The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (61 page)

It was with
relief that the sweating and exhausted apprentices exited the room, heading
straight for the showers and then The Cloak and Dagger.  Mistral stayed in
her room until she was sure that Golden and Columbine had finished their
showers before she entered the bathroom, gritting her teeth against the
inevitable sluice of ice cold water.   

The Cloak and
Dagger was full when Mistral arrived, clean but tired and slid onto a stool
next to Phantom and Phantasm.

‘Here,’ said Phantasm,
sliding a tankard towards her which Mistral took and raised it gratefully to
her mouth.

‘One down,
four to go,’ said Phantom, raising his tankard in a toast.

‘I’ll drink to
that,’ said Mistral, privately thinking that was when she would get to see
Fabian again.  It was startling how much she missed him.  Even though
her day had been anything but slow, Mistral felt the constant dull ache of
yearning that she knew would only be assuaged when she saw him again on
Saturday. 

‘Let’s get to
the Arena early tomorrow morning for a practise,’ said Phantom, fretting again
about his skills with the longbow again.

Dragging
herself reluctantly out of her Fabian-based reverie, Mistral nodded and took
another long drink.  Dehydrated and tired from the long day, she could
already feel the pleasant buzz of the alcohol in her head.  Yawning
widely, she ran a hand distractedly through her hair.

‘Careful,
that’s a sure sign that we’re boring you,’ warned Phantasm.

‘Sorry –’ she
yawned again, thinking longingly of her bed.  ‘But I think an early night
is in order for me.’  

Finishing her
drink, she placed the tankard onto the table and stood up to leave, ‘I’ll see
you at breakfast,’ she said, turning to go.

‘Want us to
walk you back?’  Phantasm asked.

‘Since
when?’  Mistral laughed and walked out of the tavern and into the cold
December night.

Revived by the
cold air, Mistral walked across the village square and suddenly realised that
she hadn’t seen Cirrus all day and decided to take a detour into the stableyard
to say goodnight to her horse.

Walking
quickly across the dark stableyard, Mistral slipped into the open doorway of
the stableblock and stole over to where Cirrus was dozing in his stall. 
She greeted her horse softly and spent a few happy moments stroking his velvet
nose before the sound of raised voices coming from above reached her ears.

Someone was
having an argument in the hayloft. 

Mistral
strained her ears to listen.  She could make out two voices, one was the
unmistakable granite voice of Leo Sphinx and the second had the annoying
musical quality of a bell being rung repeatedly. 

Golden.

Intrigued,
Mistral held her breath and listened intently.

‘It was too
much this time!  You made a fool of me in front of my first years!  I
cannot have it!’

‘Oh, so you’ll
let
her
get away with anything but I can’t even make one tiny
mistake!  It was only a kiss Leo!’  Golden’s bell-like voice was
filled with angry hurt.  Mistral could tell she was close to tears.

‘She got away
with nothing.  I failed that bout!’

Mistral clenched
her fists in anger.  Leo was talking about her bout with Saul.

‘I only did it
to make you jealous!’  Golden’s voice was wheedling rather than seductive,
making Mistral realise how desperate the half-nymph was.  ‘I love you
Leo!’

‘I have no
time for love.’  

Mistral heard
the sound of footsteps approaching the ladder.  In a sudden panic to hide
she dived into the deep banks of straw at the side of Cirrus’ stall, concealing
herself quickly before Leo descended the ladder into the stables.

Ignoring the
irritating tickle of straw against her nose, Mistral listened to Leo’s
footsteps striding out of the stableblock and across the yard.  She waited
for Golden to follow but as the seconds lengthened she realised that the
half-nymph had stayed in the hayloft.

Mistral
silently cursed Golden and deliberated about whether to try and run for it
before she came down or wait until she had gone.  She didn’t want to run
out of the stableblock straight into Leo.  That would be too awkward for
words.  She decided to remain hidden and resigned herself to being
uncomfortable until Golden had gone too.  Listening carefully again,
Mistral could make out the quiet sounds of sobbing coming from above her. 
Golden was crying.

Mistral
remained hidden and drifted in and out of an uncomfortable doze for what felt
like an age before Golden finally left.  Mistral crawled from her hiding
place, numb with cold and itching all over from the straw.  Yawning
tiredly, she walked stiffly towards the dorms, missing Fabian more than
ever. 

