The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  Phantasm and Phantom shared a wide-eyed look.

  ‘Sturdier longbows? I could barely draw the string on mine,’ muttered Phantasm dispiritedly.

  ‘He’d snapped two before I had worked out how to fit an arrow,’ his brother added glumly.

  Mistral hid a smile and sat down beside them, resting her head back against the Arena’s wooden fence to enjoy the warmth of the sun. She enjoyed archery practise. In fact, she enjoyed all of the weaponry practise sessions. The twins struggled with the physical side of their apprenticeships but Mistral valued their friendship too much to tease them about it. She knew their real strength lay in their strange power of being able to influence others with their minds.

  Training had finished for the weekend and the rest of the apprentices were milling around the Arena, sharing jokes and banter while they gathered up their various scattered belongings ready to head off to The Cloak and Dagger.

  ‘First year apprentices to my office,’ a loud voice barked abruptly.

  Mistral looked up to see the Contracts Officer, Gleacher Shacklock, standing by the entrance to the Training Arena with a sheaf of parchments in his hand.

  ‘Contracts, great,’ muttered Phantom grimly. ‘I wonder what delights are in store for us today.’

  Mistral smiled to herself and stood up, ‘C’mon brother, let’s go see if he’s got something nice and easy for you today.’

  ‘Anything that doesn’t involve blood and guts would suit me fine,’ grumbled Phantom, springing lightly to his feet.

  The relaxed atmosphere suddenly vanished in a flurry of activity as everyone hastily grabbed their belongings and hurried up the path after Gleacher. First years were gradually issued training Contracts as they became more accomplished in the skills required, giving them valuable opportunities to practise and gain field experience. There was fierce competition over the Contracts they were issued, everyone was eager to have a chance to prove themselves to Gleacher in the hope that he would favour them with more high level work.

  Mistral and the twins followed the rest of the apprentices up the path to the Main Building and joined the crowd of apprentices already crammed into the narrow corridor outside Gleacher’s office.

  ‘I’d better not be given another damned knucker hunt,’ muttered Xerxes. ‘You could fill a wine cask with the amount of slime I’ve been covered by those vile worms!’

  ‘Think yourself lucky! I had to roundup and destroy a massive outbreak of spriggans at the Valley farm last week. The little gits were hanging off me like rats! I tell you what, it damned well hurt! They’ve got really sharp teeth,’ Cain said pointing meaningfully to a number of small bite-marks on his hands and arms.

  The door opened and an expectant hush immediately fell when Gleacher’s stern features appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Right, let’s see what we have here,’ he said, thumbing through the sheaf of Contracts in his hand.

  ‘Golden?’

  The half-nymph looked up importantly.

  ‘A Council member needs a bodyguard to attend a formal function tonight ... apparently the one we sent last time wasn’t to his taste.’

  A ripple of laughter ran through the gathered apprentices; Grendel had been issued the last bodyguard Contract.

  Gleacher held out the piece of parchment while Golden pushed her way to the front of the crowd.

  ‘Thank you,’ she purred and batted her eyelashes at Gleacher who looked momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his composure.

  ‘She just can’t help herself can she?’ Phantasm muttered.

  Phantom shook his head disgustedly, ‘I think she would actually try and flirt with the dead.’

  ‘Brutus and Cain; track and dispatch a knucker on the lower eastern meadow.’

  Mistral heard Xerxes let out a sigh of relief and smiled. She had also dealt with a few of the foul swamp dragons that infested the wet lowlands in droves and wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the experience either.

  ‘Grendel … let’s see … ah yes, an escaped herd of bonacon belonging to Maldita Pickering … all the details are here –’

  Grendel grunted and lumbered forward to take the Contract.

  ‘Ah,’ Gleacher paused and held up piece of parchment between his finger and thumb, as though it was dirty. ‘Konrad?’ he called, his eyes swept over the remaining apprentices until he located the sullen features of the apprentice.

  ‘An assassination,’ said Gleacher shortly.

  A taut silence fell across the group. Assassination Contracts were one part of being a warrior they all tried hard not to think about. This was the first Contract of that nature they had been offered.

