The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘We’re being tracked.’ Phantasm muttered, barely moved his lips.

  ‘Look at the treeline on our right, but try to be subtle!’ Phantom hissed.

  Mistral didn’t turn her head but looked out of the corner of her eye at the edge of the forests. At first she couldn’t see anything but the dapple of light and shade under the canopy of the branches. After a few seconds she noticed an indistinct shape, too slim and tall to be an animal, sliding through the shadows keeping pace with them.

  ‘I see it,’ she murmured. ‘But what is it?’

  ‘Not it, them. Elves,’ breathed Phantasm, keeping his gaze fixed steadfastly in front of him.

  Mistral frowned. Ri Warriors were guaranteed safe passage through any territory in the pursuit of their work. It was written in the laws of the Isle.

  ‘Why are they tracking us?’ she whispered.

  ‘Don’t know. Hope we don’t have to find out.’

  As if in answer to his mutter they all immediately heard the unmistakable sound of an arrow whistling through the air and the dull thud of its metal head burying into the earth a short distance away from them. A warning shot had been fired.

  The startled horses snorted and wheeled nervously; fighting against their riders.

  ‘Rein them in! We must remain where we are,’ hissed Phantasm urgently. ‘If we run they will shoot us down!’

  Cursing herself for not wearing her armour as they were always advised to do, Mistral fought to control Cirrus. But her wilful horse had other ideas, he rolled his eyes wildly and reared, trying to escape the danger he instinctively felt.

  ‘Sometimes I wish I had fallen for something a bit more docile,’ she growled and sawed at the reins, fighting to bring his head down.

  The more biddable Jupiter and Mars were soon back under control. Influenced by the two steadier horses Cirrus gradually calmed down and consented to stand almost still, allowing Mistral to fractionally loosen her grip and ease the screaming tension in her arms.

  ‘They’re approaching.’ Phantasm whispered, staring at the treeline with narrowed eyes.

  Mistral followed his gaze to see half a dozen elves walking towards them, each armed with the distinctive longbow they favoured.

  ‘Let me do the talking,’ he added swiftly. ‘I think we can negotiate our way out of this alive, or they would have shot us before now.’

  Mistral felt a chill of fear run through her. She hadn’t appreciated how dangerous their situation was until Phantasm said those words. Looking again at the approaching elves, Mistral studied them carefully. They were all males, tall and lithe, moving with the athletic grace of their race. Their hair was long and fair, tied back at the nape of the neck to expose their wild faces. As they drew closer Mistral could see that they had obviously been travelling for a while; there were leaves in their hair and their traditional leather trousers and rough woven tunics were dirty and torn. She hoped they weren’t a renegade group of outcasts, she didn’t fancy their chances against six of the notoriously fierce forest elves.

  ‘Hail brothers,’ called Phantasm in a clear confident voice.

  ‘Hail to the Ri!’ responded one of the elves. His voice had a pleasing musical quality to it, like a silver bell being struck; it was in complete discord with the expression on his face, which was hard and mistrustful.

  The group of elves came to a halt a short distance away from the three apprentices and the elf who had spoken stepped forward to address them again.

  ‘Why are you in our territory?’ he asked in his ringing voice.

  ‘Just travelling through, brother,’ replied Phantasm smoothly. ‘Our Contract requires our presence further away and this was the best route. We apologise if we caused any offense; I assure you it was unintentional.’

  The elf regarded him coldly, ‘What is the nature of your Contract?’

  ‘Brother, you know that is information I am unable to divulge.’ Phantasm responded in a regretful tone.

  ‘Maybe so, but answer me this: are you Contracted to slay one of my kind?’

  ‘No we are not.’

  ‘Do you know of such a Contract being issued within the last two moons?’

  Phantasm made a show of thinking for a moment before shaking his head, ‘I do not,’ he replied sincerely.

  The elf studied Phantasm for a long moment and then nodded, ‘I believe you are telling me the truth. You may continue your journey with no further opposition from us – but warn your brothers! A Ri warrior took one of our own not two moons ago and we will have revenge.’

