you?’ Cain said with a slightly awed look on his face.

  Saul sighed, ‘I think it just boosts her natural levels of recklessness.’

  ‘Alright, so … the plan.’ Xerxes banged both hands against the table top. ‘We need bows, crossbows and poison to tip the arrows and bolts. Grendel? Can you pick up a couple of coils of rope and six of those really long spiked polearm things … what’re they called Saul?’

  ‘Sarisas.’ Saul gave an approving nod. ‘They would be useful in keeping it at bay.’

  ‘Right, destination; it’s in the Western Range … about a couple of hours ride by the look of the map. So we get there, track it, and then lure it onto a trap –’

  ‘I’ll do that!’ Mistral interrupted, earning a panicked look from Saul.

  ‘As I was saying,’ Xerxes continued in a louder voice, ‘we lure it – or drive it using the sarisas, into a trap of us armed with longbows, shoot it with poisoned arrows and get out of the way sharpish while the poison takes effect. We only need the crossbows for back up, or if we need to shoot it on the move … all in agreement?’

  Brutus, Cain and Saul’s noises of assent were drowned out by Mistral’s shout of annoyance.

  ‘No way!’

  ‘Why not?’ Xerxes asked in a weary voice.

  ‘No fighting? Are you mad? We shoot it with poisoned arrows and wait for it to die? Where’s the fun in that?’

  ‘Mistral.’ Xerxes fixed her with a hard look. ‘This creature is more than twice your size and could probably rip your head off with one hand. We’re going to fulfil the aims of the Contract and return alive and richer. Are you really so desperate to burn in the village square that you want to pick a fight with a cyclops?’

  Mistral scowled and crossed her arms.

  ‘I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.’ Saul muttered to Brutus. ‘Is there any way we can leave her behind? Mage De Winter doesn’t strike me as the kind of person that’ll appreciate having his girlfriend returned to him in pieces.’

  ‘I heard that!’ Mistral snapped, switching her malevolent glare onto him. ‘Try to leave without me and it’ll be the last thing you do Saul!’

  Saul wisely kept his mouth closed and held his hands up in defeat.

  ‘Right, everyone ready?’ Xerxes asked, rising to his feet.

  ‘About time!’ Mistral leapt up and strode towards the door.

  ‘I know you used to carry a bit of a torch for her.’ Cain murmured to Saul as they watched her stalking towards the stableyard. ‘But I really can’t help but feel you had a narrow escape. That Mage is a brave man.’

  Saul said nothing but gazed after Mistral, his expression unreadable.

  A short while later they were leading their horses out from the stables, nodding briefly to the Equus when he appeared from the feed room to greet them.

  ‘Going out early.’

  ‘Hunting!’ Mistral confirmed happily and pulled herself
up into the saddle. Cirrus wheeled excitedly and tossed his head, picking up on her buoyant mood.

  The Equus raised a craggy eyebrow, ‘Your Mage away is he?’

  ‘Sorry Clovis. Got to go!’ Mistral called over her shoulder and kicked Cirrus into a fast trot out of the stableyard, closely followed by Prospero.

  Mistral’s mood soared as they cantered along the path leading to the North Gate. Since the start of her second year she’d barely left the Valley apart from for a couple of tracking Contracts and to ride out to the mountain house. Even though Fabian, her keeper, had gone she still felt constrained. The twins were spending more and more time in the company of Mycroft Casterton, ostensibly to further their knowledge of Council politics and current affairs but Mistral felt it was more to enjoy the warmth and comfort of Mycroft’s lavishly furnished tower room. Well let them have warm toes; she was going to have some fun for a change.

  She ignored the worried glances she caught Saul throwing her. Nothing was going to dampen her spirits today. It wasn’t raining for once and she was heading out of the Valley on a hunting trip with her brothers. Even the constant ache of Fabian’s absence was dulled by the prospect of the day’s prey.

  ‘Tell me everything you know about cyclops Cain,’ she demanded, cantering Cirrus up alongside his dappled grey mare.