  Wordlessly Konrad slipped to the front of the group and held out his hand for the Contract, his dark face expressionless. Mistral stole a glance at the parchment as Konrad pushed past her. It was written a strange brown coloured ink.

  Phantasm caught her curious glance, ‘Blood,’ he whispered with a grimace. ‘All Assassination Contracts are traditionally written in it.’

  ‘Whose?’ Mistral whispered back, intrigued.

  ‘Whoever is buying the Contract. It’s symbolic; they must shed blood in recognition of what they’re paying to be done.’

  Gleacher continue to dole out the Contracts to the apprentices until there was only Mistral, the twins and Bali left standing before him.

  He regarded them thoughtfully for a moment, ‘Troll hunt?’ he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

  ‘I’ll take it,’ said Mistral immediately, reaching out to take the last Contract in his hand. Gleacher lifted his hand slightly so that it was just out of her reach.

  ‘Yes, I knew you would want it Mistral, however,’ he paused. ‘It would be remiss of me to send just one apprentice to tackle a dangerous troll.’

  Mistral felt the twins recoil slightly at the word ‘dangerous.’

  ‘Bali,’ Gleacher turned to look at the quiet apprentice. ‘I want you to lead a team of four to hunt and destroy an adult male troll in the Western Range.’

  Mistral’s face looked stony at the news that Bali was the designated leader while the twins shared a swift look of panic.

  ‘Er, Master Shacklock? I’m not sure my brother and I possess the skills necessary to be of any benefit to this particular expedition,’ Phantasm said quickly.

  Gleacher fixed him with a withering look.

  ‘Then it’s time you developed them,’ he said coldly. Turning his attention back to Bali, Gleacher began to issue instructions. ‘I want you to submit a strategy to me by the end of this afternoon. The hunt will take place tomorrow; you leave at first light. Please be aware that this is a payment on delivery Contract, so I will need some proof, preferably the head.’

  Bali nodded calmly while the twins shared another horrified glance.

  ‘Bali, a quick word in my office please. That will be all,’ said Gleacher, curtly dismissing Mistral and the twins.

  As the office door closed behind Bali and Gleacher, the twins looked miserably at each other.

  ‘A troll hunt. Oh how wonderful, just what I saw myself doing when I began my apprenticeship,’ muttered Phantasm despondently.

  ‘Let’s go and get some lunch. It might be the last meal we get to eat,’ sighed Phantom.

  The three apprentices trailed off towards the Refectory with the twins still bemoaning their bad luck at getting such a dangerous mission.

  ‘You’re unusually quiet Mistral,’ said Phantasm suddenly. ‘I’d have thought you would be jumping for joy at the chance to chop the head off something nearly twice your size, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Mistral muttered sullenly.

  The twins frowned at her for a moment before giving joint sighs.

  ‘Ah, I think somebody’s nose is a teensy bit out of joint at not being given the lead,’ said Phantom in an aside to his brother.

  ‘Well, I just don’t see what is so special about Bali that’s all,’ snapped Mistral. ‘I could lead the hunt just as well as him, if not better
.’

  ‘Oh come on Mistral,’ scoffed Phantasm. ‘Bali lived for years with his elven tribe in the Northern Range. They’re famous for their fighting skills. I reckon he could probably teach Master Sphinx a thing or two about strategy and battle!’

  ‘If he’s so damned good then what’s he doing training with the Ri then, I mean he’s a bit old isn’t he?’ Mistrial continued, obviously determined to find fault with Bali.

  Phantasm shrugged lightly, ‘I agree that Bali is more mature than the rest of the apprentices, but surely even you can see that his extra years of experience are going to be a good thing if he’s leading a troll hunt.’

  Mistral halted abruptly and spun to face Phantasm, ‘And you think I can’t lead a hunt to find an eight foot tall creature that has the stealth skills of a drunken elephant and smells like twenty over-ripe manure heaps?’

  ‘Yes, I am quite sure you could lead the hunt to find the troll,’ said Phantasm smoothly. ‘But I think Master Shacklock feels that Bali has the necessary experience to actually bring us back again as well.’

