The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (22 page)

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 clump 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 been.  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. 

A movement in
the grass drew her attention.  It was Bali.  He had also seen what
the boys intended to do and had rolled across the ground to place himself back
in the troll’s path.  Rising swiftly to his feet with his crossbow raised
ready he fired a bolt directly into the troll’s face.  Tossing his spent
crossbow to the ground he drew his sword and faced the troll.  With a roar
of pain the troll rubbed a hand over its face but only succeeding in breaking
the bolt off and driving the head in deeper.  Half crazed by pain and the
effects of the poison, the troll lunged for Bali with outstretched hands. 
Undaunted, Bali stood firm with his sword poised, ready to fight.

The troll
staggered drunkenly, striking Bali a crunching blow with its flailing arms that
knocked his sword from his grasp and sent him crashing to the ground.

Mistral
reacted instinctively, firing her crossbow then flinging it down while she
swung herself over the side of the ledge.  Her aim was true and the bolt
thudded deeply into the troll’s neck but Mistral wasn’t interested in her shot;
she was desperate to get to Bali, who was unarmed and probably
unconscious.  She dropped down to the ground and landed awkwardly,
twisting her ankle painfully.  Mistral ignored the stabbing ache in her
ankle and forced herself into a sprint, drawing both swords and shouting for
the twins at the same time.

The troll
stood over Bali’s stricken body, swaying violently and breathing in great
shuddering gasps.  Giving a long groan it slowly pitched forwards and fell
onto Bali.

‘NO!’

Mistral tore
across the meadow and reached the troll’s prone body at the same time as the
twins, both ashen faced and panting for breath.

‘Roll it off
him!’ she cried and plunged the blade of her sword into the troll’s neck. 
A thick stream of black blood oozed out around her blade but didn’t spurt with
the force of a beating heart.  The troll was already dead. 

Letting her
sword fall beside her, Mistral swiftly knelt and helped the twins heave the
troll off Bali.  He lay unmoving, his expression almost calm.  Mistral
pressed her fingers to his throat to feel for a pulse.  His closed eyes
didn’t flicker at the contact and the skin felt slack beneath her touch,
lifeless. 

She rocked
back on her heels and stared into the twins’ white faces.

‘He’s dead.’

The twins
looked at her, their faces blank with shock.  Mistral stared back at them,
feeling the familiar sensation of anger burning away the numbness.  She
stood up quickly and spun around in a circle, searching wildly for the three
young sorcerers, the reason that their brother lay broken in the dirt. 
There was no-one in sight.  The boys had fled.  Without anyone to
vent her sudden rage on Mistral abruptly became organised.

‘Can you
manage to carry Bali?’ she asked the twins bluntly.

They nodded
once.

‘Good. 
As soon as you’ve gathered your things together we’ll leave.’

Mistral
quickly collected her discarded crossbow from the base of the cliff and strode
back to the where the troll lay.  Stooping briefly to pick up her sword
she began to hack through the thick skin and sinews of the troll’s neck,
letting her anger mask her repulsion at the grisly task.  When she finished,
Mistral dropped the severed head into Bali’s saddlebag.  She felt it was
somehow fitting that he should carry the trophy home.

The twins
watched her while she wiped her sword clean on the grass, their faces pale and
taut.  They were stood at either end of Bali’s body, one supporting his
feet, the other his shoulders.

‘Ready?’ asked
Mistral quietly. 

‘Yes.’ 

Their voices
were barely above a whisper but at least they were steady.  Mistral was
pleased that the normally squeamish twins were managing to keep control. 
She needed them to be strong enough to get through the next part of the
journey. 

Mistral barely
noticed the walk back down to the village, her mind was a turmoil of anger and
disbelief but her body functioned automatically; stepping around boulders and
helping the twins carry Bali’s body down the steeper parts of the path. 
They reached the barn and laid Bali’s body down in the straw while they saddled
the horses.  Nobody had spoken a word since they’d left the meadow.  Mistral
was still too angry to trust herself to say anything coherent; angry at the
unknown villagers, angry at her missing with her first shot, even angry at Bali
for giving his life to save three boys he didn’t know.  Mistral clenched
her fists and fought to control the rage that threated to overwhelm her. 
She needed to be calm and rational.  She was in charge now. 

She held
Bali’s horse for the twins to lift his lifeless body over the saddle.  The
gelding snorted and shied at the strange burden but Mistral held him steady,
whispering soothing words that had no meaning to her.