  ‘Cyclops? Well, they’re Greek in origin, as you probably know. There’s only one tribe of them on the Isle, up in the Northern Range, and it took a lot of careful negotiating before Mage Grapple agreed to them coming here ... to call them violent would be like calling you a little bit feisty … anyway, the fact that this one is on completely the wrong side of the Isle to the rest of its tribe makes me think it’s either gone renegade or been cast out; either way it doesn’t say a lot for its general good nature.

  ‘The single eye doesn’t hinder them in any way at all, in fact, they’re rumoured to have sharper eyesight than yarthkins. They’re strong, bloodthirsty and incredibly tolerant to pain. In short, they make perfect warriors. Fortunately for us they are also pretty stupid so it shouldn’t present too much of a challenge –’

  ‘There you go, spoiling it all again by saying that!’ Mistral exclaimed crossly. ‘I’m tempted to race up there and have a go before you lot come along and spoil my fun!’

  Cain sighed and watched Mistral kick Cirrus on to ride ahead, ‘Oh dear. This could get a bit lively.’

  They slowed to a trot at the North Gate, waving a respectful greeting to the guard positioned high up on the gate. Once out in the meadows they headed west, riding hard, and were soon travelling through the sloping pasturelands that skirted the Western Range. Mistral had only been through this part of the region on a handful of occasions, one of them being the fated troll hunt that had ended in Bali’s death. Shaking off the memory Mistral focussed instead on the day ahead, smiling darkly at the thought of getting into a fight with a savage beast twice her size.

  The heavy pounding of Grendel running up beside her snapped Mistral from her adrenaline-fuelled musings. She turned to greet him, noting a bundle of long, sharp pointed polearms tucked under one arm that she guessed must be the sarisas.

  ‘Still not found a horse big enough then brother?’

  ‘The Equus is on the case.’ Grendel grunted in response, not even out of breath while he kept pace with Cirrus.

  ‘Didn’t know he had any elephants in his herd!’ Xerxes called out, grinning widely and riding up alongside the half-troll.

  Mistral laughed and Grendel scowled angrily. Muttering something uncomplimentary about elves he dropped back to run behind them leaving Xerxes and Mistral riding together.

  They rode together in companionable silence for a few minutes until Xerxes turned to look at her, his face uncharacteristically serious, ‘Promise me you won’t do anything reckless today Mistral.’

  Mistral stared at him in disbelief. She was used to that type of behaviour from Fabian and the twins, but Xerxes? Who was he kidding? She snorted and kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, refusing to even favour him with a disdainful look.

  ‘I have a lot of respect for Mage De Winter.’ Xerxes continued. ‘I wouldn’t want to anger him in anyway –’

  ‘I think you’ve made your point!’ Mistral snapped. ‘I’m beginning to think everyone would be happier if I locked myself in my room where it was nice and safe until Sight decided to magically reveal itself to me! Well tough brother, because this hunt may well be the only bit of fun I get to have all year and if I get the chance to stick my sword into that cyclops I’m damned well going to, and you as well if you get in my way!’

  Urging Cirrus into a gallop Mistral pulled away from him and charged ahead, jumping a low stone wall and thundering across the pasture land ahead of them.

  ‘That went well.’ Saul commented drily as he rode up beside Xerxes.

  Xerxes frowned and watched her galloping Cirrus flat-out across the field with Prospero racing along behind her.

  ‘I told you that you should have had a word with her, she’d listen to you.’

  ‘No she wouldn’t.’ Saul sighed. ‘I think even the twins would fail to make her see reason today. We’re just going to have to try and keep her from doing anything too stupid.’

  ‘Good luck with that.’ Xerxes muttered grimly.

  Mistral pushed Cirrus on, urging him to gallop ever faster, leaning over his neck and revelling in the sensation of the powerful horse plunging forward. She could hear Prospero’s panting breaths as he kept pace behind them; the double beat of his heavy paws and Cirrus’ hooves in time to her pounding heart. Before long she had left the others far behind and slowed Cirrus to a steadier pace, letting Prospero run alongside and catch his breath. Her irritation at Xerxes had faded but she still felt perplexed by his attitude. Was he afraid of Fabian? Surely it was up to her to deal with any anger Fabian may or may not have for her going on the hunting trip, not Xerxes! Anyway, if Fabian was so keen on protecting her all the time then where was he? Not with her, obviously.