  ‘Hopefully alive,’ added Phantom under his breath.

  ‘Well thanks very much for the vote of confidence,’ Mistral snapped and stomped off ahead of them with a Golden-like toss of her hair.

  Phantasm rolled his eyes at his brother, ‘This afternoon is going to be a barrel of laughs with her in that mood.’

  ‘Hmm, then there’s just the small matter of dispatching a troll tomorrow,’ added Phantom grimly.

  They had reached the Refectory, the long narrow room was full of apprentices having lunch and discussing the Contracts they had been issued. Golden’s voice could clearly be heard above the rest boasting about how she had been specifically requested to escort a high ranking Council official to a gala ball.

  ‘What’s his name Golden,’ called Phantasm in a politely interested voice while Phantom sat down next to Mistral.

  Mistral eyed him suspiciously for a second before replying, ‘Trophimius Mogg.’

  ‘Ah yes, the well-respected Assistant to the Head of Sanitation, a most ... fragrant man.’ Phantom smiled sweetly then sat down on the bench next to his brother with his back to Golden.

  Mistral stifled a laugh at Golden’s furious expression. She caught Mistral’s amused look and quickly turned away with a flip of her long blonde hair.

  ‘What’s for lunch?’ Phantasm asked and leaned across the table to lift the lid on the large earthenware pot.

  ‘Not been that brave yet, sorry,’ Mistral replied and watched him cautiously dipping a ladle into the steaming contents.

  He sniffed the slightly fusty aroma that drifted out and sighed with relief, ‘Ah, sprout soup.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that! I have no idea what meat was in yesterday’s stew but I’m sure I found a beak in mine,’ said Phantom accepting a bowlful from his brother.

  Bali arrived and sat down quietly at their table, waiting patiently until they had all finished eating.

  ‘Are we ready to work out a plan?’ he asked when Mistral finally pushed her empty bowl away.

  ‘Can’t wait,’ said Phantasm, smiling politely.

  The four apprentices spent the rest of the afternoon in the Refectory working out a strategy for the hunt. Mistral was all for a frontal attack with swords.

  ‘The legs, the legs!’ she kept repeating angrily. ‘Just go for the legs. Once he’s down we can hack his head off!’

  The twins were inclined for a more subtle approach. They suggested digging a large hole, covering it with thin planks of wood and tethering a live goat on top as bait then coming back a week later to see if the troll had fallen in.

  Bali sat quietly listening to the three argue and didn’t interrupt until Mistral started to lose her temper at the twins.

  ‘Oh for pity’s sake why don’t you just send the damned troll a strongly worded letter recommending that he moves out of the area?’

  ‘Enough,’ said Bali calmly and paused to fix Mistral with a hard look when she opened her mouth to continue arguing. ‘Here is the plan,’ he continued quietly and leaned forward in his chair with a serious expression on his face. ‘Firstly, we locate the lair.’

  Mistral made an exasperated sound as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. Bali ignored her and continued to outline his plan.

  ‘Troll’s are nocturnal –’

  Bali took no notice when Mistral rolled her eyes and started drumming her fingers on the table.

  ‘So once we’ve found the lair we’ll have plenty of time to prepare ourselves before it wakes up at twilight. I suggest that Mistral and I conceal ourselves in strategic positions near to the lair armed with crossbows and swords for back up. Phantasm and Phantom?’ he looked at the twins who almost whimpered at being asked to do something.

  ‘I want you two armed with longbows a short distance away. If you get the chance to take the troll down with a clean shot, then do it.’

  Phantasm looked slightly abashed. ‘Sorry Bali, but I might do better if I just chucked the longbow at the troll than tried to fire an arrow with it.’

  Bali considered for a moment, ‘Crossbows then.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Phantom, with obvious relief at not being asked to swap places with Mistral, who could handle a longbow.

  ‘Troll skin is incredibly durable against all weapons so the bolts will need to be dipped in poison first to be more effective. I’ll go see Master Nox later to get something appropriate. Now, are we all in agreement with the plan?’ he asked quietly and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

  ‘Yes,’ the twins instantly replied in unison.

