The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  Caleb was stood in the Entrance Hall, his face a dark mask of fury.

  ‘In the office – now!’

  Mistral stalked past him down the corridor and through the open doorway of the small ground floor office that Gleacher Shacklock used.

  Caleb entered the office behind her, slamming the door and striding over to the desk. He sat down heavily in the chair and scowled angrily at her. A tense silence fell in which Mistral glared defiantly back at him.

  ‘Just what do you think you are playing at?’ Caleb demanded in a furious tone.

  ‘Me? Oh I don’t know! Maybe just defending myself from that psychopathic stain you laughingly call an apprentice!’ Mistral exploded, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

  She couldn’t believe that she was the one getting all the blame. Too angry to stand still, Mistral began to pace back and forth, shaking her head in anger at the injustice of it.

  ‘This is exactly why I hate female apprentices!’ Caleb raged in a disgusted voice. ‘Too temperamental! Always falling out and causing trouble!’

  ‘Well let’s make your life a bit easier shall we?’ Mistral spun around to face him. ‘Just run along and recommend to Leo that I get the boot and I’ll be out of your hair for good!’

  Caleb’s eyes bulged as he leapt to his feet and leaned across the desk towards her.

  ‘That won’t be necessary.’

  Mistral jerked around to see the cold face of Leo Sphinx glaring icily at her from the doorway.

  ‘Thank you Caleb.’ Leo dismissed his Lieutenant curtly.

  Caleb shot Mistral a fuming look and stamped angrily from the office, slamming the door behind him.

  Leo walked around to take a seat at the desk and gazed at her steadily, ‘Would you care to tell me why you saw fit to disregard my orders?’

  Mistral took a deep breath and fought to control her temper. Shouting at Caleb and demanding her expulsion was one thing, but Leo Sphinx definitely wouldn’t stand for that kind of behaviour.

  ‘I needed to have a word with Columbine about her attacking me during training,’ Mistral said tersely.

  Leo leaned his elbows onto the desk and regarded her coldly over the top of his clasped hands, ‘Columbine has explained the unfortunate accident to me. She firmly believes that you two were supposed to be drilling together.’

  ‘Like hell we were! I was working with Golden when Columbine just waded in and attacked me with a quarterstaff!’

  Leo stared at her coldly while she glared back, breathing heavily.

  ‘That’s as may be, however it still doesn’t excuse the fact that you deliberately left the Infirmary against my instructions and went straight to The Cloak and Dagger to begin a brawl with another apprentice.’

  Leo paused and a nasty silence fell. Mistral cringed inwardly as his words sank in; Phantom was right, it didn’t sound good put like that.

  ‘I appreciate that not all apprentices are going to become best friends, however I do expect you all to behave with respect towards one another; a quality you appear to be sadly lacking in. Now, talking of qualities, I would like to ascertain whether or not you have managed to waste the only thing keeping me from throwing you out of the Valley.’ Leo rose from the chair and strode to the door. He paused for a moment then opened it and looked out into the corridor.

  ‘I thought as much. In here if you please.’

  Mistral’s eyes narrowed when Phantom and Phantasm slunk guiltily into the office.

  Closing the door behind them Leo, returned to the desk and resumed his seat.

  ‘Please read Phantom for me,’ he instructed coldly.

  Mistral stared at him blankly for a second. He gazed coolly back at her.

  ‘When you are quite ready,’ he prompted.

  Drawing in a deep breath Mistral turned to face Phantom, giving him an apologetic look she began to focus on the air around his sleek blonde head. Narrowing her eyes against the fresh explosion of pain in her throbbing head, Mistral forced herself to continue until a fine shimmer slowly appeared around Phantom’s head. The pain was so great that it took all of her willpower to maintain the vision long enough to be able to repeat what she could see to Leo.

  ‘I see lots of bronze, some white and amethyst,’ she forced the words out through clenched teeth, fighting against the bursting agony building up in her head.

  ‘For those of us without your obviously miraculous gift, would you care to explain what that actually means?’ Leo asked in a condescending voice.

