The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  ‘Details, details.’ Mistral glowered at the manticore. ‘How I hate details.’

  Giving a vibrating cry, the manticore lunged, claws outstretched and teeth bared.

  Mistral threw herself at the creature, swords outthrust. They met in the air, the manticore’s claws ripping at Mistral’s armour while her swords plunged deep into its chest. They tumbled to the ground as one, rolling over and over, leaving a crimson trail on the dusty ground until they fell still. Mistral drew in a sobbing breath of earth and blood and sweat and knew she was still alive. The manticore was laid beside and over her, entwined together like sleeping lovers. She clambered from its embrace, streaked with their shared blood. Disorientated, Mistral jerked round and instantly met Cain’s urgent gaze.

  ‘Go! You’re the first to get clear! Get the rope! Get the gorgon! Go Mistral! Go!’

  Mistral held his blazing while a grin spread across her face. She was about to face one of the most feared creatures on the Isle. A gorgon.

  Sheaving her bloody swords, Mistral sprinted over to the cage and hauled herself up. She crouched on the top and glanced quickly around. The centaur, Dravite, was cantering around the chimera firing arrows at it. Further across the Arena Mistral could see Bryden’s tribe member, Ares, fending off a gryphon with his sword. A familiar roar drew her gaze to Grendel and she almost laughed. The huge warrior had been pitted against a gargoyle. It was a hardly a fair match. He had already speared it with his sarisas and was in the process of plucking its lifeless body from the spiked end. Saul stood motionlessly beside him, his eyes fixed on her. Their eyes met and Mistral felt the inexplicable fear implode in her stomach again. She froze. It was him. The fear was for him.

  A hand gripped her ankle, pulling her back towards the ground. Mistral gasped and grabbed at the cage, curling her fingers through the meshing to hold on. She twisted to try and see who or what had grabbed her and immediately swore. Bellona glared back. Keeping a tight hold on Mistral’s ankle, the amazon began to pull her off the cage.

  ‘Get off me!’

  Mistral stamped down hard with her free boot, crushing the amazon’s fingers against the metal cage. Bellona’s face contorted but she didn’t release her grip. Giving a harsh snarl she yanked savagely at Mistral’s ankle with both hands. Mistral clenched her teeth and held on tightly, ignoring the stinging pain of the meshing cutting into her fingers. She lashed out again with her boot, missing Bellona’s hands and throwing herself off balance. She clung desperately to the cage, cursing in frustration as her fingers begin to slip, wet with her own blood. Bellona gave another powerful tug and Mistral’s fingers lost their hold. She was slammed to the ground and straddled by the amazon, her throat held in a choking grip.

  Mistral writhed, kicking uselessly while her hands clawed at the amazon’s wrists but Bellona was stronger. She smiled evilly and gripped harder, crushing Mistral’s windpipe. Spots of colour burst before Mistral’s eyes. Fire ripped at her lungs but she had no air to scream, no strength to fight …

  A raw scream rang in Mistral’s ears that seemed to come from a long way off. Air rushed into her lungs in a painful gasp. She rolled onto her side and vomited, every gagging retch and ragged breath confirming her existence and reminding her she that she still had a job to do.

  The gorgon.

  Mistral staggered to her feet and stared around wildly for her attacker, her stupefied mind struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Where was Bellona? There! Her bloodshot eyes focused on the confusing sight of Ares fighting with Bellona.

  ‘Drink!’

  Cain was suddenly by her side, forcing a waterskin to her mouth. Mistral choked as the liquid stung her sore throat.

  ‘Why did Ares pull Bellona off me?’ she gasped hoarsely.

  ‘The twins are using their gift!’ Cain hissed under his breath. He shoved the waterskin back into his saddlebag he looked around urgently. ‘Now go! Quickly! Grendel is holding off Dravite! Go Mistral!’

  Mistral spun around, her eyes raking the Arena until she saw Grendel. He had positioned himself in front of the cage and was fending Dravite off with his sarisas. Saul was nearby but he was watching her, his face lit with a look of pure jubilation. His lips framed words she couldn’t hear but the expression on his face spoke louder than any yelled encouragement.

  ‘GO!’

