The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (3 page)

Mistral
laughed quietly, she could tell that Phantom was the less serious of the two.

‘When does
training begin?’ she asked, taking a grateful sip of the goblet of spiced wine
that Phantom had handed her.

‘First week of
the New Year.  More people will arrive over the next week to
Register.  Its lucky you came now, you got the last single room – or you
may have ended up having to share with someone,’ he winked at her and she
glared icily back.  ‘Or maybe they would have just seen you first and
decided to sleep in the hayloft!’ he added quickly.

Mistral
laughed, she could tell she was going to get along with the twins. 
Despite the amount they talked, they were easy company.

That evening
they sat around a table in The Cloak and Dagger, feeling warm and at peace with
the world after eating a huge meal of venison stew and drinking far too much
spiced red wine.  Mistral plied the twins with questions about the Valley
over a long game of knucklebones.

‘So where are
the apprentices that were trained this year?’  Mistral asked, looking
around curiously.  There were only four other occupants, the two elves had
left but the heavily cloaked stranger was still sat alone at the back. 
The tavern’s three new arrivals were obviously newcomers like her and the twins
and kept casting inquisitive glances at their table.

‘They all
Qualified last week – that was a wild night I can tell you!  We couldn’t
get to sleep for the noise in the tavern, it went on practically until dawn …
anyway, once they Qualified they all signed up with the Ri’s Agent; Scrimshaw
and Scuttle – which is pretty much mandatory as the Ri need to recoup their
training costs somehow -’

‘Training
costs?’  Mistral interrupted sharply, she had hoped to spend the money
Brothertoft had given her on more exciting things than training fees.

Phantasm
nodded as he shook the dice and rolled them onto the table, ‘Ha!’ he exclaimed,
flicking over one of her knucklebones.  ‘My win I think,’ he said in a
satisfied tone, sweeping the bronze coins from Mistral’s side of the table to
his.  ‘Yes, training costs.  The Ri train us for a year and then we
work solely for their Agent for the first year as a Qualified warrior. 
It’s a fair enough deal, I suppose,’ he shrugged dismissively.

‘Unless of
course you wish to stay for a second year’s training, then its two years of
doing whatever work the Ri’s Agent wish you to.’  Phantom added quietly.

‘Why would
anyone want to stay for another year?  Is that only if you fail the first
year?’  Mistral asked, intrigued.

The twins
laughed at her, ‘If you’re going to fail the first year I don’t think the Ri
would invite you back to re-take!’  Phantasm said.  ‘Training to be a
warrior is something you either can or cannot do, it’s not a case of try and
try again until you master the knack of hunting things and killing
people!  No, a second year is to further develop more ... specialised
skills,’ he finished with a slightly superior look on his face.

‘Special
skills?’  Mistral prompted, becoming slightly irked with Phantasm’s habit
of not fully explaining himself.

Phantasm
looked at her over the top of his tankard with an amused expression, ‘Honestly
Mistral, just where were you raised?  Whilst half-breeds cannot possess
the Craft, even if one of their parents was a sorcerer, they can sometimes
develop a gift or special skill bestowed to them by their Arcane parent. 
For example, elves have an exceptional sense of hearing, nymphs are dangerously
beguiling, goblins are excellent metal-workers ... and then there are the more
unusual gifts, such as the Divinus has.  But they tend to be quite
rare.’  Phantasm threw his brother a smug look.

Mistral nodded
absently and took a drink from her tankard to hide the expression of surprise
on her face.  So the skill she possessed would guarantee her a second
year’s training … that was something to think about.

One of the
newcomers rose from his seat and wandered over.  The twins and Mistral
watched him approach.  He was not very tall and slightly built with sharp
features and quick blue eyes.

‘Good evening
brothers and sister,’ he said politely, nodding towards Mistral.  ‘My name
is Cain.  I presume you’re here to train too?’ 

Phantasm smiled
politely and indicated to a chair at their table, ‘Phantasm … my twin Phantom
and this is Mistral.  Care to join us for a game?’ 

Cain grinned
and his sharp features instantly changed into a mischievous expression that
Mistral recognised only too well.  She had been annoyed by the teasing
antics of the forest dwelling tribe of hobs enough times on her hunting trips
in The Velvet Forests to recognise that Cain had some of their blood.

‘I think I’ll
sit this one out,’ she said quietly, giving Phantom a meaningful look.