  Bitterness and self-pity washed over her. He could leave the Valley whenever he wished but he expected her to remain there, safe and bored, like some caged pet. With a burst of anger Mistral kicked Cirrus on again, suddenly determined to find the cyclops before her brothers caught up.

  She rode higher, the stone-walled pastures of wary sheep giving way to steep rows of grape vines. Mistral slowed Cirrus to a walk and examined the passing terrain more closely. A small village lay further down the mountainside. Smoke rising from the chimneys showed that it was inhabited. There was no way the villagers would be happily going about their day-to-day business if a cyclops had taken up residence nearby. Knowing she had further to go, Mistral pushed Cirrus on again. The scenery swept past her in a green blur, the horse’s powerful strides carrying them further into the mountains. The surrounding land grew wilder. There were no longer any fields of vines or even pastureland, just a wide sloping expanse of rocky ground broken by the occasional scrubby patch of gorse. The ground soon became too uneven for Cirrus to continue at such a past face and Mistral was forced to slow him to a steady trot.

  The silence of the mountainside was absolute, a ringing pressure on her eardrums that amplified every tiny sound to the volume of a thunderclap. The soft thudding of Prospero’s paws, his steady panting, the rhythmical beat of Cirrus’ hooves, the creak of leather and even the noise of her own raised heartbeats all became as loud to Mistral as the din of battle.

  The might of the Western Mountain reared up before her. It was a sight she had witnessed many times from the balcony of the mountain house but even familiarity could not rob the dramatic peaks of their majesty. Timeless, vast and effortlessly humbling, the sight of them never failed to render her into awestruck silence.

  Realising that this meant she was nearing her destination Mistral wrenched her eyes away from the fierce beauty of the mountain peaks and reined Cirrus to a walk, letting him pick his way through heaps of fallen rock while she studied their surroundings for any sig
ns of the cyclops. The going was slow and Mistral quickly grew frustrated. Pulling Cirrus to a halt she turned to look up at the mountainside, studying the grey-faced rock with an impatient eye. There was little to see, only several heaps of loose rubble that spoke of recent rock slides. When Cirrus slipped and stumbled on the gravelly edge of one slide Mistral quickly decided to go ahead on foot. She halted him and glanced around for a suitable place to tether her horse. A slight motion on the mountainside caught her roving gaze. Her first thought was of another rockslide but when her eyes focussed on the source she let out a gasp of delight.

  As grey and misshapen as the rock it was climbing down the cyclops gripped at the mountain face with huge three-fingered hands, moving steadily towards the ground. Mistral watched it tearing out chunks of granite, creating holds that would take its weight. She realised with a burst of awe that the rocks around her weren’t from a slide. They had been gouged from the mountainside by the cyclops’ hands.

  Mistral stared at the massive grey-skinned creature, taking in a muscular back and shoulders that implied formidable strength. Her eyes travelled down over the powerful legs, noting thick talons protruding from the back of its heels which would no doubt prove dangerous to anything within range of its feet.

  ‘Prospero. Guard.’ Mistral ordered quietly and swung down from the saddle. There was no way she was risking her horse and her dog against the huge beast in front of her.

  Drawing her crossbow she fitted a bolt and moved quietly away from Cirrus and Prospero to kneel on the ground. She levelled her crossbow and waited, holding her breath to keep her aim steady. Her plan was simple. The moment the creature turned around she would fire the bolt straight into its single eye and blind it … then she would be able to go in on foot and finish the job with her swords.

  The cyclops reached the base of the rock face. Mistral felt the earth beneath her tremble when it leapt the last few feet, landing with a shuddering thud. Turning with surprising agility it suddenly spun to face her, nostrils flaring wide to inhale the warm scent of horse and dog. For a split second Mistral froze, transfixed by the huge single eye in the centre of the creature’s forehead. Massive, unblinking and completely black, it gleamed with an unspeakable evil that deepened when it locked onto Cirrus and Prospero.