  With Cain’s shout ringing in her ears Mistral sprinted over to the cage. She vaulted up and ran towards the rope coiled at the centre. She could hear Cain following her, his booted steps rattling loudly against the metal framework. Euphoria struck her in a heady rush. She reached out for the rope with both hands then looked over her shoulder at Cain.

  ‘Ready to meet your future wife, brother?’

  ‘I’m not the marrying kind Mistral! Now just pull the damned rope!’ Cain crouched down next to her, his saddlebag gripped firmly in his hand, the flap already undone.

  Mistral braced herself against the rope and gave it a hard tug but whatever the rope was connected to was heavier than her. Her blooded hands slipped, burning painfully against the rope. She swore and wrapped a length around her hands to try again but it didn’t budge.

  ‘Come on!’ Cain exploded, casting anxious glances over his shoulder at Bellona and Ares. The pair had stopped fighting and were running towards the cage.

  ‘I’m trying damn it Cain!’

  Mistral wedged her heels into the cage and leant back, pitting her weight against the rope. It suddenly gave, throwing Mistral onto her back with a shout of surprise. A series of resounding clangs followed and the entire structure began to collapse. Mistral heard Cain cursing then joined him as the cage fell away from beneath them, sending them crashing to the ground amidst a jumble of fallen metal sides. At once the air was filled with the roar of the crowd, urging their respective champions on to face the final challenge.

  With a savage shout Mistral leapt to her feet and had both swords drawn before she was fully upright. She spun around to see the last of the metal sides falling away, finally revealing the hunched figure of the gorgon.

  Mistral instantly knew that something was wrong. The green-skinned creature lay supine in its collapsed cell. The snakes that should have been writhing and twisting on its head coiled limply around a slack face.

  ‘What the –?’

  Mistral’s exclamation was drowned out by Cain’s shocked cry as a second figure sprang from behind the gorgon’s lifeless body. Mistral instantly recognised the wolf-bitten features, black-eyed with malice.

  ‘Columbine!’

  She spat her name and Columbine flew at her, screaming maniacally. Mistral just had time to register that her enemy was dressed in rags and armed with mismatched swords before her instincts kicked in and she threw herself to the side, narrowly avoiding Columbine’s lunging attack. Rolling swiftly, Mistral heard Columbine’s swords strike metal where she had been only moments before.

  ‘Keep moving!’

  She didn’t need Cain to tell her twice. Holding her swords close to her body Mistral rolled again then made to leap to her feet only to be jerked back again. Something was holding her tight against the cage. With a flash of alarm Mistral realised that her armour buckles had caught in the metal meshing. She was trapped.

  Mistral immediately shouted for Cain, her voice unnaturally high with panic. When he didn’t reply she craned her neck up to look for him and immediately saw him struggling with Columbine. They grappled for a few seconds then Columbine shoved him off with an angry scream and rammed her boot into his mid-section, knocking him to his knees. Turning to see Mistral trapped on the cage, Columbine’ scarred face twisted into something like a smile. She grabbed her dropped swords and began to run towards Mistral, her grin suddenly changing to a snarl when Cain lunged for her legs, sending her sprawling. Time seemed to slow. Mistral didn’t see Columbine’s face contort as she lost balance or hear her shriek of fury. She was watching the swords leave Columbine’s outstretched hands, heading straight for her helplessly trapped body.
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  She felt no fear, no panic. Unreality flooded through Mistral, stupefying and heavy, like a drug, detaching her from the moment. She gave up struggling and lay still, watching the swords arc in slow motion through the air, hypnotised by the sunlight glinting on the bright steel points falling towards her. Her mind was suddenly filled with an image of Fabian. Every detail so perfectly clear that she knew with absolute certainty that she was about to die. She drew in a single, final breath, savouring the scent of parched grass and sun warmed earth before closing her eyes to see all she ever wanted to.

  Fabian.

  Something heavy crashed into her, crushing the air from her lungs with the force of its landing. For a confused moment Mistral thought the manticore had launched itself at her again then a double thud struck the mass laying over her and she felt convulsions wrack the body covering hers.

  ‘Mistral!’ Cain’s desperate cry forced her to open her eyes.