‘Don’t you
trust my blood, sister?’  Cain asked shrewdly, giving her a sly
smile.  ‘You’d be right not to.  I could cheat an elf out of his bow
and arrow!’

Phantom
laughed and reset the bones on the table for a new game, ‘Now there’s a challenge
if ever I heard one!’

Phantasm shook
the dice, ‘May I suggest a small wager?  Just to make it interesting?’

Before long
the other two who were obviously brothers came over to join them, introducing
themselves as Xerxes and Brutus, two half-elves.  By midnight the twins
had accumulated a fair sized pile of coins each that Xerxes was
enthusiastically trying to persuade them to bet on the next game.

‘I think I
know when to call it a day,’ said Phantasm with a contented smile, sweeping the
pile of coins from the table and into a leather purse before rising slightly
unsteadily to his feet.  ‘I bid you all a pleasant evening.’

Mistral
managed to drag Phantom away from the game shortly after, having first agreed
to meet up for a re-match the following evening.  As they climbed the
stairs together Mistral looked over her shoulder to check they weren’t going to
be overheard before she turned to him to ask him about something that had been
puzzling her all evening. 

‘Why did he
call me sister and you brother?  He doesn’t think we’re related does he?’
she whispered.

Phantom
laughed out loud and shook his head, ‘Seriously Mistral,
where
were you
raised!  It’s a respectful term for anyone you don’t know but wish to be
polite to.’

‘Oh,’ said
Mistral pausing outside her door and watching Phantom wandering haphazardly
towards his room. 

He struggled
with the latch for a few minutes then called ‘G’night!’  a touch too
loudly before falling through the open door.

The next
morning Mistral awoke at dawn.  She lay in bed and gazed around at her
unfamiliar surroundings feeling an almost euphoric excitement slowly creep over
her.  She was in the Valley of the Ri!  Suppressing the desire to
whoop with joy Mistral leapt from her bed and hastily threw on some
clothes.  After a cursory wash and a brief attempt at dragging a comb
through her hair she opened her door and stepped out onto the dark, narrow
landing.  Not bothered by the earliness of the hour, Mistral rapped
enthusiastically on the door of the room next to hers to hear the grumbled
complaints from within as the twins were roused from sleep.

‘Told you she
was an early riser!’  Mistral could hear Phantom’s sleepy voice muttering
reproachfully.  ‘She’d got that look about her.  You can get the door
… you’re closest.’

Phantasm’s
response was too low for Mistral to hear but there was as dull thud followed by
a grunt of pain then the door was suddenly thrown open by a tousle-haired
Phantom.  He yawned and stretched before finally fixing her with a
resentful look.

‘Good morning
Mistral, how nice of you to drop by.’

The irony of
his greeting was completely lost on Mistral, ‘Come on!  You promised to
show me the Valley!’  

Phantom stared
at her wordlessly for a moment, but since she appeared not to show any signs of
leaving, he gave in and sighed.  ‘Fine, we’ll meet you downstairs for
breakfast in five minutes.’ 

‘I’ll wait
here,’ she said firmly.  ‘Just in case you fall back to sleep.’

Phantom’s
impolite response was lost in the sound of the door being slammed in her
face.  Mistral leant against the wall opposite the closed door, tapping
her foot impatiently.  She was desperate to get down to the armourers and
spend some money...

By the time
the twins finally emerged from their room looking immaculately washed and
brushed, Mistral was nearly climbing the walls with impatience.

‘What took you
so long?’ she exploded as they stepped out onto the dim landing.

Phantom
favoured her with a cool look, ‘I think the question should be – what didn’t
take you so long?’

Mistral looked
down at her tatty shirt and old trousers, ‘I suppose I could do with some new
clothes,’ she admitted ruefully.

‘A hair cut
wouldn’t go amiss either,’ muttered Phantasm.

Mistral picked
up the end of her long ponytail and frowned at it, ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Only
everything Mistral.’  Phantasm sighed and steered her towards the
stairs.  ‘But let’s start small.  The Ri has a uniform of sorts that
all the warriors wear and new clothes will improve your appearance
greatly.  We’ll go to Mistress Eudora’s shop first.’

After a hasty
breakfast of cold meats and bread Mistral was literally dragging the twins out
into the misty December morning.  The air was damp and cold, silvery wet
cobwebs hung from almost every lintel and window frame.  The twins
shivered and looked sulky at being outside on such a cold morning but Mistral
barely noticed the chill as she strode purposefully across the village square
towards the narrow main street she’d seen the day before.