They rode in
silence out of the deserted village and began their slow descent down the
narrow mountain path with Mistral in front leading Bali’s horse and the twins
following in single file.  Still no-one spoke.  They rode instead to
the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves, a ceaseless thudding sound, like the
beat of a funeral drum. 

The afternoon
had blurred unnoticed into early evening by the time they reached the meadows
bordering the Valley of the Ri.  The sun had dropped low in the sky and
begun to set when they finally neared the North Gate and Mistral suddenly found
herself wishing that they could ride forever, staying in the limbo state of not
having to explain what had happened.  She didn’t think she could face the
endless questions that their arrival in the Valley would unleash.

The drifting
clouds caught the sun’s dying rays, staining the sky crimson and turning them
to black silhouettes moving slowly beneath a blood red sky.  They entered
the Valley through the looming North Gate and the guard immediately began to
sound the warning bell, its ringing peals alerting everyone in the Valley to
their arrival. 

Mistral didn’t
even look up but rode steadily forward, leading Bali’s horse beside her. 
The twins silently urged their horses forward so that they rode to face the
gathered crowd together.  Mistral didn’t look at either of them but felt a
surge of gratitude for their unspoken act of solidarity.

There was no
drama, no cries or shouts when they rode towards the crowd that had gathered in
the village square.  Even in the inky light of dusk the outline of Bali’s
body slumped over the pommel of his saddle spoke clearly of what had
happened.  The silence of the crowd was both respectful and resigned;
death for them was an inevitable part of the life they had chosen. 

Leo Sphinx
moved quickly to the front of the crowd flanked by Gleacher Shacklock and his
three Training Lieutenants.  His face wore a tightly controlled expression
while he looked steadily at the three apprentices.

‘Dismount and
come with me,’ he said curtly. 

While Mistral
and the twins swung themselves stiffly out of their saddles, Leo turned briefly
towards the stableblock and called out in a loud voice.

‘Clovis!’

The Equus appeared
from one of the stables and strode rapidly towards where Leo was standing.

‘Tend these
horses.’

The Equus
nodded in response to Leo’s terse order and immediately led the four horses
away.

‘Caleb, Barak;
go with Clovis and do what is required for Bali.’ 

Two of the
Lieutenants slipped wordlessly from his side and strode after the Equus while
Leo turned and spoke briefly to his last remaining Lieutenant.

‘Cyrus, go to
see Floris and have a barrel ready.  We will join you shortly.’

Without another
word to the three waiting apprentices Leo abruptly turned on his heel and
walked swiftly towards the dorms, closely followed by Gleacher Shacklock.

Voices
suddenly broke out around them, curious and disbelieving.  Mistral threw a
quick glance at the twins; their pale faces were set in unfamiliar hard
expressions.  Phantasm turned his head to look at her, his eyes unreadable
in the dim light.

‘We must meet
with our Training Captain,’ he said softly.

Mistral nodded
mutely and the three of them walked up the path together, leaving behind the
raised voices and persistent questions.  The numbing shock and anger at
the day’s events was wearing off and Mistral was suddenly aware of her legs
aching from the long ride.  The climb up the twisting stone staircase to
Leo’s tower room seemed to go on forever.  They paused briefly outside the
heavy wooden door then Phantasm drew a deep breath then raised his fist and
knocked.

Footsteps
sounded from the other side.  The door was quickly opened and Leo
appeared, framed by the light of several torches blazing on the walls inside
his room.

‘Come in and
be seated,’ he said coldly.

Mistral
followed the twins into the room.  She had never been up here before and
was surprised by the size of the room.  The high vaulted ceiling was lost
in shadow but the rest of the circular room was well-lit by torches hung on the
rough stone walls.  Various weapons and pieces of armour were stacked
everywhere; against the walls, on the deep ledge of the long narrow windows and
even on the huge four poster bed that took up one side of the room.

Leo gestured
towards a large wooden table that had a number of mismatched stools and chairs
gathered haphazardly around it.  Mistral noticed with a start that
Gleacher Shacklock was already seated at the table, his expression stony. 

Leo closed the
door and Mistral heard the key turn in the lock with a soft click.  He
walked quickly over to the table and sat down lightly beside Gleacher. 

‘Now,’ he
said, leaning forward onto his elbows.  ‘Tell me what has happened today.’

Mistral
instantly felt her mind go blank and her throat close up; she didn’t think she
could utter a sound.