  Mistral remained silent, staring into space with a sullen look on her face.

  Bali sat upright with a sigh, ‘I promise that if the troll is only incapacitated by the poison and needs finishing off then you can have the job,’ he said in a resigned tone.

  Mistral looked slightly mollified, ‘In that case, it’s a great plan.’

  ‘Good,’ said Bali, smiling for the first time. ‘Now, any questions?’

  The twins shook their blonde heads and after a moment’s pause Mistral shook hers too.

  ‘Then we are agreed, we will meet at the stables at dawn tomorrow. You’ll need to bring cloaks – it’ll be cold higher up in the mountains – swords, crossbows and plenty of bolts –’

  Mistral listened to Bali listing the items they would need to take and felt the familiar thrill that danger always gave her. She couldn’t wait to spend a day out of the stifling confines of the Valley, away from the routine of endless training and the bullying Training Lieutenants.

  They left at dawn the next morning, riding out of the Valley’s massive North Gate under a pearly grey sky. Mistral breathed in the cool morning air with a burst of excitement at the day ahead. Bali took the lead once they reached the meadows and broke into a canter. Ignoring her mutterings about ‘delusions of grandeur’, the twins fanned out to ride behind him with Mistral lagging slightly behind.

  ‘Good conditions,’ commented Bali approvingly after he’d examined the sky. ‘No wind and no sun; perfect troll hunting weather.’

  Mistral smiled, thinking that the normally dour apprentice had made a joke but the expression on his face made her realise that he was perfectly serious. Mistral sighed, thinking to herself that this was going to be one long boring day with Mr No Sense of Humour in charge. She was glad the twins had been forced into coming along. At least they always provided some form of entertainment.

  They followed a little used stony path into the Western Range of mountains that bordered the Ri Valley. Mistral hadn’t travelled through this part of the range before and looked around interestedly at the unfamiliar scenery. The land on the western side was more cultivated with occasional steep fields of vines and stone-walled pastures occupied by ragged-looking sheep. As they climbed higher the temperature gradually dropped and soon they were riding in a fine mist of cold drizzle. Bali called a halt for them all to put
on their cloaks. Mistral eyed him resentfully while she fastened her cloak. She hated taking orders from anyone, let alone another apprentice. Her expression was sullen when they mounted up and rode on again. The twins were gossiping quietly about the previous night’s events in The Cloak and Dagger. Mistral had not joined them, preferring to sulk and spend her evening preparing her weapons for the hunt. She listened with half an ear to their muted conversation, smiling despite her bad mood when she caught something that amused her.

  ‘Did you notice that Golden put in a rather grand appearance on her way to that Council function?’ murmured Phantasm.

  ‘Couldn’t miss it. I have no idea where she was concealing her weapons in that dress though,’ smirked Phantom.

  ‘I dread to think!’

  The twins both laughed and moved on to speculating about Konrad’s Assassination Contract.

  ‘Well, it can’t be anyone high level ... or it would have gone to someone Qualified,’ mused Phantasm.

  ‘More than likely a piece of rough justice being served then.’

  ‘Can’t imagine doing one though, can you?’

  ‘Ugh, no thank you, the only assassinations I want to be doing are character assassinations!’

  The twins moved on to something that didn’t interest her and Mistral found her thoughts drifting back to their conversation about Assassination Contracts. In truth, she hadn’t spent too much time considering how she would feel about taking such a Contract. Whilst they were still in training apprentices had the protective hand of Gleacher Shacklock carefully vetting all Contracts but Mistral knew that it would be a different story once she Qualified. Fully trained warriors were expected take every Contract they were offered, no matter what it entailed. A warrior that turned down a Contract often found themselves suddenly unpopular with their Agent, and no work meant no money.

  ‘Be careful here, there’s a lot of loose stone over the path just here.’

  Bali’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up irritably. He had been silent throughout most of their journey, only speaking to point out a difficult piece of terrain or comment on a change in the weather conditions, as if he was leading a group of children on an outing.