  ‘I hear you brother, thank you for our continued safe passage,’ said Phantasm quietly and, without speaking to either Phantom or Mistral, he urged Jupiter on.

  Shooting one last curious glance at the elves Mistral followed after him. She could feel their eyes boring into the back of her head as she rode away, making the hairs on her neck stand on end. It felt unnatural to turn her back to danger. Mistral tensed, expecting at any moment to hear the sound of a bow being drawn; her hand twitched automatically for the crossbow hung on her saddle.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ warned Phantasm in a low voice.

  They rode at a slow pace in total silence until Mistral felt the prickle of fear subside and knew instinctively that the elves had gone. Risking a glance over her shoulder, Mistral confirmed her suspicions. The meadow and the treeline behind them were clear.

  ‘They’ve gone,’ she said with a relieved sigh and turned back to face the twins. ‘Now can you please tell me what that was all about?’

  ‘Not yet,’ muttered Phantasm. ‘We need to put a bit more distance between us and those elves before we can speak freely; their hearing is phenomenal.’

  They did not speak again until it was late afternoon and the heavy warmth of the autumn sun forced them to move closer to the trees again to ride in the shade.

  Phantasm looked around cautiously; his green eyes narrowed in concentration while he studied the woodland around them.

  ‘This is not tribe territory. It’s safe to talk now,’ he finally muttered.

  ‘How can you tell?’ Mistral asked, looking around curiously. The stretch of forest around them looked exactly like any other to her.

  ‘Elves leave signs; warnings to other tribes that this is their territory. They are very hard to see unless you know what you are looking for. Our tribe of sylvads have a similar system; we’ve been passing markers for the last couple of hours but they’ve stopped now.’

  Mistral absorbed this clue to the twin’s past in silence. It was not the right time to quiz them about their upbringing but she was intrigued and made a mental note to ask them about it when the opportunity arose.

  Phantom looked at his brother and frowned, ‘Who would take out an Assassination Contract on a tribal elf?’

  ‘I don’t know who would order one,’ said Phantasm looking thoughtful. ‘But I think I know who carried it out.’

  ‘Who?’ Mistral asked.

  ‘Well, two moons ago was just over two months in my estimations, elves always work things out by the lunar calendar which can be a bit misleading, however by my reckoning, that was when we took the Contract to hunt the troll.’

  Mistral fell silent while she recalled the different Contracts that had been issued that day. She called up a clear image in her mind of all the apprentices gathered eagerly outside of Gleacher Shacklock’s office. Grendel had been given a herd of escaped Bonacon, Golden got to escort a Council Official and Konrad –’

  ‘Konrad!’ Mistral gasped as she remembered the perpetually moody apprentice walking past her clutching a Contract written in strange brown ink that had actually been blood. ‘He took an Assassination Contract that day, I remember it!’

  Phantasm nodded but Phantom looked at him with a perplexed expression on his face, ‘We can’t be certain it was Konrad. It could have just as easily been a Contract issued by one of the other Agents in the Valley to any of the warriors they have on their books.’

  ‘I agree. Ho
wever, you must admit it is a bit of a coincidence though isn’t it?’ Phantasm said, giving his brother a meaningful look. ‘Assassination Contracts aren’t all that common. What are the chances of two being taken out at the same time, and so close to the Valley? Master Shacklock specifically gives his first year apprentices Contract’s close to the Valley so that if anything goes wrong they won’t have to search very far for them.’

  Mistral grimaced, thinking of the ride down from the Eastern Range with her leading a horse carrying Bali’s lifeless body strapped to it. Things had gone about as wrong as they could do that day.

  ‘Alright, I admit that it makes sense. But who would take out a Contract on a tribal elf? Another elf?’ Phantom asked sceptically.

  Phantasm shook his head and looked thoughtful, ‘No, elves don’t need outsiders to do their dirty work for them. You saw how they were today! They would have had absolutely no qualms about killing all three of us if we’d given them the slightest reason to suspect that we were involved in their kinsman’s death. It would have to be a Mage; someone that wanted to remain anonymous of course –’ his voice trailed off as he gazed broodingly at the sky.

