The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  ‘Didn’t you fancy fish for breakfast boy?’ Mistral reached out to rub Prospero’s ears. He wagged his tail once then collapsed at her feet and promptly fell asleep.

  Saul gazed over at the sea of tents, rippling lightly in the breeze, ‘So she’s still out there, somewhere.’

  Phantasm’s scowl had given way to a worried look, ‘I don’t think you should race this morning Mistral.’

  ‘Forget it brother. I’m racing. Anyway, I’ll be safer surrounded by a couple of hundred Arcanes than I will be sat here waiting for her to crawl up and murder me!’

  Phantasm regarded her stubborn expression then sighed, ‘I suppose you may have a point there.’

  ‘Talking of the race, it’s time we got the horses ready.’ Brutus stood up and tied back his hair.

  ‘I assume it’s unarmed?’ Mistral asked, sliding her favourite dagger down inside one of her fur-topped boots.

  ‘Naturally.’ Brutus slipped a knife into the back of his belt.

  ‘I love the Arcanes. They cheat so openly. It’s such a refreshing change from devious Mages.’ Cain sighed, concealing two small daggers in the wrist bands beneath his shirt.

  ‘Right! Time for a plan!’ Xerxes announced in a business-like voice. ‘We protect each other at the start when the brawling is heavy. Then when the race starts –’

  ‘It’s every brother for themselves.’ Cain finished with a grin. ‘And I’ll be seeing you at the finish line – over my shoulder!’

  ‘Dream on brother! However, let me just check I’ve got all your predicted places down on my sheet before we go.’ Xerxes drew a battered piece of parchment from his top pocket, frowning seriously.

  Mistral leaned over his shoulder to read the bets, ‘You reckon you’re going to win this one do you Cain?’

  ‘Venus is fast.’ Cain said confidently.

  ‘She’s quick.’ Mistral agreed. ‘But it’s two laps of the Vale. Stamina is going to come into play and that’s where Cirrus will come into his own.’

  ‘Ah, but I have a strategy worked out. I’ll gain the lead then hold steady in front, keeping a burst in reserve for the home run.’

  ‘Hmm, not a bad plan –’

  Cain and Mistral continued their conversation while they walked over to the makeshift horse enclosure. The horses were to be ridden without saddles or bridles as a true test of their rider’s abilities, but as Mistral and Cain began to plait a small loop of leather into their horses’ manes to provide a hold they looked around to see other Arcanes making similar preparations.

  ‘It warms my heart to see a bit of good old-fashioned cheating.’ Cain grinned then winked at Mistral and opened his jerkin to reveal his battered silver flask. ‘Pick me up?’

  ‘Is it your special one?’ Mistral asked, eyeing it dubiously.

  ‘The same … and I won’t tell if you don’t!’

  ‘Then, yes please! Manticore poison is probably the only thing that’s going to shift my hangover this morning. I feel like Grendel is playing the drums inside my head.’

  Cain laughed, ‘I think Grendel is going to be occupied playing something else today.’

  ‘Huh, until he runs out of money.’ Mistral muttered and took a swig from Cain’s flask. ‘That hasn’t improved!’ she gasped and handed it back with watering eyes.

  ‘No? I quite like it now.’ Cain shrugged and slipped the flask back inside his jerkin. ‘In fact I was thinking about trying to get it licensed.’

  ‘You’ve got more chance of winning this race than getting that licensed!’

  ‘Don’t listen to her.’ Cain crooned affectionately to his mare. ‘We’ll show them today won’t we? Small and fleet of foot, that’s my girl.’

  ‘Sounds like Hermes last night! Did you see him running from that amazon?’ Brutus asked, strolling over to begin grooming his horse.

  Cain laughed, ‘I’d forgotten about that! Did she catch him?’

  ‘Yes.’ Brutus grimaced. ‘He screamed for mercy. Not a memory I intend to keep.’

  ‘And what will you two be doing while we’re having some fun? The laundry?’ Mistral called to the twins when they sauntered over to join in the conversation.

  ‘Holding Prospero back from attacking everyone near you I should imagine.’ Phantom said in a resigned voice.

