The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (4 page)

‘I trust your
impeccable judgement entirely,’ replied Phantasm smoothly, giving her a
dazzling smile.

Eudora’s hand
fluttered over her lips as she gazed back at him and she giggled again, sorely
tempting Mistral to try out one of her shiny new throwing knives. 

Grinding her
teeth together, Mistral elbowed past Phantasm and joined Phantom in unfolding
some of the garments.  Ignoring Eudora’s enthusiastic attempts to
establish what Phantasm was doing later that evening, Mistral discovered that
her new wardrobe consisted of three pairs of soft moleskin trousers, three
loose fitting cotton shirts, a sturdy leather belt, a pair of leather boots and
three close-fitting sleeveless vests; all in ubiquitous black.  Mistral
scoured the shelves and pulled out a fur-lined jerkin of such butter-soft
leather than it felt like silk in her hands and dumped it unceremoniously on
top of her pile.

‘Travelling
cloaks?’  Mistral demanded abruptly, fixing Eudora with a questioning
glare.

‘Over there –’
Eudora flapped a tiny hand vaguely towards the far wall of the shop, her eyes
never leaving Phantasm’s amused face while she twirled a lock of jet black hair
between her fingers.

Mistral
scowled at her and stomped over to where Eudora indicated and reached up to
grab a folded cloak.  She dropped it out to examine the quality of the
cloth, hoping that it would be too thin or have a sewing flaw in it so that she
could shove it back unfolded for Eudora to find later.  To her chagrin the
cloak was well-made in heavy wool, durable and warm.  Phantom drifted
silently to her side and pulled two more from the shelf. 

‘I think we’d
better make a sharp exit.  Eudora’s asking which room Phantasm’s staying
in at The Cloak and I don’t fancy her knocking on the door in the middle of the
night!’ he whispered.

‘No,’ agreed
Mistral in a sour tone.  ‘I bet she won’t mind which twin she gets in the
dark either.’

Phantom closed
his eyes and shuddered briefly before walking quickly back to the counter, ‘All
done!’ he announced brightly, laying the cloaks on the counter.

Tearing
Phantasm away from Eudora’s grasping clutches took another fifteen minutes,
during which she forced him to swear that he would return and visit her for tea
the following day.

‘Oh don’t
forget!  I run a repair service too!  You’d be surprised what damage
to clothes those swords can do!’  Eudora trilled as they beat a hasty
retreat.

‘Not as much
damage as I’d like to do to her,’ muttered Mistral darkly.  Shoving her
new purchases into her leather saddlebag she slung it over her shoulder and
began to walk back down the street.

‘She wasn’t so
bad,’ murmured Phantasm.

Mistral shot
him a black look, realising that she hadn’t actually seen him pay for any of
his purchases in the shop she let out an angry hiss, ‘Did you sweet-talk that
sad old trollop into
giving
you all those?’

Phantasm gave
her a look of wide-eyed innocence, ‘It’s terribly rude to refuse a gift
Mistral.’

Mistral made a
noise in her throat that sounded like a growl. 

‘Er, I think
it’s time for lunch now,’ Phantom said quickly.

‘Will your
girlfriend be joining us?’  Mistral asked sarcastically.  ‘Only I
think she should be told that you and your brother are not actually on the
menu!’

Phantom
sniggered and quickly pretended to be studying the window display of Scrimshaw
and Scuttle when his twin shot him a filthy look.

‘Lunch it is,’
agreed Phantasm, looking coolly aloof while he tucked his ill-gotten gains
under his arm and walked back towards The Cloak and Dagger.

‘After lunch I
want to go see to the stables,’ said Mistral, casting a longing glance over her
shoulder at the collection of low-roofed buildings that made up the Ri’s
stableyard.

‘No problem, I
think we ought to look at buying horses too.  The Equus has quite a
reputation for breeding excellent horses,’ said Phantom.

‘The Equus?’
 Mistral looked at him blankly.

‘He’s the Ri’s
horse-master.  Has been for years.  Apparently there’s nothing on
four legs that he can’t shoe, break or handle.’

‘What is
he?  Half-centaur?’  Mistral asked with a distinctly jealous edge to
her voice.

‘Don’t be
ridiculous!  Who would mate with a centaur except another centaur?’ 
Phantom laughed.