  ‘Bronze signifies my guilt and remorse for being caught hanging around outside my Training Captain’s office, the white shows that I am fearful of the consequences of my foolish actions and amethyst reflects worry; for the same reasons.’ Phantom said quickly with a worried glance at Mistral’s pain-filled face.

  There was a short pause while Leo stared dispassionately at Phantom, ‘Thank you for speaking on her behalf, it is just a shame you cannot seem to control some of her other actions so easily,’ he said with icy sarcasm. ‘I think that a weekend spent working in the Infirmary will be sufficient punishment for your behaviour today,’ Leo abruptly switched his piercing gaze back to Mistral. ‘And you will pay Floris for the table you destroyed – now go!’

  Mistral was out of the door first, staggering slightly along the corridor and holding her head in her hands.

  ‘It feels like it’s going to burst,’ she moaned quietly, allowing Phantasm to steer her into the deserted Main Hall.

  Phantom dragged three chairs up to the fire and sat Mistral down on one of them before taking a seat next to his brother. They both leant forward with their hands clasped between their knees, staring at her with concerned expressions on their pale faces.

  ‘You ought to go back to the Infirmary Mistral,’ Phantom began in a worried tone.

  ‘I am,’ she muttered.

  ‘Good,’ he said, looking slightly surprised.

  ‘For the whole weekend … according to Leo,’ she finished heavily.

  Phantom sighed and glanced over at his brother for help but Phantasm just shrugged and shook his head.

  ‘I hate the damned Infirmary! It’s so boring! Why can’t he make me muck out pigs again or something?’ Mistral suddenly flared. She lifted her head out of her hands and stared angrily into the fire.

  ‘Because Master Sphinx will always make the punishment fit the crime,’ said Phantasm quietly. ‘You deliberately disobeyed his orders by leaving the Infirmary so he is punishing you by making you spend your free time there this weekend.’

  Mistral blew out her cheeks in exasperation, ‘Suppose going back for a drink at The Cloak’s out of the question,’ she said broodingly.

  Even though her headache had vanished by the next morning, Mistral arrived at the Arena after breakfast to find out from a smug looking Caleb that she was banned from training by Master Sphinx “for the good of her health” and had left instructions that she begin her duties in the Infirmary instead. Mistral was just trudging resignedly down the stairs to the ground floor after dropping all her weapons off in her room when Phantom and Phantasm flew down the stairs behind her, hastily strapping on their armour.

  ‘Sword work!’ Phantom explained breathlessly as he rushed by. ‘Forgot our armour –’

  Mistral watched them go with a sour expression on her face. She could see the sun shining brightly through the open doors in the Entrance Hall. She was missing a morning drilling swords in the spring sunshine to disembowel newts or perform some other equally foul task for Serenity in the Infirmary.

  She walked moodily along the corridor that led to the Infirmary and shoved the double doors open, stepping inside the brightly lit room and sighing heavily, she looked around for Serenity.

  ‘Good morning Mistral!’ Serenity called brightly, poking her head out of the Apothecary stores. ‘How would you like to learn how to stitch a sword wound?’

  Mistral looked up, ‘I would actually,’ she said surprised at her own enthusiasm.

 
‘Good, because poor Brutus here thought he could train without armour in this morning’s sword practise and well, let’s just say that his brother taught him a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry.’

  Mistral looked across at the row of neatly made beds to see Brutus sat up in one of them looking furious with his hand pressed against his side.

  ‘I’ll kill him,’ he muttered angrily to Mistral when she walked over to stand beside him.

  ‘Who, Xerxes?’ Mistral asked distractedly while she lifted his hand and peered curiously at the wound. It wasn’t very deep but would definitely need stitching.

  ‘How many brothers have I got Mistral?’ Brutus demanded, looking at her angrily. ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Sorry, did that hurt?’ Mistral said absently and prodded her finger into the wound experimentally.

  ‘Yes it did! Mistress Lightwater! I really don’t want the unqualified junior stitching me up if you don’t mind!’ Brutus called loudly.

  ‘Don’t be so squeamish Brutus!’ Serenity chided, appearing out of the storeroom with a bowl of water and a small canvas pouch. ‘Now Mistral, first of all you need to clean the wound –’

  Mistral followed Serenity’s instructions, ignoring Brutus’ repeated demands for some “qualified” medical attention she cleaned and neatly stitched his wound.