Mistral
relayed her story to the twins over breakfast.  Phantasm was
disinterested, he was still too scarred by yesterday’s Golden-related events,
but Phantom was gratifyingly fascinated. 

They ate a
hasty breakfast of something that looked vaguely like a meat stew and hurried
down to the Training Arena for a quick practise session.

‘Do you think
we’ve missed Leo’s morning pep talk by coming down early?’ asked Phantom
worriedly before he drew his bow and aimed at the target at the far end of the
Arena.

‘I hope so,’
said Mistral, reaching over to correct his hand slightly.  ‘That man is
seriously getting on my nerves.’

Phantom closed
one eye and focussed, exhaling slowly he released the string and let the arrow
fly straight to the centre of the target.

‘Perfect!’ 
Mistral cried happily.

The morning
passed quickly and without event.  Target practise was fairly mundane
compared to the intensity of Monday and everyone performed well.  Mistral
couldn’t help but think that shooting a static target that didn’t shoot back
was completely different firing whilst mounted on a galloping horse, under
pressure to reload quicker than the person trying to shoot you. 

Leo was even
more glacial than usual and barely spoke during the entire session. 
Golden looked subdued, her blue eyes red-rimmed and circled with dark rings
that spoke of a sleepless night.

‘Bit too easy
don’t you reckon?’ said Phantom when they walked back to the Refectory for
lunch.

‘Definitely,’
said Mistral.  ‘But who cares if it’s another assessment down.’

 ...
and half a day closer to seeing Fabian again
…

After a
strange lunch of a fish no-one could identify, despite the prolific amount of
identifying bones Bernadette had thoughtfully left in, the apprentices hurried
back to the Training Arena for throwing knife assessment. 

Bored by the
time she had thrown her second knife straight to the centre of the target,
Mistral allowed her mind to wander and gazed distractedly around the
Arena.  Without realising it, she began to read Leo’s aura while he walked
along the line of apprentices.

She was not
surprised to see a russet coloured halo shimmer into view around his blonde
head.  Leo was undoubtedly ambitious.  A wreath of deepest royal blue
ringed the russet defining the intent with which Leo was pursuing his
ambitions.  Smaller blobs of colour, like oil spilled on water, floated
across the russet hue.  A deep purple dominated, reflecting his
frustration and a small amount of lime green marked an underlying greed or
envy; either was entirely possible as far as Leo was concerned.  When Leo
passed by Golden’s lithe figure Mistral almost gasped out aloud at the vast
wave of putrid orange that swamped her vision. 

Leo was
utterly revolted by his ex-lover.

‘Now I know I
missed the centre, but it wasn’t that bad!’ hissed Phantom, misreading her
response to Leo’s aura as a comment on his knife throwing ability.

‘I think
someone was seeing something we can’t see,’ said Phantasm with a sly sideways
look in Mistral’s direction.

‘Oh
yes?’  Phantom murmured, looking at her interestedly and randomly lobbing
a throwing knife in the direction of the target almost hitting Brutus in the
process.

‘Sorry
Brutus!’  Phantom called, pulling an apologetic face.  ‘Mistral
knocked me!’  he shrugged and gave Mistral an accusing look.

Brutus shook
his head but smiled and turned back to the target he was aiming at.

‘Too much
talk!’  Leo’s voice rang out, ending any hopes Phantom had of finding out
what Mistral had seen in their Training Captain’s aura.

The dagger work
was mercifully short.  They all donned full armour and prepared to drill
attacks and disarms with the lethal short goblin-forged daggers that the Ri
favoured.  They had expected to mix and match with one another until they
had all met but Leo only made them work with one partner then abruptly called
an end to the afternoon long before the light had faded from the sky.

‘That was too
easy!’  Phantom exclaimed while they pulled off their armour.  ‘Maybe
he knows that there’s too much of a chance of Columbine actually succeeding in
her heart’s desire to kill one of us if he lets her loose with a dagger in her
hand.’

Mistral
shrugged moodily.  She would have welcoming the opportunity to have a
knife fight with Columbine, anything to distract herself.  The burning
need to see Fabian was growing in her by the hour, stifling her ability to
reason any more.  Her promises of behaving and not getting into trouble
were fading.  The need to assuage the ache of missing him with another
sensation, any sensation, was becoming overwhelming. 