  Mistral frowned, ‘Yes, he’s not going to like all the fighting at the start. If I were you I’d get down to the feast tables before they’re cleared away. A plate of leftovers would keep him occupied. Failing that he seems to want to have a go at the tribe of fairies that are here. You could let him chase them for a while.’

  ‘No thanks. They remind me too much of Eudora.’

  ‘Well, in the absence of a fairy to chew on, I’ve bought this.’ Phantasm produced a length of rope and looped it around Prospero’s neck. He growled and began to chew it at it. ‘Yes I thought you’d do that.’ Phantasm commented then smiled when the dog stopped and rubbed a paw over his muzzle. ‘That’s why I smeared it with crushed mustard seeds.’

  ‘Phantasm! That’s just nasty!’

  ‘Enough chat!’ Xerxes bellowed, vaulting onto his horse. ‘It’s time to race!’

  ‘Look after my dog!’ Mistral threatened and wound her hand into the leather loop in Cirrus’ mane to pull herself up.

  The twins watched them ride out of the enclosure and join the other Arcanes making their way to the starting point.

  ‘So we’re agreed.’ Phantasm began in a low voice while he was towed after them by Prospero. ‘We focus on persuading anyone near Mistral to suddenly want to brawl with the person on their other side so she can get safely onto Cirrus –’

  ‘And then persuade her not to want to win the race.’ Phantom finished grimly. ‘The last thing we want is her in the final. I’m sure I heard a gorgon screaming in the night.’

  They had reached the starting point; the large enclosure at the north end of the Vale. Horses were milling excitedly, their riders’ cursing the lack of bit and reins to curb them. Cirrus wheeled beneath Mistral, affording her a whirling glimpse of the waterfall where Columbine had been hiding.

  ‘She’s not there now Mistral.’ Cain said sharply and slid from his mare’s back. ‘Come on. Get that brute of a horse into the enclosure with the others. We start on foot, remember?’

  ‘Uh, of course.’ Mistral tore her gaze away from the waterfall and leapt from Cirrus. Tugging him by the mane she led him into the enclosure with the other horses. He immediately lashed out with both heels, eliciting a squeal of pain from the horse he’d kicked.

  ‘You two are so suited.’ Cain muttered and slapped Venus on the rump, urging her away from Cirrus.

  ‘Arcane kinsmen … and women!’

  The sound of Bryden Wolfsnare’s rich voice rose above the noise of the crowd gathered around the horse enclosure. He strode into view, a tall and composed, dressed in traditional leather trousers and jerkin. As well as the bow slung over his shoulder he also wore a sword at his waist.

  ‘I bid you all good morning and trust that you slept well –’

  Bryden paused to allow a ripple of laughter to subside. The nymphs had swayed into view with a dazed looked Grendel lumbering along in their midst.

  ‘We begin this festival with a race. Competitors will gather on foot behind the two markers.’ he drew his sword and pointed to where two stakes had been driven into the ground several metres apart. Mistral noted that the one nearest her had a small red cross painted on it.

  ‘When my arrow strikes the target on the far marker you will begin. Retrieve your horse and ride. The first rider to complete two circuits of the Vale and cross back between the markers, still mounted –’

  ‘And still alive.’ Phantom muttered under his breath.

  ‘– will be declared the winner! Do you all understand the rules?’

  There was a resounding roar.

  ‘Then we begin!’

  He sheaved his sword and drew his bow. The competitors hurried to take their places between the two wooden
markers. Mistral found herself between Xerxes and Brutus and suppressed a spurt of irritation. It looked like her brothers were going to continue with the annoying overprotective act. She glanced down the line to her right and immediately saw that tribes had strategically positioned their best riders between larger, burly looking members to give them the best chance of reaching their horses unscathed.

  The amazons towered above the yarthkin tribe they were next to, favouring their impatient jostling with coldly disdainful looks. Mistral smiled, glad not to be stood near the fierce-looking warrior women. Glancing quickly to her left she saw that Samson and the rest of the Ri warriors were next to a group of forest sylvads. Slightly built and graceful, they would no doubt evade the thick of the fighting by running swiftly for their horses. Her eyes roved over the horses milling nervously in the enclosure, seeking out Cirrus. She soon found him, snapping irritably at the horse next to him. Mistral smiled. He would not be hard to locate when she started running. There was already a clear space around him where the other horses were giving her bad-tempered horse a wide berth. She guessed there would be a lot of borrowing the nearest horse that came to hand and felt sorry for anyone that tried to take hers.