They had
reached the heavy door to The Cloak and Dagger and their conversation abruptly
ended as they entered the quiet tavern.  It wasn’t advisable to walk in
joking about strange half-breeds when it was entirely likely that whatever the
butt of the joke was might be sat at a table within earshot.  Phantom and
Mistral settled at a table near the fire whilst Phantasm strolled over to order
drinks and meals from the sour-faced Floris.

After a
hurried lunch of a thick beef stew, the twins followed Mistral out of the
tavern and across the village square towards the stableyard.

‘Impatient
isn’t she?’  Phantom said with a sigh, making no effort to try and keep
up.

‘Hmm, but
quite compelling.’  Phantasm smiled.  ‘Let’s just say that I don’t
think there’s going to be a dull moment so long as Mistral is in the Valley.’

‘Good, I do
hate to be bored,’ said Phantom with a happy sigh.

By the time
the twins had strolled leisurely into the stables Mistral was stood in the
middle of a large cobbled yard engaged in deep conversation with a beefy
red-faced man.  From the muscular appearance of his arms and chest, the
twins assumed correctly that he was the Equus.

‘Yes please,
I’d like to see him, and bring the other two over as well –’ Mistral was saying
as the twins ambled up to her, smiling pleasantly at the Equus.

The Equus
nodded and abruptly turned on his heel, heading towards the paddock. 
Mistral turned quickly to face the twins, her eyes shining with
excitement. 

‘That was the
Equus,’ she explained unnecessarily.  ‘He’s got a really good horse he’s
going to show me from his last breeding programme that he hasn’t sold yet,’ she
continued in a low voice.  ‘I’ve got him to bring you a couple from his
latest batch.  This generation of Ri horses are all named after the
planets –’

‘Great, so I’m
going to be expected to ride around on Uranus am I?’  Phantom interrupted
sourly.

‘Think
yourselves lucky!  It sounds like he’s got a thing about naming his generations
of horses – the last lot were all named after cloud shapes … all completely
unpronounceable.  Imagine it!  Ri warriors riding around on horses
they were forced to nick-name ‘Fluffy’ and ‘Streaky’!  The Equus said it
was just embarrassing –’

‘Glad he’s
gone for something more basic this time then,’ commented Phantasm drily as the
Equus approached them, leading three horses.  Two were slightly built bay
geldings, almost a matched pair.  Their calm, steady gait spoke of a quiet
and biddable nature.  The third, larger and more powerfully built horse
tossed his head and fought against the head collar as he hauled forward by the
Equus. 

‘These two are
brothers, Mars and Jupiter,’ the Equus nodded towards the pair of bays. 
‘And this is Cirrus, the last of the cloud-named generation,’ he indicated to
the fidgeting horse then jerked his hand back as Cirrus tried to bite it
bad-temperedly.

‘Why hasn’t he
been bought yet?’  Mistral asked, looking covetously at Cirrus.

The Equus
patted Cirrus’ glossy black neck.  Cirrus rolled his eyes, showing a
frightening amount of white in the process. 

‘Cirrus hasn’t
found the right owner yet,’ the Equus said a touch defensively.  ‘He’s a
bit, well –
temperamental
– I suppose you’d call it.  He gets it
from his dam, too much firebrand blood in the line.’

‘Firebrand? 
Really?’  Mistral admired the horse’s strong clean legs and muscled flanks
with an almost fanatical gleam in her eye.  ‘Aren’t they meant to be
untameable?’

The Equus
snorted angrily, sounding not unlike one of his charges, ‘Untameable? 
Rubbish!  Firebrands are just strong-willed and need the right
handling.  You can’t just march up to one and get on!  They need to
be shown respect and to respect their rider.

‘Firebrand
blood runs through all the Ri herd, but his dam was a pure bred.  I found
her injured and brought her back to heal her.  I thought a bit of new
blood would help strengthen the line – which it did, but Cirrus here, well,
he’s been needing a
suitable
rider for a couple of years now and it
doesn’t  look like one’s coming along neither –’

Mistral was
only half-listening to the Equus, she was moving calmly and slowly towards
Cirrus, making sure he could see every motion she made.  Cirrus rolled his
eyes and stamped a large iron-shod hoof but didn’t try to pull away from
her.  When she was level with his arched neck she stopped and stood
completely still.  Her hands hung open by her sides in a relaxed
stance.  Every breath she drew and exhaled was easy and steady. 
After a moment she reached out to take the lead rope from the Equus.

