The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (32 page)

The twins had dismounted and
joined the archers.  Mistral clenched her fists and watched jealously
while they drew their longbows and fired.  Fire and cover.  Cover and
fire.  The cycle went on in a drone of arrows being fired and arrows
striking metal.  Mistral watched, feeling useless and frustrated. 
For the first time in her life she was actually pleased to hear the familiar
cold tones of Leo’s voice.  He had ridden back to issue battle orders to
the Ri warriors massed at the head of the path leading down to the quay.

‘We will engage with the
Rochfortes directly on the quayside.  The Council will remain on the
cliffs to cast protective spells over us for the duration of the battle. 
Their spells will only afford protection against the Craft, not their
swords.  Standard mounted formation.  Swords ready.  We go under
the cover of the next arrow fire.  On my word –’

Leo paused and waited for Gleacher’s
next shouted order to fire.  When Gleacher’s iron shout rang out, Leo’s
cold voice followed a split second after.

‘Warriors!  With me!’

With no sound other than the
thunder of galloping hooves and the whistle of arrows flying through the air,
the Ri warriors spurred their horses down the hill and onto the quayside. 

Cirrus and Spirit wheeled
excitedly, sensing battle.  Fabian drew his sword and turned to fix
Mistral with his intense black stare.

‘Stay by me!’ 

‘I will always be by your side.’  Mistral
promised fiercely.

He held her gaze for a heartbeat
then abruptly turned Spirit and urged her after the other warriors. 
Mistral quickly drew one of her own swords and dug her heels into Cirrus,
galloping down the hill to the dark quayside.  With a mighty roar the Ri
warriors slammed into the massed ranks of Rochforte soldiers and the battle
began. 

There was no time to think, only
to react.  Fabian was immediately attacked by a Rochforte soldier mounted
on a heavily armoured horse.  Spirit reared in panic as a second soldier
smashed his horse into her and slashed wildly at Fabian, forcing him pull
Spirit back and defend against both attackers at once.  With a shout of
fury Mistral pushed Cirrus forwards, barging one of the horses away from Fabian. 
Snarling into the barely visible face of the rider, Mistral swung her sword
around and began to fight, urging Cirrus on with every blow; giving her enemy
no respite until she saw the white shine of fear in his eyes and knew she had
her first mark.

The soldier fell to be instantly
replaced by another.  Before she could raise her sword to strike, Fabian
had forced Spirit in front of her, drawing the soldier’s blows.  Mistral
barely had time to pull Cirrus out of his way before another soldier rode at
her, the impact making Cirrus stumble.  Off balance, Mistral found herself
fighting off a frenzy of sword strikes while Cirrus recovered.  The
soldier deftly parried her clumsy strikes and caught her outstretched arm with
his own blade, slicing into the unprotected skin.  Laughing at her shout
of pain, he drew his arm up to strike again.  Mistral kicked Cirrus hard,
ramming him into the other horse and knocking it sideways.  Switching her
sword to her uninjured left hand, Mistral arced it through the air towards the
panicking soldier.

‘Mine!’ 

A laughing shout rang out above
the clamour of battle and the soldier abruptly crumpled, clasping a hand to his
throat.  Mistral spun round to see Cain grinning at her. 

‘Get your own damned quota and
stop stealing mine!’  Mistral yelled.
 
Cain just laughed and pushed his light grey mare up alongside her, a
throwing knife poised ready in one hand and a sword gripped in the other. 

Cain’s mocking laughter was
drowned out by the sound of a horse squealing in pain followed by a deep
growl.  Mistral’s eyes immediately raked the churning sea of horses around
her.  She couldn’t see Prospero but his guttural snarls were close. 
Her dog and her Mage were fighting by her side, both protecting her. 

Her Mage.

Fabian.

Mistral looked for him, seeing
him almost immediately.  He was separated from her by Cain, both fighting
with Rochforte soldiers.  Time slowed, the din of battle faded to a
distant murmur.  There was nothing but Fabian.  The dawn light
revealing the face she loved, set in the merciless expression of an
assassin.  Because of her.  All because of her.  Mistral felt a
pain sharper than any sword cut and yanked Cirrus around, pushing past Cain to
fight alongside her husband. 

