The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (50 page)

Xerxes sighed happily and gazed
off into space, his spoon of porridge hovering halfway to his open mouth.

Cain shrugged and reached for the
waterskin, ‘Pretty standard stuff really.’

‘So no-one really noticed my little
fight then?’ 

‘No Mistral, though I am
beginning to wonder if you’ve got a thing about goblins.’  Saul remarked,
reaching out to take a bowl of porridge.

‘What can I say?  They’ve
got the kind of faces that beg to be punched.’

‘Forget your tendency to bully
small people.’  Cain leaned over, frowning at Mistral.  ‘Was I having
a nightmare or did I really hear that you and Columbine were swimming together
this morning?’

‘Yes, it appears that we have the
pleasure of her company again.’  Phantom replied while Mistral glared at
Cain.

‘I’ve just had a scary
thought!’  Xerxes sat bolt upright with a horrified look on his face.

‘Do share brother.’  Brutus
said with a sigh.

‘Columbine.  Was she dressed
when she fled or not?’

‘Not.’  Mistral confirmed
shortly.

Xerxes closed his eyes with a
quiet groan and placed his bowl of porridge down on the ground, ‘Your dog can
have that when he comes back,’ he muttered.

‘I’m hoping he’ll have already
eaten when he comes back.’  

‘Columbine showing up is not
entirely unexpected is it?’  Saul said thoughtfully.  ‘We knew there
was a strong chance she’d seek you out in revenge for losing Golden. 
Don’t worry Mistral.  You’re well protected.  We’re all here.’

Mistral rolled her eyes, ‘How
would I cope without you all?  Talking of which, where is Grendel?  I
can’t smell him anywhere.’

Cain smirked, ‘Believe it or not
our fragrant brother was a big hit with the nymphs.’  

‘They said he was a “real man” or
something.’  Brutus laughed.  ‘He didn’t come back at all last
night!’

Mistral closed her eyes. 
Grendel and the nymphs … it just didn’t bear thinking about …

‘Brother!’  Phantom’s
relieved cry made them all look up to see Phantasm striding towards them with
Prospero trotting by his side.

‘What news?’  Xerxes called
urgently.

Phantasm shook his head, an ugly
scowl marring his angel’s face, ‘I searched the whole area but found nothing.
 Prospero came back to me after a while so I guess he had no luck either.’

Cain frowned, ‘She’ll have got in
the river and swum away.  Prospero wouldn’t have been able to follow her
scent once she was in the water.  Gargillians are naturally water-dwelling
creatures that only really come onto land when they want a change of diet.’

‘Didn’t you fancy fish for
breakfast boy?’  Mistral reached out to rub Prospero’s ears.  He
wagged his tail once then collapsed at her feet and promptly fell asleep.

Saul gazed over at the sea of
tents, rippling lightly in the breeze, ‘So she’s still out there, somewhere.’

Phantasm’s scowl had given way to
a worried look, ‘I don’t think you should race this morning Mistral.’  

‘Forget it brother.  I’m
racing.  Anyway, I’ll be safer surrounded by a couple of hundred Arcanes
than I will be sat here waiting for her to crawl up and murder me!’

Phantasm regarded her stubborn
expression then sighed, ‘I suppose you may have a point there.’

‘Talking of the race, it’s time
we got the horses ready.’  Brutus stood up and tied back his hair. 

‘I assume it’s unarmed?’ 
Mistral asked, sliding her favourite dagger down inside one of her fur-topped
boots.

‘Naturally.’  Brutus slipped
a knife into the back of his belt.

‘I love the Arcanes.  They
cheat so openly.  It’s such a refreshing change from devious Mages.’
 Cain sighed, concealing two small daggers in the wrist bands beneath his
shirt.

‘Right!  Time for a
plan!’  Xerxes announced in a business-like voice.  ‘We protect each
other at the start when the brawling is heavy.  Then when the race starts
–’

‘It’s every brother for
themselves.’  Cain finished with a grin.  ‘And I’ll be seeing you at
the finish line – over my shoulder!’

‘Dream on brother!  However,
let me just check I’ve got all your predicted places down on my sheet before we
go.’  Xerxes drew a battered piece of parchment from his top pocket,
frowning seriously. 

Mistral leaned over his shoulder
to read the bets, ‘You reckon you’re going to win this one do you Cain?’ 

‘Venus is fast.’  Cain said
confidently.

‘She’s quick.’  Mistral
agreed.  ‘But it’s two laps of the Vale.  Stamina is going to come
into play and that’s where Cirrus will come into his own.’

‘Ah, but I have a strategy worked
out.  I’ll gain the lead then hold steady in front, keeping a burst in
reserve for the home run.’

‘Hmm, not a bad plan –’

Cain and Mistral continued their
conversation while they walked over to the makeshift horse enclosure.  The
horses were to be ridden without saddles or bridles as a true test of their
rider’s abilities, but as Mistral and Cain began to plait a small loop of
leather into their horses’ manes to provide a hold they looked around to see
other Arcanes making similar preparations.

