The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  ‘There.’ he murmured softly, raising a hand to point at some invisible object in the black sea. ‘Four sailing ships are about to enter the harbour.’

  Mistral stared at where Saul indicated but saw nothing but the restless motion of the sea, broken in brief illuminations by the occasional white flash of a breaking wave.

  ‘Damn he’s got sharp eyes!’ she muttered to Fabian. ‘I can’t see a thing!’

  ‘You are too impatient, look Mistral, look at the sea –’

  Mistral stared again, fighting the urge to blink from the strain then let out a sudden gasp when the white head of a breaking wave smashed against the dark hull of a sailing ship.

  ‘I see them!’

  Fabian frowned, judging the distance, ‘Too far for our archers.’

  Leo began issuing orders in a low voice and the cliffside was suddenly alive with silent warriors moving quickly to obey his instructions. Xerxes and Brutus dismounted and handed their horses over to the warrior charged with tethering them. Drawing their bows the two brothers joined the other elven-blooded warriors in a long line at the edge of the cliff.

  ‘Archers ready!’

  Leo nodded and turned to Cain, ‘Now.’

  Cain reached into this saddlebag and drew out several black bottles of poison and began passing them to the archers with murmured instructions on how to handle the potent mix. Mistral waited impatiently for her instructions, knowing that she would have to obey his ridiculous order to stay at the back until the battle began and she could join in unnoticed.

  Sure enough, when Leo rode past her and the twins on his way back from briefing the archers he looked at them and barked out a brisk order.

  ‘Mistral. You and the Gemini will take holding positions at the back of the archers. Stay mounted.’

  ‘See you soon.’ Mistral muttered meaningfully to Fabian and rode off.

  Fabian watched her go, his face drawn tight. When she was finally taken from his sight by darkness he turned and rode after Leo. Mistral knew the moment he turned away. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel him. She knew he wanted her to stay where Leo had ordered, but he also knew her well enough to realise that was never going to happen. In her mind Mistral imagined him riding away, the bright gold of his palomino slowly being swallowed by darkness. Sighing deeply she whistled for Prospero, her substitute for Fabian.

  ‘How long have we got to sit here like ornaments?’ she demanded when the twins rode up alongside.

  ‘Until Master Sphinx is suitably distracted by fighting for his life.’ Phantasm replied lightly.

  ‘Let that be soon.’ Mistral growled. ‘He might be related to me now but he’s seriously trying my patience.’

  ‘Oh, he’s not your only new relation. Do you realise that you are now related to Mage Grapple?’ Phantom said casually.

  ‘What are you going on about now?’ Mistral muttered, reaching into her saddlebag to extract a roll of leather strappings.

  ‘He’s Master Sphinx’s father. That makes him some kind of relation to you by marriage.’

  Mistral unravelled the leather strappings with an irritated snap, ‘Oh for crying out loud Phantom, you really need to get a life!’

  ‘If it’s alright by you, I’d like to defend the one I’m currently enjoying.’

  Mistral looked up, ‘Yes brother it is. That’s just what we’re here to do.’

  ‘Shh! The Council are here!’

  Phantasm’s hissed whisper cut across their conversation. They instantly looked up to where the High Moors met the cliffs.

  ‘How many?’ Mistral asked, straining to see through the faint light.

  ‘Looks to be about twenty –’

  ‘Nice odds.’ Mistral muttered after quickly calculating that they were going to be severely outnumbered by the Rochfortes.

  ‘I’m more interested in our chance of survival than Xerxes’ damned odds!’

  ‘Try this for odds then brother. We’ll win or die trying. Either way we won’t have to suffer a Rochforte rule. Where’s your problem?’

  ‘Sometimes I seriously wonder whether you were actually born with an ounce of self-preservation in your body Mistral! Don’t you want a life with your Mage?’

  ‘More than you know. And that is precisely why I would rather die today than accept their rule. They wouldn’t let a half-breed like me even be in the same room as a pure-blooded Mage like Fabian.’

  Phantom leaned over, ‘Talking of which, how come he’s left you alone? I would’ve thought he would be here protecting you.’

  ‘I am.’

  Mistral turned to see Fabian riding quietly towards her.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she asked in an urgent whisper.