The Equus
grunted and handed her the rope then moved away with the two bay geldings to
where Phantasm and Phantom were standing a safe distance away.  Mistral
could hear the sound of the Equus’ rough voice singing the geldings’ praises
and Phantasm’s wind-chime voice asking questions, but she only had eyes for the
horse before her. 

Cirrus stamped
a hoof impatiently and swished his tail.

‘Hello
Cirrus,’ murmured Mistral, sliding a hand onto his smooth neck and stroking it gently. 
Cirrus gave a haughty toss of his head and snorted but didn’t move away. 
Gradually Mistral moved up alongside his proud head and laid her hand out flat
beneath his velvet nose.  After a moment’s pause Cirrus dropped his head
and nuzzled her palm, looking for a treat.  Mistral cast a quick glance at
the Equus and grinned when she saw him in the process of taking money from the
twins.  The familiar reckless impulse that had so often led her into
trouble in the past was upon her again.  Leading Cirrus over to the
mounting block at the side of the yard she ran lightly up the steps then paused
and drew in a deep breath before swinging her leg over his broad back.

Cirrus snorted
and wheeled, arching his back and threatening to buck and dislodge the strange
weight astride him.  Mistral gripped tightly with her legs and twined her
hands into his mane, ready to hang on in case he rebelled in earnest. 
After a few seconds Cirrus decided that Mistral was no threat and walked
purposefully over towards the paddock instead, keen to be back out with the
rest of the herd.  Mistral made no effort to deter him; she was too
impressed with his smoothly powerful gait and couldn’t wait to empty her purse
into the Equus’ open palm.

When they
reached the paddock gate Mistral felt that she had achieved quite enough for
one day.  Sliding quickly from his back and swiftly unbuckling his head
collar she pushed open the gate into the paddock and quickly stepped to the
side, away from Cirrus’ hard hooves.  Cirrus walked through and turned to
look at her briefly before flinging out both back legs in a mighty buck. 
Neighing wildly he thundered away across the paddock, scattering the herd
before him.  Mistral leaned against the gate and watched him bully the
herd, galloping back and forth and snapping at any horse in his path.  She
was smitten.

Phantasm and
Phantom sauntered over, each leading a bay gelding.  Seeing the look on
her face they both sighed and shook their blonde heads.

‘It’s like
those wretched butterfly knives all over again isn’t it?’  Phantom said
with a resigned look on his face.

‘He’s
magnificent,’ breathed Mistral, not taking her eyes from Cirrus who was still
mercilessly harassing the rest of the herd.

It was all
they could do to tear her away as the sun began to set on the short winter day
and darkness finally impaired her view.  The Equus walked with them back
to the yard to stable the twins’ new purchases safely away from the marauding
Cirrus.

‘Looks like
you’ve made your mind up then,’ he said to Mistral as she fished inside her
shirt for her much diminished purse of money.  

‘No question
about it,’ she said happily, counting coins out into his open palm. 

‘Reckon he
might have taken to you as well,’ the Equus said grudgingly, dropping the coins
into his own leather purse.  ‘Well if you’ve got your heart set on that
one I suppose you’d best call me by my first name since I’m going to be picking
you up off the ground a lot – it’s Clovis.’ 

Before Mistral
could reply – or laugh – the Equus turned and stomped off across the darkening
yard.

As the twins
had predicted, more newcomers began to arrive in the Valley over the course of
the next week, obviously there to begin their apprenticeships.  All the
rooms in The Cloak and Dagger were taken and the tavern filled up each evening
with rowdy and boisterous bodies, all talking excitedly about the training that
lay ahead of them. 

It was the eve
of the New Year and Mistral and the twins were sat drinking at a table
together.  Mistral was relaxed, leaning back in her chair to listen with
amusement while the twins delivered a running commentary on everyone that
walked in.

‘Definitely
yarthkin blood,’ said Phantasm studying a tall dark haired figure that walked
through the door and strolled across towards the bar.

‘Do you think
he’s here for training?’  Mistral asked, looking at the figure with
interest.  Some of the newcomers were young like her and the twins; others
were older and obviously fully qualified Ri warriors in the Valley on
business.  They were conspicuous by the way they tended to keep to
themselves and also by the rather frightening amount of scars some of them had.

‘Definitely
... no scars you see,’ murmured Phantasm.