The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (59 page)

‘Of course!  But not to that
bit!’ 

‘Sorry Mistral, but it’s part of
the ceremony.  You legally agreed to obey your husband, before witnesses.’
 Samson added, laughing openly at the horrified expression on her face.

‘Don’t mention that I agreed the
same.’  Fabian muttered, turning away slightly so that Mistral couldn’t
hear.

Samson threw back his head and
laughed uproariously, revealing several gold teeth that instantly caught the
attention of the goblins sat near them.

‘I hope sleep with your mouth
closed Samson.’  Mistral remarked archly and tilted her head in the
direction of the sharp-eyed goblins.  ‘Those thieving little gits will
pull those gold teeth from your mouth given half the chance!’

‘Sleep?  I’ll do that when
I’m dead!’  Samson grinned, dropping a wink at one of the nymphs that
sashayed past, fluttering her eyelashes at him. 

Mistral rolled her eyes and
looked across the crowded tent to see the twins carefully weaving though the
jostling Arcanes towards her, trying not to spill the full tankards held in
their hands.

‘Here you go Mistral … oh, you’ve
already got one!’  Phantom exclaimed, elbowing past the goblins to reach
her.

‘Two is just fine.’  Mistral
took one of the tankards from him, ignoring Fabian’s raised eyebrows. 
‘We’ve got a lot to celebrate.  Two Ri warriors in the final and still one
more event to go yet!’

‘I think you’ll find that’s one
Ri warrior and one apprentice in the final actually.’  Cain corrected,
pushing through the crowd to appear beside them with a grin on his face.

‘You’re just a bad loser.’
 Mistral retorted.

‘Not as bad as Xerxes.  I
don’t think he’s spoken to Grendel today.’

‘Where is Grendel anyway? 
Oh, forget I said that.’  Mistral grimaced.  ‘I think I already know
–’

Brutus, Xerxes and Saul arrived
and several conversations began at once.  Mistral smiled and listened to
her brothers talking and laughing, their good moods reflected all around in the
carnival atmosphere of the beer tent.  She leaned contentedly against
Fabian’s side while he talked with Samson, feeling at peace with the
world.  The warmth of the sun combined with the strong ale soon dissolved
all thoughts of her uncomfortable conversation with Saul and even managed to
lessen some of the gnawing guilt she felt about not having mastered her gift
yet.  She smiled in amusement at her brothers, growing more boisterous
after Cain topped their tankards up with manticore potion.  Saul caught
her eye and grinned, raising his tankard in a toast.  Mistral grinned back
then quickly looked away before he could see the guilt she abruptly felt. 
She kept her gaze locked on the half-empty tankard in her hand, wishing
fervently that Saul could find the happiness he deserved with someone capable
of loving him back.  Feeling suddenly miserable, Mistral returned her
attention to the sound of Fabian’s voice and listened to the soft tones that
never failed to sooth her.  She allowed her mind to drift, letting his
murmured words fill her mind like music until it gradually dawned on her that
they were talking about a Contract Samson was considering.  Mistral
frowned and forced herself to concentrate.  With a stab of unease she
realised he was asking Fabian to take a mercenary Contract with him.  She
closed her eyes and listened more closely, every word of Samson’s low, rasping
voice filling her with a growing sense of dread.  It was exactly the type
of work Fabian would relish.  Mistral’s heart plummeted.  Her Mage
would be leaving again soon.  Like a cloud moving over the face of the
sun, her good mood was instantly erased, leaving her feeling desolate.  Fabian’s
voice drifted across her bleak horizon, the softly spoken words taking time to
sink in.

‘Thank you Samson, but I’m not
available for work at the moment.  Other commitments require my attention
for the foreseeable future.’

Mistral let out the breath she didn’t
realise she’d been holding and opened her eyes to meet Samson’s coolly
assessing look.  He raised a scarred eyebrow but didn’t comment and
Mistral quickly dropped her gaze to hide the grin that spread across her face
and found herself looking at Prospero.  He was laid quietly at her feet
with his head resting on his paws, but his hungry gaze was fixed on the tribe
of fairies hovering over a nearby table, chattering loudly in high-pitched
voices.  Mistral watched his pale eyes obsessively following their jerky
movements.  A long thread of saliva dangled down from his mouth,
stretching almost to the ground before it snapped.  Laughing quietly,
Mistral resolved to take him with her next time she had to visit Eudora’s
shop.  He might encourage the irritating shop-owner into providing a
better level of service.