  ‘Leo is meeting with the Council’s Captain of the Guard to agree a strategy. Gleacher has control of the archers and will begin our assault immediately.’

  Mistral continued binding the leather strapping over her hands and wrists, ‘You know I’m not staying up here don’t you?’

  Fabian watched the wedding ring he had placed on her finger only hours before vanish beneath the leather battle strappings and nodded tensely.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Archers! Give me light!’

  Gleacher’s voice rang out across the cliff top. The archers immediately drew their bows and released a shower of flaming arrows, flooding the port with sudden fiery light. Mistral hissed at what was revealed. Lit by a burning arc of arrows a mass of dark figures could be seen pouring out from the ships now docked in the harbour, far more than Saul had predicted. Urgent shouts went up at the sudden burst of light overhead and rapid battle formations were made. Rochforte archers knelt swiftly and drew, aiming for cliff top.

  ‘This is no hastily organised act of retaliation!’ exclaimed Phantasm. ‘Look at them!’

  Phantom stared with narrowed eyes down at the figures swarming onto the quayside, ‘I agree brother. That looks more like a carefully planned military operation.’

  The Ri’s flaming arrows extinguished themselves with a soft hiss in the water but they had served their purpose. Both sides now had their targets.

  ‘Reload! Tipped!’

  Gleacher’s iron voice rang out. The archers immediately reached for the bottles of poison that Cain had distributed and dipped their arrows. They drew their bows and waited for Gleacher’s signal.

  ‘Fire!’

  The air was filled again with the whine of arrows and the Ri archers were rewarded with cries as the hail of poisoned arrow struck home.

  ‘Cover!’

  Gleacher’s shouted command was instantly obeyed. The Ri archers swiftly knelt and raised their shields, the whine of incoming arrows swiftly followed by the metallic clangs of arrow heads striking burnished steel.

  ‘Reload!’

  While Gleacher continued to shout battle orders to his archers Fabian abruptly grabbed Cirrus’ bridle and hauled him further back, away from the chance of a stray arrow finding its mark in Mistral.

  ‘We will wait here.’

  Mistral gritted her teeth and stared down at the black quayside below them, feeling ready to explode with the tension of waiting.

  ‘What are we waiting for?’

  ‘Leo.’

  Mistral made an impatient noise and grabbed her crossbow, ‘I think I’ll make myself useful while I’m waiting.’

  She had not swung her leg from the saddle before Fabian grabbed her, yanking her back.

  ‘You will wait here!’

  Mistral jerked round, her eyes blazing, but the cold, uncompromising look on his face instantly made her sink back into the saddle without further argument. Fabian looked like the assassin he had once been and nothing scared her more than turning him into that person again.

  The twins had dismounted and joined the archers. Mistral clenched her fists and watched jealously while they drew their longbows and fired. Fire and cover. Cover and fire. The cycle went on in a drone of arrows being fired and arrows striking metal. Mistral watched, feeling useles
s and frustrated. For the first time in her life she was actually pleased to hear the familiar cold tones of Leo’s voice. He had ridden back to issue battle orders to the Ri warriors massed at the head of the path leading down to the quay.

  ‘We will engage with the Rochfortes directly on the quayside. The Council will remain on the cliffs to cast protective spells over us for the duration of the battle. Their spells will only afford protection against the Craft, not their swords. Standard mounted formation. Swords ready. We go under the cover of the next arrow fire. On my word –’

  Leo paused and waited for Gleacher’s next shouted order to fire. When Gleacher’s iron shout rang out, Leo’s cold voice followed a split second after.

  ‘Warriors! With me!’

  With no sound other than the thunder of galloping hooves and the whistle of arrows flying through the air, the Ri warriors spurred their horses down the hill and onto the quayside.

  Cirrus and Spirit wheeled excitedly, sensing battle. Fabian drew his sword and turned to fix Mistral with his intense black stare.

  ‘Stay by me!’

  ‘I will always be by your side.’ Mistral promised fiercely.

  He held her gaze for a heartbeat then abruptly turned Spirit and urged her after the other warriors. Mistral quickly drew one of her own swords and dug her heels into Cirrus, galloping down the hill to the dark quayside. With a mighty roar the Ri warriors slammed into the massed ranks of Rochforte soldiers and the battle began.

