The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  Mistral glanced at Bali’s face as he turned his head to speak to them over his shoulder again; it was set in hard lines of concentration. Despite her resentment of him Mistral was forced to admit that he was taking his responsibility of leading the hunt very seriously. She listened to his quietly spoken instructions and realised that she knew very little about him. Bali was by far the eldest of the first year apprentices and tended to keep to himself outside of training hours. He invariably avoided their high-spirited nights out in The Cloak and Dagger and impromptu hunting expeditions. Mistral had always thought him to be simply unsociable but she could see now that he was just ... well, there was no other way to describe it ... Bali was more sensible.

  The steep path narrowed sharply, forcing them to ride on in single file with the twins gradually growing more subdued as they neared their destination. By midday they reached a small mountain village and Bali silently raised a hand to call a halt. He turned in the saddle and spoke in a low voice.

  ‘This is the village that has bought the Contract on the troll’s life.’

  Mistral scanned the village, taking in the empty main street flanked on either side by squat stone houses. She noted that the windows on each one were tightly shuttered. It was eerily quiet. She frowned and examined the houses more closely; there were no signs of the damage that a rampaging troll would cause on any of them. In fact, the village looked in perfect order.

  ‘Are you sure this is the right village?’ she said to Bali in a low voice. ‘Only I can’t see any broken windows or doors –’

  ‘This troll does not behave in the usual manner of its kind. The villagers have temporarily moved out until we have eradicated the problem,’ he replied quietly.

  ‘Not the usual manner? What does it do? Sneak down from the mountain at night and tidy up?’ whispered Phantasm slightly hysterically.

  Bali shot him a strange look, ‘Not quite. He abducts women.’

  Mistral frowned, ‘What? To eat?’

  ‘No,’ replied Bali shortly.

  There was a brief silence in which the twins and Mistral all shared slightly confused looks.

  ‘Shall we just say that this troll does not care for other female trolls; are you getting the picture?’ Bali’s voice was filled with loathing.

  ‘No!’ Phantom looked sickened.

  ‘That’s revolting,’ his brother echoed faintly.

  ‘And one final point I should mention,’ Bali went on. ‘There is every likelihood that the troll we are hunting is Grendel’s father.’

  There was a stunned silence.

  ‘So, Grendel’s mother?’ Mistral began slowly.

  ‘Yes, Grendel’s mother was a village woman abducted by a troll, more than likely this one as I’ve never heard of another behaving in this way; she managed to escape before the troll killed her, most don’t survive his attentions for too long. In any case she died giving birth to Grendel. Her body just wasn’t designed to cope with carrying a troll baby.’

  A heavy silence fell while Mistral and the twins took in the appalling truth about Grendel’s parentage. Mistral felt slightly ashamed of the jokes they’d made about this exact subject and could tell by the expressions on the twins’ faces that they felt the same.

  ‘We’ll find somewhere safe to stable the horses and continue on foot,’ said Bali, quietly taking charge again. ‘Their scent will only alert the troll to our approach and we don’t want them to end up as a meal.’

  Mistral shot him a horrified look and patted Cirrus’ neck reassuringly.

  They rode up the deserted main street, the dull thud of hoof beats against the dirt road the only sound breaking the oppressive silence. Mistral found herself looking out of the corner of her eye at each shuttered windows they rode past, half expecting them to bang open at any moment and a slathering troll to appear.

  ‘We’ll secure the horses in here,’ said Bali, reining his horse in outside a large barn. His quiet voice sounded abruptly loud in the overwhelming silence.

  They dismounted and followed Bali cautiously into the dark interior of the barn. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom Mistral could see signs of a hasty evacuation. A single boot poked out from beneath a discarded cloak, as though the owner were asleep beneath it. Mistral stepped carefully over it to peer into one of the stalls and gasped when a pair of eyes looked back at her out of the straw, but it was only a child’s rag doll, sadly forgotten.