Twilight fell over the Vale,
shrouding the outrageous antics of the Arcanes in soft, forgiving light. 
Snatches of crude song and drunken shouts filled the warm evening air. 
Horses were being ridden by blindfold riders in reckless races around the
Arena; card games and mammoth tournaments of knuckle bones were being held on
every available surface not taken by tankards of ale.  Grendel had
reappeared and was sat with Saul and Cain, all three ignoring the two nymphs
that were fawning over him while they played cards.  Xerxes was in his
element with one arm around one of the sylvads from the registration tent and
the other waving his tatty piece of parchment while he took bets on everything
from the winner of the final event to how many flaming torches Hermes could
juggle before he set fire to himself. 

‘Is it always like this?’ 
Mistral asked Phantom when he appeared suddenly by her side, looking slightly
dishevelled.

‘Apparently so.  There’s a
lot of steam to be let off when the Arcanes are allowed to congregate outside
of the confines of Mage rule –’ he paused and hiccoughed elegantly into his
hand.  ‘Of course, drunken debauchery is not really my sort of thing, but
when in Rome –’

‘So I see.  Phantom? 
What happened to your hair?’  Mistral looked at her drunken brother in
amusement.

‘Oh you know.’  Phantom
waved vaguely in the direction of the nymph tent then took a long drink from
his tankard.

‘Oh Phantom you didn’t!’ 
Mistral scowled reprovingly.  ‘Your mother will be so disappointed!’

He promptly choked on his
mouthful of ale, ‘You won’t tell her will you?’ 

Hiding the laugh that threatened,
Mistral forced her expression into something Melsina would have been proud of,
‘Not if you promise never to do that again.  You’ve no idea where they’ve
been!’ 

‘I won’t, I promise,’ he said
quickly, looking for all the world like a contrite child caught stealing.

‘Good.’  Mistral nodded
briskly then looked around.  ‘Now, where’s your brother?’

‘Still in there.’

‘Oh for pity’s sake!  Well,
if either of you catch anything, don’t expect me to treat you!’

Phantom stared at her in mute
horror before muttering something about needing a wash. 

‘A touch over dramatic, I think.’
 Fabian murmured in Mistral’s ear when he had fled.

‘Maybe.  But, the
nymphs?  Really?  The twins could do so much better than that bunch
of tarts!’

‘I agree, but please try not to
be so hard on the twins.’  Fabian responded mildly.  ‘Their behaviour
is only to be expected.’

‘Why?’ 

‘They have endured the influence
of strong women in their lives.  It can have a detrimental effect.’

Mistral frowned at him, ‘Strong
women?  There’s only Melsina and they haven’t lived with her for
years!’ 

Fabian smiled, ‘I’m talking about
you too Mistral.’

She glared at him, stung by the
accusation that her effect on the twins was detrimental, ‘Well I hope you don’t
think I have that effect on you!’ she finally snapped.

‘Quite the opposite.’

Mistral smiled as he leaned down
to kiss her, the familiar ache of longing made all the more poignant by the
knowledge that it would, as ever, remain unfulfilled.  And it was entirely
her fault. 

For once, it was she that heaved
a sigh and pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him firmly away. 
Biting her lip, she looked into his eyes and sighed.

‘I’m not sure how much longer I
can do this.’ 

He smiled at her, his velvet gaze
so invitingly soft and dark that she wanted to kick herself for pushing him
away. 

‘I understand, but I will be
patient.  We will be together Mistral.  I do not think it is possible
for two to feel the way we do and not.’

‘We’re doing a fairly good job so
far.’  Mistral responded grumpily.  

‘Everyone has their limits.’

Mistral snapped her gaze up to
meet his.  Was he suggesting that he had reached his?  He read the
hope in her expression and smiled a little too knowingly for her liking and she
immediately scowled, making his smile widen.

‘Patience,’ he breathed softly,
making her instantly think the opposite.

‘Have you seen my brother?’ 

Mistral turned to respond to
Phantasm’s casual enquiry, almost grateful at being interrupted.  She eyed
him coolly for a moment, taking in the fact that his shirt was buttoned up
wrong and his usually immaculate hair was tousled.