  A sudden thought struck Mistral. ‘Phantasm,’ she began hesitantly. ‘Did you lie to that elf?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Phantasm asked distractedly, still deep in thought.

  ‘That elf back there. You know, the one that wanted to kill us, remember?’ Mistral persisted, a hard edge creeping into her voice. ‘You told him quite clearly that you had no knowledge of an assignation Contract being taken two months ago – I heard you!’

  Phantasm finally gave her his full attention, ‘Mistral,’ he said in an exasperated voice. ‘Lying convincingly is the first rule of survival in Council politics! My brother and I grew up watching the experts! Of course we can lie well, and anyway, do you really think I could have told those elves the truth? They would have killed us on the spot for certain!’

  Mistral looked slightly shocked, ‘I shall never trust anything you tell me ever again!’

  ‘Oh, come on Mistral! We wouldn’t lie to you! It’s too much fun telling you the truth and watching you lose your temper about it.’

  ‘I don’t lose my temper when you tell me the truth!’

  ‘So,’ said Phantasm slowly, ‘how about the time we told you that Bali was more suited to be the leader on the troll hunt than you? Did you accept that truth with grace and dignity?’

  ‘Of course I did!’ Mistral snapped haughtily.

  The twins laughed and continued to relate stories of the many times Mistral had thrown a tantrum over something she hadn’t wanted to accept. The rest of the afternoon passed by without any event other than Mistral having to bear the brunt of the twins’ sharp-witted comments. She bit her tongue and suffered in silence, just managing to keep her temper in check. Mistral knew they were only winding her up and she also knew that it was deserved. The feeling of guilt over persuading them to accept the doomed Contract was all that kept her from losing her temper and riding off in a huff.

  They camped that night at the base of a short ridge. The village of Nevelte lay in the valley just over the rise but it was too late to ride in. Darkness would be falling soon and Mistral had no wish to spend a whole night in the village. A brief passing visit that entailed not even getting off Cirrus was more what she had in mind.

  Mistral and the twins spent the evening playing long games of knucklebones; all of which Phantom won – of course. He was an excellent player and an incorrigible cheat.

  ‘The company I keep!’ Mistral exclaimed in a disgusted voice and handed another bronze coin to a grinning Phantom. ‘Liars and cheats!’

  ‘Whatever next?’ Phantom asked mockingly and dropped the coin into his leather pouch. ‘Thieves and assassins?’

  They all laughed.

  ‘Let’s get some sleep,’ Phantasm suggested with a yawn. ‘I want to be fresh for tomorrow. It’s going to be a big day.’

  ‘No it’s not,’ muttered Mistral throwing him a black look.

  ‘Oh come on, it’ll be great! Is there a tavern in the village? If there is I’ll buy us all a drink!’ Phantom gave his money pouch a smug shake.

  Mistral scowled at them both and rolled herself into her cloak, pointedly facing away from them. They laughed and finished the game they were playing before rolling themselves in their cloaks and settling down for the night. Mistral lay awake for a long while, listening to the gentle murmur of their hushed conversation until they both eventually fell asleep. The silence was bliss; sometimes Mistral found the twins’ constant chatter a bit wearing. She was actually surprised that they didn’t talk in their sleep.

  Mistral rolled onto her back and gazed up at the night sky. The twins had refused to camp near the trees out of concern that the Blackheart Wolverines might attack them while they slept. They’d made camp further out in the open instead and it was cold away from the shelter of the trees, but the view of the sky was worth it. The stars shone like thousands of diamonds scattered over black velvet and seemed to gleam with a brighter intensity than they did over the Valley. Sleep was a long time coming. Mistral fell to trying to count the stars in an effort to encourage her mind to shut down but her thoughts kept returning with monotonous regularity to the Contract, Leo Sphinx and Fabian De Winter.