The cloying stench of battle
filled her nostrils; blood and sweat mingled with the burning reek of
ozone.  Coloured lights flared in the sky where the two sides’ spells
collided, bathing the fighting armies in an eerie glow.  The Ri warriors
ignored the explosions overhead and fought on, shielded by their armour and,
unknowingly to them, by the protective spells cast by the Council.

Dawn broke out across the eastern
horizon, shedding pale grey light over the raging living and the silent
fallen.  Mistral saw their still forms while she fought and hoped none
were her brothers, but she had no time to spare for the dead. 

Arrows and spells flew overhead,
shouted oaths and the screams of the injured mingled with the ringing clash of
steel.  In the confusion Mistral thought she heard Prospero’s deep bark
but couldn’t see his familiar grey and white body anywhere.  Other oddly
disjointed noises reached her ears, the crackle of spells being cast, Grendel’s
roar, the thud of his battle axe and the clang of iron-shod hooves striking
cobbles; but it all meant nothing to her.  She was oblivious to everything
except the Rochforte soldier before her and the constant presence of Fabian by
her side.

The soldier Mistral was fighting
leered obscenely when the growing light revealed her to be a woman.  She
bared her teeth and raised her sword to strike when a startling explosion of
white light flooded her vision.  She slashed blindly at the soldier, her
sword glancing uselessly against his metal armour.  The soldier laughed
and struck at her chestplate, driving the air from her lungs with the force of
his blow.  Winded, Mistral had no strength to raise her sword.  She
opened her mouth, trying to suck in air to feed her leaden arms when hot liquid
suddenly gushed across her face, blinding her, filling her mouth with the coppery
taste of blood.  Dragging a hand across her face Mistral opened her
stinging eyes to see the soldier’s headless body sliding from the saddle. 
At his side was Fabian, merciless with fury, his blooded sword still raised.

For a split-second Mistral met his
black gaze then lifted her sword once more and turned to meet the soldier that
instantly appeared to replace his fallen comrade.  Twisting in the saddle,
she swung her sword, delivering a heavy blow that struck him across his exposed
forearm.  His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a scream of pain. 
Pulling his horse sharply backwards, he abruptly turned and forced it back
towards the open hold of one of the ships.

Mistral shouted and gave chase
but Fabian was before her again, blocking her path.

‘No Mistral!’

Her reply was an incoherent
snarl, her eyes wild, the pupils dilated with battle-fever.

‘Look Mistral.  See?’

Mistral tore her furious gaze
away from Fabian to see the blood-soaked quay beyond him.  She bared her
teeth again, this time in a savage grin.  The Ri warriors had nearly
reached the four docked ships.  Fights were continuing in sporadic bursts
around the quay, but more Rochforte soldiers were fleeing than fighting. 
The Ri were winning.  

‘Regroup!’

Leo’s bellowed order carried
above the diminished noise of battle.  The Ri immediately withdrew,
galloping back across the quay towards the cliff top path.  Sliding her
sword back into its holster, Mistral turned to Fabian.  No shouted order
from Leo would make her leave his side.  She would go when he said and not
a moment before.  

‘The Rochfortes are outnumbered
now.  It is nearly finished.’  Fabian’s eyes moved quickly over the
chaos of retreating soldiers.  ‘We must go before they reorganise. 
We’re too close to their archers.’

Throwing a last fierce glare in
the direction of the retreating soldiers Mistral pulled Cirrus around to face
the cliffs again.  A sudden movement made her instinctively reach for her
sword.  She spun around see Fabian urging Spirit directly in front of her,
his face oddly calm.  Mistral heard the noise then, the high-pitched whine
of death.  Arrow fire. 

Fabian’s body jerked sharply, the
force of the arrow’s impact nearly throwing him from Spirit’s back.

‘No!’

Mistral’s scream was a feral
shriek, agonised and raw.  She fired wildly at the archers then grabbed
Spirit’s reins and hauled the horse after her.  Pushing Cirrus into a
flat-out gallop she fled across the body-strewn quayside, expecting with every
stride to feel the thud of an arrow.  She could hear arrows overhead and
knew the Ri were returning fire.  Under their cover she reached the
winding cliffside path and safety.  She pulled Cirrus back and looked at
Fabian, dreading what she would see. 

He was riding one handed, his
left arm hanging uselessly by his side.  The long shaft of an arrow
protruded clearly from just below his left collarbone.  His face was a
mask of pain, but more worryingly, he looked as though he were fighting to
remain conscious. 