  There was no time to think, only to react. Fabian was immediately attacked by a Rochforte soldier mounted on a heavily armoured horse. Spirit reared in panic as a second soldier smashed his horse into her and slashed wildly at Fabian, forcing him pull Spirit back and defend against both attackers at once. With a shout of fury Mistral pushed Cirrus forwards, barging one of the horses away from Fabian. Snarling into the barely visible face of the rider, Mistral swung her sword around and began to fight, urging Cirrus on with every blow; giving her enemy no respite until she saw the white shine of fear in his eyes and knew she had her first mark.

  The soldier fell to be instantly replaced by another. Before she could raise her sword to strike, Fabian had forced Spirit in front of her, drawing the soldier’s blows. Mistral barely had time to pull Cirrus out of his way before another soldier rode at her, the impact making Cirrus stumble. Off balance, Mistral found herself fighting off a frenzy of sword strikes while Cirrus recovered. The soldier deftly parried her clumsy strikes and caught her outstretched arm with his own blade, slicing into the unprotected skin. Laughing at her shout of pain, he drew his arm up to strike again. Mistral kicked Cirrus hard, ramming him into the other horse and knocking it sideways. Switching her sword to her uninjured left hand, Mistral arced it through the air towards the panicking soldier.

  ‘Mine!’

  A laughing shout rang out above the clamour of battle and the soldier abruptly crumpled, clasping a hand to his throat. Mistral spun round to see Cain grinning at her.

  ‘Get your own damned quota and stop stealing mine!’ Mistral yelled. Cain just laughed and pushed his light grey mare up alongside her, a throwing knife poised ready in one hand and a sword gripped in the other.

  Cain’s mocking laughter was drowned out by the sound of a horse squealing in pain followed by a deep growl. Mistral’s eyes immediately raked the churning sea of horses around her. She couldn’t see Prospero but his guttural snarls were close. Her dog and her Mage were fighting by her side, both protecting her.

  Her Mage.

  Fabian.

  Mistral looked for him, seeing him almost immediately. He was separated from her by Cain, both fighting with Rochforte soldiers. Time slowed, the din of battle faded to a distant murmur. There was nothing but Fabian. The dawn light revealing the face she loved, set in the merciless expression of an assassin. Because of her. All because of her. Mistral felt a pain sharper than any sword cut and yanked Cirrus around, pushing past Cain to fight alongside her husband.

  The cloying stench of battle filled her nostrils; blood and sweat mingled with the burning reek of ozone. Coloured lights flared in the sky where the two sides’ spells collided, bathing the fighting armies in an eerie glow. The Ri warriors ignored the explosions overhead and fought on, shielded by their armour and, unknowingly to them, by the protective spells cast by the Council.

  Dawn broke out across the eastern horizon, shedding pale grey light over the raging living and the silent fallen. Mistral saw their still forms while she fought and hoped none were her brothers, but she had no time to spare for the dead.

  Arrows and spells flew overhead, shouted oaths and the screams of the injured mingled with the ringing clash of steel. In the confusion Mistral thought she heard Prospero’s deep bark but couldn’t see his familiar grey and white body anywhere. Other oddly disjointed noises reached her ears, the crackle of spells being cast, Grendel’s roar, the thud of his battle axe and the clang of iron-shod hooves striking cobbles; but it all meant nothing to her. She was oblivious to everything except the Rochforte soldier before her and the constant presence of Fabian by her side.

  The soldier Mistral was fighting leered obscenely when the growing light revealed her to be a woman. She bared her teeth and raised her sword to strike when a startling explosion of white light flooded her vision. She slashed blindly at the soldier, her sword glancing uselessly against his metal armour. The soldier laughed and struck at her chestplate, driving the air from her lungs with the force of his blow. Winded, Mistral had no strength to raise her sword. She opened her mouth, trying to suck in air to feed her leaden arms when hot liquid suddenly gushed across her face, blinding her, filling her mouth with the coppery taste of blood. Dragging a hand across her face Mistral opened her stinging eyes to see the soldier’s headless body sliding from the saddle. At his side was Fabian, merciless with fury, his blooded sword still raised.