  ‘Very good, you have a natural touch!’ Serenity said, admiring the row of tiny black stitches. ‘Have you a Healer in your family?’

  ‘No,’ said Mistral and put the needle and silk back into the small pouch. ‘But I have had to stitch myself up on a couple of occasions. If I’m going to have a scar I prefer it to be a tidy one.’

  ‘Is it straight?’ Brutus asked, peering anxiously down at his side and examining her handiwork. ‘You know what Mistral, that’s not bad,’ he said in a surprised voice.

  ‘Well, take it easy for a couple of days and you’ll be fine,’ said Serenity, carrying the bowl of bloody water away.

  ‘Of course,’ promised Brutus, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. He watched Serenity vanish into the store room before turning to Mistral. ‘Are you in The Cloak at lunch time?’ he asked in an urgent whisper.

  Mistral shrugged ruefully, ‘Suppose so, you know me … a fight a day, and all that.’

  Brutus laughed quietly and quickly stopped, pressing a hand against his stitches with a pained expression.

  ‘Why?’ Mistral asked, ignoring his look of pain.

  ‘Oh right, yes! Hunt – after training. We’re going to plan it at lunch time … see you there?’

  ‘Definitely!’ said Mistral with a grin. ‘I need to kill something after the week I’ve had!’

  Brutus began to laugh then stopped with a wince.

  ‘See you later Brutus.’

  Mistral watched him walk gingerly from the Infirmary and shook her head, remembering Leo Sphinx’s words to them at Registration … “You will begin by trying to kill each other” … well he wasn’t wrong about that, she thought darkly.

  Mistral spent the rest of morning performing revolting tasks in the Apothecary stores. Half of the tonics and potions in there seemed to be made entirely of the intestines of small rodents and reptiles. She stirred a large vat of boiling toad livers and privately swore never to take any tonic that Serenity offered her, no matter how ill she was.

  It was with relief that Mistral escaped from the Infirmary at lunch time. Before hurrying down to The Cloak and Dagger she stopped off at her room to collect her swords, crossbow, knife belt and dagger then chucked her jerkin and cloak into her saddlebag for good measure. Slinging it over her shoulder she left her room, feeling absolutely no guilt at the prospect of not returning to the Infirmary for the afternoon shift. It was Saturday and training finished at lunch time, why should her Infirmary duty be any different?

  Mistral entered The Cloak and Dagger to find the apprentices all gathered around their usual three tables. Collecting a tankard of ale from the bar Mistral apologised to Floris and promised to pay him for the table as soon as she could. Floris grunted in a non-committal way; he had probably seen more fights that she’d had hot dinners but Mistral didn’t particularly want to be barred from the only drinking establishment in the Valley and was careful to appear suitably apologetic.

  ‘Really sorry about the table Floris,’ she repeated when she paid for her drink and turned to walk over to join the other apprentices.

  ‘Just take it outside next time.’

  Mistral nodded thoughtfully and began to fondly imagine drowning Columbine in the water trough in the village square.

  ‘How’re your stitches Brutus?’ she asked when she’d settled herself onto a chair next to Phantom.

  ‘Sore,’ he complained. ‘But nothing that won’t stop me going out this afternoon!’

  ‘How was your morning?’ Phantasm asked her politely.

  ‘Oh knock it off, you know it was vile. I spent the last two hours boiling toad’s livers!’ Mistral scowled at him and took a drink from her tankard.

  ‘Never mind, just this afternoon and tomorrow to go and you’ll be toad-liver free!’ Phantasm smiled.

  ‘I don’t think so!’ Mistral snorted. ‘I’m not missing a hunt to spend an afternoon skinning rock lizards!’

  Phantasm fixed her with a severe look, ‘You can’t keep openly flaunting Master Sphinx’s orders Mistral! Don’t push him, he didn’t get where he is today by being a soft touch!’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Mistral frowned.

  ‘Has it not struck you how much younger than the rest of the Magnate Master Sphinx is?’

  Mistral shrugged, ‘Not really given it that much thought.’