‘No, no, no!’  Mistral
moaned and pushed on again, galloping up the path to the cliff top, yelling for
the twins at the top of her voice.

‘Mistral!’  Phantasm was
suddenly beside her, his pale face streaked with blood.

‘Cain!  I need – Fabian’s
been shot!  I –I think it’s poisoned!  He keeps sliding under!’

Phantasm vanished and Phantom
swiftly appeared beside her, riding one-handed while he tried to staunch a
wound on his neck.

Mistral stared at him, ‘What
happened to you?’

‘Arrow nicked me.  S’not too
bad, but I can’t stop it bleeding.’

Mistral’s gaze snapped back to
Fabian, torn between her desire not to take her eyes off him for one moment and
her brother’s obvious need.  Fabian was slumped in the saddle, his head
was bowed onto his chest but he appeared to be hanging on to consciousness.  Mistral
reached hastily into her saddlebag and fumbled for her medical kit. 
Opening it with shaking hands she tugged out roll of linen gauze and a bottle
of ointment. 

‘Here.’ she reached over to press
the ointment soaked gauze to Phantom’s bleeding neck.  ‘Hold that
on.  It’ll sting like – oh thank you!’  she gasped suddenly when
Phantasm returned with Cain.  ‘Help him brother!’

Cain pulled his horse up
alongside Fabian’s and leaned over to examine the wound.  He didn’t touch
it or even try to remove the arrow and delivered his verdict after mere
seconds. 

‘That’s poisoned.  We need
to treat it quickly!’

‘Where?’  Mistral demanded,
staring around wildly.  She was dimly aware of Leo shouting orders to
organise the warriors for a second wave of attack, but only Fabian mattered
now.

‘Not here.’  Cain
frowned.  ‘This will be a battlefield soon.  The Council are going to
come down and finish up.’

‘Take all the glory you mean.’
 Phantom muttered, examining the blood-soaking gauze in his hand and
pressing it against his neck again.

‘Where then?’  Mistral’s
voice cracked, high with growing hysteria.

‘We’ll ride.  Get back to a
safe position and treat him there.  We need fresh water to boil up
though.  Where’s the nearest stream?’

Phantasm shook his head, ‘Miles
away.’ 

‘If we ride hard we can make it
to our house by sunset!’  Mistral hissed, her eyes darting frantically
between Fabian and Cain.  ‘Will that be soon enough?’

‘He’s a Mage.  He should
make it that far.’

‘Let’s go!’ 

Mistral kicked Cirrus on, pulling
Spirit with her and forcing the tired horses into a heavy gallop back along the
cliffside path.  The roar of the Ri riding back into battle faded to be
replaced by the monotonous thud of hooves and the sobbing breathing of
horses.  Mistral was suddenly aware of a second, lighter set of feet
running beside her and glanced down with a burst of relief to see Prospero
running alongside, his thick coat splattered with blood. 

Fabian began to drift in and out
of consciousness and had to be supported on either side by Mistral and
Cain.  At Cain’s insistence they stopped frequently to force water into
his mouth and check the wound.  During the brief stops Mistral was next to
useless, staring frozenly at the long shaft protruding from Fabian’s shoulder,
eventually causing Cain to snap at her.

‘Get it together Mistral! 
I’ve seen you pull an arrow out of yourself without even flinching!’

She shook her head fearfully,
still staring at the arrow, ‘I don’t care about me.  But I – I care about
him.’

‘If you care about him then
toughen up!  This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better,
believe me.’

The twins rode alongside her,
uncomplaining of their own injuries but Mistral hardly registered their
presence.  She was aware only of Fabian’s weakening state and the pressing
need to keep pushing the horses on.  Barely a word was spoken as they
rode.  The bright spring day took on a nightmarish quality.  Time
either rushed by in a haze of adrenalin or seemed to stand completely
still.  Fear numbed all of her senses leaving only a gnawing desperation
to get Fabian home … get Fabian home… the words revolved ceaselessly in her
head, as though the simple act of carrying his unconscious body through the
door of their home would somehow heal him.

Night had fallen by the time they
pulled their exhausted horses to a staggering halt in the paved courtyard of
the mountain house.

‘We’ll take the horses.’  

Phantom spoke but Mistral barely
heard him.  She threw herself from Cirrus and ran to help Cain lift Fabian
from Spirit’s back, carrying him between them into the house and up to the
bedroom.