  They searched each stall, but aside from the overturned water buckets that had obviously been kicked over by hurrying feet, they were all empty. Mistral and the twins took the task of settling the horses with fresh water and hay while Bali went to scout around the village to try and pick up the trail left by the troll. He was back before long, slipping quietly into the dark barn with a satisfied expression on his face.

  ‘We’re in luck, there’s a fresh trail. It must’ve been in last night.’

  The twins shared a look that suggested this was far from lucky but said nothing. Mistral nodded and swung her saddlebag onto her shoulder.

  ‘Ready when you are.’

  Feeling strangely vulnerable at being on foot, they followed Bali along the empty main street. He walked quickly, keeping to the shadows and darting down the first alleyway that they came to. Mistral and the twins followed him, heaving simultaneous sighs of relief to be away from the exposed main street.

  The narrow alleyway ran between the houses for a short distance then tapered off into a rutted track, leading them up into the open mountainside. It was a herder’s track, used to drive the sheep to and from pasture. Tufts of wiry mountain grass and large rocks littered the path, hampering the speed at which they could travel. Mistral and the twins struggled up the path behind Bali, tripping over rocks and slipping on piles of sheep droppings. Suddenly the path widened out into the start of the pastureland and the lingering aroma of dung and greasy wool was abruptly obliterated by a powerful odour that made the twins stop and retch.

  Phantasm wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, ‘Definitely troll.’

  ‘You think?’ Phantom muttered faintly.

  Ignoring the twins’ complaints, Bali continued to follow the track, stopping often to check the wind direction or just to stand perfectly still, listening intently. Mistral began to grow impatient and fidgeted irritably each time Bali’s hand came up to signal a halt.

  ‘It’ll be nightfall by the time we get there at this rate,’ she hissed under her breath to the twins.

  Sharing a look of panic at the thought of being stuck on the mountainside at night, the twins took to sidling up to Bali whenever he stopped to ask in an urgent whisper whether this was where he wanted them to be positioned. Each time he shook his head they slunk back to Mistral’s side with barely concealed disappointment on their faces.

  The rough track they were following wound through a copse of gorse bushes then ended in an open area of pasture, bordered on one side by steep mountainside. Bali signalled a halt again but before Mistral could start getting restless he pointed wordlessly to a dark gash in the rockface.

  ‘There,’ he breathed.

  They all stared. The opening was definitely wide enough to accommodate a large troll and the stench had become noticeably stronger. Mistral narrowed her eyes, focussing on the cave but couldn’t see much beyond the mouth, it was too dark.

  Motioning for them to follow his lead, Bali swiftly dropped down and crawled a short way back down the track until he reached a large boulder. He slipped behind it and lifted himself into a crouch, leaning his back against the rock while Mistral and the twins crept back to join him. Once they were all squeezed in together Bali stood up and peered carefully over the top of the boulder, satisfied that they were hidden from view, he dropped back down and began to issue his whispered instructions.

  ‘Phantasm, Phantom; crawl, don’t walk, across the pasture. Phantasm, you will position yourself there,’ he pointed to a pile of rocks, ‘and Phantom, I want you to be over there,’ he pointed again, indicating a clu
mp of low growing gorse bushes. ‘Now, do you have your crossbows and bolts?’

  The twins nodded mutely, their faces identical masks of tension.

  ‘Good, here is a bottle of poison – but be very careful! If one drop touches your skin then you’ll be no good to Mistral and I. Only dip your bolts when the troll appears or it will dry out,’ he warned, handing them a small black bottle each.

  ‘We may have quite a while until we need to act. If the wind stays down our scent won’t carry and the troll will have no idea we’re here, so be prepared to wait this out until the sun sets and he wakes up.’

  The twins nodded once and were gone, moving quickly across the stony ground towards their designated points.

  Bali watched them leave and did not look at Mistral until they had taken up their positions and were completely concealed. Then he turned to her and indicated back towards the cave with a lift of his chin.

  ‘Do you see the ledge just above the cave mouth?’