‘Master
Sphinx, Master Shacklock; if I may relate the events on behalf of all of us –’

Mistral
half-turned her head in surprise when Phantasm began speaking in a clear
voice.  As she listened to him relaying the events of the day accurately
and unemotionally she felt a fresh wave of anger at the untrained sorcerers for
what their selfish actions had caused.  Phantasm betrayed none of the
emotion that Mistral knew he had felt and hesitated only briefly when he
described the moment they had established that Bali was dead.  Mistral’s
respect for her brother grew with every word he spoke.  She suddenly
realised the he possessed a strength that she did not, and it had nothing to do
with using a sword or a longbow.  Despite what he had been through he was
eloquent and composed, whilst she could barely think straight.  Mistral
remained silent after Phantasm had finished speaking and hoped that Leo
wouldn’t ask her any questions, knowing that if she managed to utter a word it
would probably only be to swear and rant about the three unknown boys. 

There was a
long pause while Leo gazed thoughtfully into space.

‘Gleacher, has
there been a breach of Contract?’ he asked softly, turning his head towards the
Contracts Officer.

Torchlight
flickered across Gleacher’s hard face then he shook his head fractionally.

‘Even if they
were of age?’  Leo persisted.

‘We have no
proof, and I doubt the villagers will be inclined to offer up three of their
sons for punishment – if the boys ever admit that they were there that
is.  Bali’s actions ultimately resulted in his death.  He chose to
step between the troll and the three boys.  The troll was already poisoned
when Bali confronted him but we cannot be certain whose bolt delivered the
fatal blow.  Poison is a notoriously unpredictable choice of weapon; I
doubt even Malachi could reliably predict the dose and length of time it would
take to incapacitate an adult troll.  The apprentices are not to blame.’

Leo nodded,
satisfied with the Contract Officer’s reply.  He sighed deeply and looked
at the apprentices across the table.

‘You have
learned a valuable lesson today, but it has come at a high price.  Now you
must honour the fallen.  Your respect will be appreciated by those who
knew and trained alongside him.  You may go,’ he rose from his chair and
walked to the door.

Mistral
realised dimly that they were being dismissed.  The twins had risen from
their chairs and were half way across the room before she managed to force
herself to move.  They filed silently past their Training Captain and out
through the door he held open for them.  Mistral felt an odd sense of
unreality wash over her when she heard the door shut behind her. 

‘Is that it
then?’

Neither twin
replied but started to walk quietly down the stairs.  After a moment’s
pause she followed them.  At the second flight of stairs leading to their
dorms Mistral suddenly felt a burst of longing for the sanctuary of her
room.  She wanted solitude and the chance to make sense of the day’s
events. 

‘Where are you
going Mistral?’  Phantasm asked when she automatically turned left at the
base of the stairs.

‘I need to be
alone,’ she muttered, walking towards her room.

‘No
Mistral.  You must come to The Cloak and Dagger.’  Phantasm’s voice
held an unfamiliar hard edge to it. 

Mistral spun
to face him, her expression incredulous, ‘The Cloak and Dagger?  How can
you even
think
of having a drink at a time like this?’

‘You must
come,’ he persisted.  ‘It is expected.’

‘I’ll show my
respects at the funeral,’ snapped Mistral, feeling badgered.

‘Mistral, this
is his funeral.’

‘And, if you
don’t come now you will look guilty,’ added Phantom quietly.

Mistral blinked,
she hadn’t thought of that.  It was one of the golden rules of training; a
warrior is only as good as the warrior standing beside him.  If she hid in
her room it would be tantamount to saying that she had caused Bali’s death in
some way.

Mistral looked
at the twins, at their beautiful faces now set in expressions she had never
seen before; hard and uncompromising.  She nodded slowly and drew in a
deep breath.  If the twins had the strength to do this then so did she.

‘Lead the way
brothers.’  

Mistral
followed the twins down the last flight of stairs into the Entrance Hall. 
They stepped out into the cool night ahead of her and halted a short distance
apart, wordlessly inviting her to walk between them.  She smiled with
sudden affection and began the long walk down into the village flanked by her
two angel-faced guardians.  To avoid thinking about what lay ahead Mistral
looked up at the night sky as she walked.  There was no moon but stars had
come out, shining jewel bright in the vast black sky above her.  Lights
blazed ahead of them, drawing her attention to the brightly lit windows of The
Cloak and Dagger.  Mistral noticed with a small frown that there were no
other lights on in any of the surrounding houses.

‘Why is it so
dark?  Where are all the villagers?’ she whispered.

Phantasm
turned his head to look at her, his face bleached ghostly white by the
starlight.

‘They’re in
The Cloak and Dagger,’ he said softly.