  A taut silence fell when Bryden stepped forward with his bow held in his right hand. Mistral’s eyes gleamed with sudden excitement. The race was about to begin. She held her breath and watched him fit an arrow and draw the string tight, angling it carefully towards the red marker on the wooden stake. The silence seemed to thicken and deepen until Bryden released the string with a sharp snap. A low gasp ran through the onlookers but the competitors remained silent, only their eyes moved to follow the arrow’s progress through the air. It flew straight and true to drive into the centre of the red cross with a resounding thud. The race had begun.

  A huge cheer went up as the competitors immediately began to brawl; dragging neighbouring tribe members back to allow their best riders to run unhindered for the enclosure. Mistral dodged the elf that lunged for her and sprinted forwards. She passed Brutus swearing at the goblins swarming around him, kneecapping anyone in their path with small wooden clubs concealed inside their shirts. A hand grabbed at her leather jerkin and Mistral immediately swung a fist backwards. She heard a grunt of pain then whoever had been trying to pull her back let go. Reaching the wooden rail of the enclosure Mistral vaulted over and began to run amongst the wheeling herd of horses. The sylvads were ahead of her, weaving lightly between the startled horses. Not blessed with the sylvads’ grace, Mistral simply gritted her teeth and barged through the herd, cursing loudly when she was repeatedly trodden on by nervous horses and shoved by other riders.

  Keeping her eyes locked onto the dark coat of her horse, Mistral forced her way through the sylvads trying to calm their horses enough to mount. One of them deliberately pulled his horse around to block her path just as she was reaching out to grab Cirrus. The horse spun nervously and knocked Mistral to her knees. Winded and furious, she scrambled to her feet with a snarled curse. Elbowing roughly past the sylvad she reached for Cirrus again. The sylvad stumbled then grabbed the back of her jerkin, stopping her from pulling up onto Cirrus. Swearing loudly, Mistral kicked out and caught him squarely in the stomach. Using his body as a springboard, she pushed off and launched herself up, landing on Cirrus’ broad back. Grabbing his mane with both hands she drove her heels into his sides and let out a yell. The powerful horse plunged forwards, scattering horses and riders before him like wooden skittles. He leapt the fence and was instantly immersed in a sea of horses and riders, all forced together by the narrowness of the path. Mistral leaned low over his neck to avoid the flurry of punches being thrown and urged him on. She let out a sudden gasp of pain when the elf riding on her right rammed his elbow into her ribs, trying to knock her off. Mistral hung on to the loop in Cirrus’ mane and forced air back into her winded lungs while she glared furiously at the elf. He gave her a dismissive look, his meaning clear. If she couldn’t take it, then she shouldn’t have entered. Scowling angrily, Mistral yanked hard on the loop in Cirrus’ mane and leaned her weight over, urging him to barge the elf’s slighter horse. With a loud snort of surprise the horse stumbled and dropped to its knees, sending its elven rider tumbling to the ground with a shouted curse. She grinned to see Brutus riding up into the space the elf had left, his long hair flying out behind him and a wild smile lighting his face.

  ‘Nice move sister!’

  Mistral laughed and ducked down over Cirrus’ neck once again. Brutus might be her brother, but she was racing against him too.

  The path rose steeply beneath the horses’ pounding hooves, leading them out of the Vale to begin the first circuit. Once they reached the open grassland above the Vale the panicked horses spread out. With nostrils flaring and legs stretching they began to race in earnest, driven by the instinctive desire to be at the head of the stampede.

  Mistral bent low and gave Cirrus his head, letting her powerful horse find his own pace. Oblivious to the other riders around her she focussed only on the rhythmical thud of his hooves and each snorting breath. The grassland passed by in a green blur. Other riders appeared on her peripheral vision but she ignored them, they were no longer close enough to be within striking distance and, like her, they were now purely intent on racing.