  Mistral peered around the rock at the cave, her eyes searching the rockface above it. After a moment she saw what Bali was referring to, a narrow rocky outcrop slightly to the right of the entrance.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘Do you think you can climb up there without making any noise?’

  Mistral studied it briefly. It wasn’t a particularly difficult climb, as long she was careful not to disturb any loose rocks she was sure she could do it silently.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Good,’ he nodded. ‘I’ll cover you until you’re in position. If you get up there without disturbing the troll then I’m going to move and hide over there,’ he indicated to a shallow dip in the pasture land, directly in front of the cave mouth. ‘We’ll be in direct sight of each other so silent communication will be easy to make.’

  Mistral nodded. All Ri warriors were taught a special code to enable them to communicate without speaking during Contracts.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked, handing her a small black bottle.

  Mistral carefully stored the bottle in her jerkin pocket then took a deep breath, ‘Oh yes,’ she said with a small smile.

  Bali returned the smile, ‘Good luck sister.’

  Mistral dropped to her belly and edged towards the cave mouth, heedless of the jagged stones that bit into her elbows and knees. It seemed to take an age for her to reach the base of the rock. She moved in tiny increments, every shuffling sound of earth and rock sliding away beneath her seemed louder than a thunderclap. She would freeze with each slight noise, fully expecting to hear the troll roar and emerge from the depths of his cave.

  The troll didn’t awaken, making Mistral wonder if it was actually even in its lair but as the cave loomed closer the stench grew unbearable. She grimaced and held her breath while she crawled. The troll was definitely in there.

  Mistral finally reached the base of the rockface. She sat back onto her heels she immediately began to study the rock above her for hand holds. She was in luck. The rockface was riddled with flaws and splits any child could climb. Quickly buckling her saddlebag to her back Mistral began to climb, moving stealthily up the rockface without stopping and only letting herself breathe freely again once she had hauled herself onto the rocky platform that Bali had pointed out to her.

  She knelt down on the ledge and looked at the pastureland below her, searching for Bali. She saw him easily, crouched by the large boulder with his crossbow trained on the cave mouth. Just as he’d promised, Bali had provided cover for her until she was safely on the ledge. Mistral raised her hand to signal that she was in position and Bali dropped swiftly out of sight, crawling through the long grass to take up his position.

  Then the waiting began. Time seemed to inch by with unbearable slowness. It was only just past midday and Mistral was already beginning to feel the numb ache brought on by sitting in the same position for too long. The rest of the day stretched out before her like a prison sentence. She rested her head back against the hard stone and began to count the grazing sheep to stave off boredom. She had already checked and rechecked her crossbow and bolts twice over. They were laid ready beside her with the small bottle of poison wedged securely in a niche next to them. Her stomach growled – food was the one thing she had overlooked to bring. Checking the twins for the hundredth time, she could just make out the shine of each pale blonde head. Bali was harder to spot. He had hidden himself so thoroughly that if Mistral hadn’t already known where he was, she would never have noticed the hint of darker colouring in the grass that indicated where he lay.

  The weather changed as the afternoon wore by with the matt grey sky gradually giving way to patches of bright blue, letting the occasional ray of sunlight filter through. But any warmth that the sun offered was lost when a breeze sprang up, making Mistral shiver on her exposed rocky perch. She wondered if the breeze was strong enough to carry their scent into the cave and alert the troll. With an impatient scowl Mistral half-hoped it would; at least then there would be some action.

  She was just considering checking her crossbow for the third time when an odd sound was carried to her on the wind. It was so out of place that Mistral immediately thought she’d imagined it – then it rang out again. The unmistakable sound of laughter.

  Alarmed, Mistral rocked forward into a kneeling position and scanned the meadow for the source of the laughter. She could see the twins’ heads moving rapidly from side to side. They had obviously heard the sound too and were also trying to locate whoever was about to unwittingly ruin their troll hunt.