  She choked and forced air into her winded lungs, staring around wildly until she focussed on Cain’s stricken face. She felt the buckles on her armour give as he wrenched her out from beneath the deadweight laying on her, then he was gone, leaving Mistral lying dazedly on the ground.

  Disconnected sounds reached her ears; shouting, a gurgling scream, the distinctive sound of something heavy striking the ground and closer, the laboured breathing of someone dying.

  Was the breathing hers? Panic stabbed through her stupor. She didn’t want to die. Forcing her leaden body to move she dragged herself onto her knees and stared with uncomprehending eyes at the chaos in the Arena. Her brothers were crowded around something on the ground a short distance away, but she couldn’t make out what it was, the twins’ blonde heads were bent close together, shielding it from her view. Cain was knelt close by, leaning over a tall figure laid out on the ground with two horrific gaping wounds in his chest. Her gaze travelled up to the waxen face where two brown eyes stared unseeingly up at the blue sky.

  ‘No! Oh, please no!’ Mistral crawled over on hands and knees, reaching out with trembling hands for his still face. ‘Saul.’

  The Fallen

  Saul’s eyes suddenly rolled. He gasped for breath, bubbles of blood breaking from his open mouth.

  ‘Saul! Saul! Look at me! I’m here, see me … I’m here … look at me!’ Mistral wiped the blood from his lips with a shaking hand.

  ‘Mistral?’

  ‘I’m here.’ Mistral’s voice cracked. ‘Hold on Saul, just hold on. Cain’s here too, we’re going to fix you up. You’ll be fine –’

  She glanced quickly at Cain working silently beside her. His hands glistened with blood, the thick gauze he was holding over the wounds in Saul’s chest were sodden. She swallowed hard. Cain met her frightened stare and shook his head imperceptibly.

  ‘Mistral –’

  ‘I’m still here Saul. I haven’t left … I’m here. It’s all going to be fine –’

  ‘Terrible liar.’ Saul laughed and coughed. More bubbles of blood broke on his lips.

  Mistral gazed into his eyes and began to cry.

  ‘Don’t,’ he whispered faintly. ‘I want to remember you … angry … the Mistral I love –’

  ‘Don’t die Saul! Oh, please don’t die! You can’t die yet! I wanted to see you happy!’

  ‘I have been.’ Saul raised a finger and slowly stroked it down her cheek then his hand fell lifelessly to the ground.

  ‘No!’ Mistral sobbed but only glazed eyes stared back. Saul was gone.

  ‘Come away.’

  Mistral felt hands pulling her upright, dragging her away. Blinded by tears she was aware of nothing until she felt warm arms taking hold of her then she gave way to the grief that tore at her, wrenching the breath from her lungs in uncontrollable sobs.

  Voices spoke around her. She felt herself being lifted and carried but she closed her eyes and buried her head against Fabian’s chest and let her tears fall. She refused to hear anything but the beat of his heart and the rise and fall of every breath, the sound of life. His voice echoed softly through his chest but she heard only the sound, not the words they made. Nothing made sense anymore.

  ‘Cain. Do you have any valerian?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I think it would be best.’

  Silence, the clinking sounds of glass bottles then a voice calling her name registered distantly somewhere in Mistral’s numbed mind.

  ‘Mistral? Look at me. I want you to drink this. It will help. I will be here. I won’t leave you.’

  Mistral stared dully into Fabian’s deep gaze and nodded. She obediently drank the cup of liquid he pressed to her lips then let her head sink back onto his chest; her mind blank, her body limp. A heart was beating. She listened numbly to the sound while the drug pulled her down into oblivion.

  ‘Is she under?’ Phantasm asked quietly.

  Fabian glanced down at Mistral curled in his arms, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. We need to tend to Saul. I think it’s best she doesn’t see.’

  ‘What of Columbine?’

  ‘In the Arena. She will burn later.’

  ‘No. No warrior’s death for her.’ Fabian looked at Phantasm, his black stare cold. ‘Leave her body for carrion.’

  Phantasm nodded expressionlessly and walked over to stand with his brother and Grendel, waiting in respectful silence for Saul to join them for the last time. Cain emerged from the tent, buttoning up a clean shirt. He took his place beside Grendel, watching Xerxes and Brutus walking slowly towards them carrying Saul’s body between them.