‘It warms my heart to see a bit
of good old-fashioned cheating.’  Cain grinned then winked at Mistral and
opened his jerkin to reveal his battered silver flask.  ‘Pick me up?’

‘Is it your special one?’ 
Mistral asked, eyeing it dubiously.

‘The same … and I won’t tell if
you don’t!’

‘Then, yes please! 
Manticore poison is probably the only thing that’s going to shift my hangover
this morning.  I feel like Grendel is playing the drums inside my head.’

Cain laughed, ‘I think Grendel is
going to be occupied playing something else today.’

‘Huh, until he runs out of
money.’  Mistral muttered and took a swig from Cain’s flask.  ‘That
hasn’t improved!’  she gasped and handed it back with watering eyes.

‘No?  I quite like it now.’
 Cain shrugged and slipped the flask back inside his jerkin.  ‘In
fact I was thinking about trying to get it licensed.’

‘You’ve got more chance of
winning this race than getting that licensed!’ 

‘Don’t listen to her.’  Cain
crooned affectionately to his mare.  ‘We’ll show them today won’t
we?  Small and fleet of foot, that’s my girl.’

‘Sounds like Hermes last
night!  Did you see him running from that amazon?’  Brutus asked,
strolling over to begin grooming his horse.

Cain laughed, ‘I’d forgotten
about that!  Did she catch him?’

‘Yes.’  Brutus grimaced.
 ‘He screamed for mercy.  Not a memory I intend to keep.’  

‘And what will you two be doing
while we’re having some fun?  The laundry?’  Mistral called to the
twins when they sauntered over to join in the conversation.

‘Holding Prospero back from
attacking everyone near you I should imagine.’  Phantom said in a resigned
voice.

Mistral frowned, ‘Yes, he’s not
going to like all the fighting at the start.  If I were you I’d get down
to the feast tables before they’re cleared away.  A plate of leftovers
would keep him occupied.  Failing that he seems to want to have a go at
the tribe of fairies that are here.  You could let him chase them for a
while.’

‘No thanks.  They remind me
too much of Eudora.’ 

‘Well, in the absence of a fairy
to chew on, I’ve bought this.’  Phantasm produced a length of rope and
looped it around Prospero’s neck.  He growled and began to chew it at
it.  ‘Yes I thought you’d do that.’  Phantasm commented then smiled
when the dog stopped and rubbed a paw over his muzzle.  ‘That’s why I
smeared it with crushed mustard seeds.’

‘Phantasm!  That’s just
nasty!’

‘Enough chat!’  Xerxes
bellowed, vaulting onto his horse.  ‘It’s time to race!’

‘Look after my dog!’  Mistral
threatened and wound her hand into the leather loop in Cirrus’ mane to pull
herself up. 

The twins watched them ride out
of the enclosure and join the other Arcanes making their way to the starting
point.

‘So we’re agreed.’  Phantasm
began in a low voice while he was towed after them by Prospero.  ‘We focus
on persuading anyone near Mistral to suddenly want to brawl with the person on
their other side so she can get safely onto Cirrus –’

‘And then persuade her
not
to want to win the race.’  Phantom finished grimly.  ‘The last thing
we want is her in the final.  I’m sure I heard a gorgon screaming in the
night.’

They had reached the starting
point; the large enclosure at the north end of the Vale.  Horses were
milling excitedly, their riders’ cursing the lack of bit and reins to curb
them.  Cirrus wheeled beneath Mistral, affording her a whirling glimpse of
the waterfall where Columbine had been hiding. 

‘She’s not there now
Mistral.’  Cain said sharply and slid from his mare’s back.  ‘Come
on.  Get that brute of a horse into the enclosure with the others. 
We start on foot, remember?’

‘Uh, of course.’  Mistral
tore her gaze away from the waterfall and leapt from Cirrus.  Tugging him
by the mane she led him into the enclosure with the other horses.  He
immediately lashed out with both heels, eliciting a squeal of pain from the
horse he’d kicked.

‘You two are so suited.’ 
Cain muttered and slapped Venus on the rump, urging her away from Cirrus.

 ‘Arcane kinsmen … and
women!’

The sound of Bryden Wolfsnare’s
rich voice rose above the noise of the crowd gathered around the horse
enclosure.  He strode into view, a tall and composed, dressed in
traditional leather trousers and jerkin.  As well as the bow slung over
his shoulder he also wore a sword at his waist.

‘I bid you all good morning and
trust that you slept well –’

Bryden paused to allow a ripple
of laughter to subside.  The nymphs had swayed into view with a dazed
looked Grendel lumbering along in their midst.

‘We begin this festival with a
race.  Competitors will gather on foot behind the two markers.’ he drew
his sword and pointed to where two stakes had been driven into the ground
several metres apart.  Mistral noted that the one nearest her had a small
red cross painted on it.