  Phantasm sighed and muttered something about “details”.

  ‘Look, you know that my punishment was completely unjust, and anyway, I should only be doing half a day today – its Saturday! We finish at noon and, well, I’ve finished!’ Mistral argued.

  ‘We could always tell Serenity that you’ve had a relapse and couldn’t make it back for duty,’ Phantom offered helpfully.

  ‘Don’t do that!’ Mistral said looking horrified. ‘She’ll have me tucked up in one of those damned beds drinking extract of toad’s liver before you can blink!’

  Before Phantasm could argue back Xerxes burst through the door and hurried over to them looking uncharacteristically flustered.

  ‘Sorry I’m late – had to listen to one of Barak’s lectures about not using training sessions as an excuse to try and kill my brother –’

  ‘I should think so too,’ sniffed Brutus.

  ‘Sorry about that, brother – but you really should have been wearing your armour. You know I’m the better swordsman –’ ignoring Brutus’ murderous look, Xerxes clapped his hands together briskly. ‘Now! Down to business!’ He sat down, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘So, for those of you that were unfortunately absent from last night’s fine card game – which you still owe me some silver for by the way Saul – you won’t know that a farmer from one of the mountain villages was in the tavern toting for a warrior to hunt a manticore that’s picking off all his sheep. Well, none of the warriors that were in would touch it with a barge pole.’

  ‘Why not,’ interrupted Phantom suspiciously. ‘I’d have thought a manticore was small fry to one of them.’

  ‘I’ll get to that bit in a minute,’ said Xerxes evasively. ‘Anyway, we fell to talking and I’ve agreed to hunt it for him ... well, with a bit of help from you lot too.’

  Mistral nodded enthusiastically. Manticores were reclusive mountain-dwelling beasts; it would be a challenging hunt.

  ‘And how much is this Contract worth?’ Phantasm asked, creating a lull in the sudden burst of excited conversation.

  Xerxes looked shifty, ‘Well, there’s no actual money involved with this one. But he has given us three barrels of cider by way of payment, so we’re guaranteed a good celebration when we get back!’ he added quickly.

  The twins exchanged a look.

  ‘I don�
��t think we’ll be going,’ said Phantasm bluntly.

  ‘There’s no way I’m tangling with a manticore just for some cider.’ Phantom agreed fervently.

  ‘What?’ Mistral cried. ‘It’ll be a great chance to hunt something a bit more challenging than deer and rabbits!’

  ‘Not for free it won’t.’ Phantasm muttered.

  Xerxes pursed his lips and regarded the twins thoughtfully, ‘Would it change your minds if you had the manticore after we’d hunted it?’

  ‘Look nice stuffed in your room,’ Mistral quipped flippantly.

  Phantom favoured her with an exasperated look, ‘Don’t be ridiculous Mistral! Manticore pelts can fetch a good price!’ He turned to Xerxes. ‘Yes, I think that would be acceptable, count us in.’

  Xerxes grinned, ‘Good, so here’s the plan. The manticore is picking off the flock grazing over the upper western pastures, so we can safely assume that it’s den is up in the Western Range – has anyone dealt with a manticore before?’ Xerxes asked looking around at them all intently.

  Mistral shook her head. She had only heard stories about the powerful lion-like creature. They were reputed to have faces with almost human features and tails tipped with poisonous spines. But since all of this had been told to her by the villagers in Nevelte she was inclined to disregard it as fanciful rubbish and said nothing.

  ‘I have.’ Konrad’s sepulchral voice made them all look around at him in surprise. It was rare for the unsociable apprentice to join in a conversation. They all gazed at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

  ‘And?’ Xerxes prompted when Konrad didn’t appear to be about to expand any further on his knowledge of the beast they were going out to hunt.

  Konrad stared into space, seeming to recall some distant memory, ‘They’re big and savage and have a strange call … not what you’d expect.’

  Konrad lapsed back into silence and the apprentices stared at him in anticipation.

  ‘Well – what do they sound like?’ Xerxes asked when it became apparent that Konrad wasn’t about to continue.

  Konrad fixed him with his dead-eyed stare, ‘They look like lions but they don’t roar. They sing –’