  ‘Ah, brother.’ Cain gazed sadly down at Saul’s still face. ‘I will see you again soon.’

  ‘Let it not be too soon brother.’ Xerxes murmured.

  Brutus moved amongst them, passing out cups of strong liquor. They stood together and raised their cups, toasting their fallen brother.

  ‘Cain? Would you do the honours?’ Xerxes asked.

  Cain nodded and looked down at Saul, a hundred memories running through his mind. What words could sum up a friendship? There were none he could think of but he owed it to his brother to say something. He suddenly smiled at a memory from his childhood.

  ‘My mother always used to say that life runs faster than time. I think I know what she meant now.’ Cain drained his cup, the liquor burning him like grief. ‘I bid you farewell brother, but not goodbye.’

  ‘Farewell –’

  The soft echo ran around the group. A life passed was honoured.

  Mistral awoke to blackness and the feel of Fabian’s arms around her. She lay still, warm and safe, clinging to the heavy veil of drugged sleep until it slowly gave way to a sharp pain, tugging at the edges of her consciousness, commanding her not to ignore it.

  Opening her eyes, she looked up at Fabian. He was staring out across the campsite at something she couldn’t see. Mistral turned her head and followed his gaze to see a pillar of smoke rising up into the night sky. She felt her throat constrict. Saul’s funeral pyre was burning.

  ‘Why, Fabian?’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘Why did he do it? It should be me burning. Not him.’

  Fabian snapped his black gaze down to meet her tear-filled eyes, ‘Do you really expect me to agree with you?’

  Mistral gave a sob and shook her head.

  ‘He was Ri, Mistral.’ Fabian continued in a softer voice. ‘A brother gave his life for another. It is a part of the life. Do not taint the memory of your brother with guilt. He chose freely.’

  ‘I was so cruel Fabian! He told me that he loved me and I – I was cruel to him –’

  ‘No, Mistral. If you have given him false hope then you would have been cruel.’

  She gazed at him silently, finding the strength and solace she needed in the sincerity of his gaze.

  ‘I love you Fabian. There’s only ever you for me.’

  ‘And I am eternally grateful to Saul for giving you back to me.’

  Confusion flickered in Mistral’s face, ‘But I never left you –‘

  ‘Ah, but you wo
uld have. If Saul had not taken Columbine’s swords, then you would have left me forever.’

  Mistral’s eyes slid out of focus, staring unseeingly into her memory, ‘Columbine –’

  ‘A headless corpse left to rot on the open grassland.’

  A hiss escaped Mistral’s lips. Her eyes snapped back to meet his, ‘Dead? By who’s hand?’

  ‘It would be hard to say. However, Phantasm can claim the honour of beheading.’

  Mistral nodded slowly and looked back over at the column of smoke rising up into the black sky.

  ‘We should go now Mistral.’ Fabian rose quietly to his feet and reached out a hand to help her up.

  She gazed up at him, her eyes suddenly troubled, ‘Will they blame me?’

  Fabian shook his head slowly, his calm black gaze never leaving hers, ‘No Mistral. Anyone of them would have done the same; and you for them.’

  She drew in a deep breath and let him pull her upright and into his arms, allowing herself one last moment of weakness before she had to face her brothers, those alive, and those dead.

  The avenue was empty, the tents dark. Firelight flickered in the distance, growing nearer with every step they took. The sound of the feast reached their ears, making Mistral grip Fabian’s hand harder, glad of the extra reassurance provided by Prospero pressed against her leg. Torches mounted on wooden stakes cast pools of orange light over the Arena but Mistral’s eyes were instantly drawn to the pyre burning at the centre. Her feet stalled, leaving her staring at the blazing tribute, her eyes stinging from the intense heat.

  ‘Brothers , sisters. We gather at the end of another festival to celebrate the lives of the fallen and honour their brave passing –’

  Mistral blinked as Bryden Wolfsnare’s deep voice resonated across the Arena and she realised that Saul’s body was not the only one burning.

  ‘How many?’ she asked in a choked whisper.

  ‘Ten fell this time.’ Phantasm’s cool voice murmured in her ear. She turned to meet his green gaze. ‘At some festivals it is more, and some less.’