‘First stop,
Toothe and Nayle,’ she called over her shoulder to the twins, lagging
unenthusiastically behind her.

Mistral walked
up the main street, gazing curiously up each steep cobbled alleyway they passed
at.  There were more houses there, crammed tightly together with long
lines of washing stretching out from their upstairs windows, giving the tiny
streets a tunnel-like appearance.  Each house she passed on the main
street had a shop as its ground floor.  Mistral found herself walking more
slowly to stare in through the glass-fronted windows at the strange items on
display.  Apothecary shops selling potions and lotions to cure every
ailment imaginable and some she really wouldn’t want to, a butcher’s window
hung with meats from animals Mistral had never even seen ... but everything
suddenly paled into insignificance beside the display in the window of Toothe
and Nayle. 

Mistral
pressed her hands against the glass to stare through the dusty panes at the
vast array of weaponry on display.  Daggers and hunting knives were
arranged in gleaming rows.  Swords of all lengths and breadths rested on a
drape of plush black velvet.  Some had curved blades, others straight, and
some with wickedly sharp looking second blades nearer the handles.  A massive
double-headed axe swung from an insubstantial looking chain, casting a moving
shadow over a tray of glittering throwing knives.  Staffs of all lengths
and strange looking fork-like implements were stacked at the back of the
display, some leaning against a glass-fronted case containing a pair of silver
inlaid butterfly knives with wrought gold handles. 

Mistral
pressed her face up against the glass to peer further into the gloomy interior
of the shop.  There were more items in cases around the shop and even more
hanging on the walls and from the beamed ceilings.  She could just make
out the dim shape of a small hunched figure doing something at a workbench
right at the back of the shop.

‘Well, are we
going in or are you just going to steam up the glass all day?’ asked Phantom
pointedly.

Mistral looked
around, startled; she had forgotten the twins were behind her.  ‘Sorry,’
she said vaguely, her eyes drawn again to the shining butterfly knives.

‘Oh come on,
I’m getting older here!’

Taking the
flight of rough-hewn stone steps up to the shop’s front door two at a time,
Mistral pushed open the door and stepped eagerly into the dimly lit
interior.  The twins followed at a more sedate pace, pausing to peer
curiously into several of the glass-fronted cases as they wandered around the
shop.

The hunched
figure Mistral has spied through the glass regarded them over the top of a pair
of half-moon spectacles.  As he moved towards them, Mistral could see that
he was obviously of goblin descent by his tell-tale leathery skin and short,
hunched stature. 

‘Welcome to
Toothe and Nayle,’ he said in a rasping voice.  ‘Titus Nayle at your
service.’ 

Before Mistral
could demand to be shown everything in the window, Phantasm strolled over to
the counter and leaned casually against the heavy wooden top ad offered the
shopkeeper a charming smile, ‘We need to be armed for our first year’s
training,’ he said lightly.

‘Certainly,
certainly,’ said Titus shuffling around from the other side of the counter and
lifting swords out from one of the cabinets, laying them onto the top for the
twins and Mistral to examine.  Mistral picked each one up as he laid them
out with an expression of rapture on her face.

‘Elven, elven,
elven,’ Titus muttered under his breath as he pulled out gleaming blades of
different lengths and shapes, laying each one carefully down.  ‘Ah! 
Goblin-forged, at last!’ he announced happily laying a short, heavy looking
sword onto the counter. 

‘You favour
goblin over elven?’  Phantasm asked, running a finger experimentally down
the sword’s gleaming blade.  

Titus fixed
Phantasm with his beady eye, ‘Elf blood are you?’ he asked sharply. 

Phantasm shook
his head and gave a small smile.

‘Good,’ said
Titus.  ‘They always take offense when I recommend goblin … but it’s so much
more durable you see –’

Mistral
quickly grew bored as Titus went on to compare the many qualities of
goblin-forged swords with the apparently lamentable failings of elven-forged
swords and wandered across the shop to peer into one of the many glass-fronted
cabinets.  Inside was a pair of straight bladed, mid-length swords. 
Slipping the catch on the cabinet, Mistral opened the door and slid her hands
around the hilt of each sword.  She lifted them out and held them up in
the air.  The weight of each sword felt perfectly balanced, the hilts
could have been moulded for her hand.  She spun them experimentally by her
side.  She had only ever used a single short-bladed knife for hunting with
and was surprised at how natural it felt to handle two much longer swords.