  They flew past the path down into the Vale and began their second lap. Mistral looked up to see who was in front of her and grinned. Cain’s light grey mare was streaking ahead of the rest. They were at least three lengths clear of two elves mounted on fast looking arabs. Cirrus was next and then to her left and right were sylvads. She quickly assessed their horses. They were blowing hard and didn’t look like they would be able to hold the fast pace for much longer. Glancing briefly over her shoulder she noted at least another twenty horses galloping behind them, eyes rolling wildly and foaming at the mouth, their riders frantically urging them forward with hands and heels.

  The racing horses swept around the south end and began to gallop towards the start of path leading them back down into the Vale again. Mistral leaned her weight over to the right, encouraging Cirrus to veer towards where the path would start, she could see other riders beginning to sit up slightly, signalling for their horses to slow down, each trying to gain enough control to make the sharp turn back onto the path.

  There was a flurry of oaths when several of the horses overshot the entrance back to the Vale, careering wildly past with their riders shouting uselessly, unable to steer or stop their bolting horses.

  The elves in front of Mistral had slung some makeshift rope reins over their horses and hauled hard on them, dragging their horses' heads around to face the path. Mistral swore as one of the elves in front of her turned his horse too sharply and it stumbled, falling heavily on its side directly in front of Cirrus’ pounding hooves. She wound her hands tightly into his mane and dug her heels in, asking him to leap over the fallen beast. Cirrus responded with an ungainly lunging jump that nearly threw Mistral from his back. She felt air whistle around her and hung on to the loop in his mane, bouncing down onto his back when Cirrus landed and barely corrected his stride before galloping on. Adjusting her grip on his mane, Mistral wiped her streaming eyes and focussed on the horses in front of her. The resulting burst of excitement made her grin. There was only one other elf and Cain ahead of her.

  ‘Go boy!’

  Cirrus tossed his head and responded more to her lift in mood than her words, surging down the hill with renewed energy. Mistral clung to his mane, pushed back by his powerful strides. The path levelled out and began to narrow, forcing Cirrus up alongside the elf mounted on a finely built arab. Taking advantage of the size difference between the two horses, Mistral leaned her weight over again, urging Cirrus to barge the other horse. The horse was exhausted and staggered easily, sending the elf flying over its shoulder with a surprised shout.

  Mistral laughed and urged Cirrus on, demanding more. The horse responded, his powerful strides closing the gap between Mistral and Cain. Mistral cou
ld see that Venus was nearly spent but Cain was pushing her relentlessly, his kicking heels asking for more than the mare had to give. She stumbled and dropped a stride. Mistral swept past with a triumphant grin, her hand raised in a mocking greeting. Laughing at his foul response Mistral raced on towards the finishing line. Brightly coloured tents flashed by in an exhilarating blur, faces with open mouths roaring incomprehensible words. A rush of adrenalin hit Mistral and she grinned, fierce and proud. She was going to win.

  The sharp breath she drew in was victory sweet, the taste of horse sweat salty on her tongue. She exhaled slowly and felt her whole body relax. What did it matter? Let Cain ride past her … let them all ride past her … winning didn’t matter …

  She slowed Cirrus to a canter, smiling benignly at the faces gaping at her in amazement. A double flash of blonde caught her eye, jolting her senses. A wave of anger crashed over her, obliterating her crippling apathy.

  The twins!

  How dare they!

  Mistral snarled and dug her heels into Cirrus. He plunged forwards again, his snorting breaths matching her own furious breathing as they thundered towards the finishing line, tearing over it a clear length ahead of Cain and the sylvads.

  Sitting up and leaning back to encourage Cirrus to slow down, Mistral turned to glare furiously at the twins. They gazed unapologetically back, inciting her to mouth obscene threats. They shrugged and she turned away before her temper got the better of her, concentrating instead on cantering Cirrus in a circle, gradually slowly him to a jerky trot then a walk, eventually letting him stagger to a halt, blowing hard.

  ‘Good boy,’ she murmured soothingly and patted his sweating neck, all the while glaring at the twins, silently willing them ill thoughts that she fervently hoped they could read in her expression.

  ‘Well ridden sister.’

  Mistral looked down to see the imposing figure of Bryden Wolfsnare standing beside Cirrus. She had not seen him up close before and was surprised at how much older he was than his voice suggested.