‘When my arrow strikes the target
on the far marker you will begin.  Retrieve your horse and ride.  The
first rider to complete two circuits of the Vale and cross back between the
markers, still mounted –’

‘And still alive.’  Phantom
muttered under his breath.

‘– will be declared the
winner!  Do you all understand the rules?’

There was a resounding roar.

‘Then we begin!’

He sheaved his sword and drew his
bow.  The competitors hurried to take their places between the two wooden
markers.  Mistral found herself between Xerxes and Brutus and suppressed a
spurt of irritation.  It looked like her brothers were going to continue
with the annoying overprotective act.  She glanced down the line to her
right and immediately saw that tribes had strategically positioned their best
riders between larger, burly looking members to give them the best chance of
reaching their horses unscathed. 

The amazons towered above the
yarthkin tribe they were next to, favouring their impatient jostling with
coldly disdainful looks.  Mistral smiled, glad not to be stood near the
fierce-looking warrior women.  Glancing quickly to her left she saw that
Samson and the rest of the Ri warriors were next to a group of forest
sylvads.  Slightly built and graceful, they would no doubt evade the thick
of the fighting by running swiftly for their horses.  Her eyes roved over
the horses milling nervously in the enclosure, seeking out Cirrus.  She
soon found him, snapping irritably at the horse next to him.  Mistral
smiled.  He would not be hard to locate when she started running. 
There was already a clear space around him where the other horses were giving
her bad-tempered horse a wide berth.  She guessed there would be a lot of
borrowing the nearest horse that came to hand and felt sorry for anyone that
tried to take hers. 

A taut silence fell when Bryden
stepped forward with his bow held in his right hand.  Mistral’s eyes
gleamed with sudden excitement.  The race was about to begin.  She
held her breath and watched him fit an arrow and draw the string tight, angling
it carefully towards the red marker on the wooden stake.  The silence
seemed to thicken and deepen until Bryden released the string with a sharp
snap.  A low gasp ran through the onlookers but the competitors remained
silent, only their eyes moved to follow the arrow’s progress through the
air.  It flew straight and true to drive into the centre of the red cross
with a resounding thud.  The race had begun.

A huge cheer went up as the
competitors immediately began to brawl; dragging neighbouring tribe members
back to allow their best riders to run unhindered for the enclosure.
 Mistral dodged the elf that lunged for her and sprinted forwards. 
She passed Brutus swearing at the goblins swarming around him, kneecapping
anyone in their path with small wooden clubs concealed inside their shirts.
 A hand grabbed at her leather jerkin and Mistral immediately swung a fist
backwards.  She heard a grunt of pain then whoever had been trying to pull
her back let go.  Reaching the wooden rail of the enclosure Mistral
vaulted over and began to run amongst the wheeling herd of horses.  The
sylvads were ahead of her, weaving lightly between the startled horses. 
Not blessed with the sylvads’ grace, Mistral simply gritted her teeth and
barged through the herd, cursing loudly when she was repeatedly trodden on by
nervous horses and shoved by other riders.

Keeping her eyes locked onto the
dark coat of her horse, Mistral forced her way through the sylvads trying to
calm their horses enough to mount.  One of them deliberately pulled his
horse around to block her path just as she was reaching out to grab
Cirrus.  The horse spun nervously and knocked Mistral to her knees. 
Winded and furious, she scrambled to her feet with a snarled curse. 
Elbowing roughly past the sylvad she reached for Cirrus again.  The sylvad
stumbled then grabbed the back of her jerkin, stopping her from pulling up onto
Cirrus.  Swearing loudly, Mistral kicked out and caught him squarely in
the stomach.  Using his body as a springboard, she pushed off and launched
herself up, landing on Cirrus’ broad back.  Grabbing his mane with both
hands she drove her heels into his sides and let out a yell.  The powerful
horse plunged forwards, scattering horses and riders before him like wooden skittles. 
He leapt the fence and was instantly immersed in a sea of horses and riders,
all forced together by the narrowness of the path.  Mistral leaned low
over his neck to avoid the flurry of punches being thrown and urged him
on.  She let out a sudden gasp of pain when the elf riding on her right
rammed his elbow into her ribs, trying to knock her off.  Mistral hung on
to the loop in Cirrus’ mane and forced air back into her winded lungs while she
glared furiously at the elf.  He gave her a dismissive look, his meaning
clear.  If she couldn’t take it, then she shouldn’t have entered. 
Scowling angrily, Mistral yanked hard on the loop in Cirrus’ mane and leaned
her weight over, urging him to barge the elf’s slighter horse.  With a
loud snort of surprise the horse stumbled and dropped to its knees, sending its
elven rider tumbling to the ground with a shouted curse.  She grinned to
see Brutus riding up into the space the elf had left, his long hair flying out
behind him and a wild smile lighting his face.