‘I’ll take
these,’ she said impulsively.

Titus broke
off from his boring monologue to look up at her in surprise, ‘Elven,’ he
muttered under his breath and shuffled towards her.  ‘Well, I suppose they
are nicely balanced for your height and weight,’ he added slightly
reluctantly.  ‘You’ll be needed this as well –’ reaching into the depths
of the open cabinet he brought out a leather sword belt designed to be worn
across the chest with the swords stored on the wearer’s back.

‘Thanks,’ said
Mistral distractedly, still examining her new purchase.  ‘Can I have a
look at the throwing knives in the window too?’

By the time
the twins managed to drag Mistral from Toothe and Nayle she had purchased the
double swords, a set of throwing knives and belt and a short-bladed
dagger.  She had spent a lot of the money in the pouch Brothertoft had
given her and was in a dither over the butterfly knives when the twins’
patience finally snapped.  They had also purchased single elven-forged
swords and throwing knives but did not share Mistral’s seemingly limitless
preoccupation with the butterfly knives.

‘How many
weapons does one girl need?’  Phantom asked huffily while he dragged her
bodily from the shop, still shooting covetous glances at the knives being
placed back into the cabinet in the window.

‘Thank
goodness that’s over!  The more elven goods we bought the more I was
convinced he was going to test one of those tacky goblin-forged swords on us!’
 Phantasm exclaimed.  ‘Right, now let’s get new clothes next.’ 
he hauled Mistral past a garish window display of middle-eastern weaponry and
into the shop next door.

A bell tinkled
overhead when they pushed open the heavy door and stepped into another dimly
lit shop.  Mistral hadn’t seen the sign over the door but could immediately
tell they were in a shop selling nothing that interested her.  Every wall
was covered from floor to ceiling with shelves stacked high with garment upon
garment in only one colour.  Black.

Mistral turned
in a slow circle, taking in the overpowering gloominess of the shop with
disbelieving eyes when a tinkling giggle made her jump.  Turning quickly
to look at the only piece of furniture in the room, a long granite topped
counter, Mistral couldn’t see at first who had made the noise.  As her
eyes raked the counter for a second time she saw a shadow move and realised
that there was a tiny woman stood behind the counter.  She was dressed
entirely in black and blended almost perfectly into the vast wall of black
material behind her.  Her features were small and sharp, almost
pixie-like.  She had tiny sapphire blue eyes that shone greedily as they
roved over the double image of perfection standing at her counter.

Phantasm slid
his elbows smoothly onto the counter and smiled politely her over his folded hands,
‘Good morning Mistress Eudora.  If it would not be too much trouble, could
you please supply us with clothing for our apprenticeships?’

‘Oh my! 
Why of course!  I would be delighted to!  Twins are you? 
Goodness, how striking you are!’  

Eudora’s voice
was high and musical, reminding Mistral of the sound of a string of silver
bells being shook.  She smiled coquettishly at Phantasm and then Phantom,
her tiny blue eyes twinkling afresh as they travelled again over their angelic
features and long-limbed bodies.  With quick precise movements, Eudora
moved from behind the counter and nimbly climbed a long ladder positioned
against the towering rows of shelves.

‘Three of
every item apiece is standard,’ she called down from above as folded garments
began to drop down and land in a neat pile on the counter.  ‘And in black,
of course!’  she gave a silvery laugh and winked down at Phantasm, as
though this were a great joke.

‘Why is
everything in black?’  Mistral asked, slightly irritated by Eudora’s
manner.  She had not even looked at her and obviously only had eyes for
the twins.

‘So it doesn’t
show the blood of course, silly!’ her voice was slightly muffled by the large
pile of folded garments she was in the process of pulling from one of the
shelves.

Phantom caught
Mistral’s expression and whispered, ‘Ignore her Mistral.  She’s obviously
got fairy blood.  She can’t help being irritating.’

‘Or flirty,’
added Mistral sourly.

Phantom
smothered a grin and began to unfold the clothes Eudora dropped down to them.

‘There! 
All done!’

Eudora slid
down the ladder as gracefully as a dancer and landed with an elegant jump at
the bottom.  She moved so quickly and lightly that Mistral almost expected
her to take flight at any moment.

‘Now, let’s
see what we have here,’ she giggled and held a shirt up in front of Phantasm,
as if to check it would fit.  ‘Would you like to try it on?’ she enquired
hopefully.