‘Something you want to tell me
Phantasm?’

Phantasm shot her a guilty look,
‘No.’

‘I see.’ 

A silence fell between them and
Phantasm fidgeted uncomfortably while Mistral bit her tongue to hide the laugh
threatening to ruin her act. 

‘Your brother has gone to
wash.’  she snapped, giving him a look that suggested being very
disappointed in him.  ‘And I strongly advise that you do the same, unless
you want to get something nasty.’

Phantasm’s eyes widened then he
nodded rapidly, melting swiftly away into the throng to follow his brother.

Fabian chuckled softly and
watched Phantasm almost running along the avenue towards the washing pool south
end of the Vale.

‘Harsh Mistral.  Too harsh.’

Mistral gave an exasperated sigh,
‘All I need is for Prospero to get lucky and everyone, and I mean
everyone
,’
she said with a meaningful look in Grendel’s direction, ‘but you and I are
falling out of beds left, right and centre!  And we’re the only married
ones!’

‘Talking of Prospero, you do know
he’s stalking one of the fairies don’t you?’

‘Oh no!’  Mistral cried and
spun around to see her dog crawling on his belly towards the table of
frantically squeaking fairies, a ravenous look on his face.

‘I think you need to feed him
more Mistral.’  Samson advised, looking over at the commotion Prospero was
causing.

‘Thanks Samson, I’ll bear that in
mind.’  Mistral snapped sarcastically and hurried over to grab her dog by
the scruff of the neck, hauling him away to roars of laughter from the table of
goblins.

It had reached the time of night
and level of drunkenness where good humour gave way to flared tempers. 
Fights began to break out, making Mistral glance around quickly to check none
of her brothers were involved.  She was relieved to see most were
gambling.  Only Cain and Brutus were absent, which meant they were in the
nymph tent. 

‘I think it’s time we made our
exit.’  

Fabian pulled her away from the
table nearby seconds before it was abruptly overturned and flung through the
air by a furious Grendel, shortly followed by the two goblins he had been
gambling with, both screaming abuse while they hurtled through the air.

Submitting unwillingly to
Fabian’s insistent grip on her arm, Mistral allowed herself to be led away from
the escalating mayhem into the relative calm of the avenue.

‘Just when things were getting
interesting.’  Mistral complained, throwing a glance over her shoulder to
see Grendel launching several more of the goblins into the air with roars of
anger. 

‘Perhaps, but I would prefer to
have my sword when faced with a crowd of drunken Arcanes after being loudly
called “Mage De Winter” by your brothers.’

‘Oh they didn’t!’  Mistral
gasped, looking appalled.  ‘I’m sorry –’

‘No need to apologise.  Just
be prepared for some drunken insults.’

‘Just let them dare!’  Mistral
snarled, looking around for any candidates brave enough to try.

‘Mistral, we’re not looking for a
fight.’  Fabian warned softly, his eyes darting cautiously left and right
while they made their way along the dark avenue.

‘If anyone so much as dares look
in your direction with anything but a smile then they’ll have me and Prospero
to answer to!’  Mistral hissed back in a vehement whisper.

‘Let’s hope that won’t be
necessary.’  Fabian murmured, hurrying her along before she could eyeball a
group of surly looking drows. 

Despite Fabian’s concerns they
reached their tent without being challenged to find the twins sat talking
around the fire.  Mistral dropped down beside them, noting their wet hair
with a supressed smile. 

Fabian settled himself next to
her and gazed questioningly at the twins, ‘Are you two sober enough to discuss
a rather intricate matter?’  he asked in a quiet undertone.

‘Feeling quite refreshed
actually.’  Phantasm responded lightly, poking the fire with a stick to
stir it into life again. 

‘Yes, it’s surprising what cold
swim can do for your levels of sobriety.’  Phantom muttered, ignoring
Mistral’s smirk.

‘Good, because I had an
interesting conversation with the elves you had the misfortune to cross last
winter.’

‘Ah, that.’  A shadow
crossed Phantasm’s face.  He immediately he dropped his gaze to stare into
the campfire.  ‘I thought we might have this discussion.’

Mistral yawned and rubbed
Prospero’s ears, instantly bored by the turn in the conversation.

‘You are aware of the
implications of their findings?’  Fabian continued softly.