  Phantasm was right, something just didn’t ring true with this Contract. Why hadn’t Leo just travelled to meet Mage Grapple himself? Or even go to The Desert Lands? It wasn’t unheard of for Leo to take mercenary work. In fact, their Training Captain was notorious for abandoning his apprentices at the drop of a hat and charging off half way around the world to fight wars in obscure lands. And as for Fabian De Winter, Mistral suddenly grew angry – trying to conceal his true intentions from her was a mistake. Mistral scowled to herself in the dark as she recalled the emotions she had seen in his aura. Love! She almost spat the word out aloud. What a chivalrous fool he was! Arranging a rescue mission for a woman that didn’t want him! Mistral wasn’t fooled by the flimsy cover story about Count Putreo’s intentions. Words lied, but auras didn’t. She sighed angrily to herself. It was a mess ... that was for sure. Everyone seemed to want to achieve some selfish end from this Contract and she’d recklessly landed her and the twins right into the middle of it. As usual.

  Return To Nevelte

  Mistral woke at dawn with the persisting feeling of something unpleasant looming. She looked up at the pale dawn sky and remembered with a groan that today she had agreed to return to her home village.

  ‘Good morning!’ Phantom called cheerfully and paused in his task of rolling up his cloak to grin at her. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful morning for a little family visit?’

  Mistral scowled at him and crawled stiffly out from under her cloak.

  ‘Oh dear, did someone not get enough sleep last night?’ Phantasm asked with a smile.

  He was preparing a breakfast from yesterday’s leftover lunch and Mistral stomped over to take a piece of bread and cold meat from him, biting into it hungrily.

  ‘I’m going to ignore your brother’s pathetic attempts to irritate me,’ she snapped, ‘and focus on the Contract, which I have been thinking about for most of the night actually.’

  ‘Well you can stop right there,’ said Phantom firmly. ‘Because I don’t want anything to ruin the fun we’re going to have finding out all about Mistral Junior’s exploits. I wonder,’ he mused with a happy look on his face, ‘have you always been so very objectionable or is it a recent development to your general sunny nature? I can’t wait to find out!’

  Mistral closed her eyes and counted to ten, breathing deeply. She had resolved not to let the twins make her lose her temper today. It was going to be an uncomfortable enough visit without her letting slip the angry words that were on the tip of her tongue and offending the twins. When they sulked it was usually an epic event that went on for days.

  Leaving the twins to finish their breakfast, Mistral went to retrieve Cirrus and saddle him ready for the journey. She
took her time brushing him down, finding the contact with the horse soothing. He dipped his soft muzzle into her hand, looking for a treat.

  ‘I haven’t got anything, I’m sorry boy,’ she murmured regretfully and rubbed his ears by way of an apology.

  Cirrus blew air out through his nostrils into her palm in a warm gust, as though trying to reassure her that it didn’t matter.

  ‘At least you accept me for who I am and not who I was,’ she muttered morosely to him as she slid the saddle onto his back.

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic Mistral,’ chided Phantasm walking up behind her carrying Jupiter’s saddle in his arms. ‘You know we won’t judge you.’

  ‘Then why are you making me go through this?’ Mistral demanded petulantly.

  Phantasm shrugged and looked at her with a mischievous glint in his green eyes, ‘Just feeling impish I guess. But it could be something to do with the fact that you owe us a little payback for the pretty much unachievable Contract you signed us up to.’

  Mistral raised her eyes upwards and fought to hold her rising temper, ‘Fine,’ she muttered. ‘Let’s just go shall we.’

  ‘Ah, finally. The enthusiasm we’ve been waiting to see.’

  Ignoring him, Mistral swung herself up into the saddle and turned Cirrus around to the face the small ridge that separated her from the village she’d grown up in. With a resigned sigh, she kicked Cirrus into a trot. Flanked on either side by the eager-faced twins, they began to ascend the short slope.

  They quickly gained the summit of the short ridge. Mistral reined Cirrus to a halt and gazed down at the tiny village of Nevelte, nestling below them in the bowl shaped valley. Smoke was rising from one or two chimneys, signalling that some of the villagers were already up and going about their daily business.

  ‘Very picturesque,’ said Phantasm approvingly. ‘I can’t wait to see your old house.’

  Mistral shot him a cold look, ‘It’s pointless stopping, Mage Grapple obviously isn’t here, or we’d be able to see his army. I think we should ride on.’