  Mistral swore when she finally spotted three figures approaching along the herder’s path. Narrowing her eyes to see more clearly she could make out three teenage boys. Their simple style of dress and the direction they were coming from suggested that they were locals from the mountain village. The boys were swaggering cockily, jostling one another and behaving with the brash overconfidence that suggested they had egged each other on to do something dangerous. As the breeze gusted more strongly around her, Mistral knew for certain that it would be blowing their scent right into the cave. The noise they were making was enough to wake the dead, never mind a troll. She quickly uncorked the black bottle of poison and dipped a bolt into it before loading it carefully into her crossbow. It looked as though the hunt was going to start earlier than Bali had predicted.

  Mistral looked up and frowned when another burst of raucous laughter rang out. The sudden thought crossed her mind that the three boys were not up here by accident. She peered out across the meadow again. They had moved closer now and she could see them more clearly. She realised with a sinking feeling that they looked to be of the right age to have just begun training in the Craft. Could they possibly have been so naive as to think they could have a go at using their newfound skills on a troll? Her fears were quickly confirmed when she watched them laughing and taking it in turns to try and cast on each other, their weak attempts barely causing a ripple in the air around them. With a quiet groan Mistral realised that the villagers who had paid hard-earned money to save lives were about to lose three sons. Trolls were impervious to sorcery.

  The rock beneath her feet shuddered. Mistral stumbled and almost dropped her crossbow. Her resulting curse of anger was drowned out by a loud roar.

  The troll was awake.

  Mistral swiftly dropped to one knee at the edge of her platform and trained her crossbow downwards, ready to fire the moment it appeared. Then everything seemed to happen at once. The troll lumbered heavily out of the shadowy mouth of the cave and hesitated, blinded by the bright sunlight. Mistral curled her finger around the crossbow trigger and tensed ready, but the troll had stopped right in the entrance and was just out of her range, protected by the overhang of rock she was kneeling on.

  The village boys and the troll saw each other at exactly the same time. All their bravado vanished when the troll suddenly lurched forward with a ferocious snarl and began to lumber towards them. Two bolts thudded into the rock where a split second before the troll’s head had b
een. The twins had missed.

  Mistral had her first clear view of the troll as it broke into a heavy run towards the terrified huddle of boys. It was twice the size of a normal man and covered in coarse reddish coloured hair, except for its domed head, which was completely bald. Muscular legs and overlong arms gave it an apelike appearance that was added to by an ungainly loping gait. Mistral followed its progress across the meadow with her crossbow. She had a clear shot at its back but doubted that a bolt would penetrate the thick pelt. Quickly adjusting her aim for the leathery folds of skin at the base of the troll’s skull, Mistral pulled the trigger. A loud snap followed by the whizz of her bolt flying through the air was punctuated by her muttered oath when her bolt thudded uselessly into the earth. A double whine rang out; the twins had fired again. One bolt went wide but the second struck the troll in the shoulder. Mistral’s shout of triumph died on her lips when the troll didn’t even register the bolt’s impact but continued to run towards the frozen group of boys.

  The troll was now almost upon Bali’s hiding place and the poisoned bolt didn’t appear to have slowed it down at all. Mistral quickly reloaded and tilted her head to take aim, she crooked her finger around the trigger and started to squeeze only to halt with a hiss of frustration; she daren’t fire for fear of striking Bali.

  Bali had so far not fired a shot and she hadn’t seen him move. Mistral guessed that he would be waiting until the last minute to get a clear shot at the more vulnerable skin around the troll’s throat. Mistral held her breath as the troll lumbered closer to where Bali lay; he was cutting in fine ... too fine. Lifting her crossbow Mistral took aim once more but before she could fire the troll suddenly reeled drunkenly. The poison had finally started to take effect. Disorientated, it stumbled away, roaring and shaking its head. The village boys immediately noticed its strange behaviour and some of their previous confidence began to return. Mistral watched with fresh horror as they started pushing each other towards the dazed troll.