  For a split-second Mistral met his black gaze then lifted her sword once more and turned to meet the soldier that instantly appeared to replace his fallen comrade. Twisting in the saddle, she swung her sword, delivering a heavy blow that struck him across his exposed forearm. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a scream of pain. Pulling his horse sharply backwards, he abruptly turned and forced it back towards the open hold of one of the ships.

  Mistral shouted and gave chase but Fabian was before her again, blocking her path.

  ‘No Mistral!’

  Her reply was an incoherent snarl, her eyes wild, the pupils dilated with battle-fever.

  ‘Look Mistral. See?’

  Mistral tore her furious gaze away from Fabian to see the blood-soaked quay beyond him. She bared her teeth again, this time in a savage grin. The Ri warriors had nearly reached the four docked ships. Fights were continuing in sporadic bursts around the quay, but more Rochforte soldiers were fleeing than fighting. The Ri were winning.

  ‘Regroup!’

  Leo’s bellowed order carried above the diminished noise of battle. The Ri immediately withdrew, galloping back across the quay towards the cliff top path. Sliding her sword back into its holster, Mistral turned to Fabian. No shouted order from Leo would make her leave his side. She would go when he said and not a moment before.

  ‘The Rochfortes are outnumbered now. It is nearly finished.’ Fabian’s eyes moved quickly over the chaos of retreating soldiers. ‘We must go before they reorganise. We’re too close to their archers.’

  Throwing a last fierce glare in the direction of the retreating soldiers Mistral pulled Cirrus around to face the cliffs again. A sudden movement made her instinctively reach for her sword. She spun around see Fabian urging Spirit directly in front of her, his face oddly calm. Mistral heard the noise then, the high-pitched whine of death. Arrow fire.

  Fabian’s body jerked sharply, the force of the arrow’s impact nearly throwing him from Spirit’s back.

  ‘No!’

  Mistral’s scream was a feral shriek, agonised and raw. She fired wildly at the archers then grabbed Spirit’s reins and
hauled the horse after her. Pushing Cirrus into a flat-out gallop she fled across the body-strewn quayside, expecting with every stride to feel the thud of an arrow. She could hear arrows overhead and knew the Ri were returning fire. Under their cover she reached the winding cliffside path and safety. She pulled Cirrus back and looked at Fabian, dreading what she would see.

  He was riding one handed, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side. The long shaft of an arrow protruded clearly from just below his left collarbone. His face was a mask of pain, but more worryingly, he looked as though he were fighting to remain conscious.

  ‘No, no, no!’ Mistral moaned and pushed on again, galloping up the path to the cliff top, yelling for the twins at the top of her voice.

  ‘Mistral!’ Phantasm was suddenly beside her, his pale face streaked with blood.

  ‘Cain! I need – Fabian’s been shot! I –I think it’s poisoned! He keeps sliding under!’

  Phantasm vanished and Phantom swiftly appeared beside her, riding one-handed while he tried to staunch a wound on his neck.

  Mistral stared at him, ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘Arrow nicked me. S’not too bad, but I can’t stop it bleeding.’

  Mistral’s gaze snapped back to Fabian, torn between her desire not to take her eyes off him for one moment and her brother’s obvious need. Fabian was slumped in the saddle, his head was bowed onto his chest but he appeared to be hanging on to consciousness. Mistral reached hastily into her saddlebag and fumbled for her medical kit. Opening it with shaking hands she tugged out roll of linen gauze and a bottle of ointment.

  ‘Here.’ she reached over to press the ointment soaked gauze to Phantom’s bleeding neck. ‘Hold that on. It’ll sting like – oh thank you!’ she gasped suddenly when Phantasm returned with Cain. ‘Help him brother!’

  Cain pulled his horse up alongside Fabian’s and leaned over to examine the wound. He didn’t touch it or even try to remove the arrow and delivered his verdict after mere seconds.

  ‘That’s poisoned. We need to treat it quickly!’

  ‘Where?’ Mistral demanded, staring around wildly. She was dimly aware of Leo shouting orders to organise the warriors for a second wave of attack, but only Fabian mattered now.