Looking over
his shoulder to check that they were alone, Phantasm pulled his chest plate
over his head and turned to Mistral. 

‘So what did
you see in Master Sphinx’s aura?’  he demanded in a low undertone. 

Mistral
frowned and dragged her mind away from thoughts of seeing Fabian to try and
remember exactly what she’d seen.

‘Nothing
unexpected.  A lot of ambition and purpose or intent – they’re very
close.  Um, some frustration and either greed or envy, either’s entirely
possible with him – but what was shocking was when he walked by Golden his aura
went bright orange!’

The twins
looked at her blankly.

‘Disgust,’ she
said with a roll of her eyes.  ‘How long have I been describing aura
colours to you?’

‘Oh, now that
is worth a drink!  Golden is definitely not coming back for a second year
now!’  Phantom crowed.

‘Shh!’
Phantasm warned, looking over his shoulder again.  ‘Maybe and ... maybe
not.  He may have always felt that way.’

‘What? 
Come on!  He’s been having an affair with her all year!  He wouldn’t
do that if she disgusted him!’  Phantom exclaimed.

‘He might,’
said Phantasm slowly.  ‘Golden is beautiful and desirable – to some,’ he
added with a repulsed shudder.  ‘Master Sphinx would have wanted the best
looking female in his bed as some kind of trophy, whether he actually liked her
or not.  It’s an act of dominance, not love.’

‘I’d really
hate to be in your head,’ muttered Mistral.  ‘That’s horrible!’

‘But why
didn’t he make a play for Mistral then?’  Phantom argued.  ‘She’s
easily as attractive as Golden, well when she brushes her hair that is.’ 

‘Too
troublesome, too spirited –’

‘And right
here!’  Mistral interrupted angrily.  ‘And also damned well not
interested!’

‘Exactly my
point!’  Phantasm said passionately.  ‘Golden doesn’t seek power
directly; she only seeks to align herself with it.  She will always take
the easy path to get what she wants rather than work for it, whereas Mistral
will hack her way through a forest of thorn bushes to get what she wants.’

‘Which isn’t –
and never was – Leo Sphinx!’  Mistral muttered through clenched teeth.

‘No, and I’m
not saying it was,’ Phantasm said soothingly.  ‘But it is an interesting
insight to his character –’

‘What day is
it today?’  Mistral asked suddenly.

‘Tuesday,’
Phantom replied, giving her a strange look.

Only
Tuesday ... three more days to go
… Mistral thought with a deepening sense
of gloom.

Mistral rolled
out of bed at dawn on Wednesday and dragged on her clothes feeling less than
enthusiastic about the day ahead.  She had stayed in The Cloak and Dagger
until closing time, missing Fabian desperately and drinking more than was
probably advisable to dull the ache.  She had also reluctantly submitted
to allowing the twins to practise their Gemini skills on her and couldn’t
decide whether the headache she had now was from them meddling with her will or
from the wine.  Deciding to skip breakfast, she wandered down to the
stables to see Cirrus, feeling again the overwhelming urge to saddle him up and
roam in the mountains, anything to escape the claustrophobic confines of the
Valley.

Wednesday’s
assessment was Basic Medical Care, something Mistral had become necessarily
adept at over the last year.  She walked slowly up to the Infirmary,
thinking how ironic it was that she was actually going there under her own
volition for a change.

The twins were
already there, poking curiously at a tub of some ointment that seemed to be
moving on its own.

‘Where were
you at breakfast?’  Phantom asked looked peeved.  ‘It was your
favourite.  Fish stew!’

Mistral sat
down heavily on one of the hard wooden chairs, ‘Yuk.  Glad I skipped it.’

Phantasm gave
her a calculating look, ‘Mid-week blues?’ he murmured softly.

Mistral scowled
at him and looked away, staring out of the long narrow window by the bed she
had occupied so many times over the last year.

‘Is it me or
is this week going on forever?’ she asked and sighed morosely.

‘Qualifying
week can be stressful and feel longer than a normal week Mistral.’

Serenity’s
familiar soft voice drifted out from the storeroom seconds before she appeared
carrying a large crate of glass bottles.