The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (31 page)

Mistral looked
slightly shocked, ‘I shall never trust anything you tell me ever again!’

‘Oh, come on
Mistral!  We wouldn’t lie to you!  It’s too much fun telling you the
truth and watching you lose your temper about it.’

‘I don’t lose
my temper when you tell me the truth!’

‘So,’ said
Phantasm slowly, ‘how about the time we told you that Bali was more suited to
be the leader on the troll hunt than you?  Did you accept that truth with
grace and dignity?’

‘Of course I
did!’  Mistral snapped haughtily.

The twins
laughed and continued to relate stories of the many times Mistral had thrown a
tantrum over something she hadn’t wanted to accept.  The rest of the
afternoon passed by without any event other than Mistral having to bear the brunt
of the twins’ sharp-witted comments.  She bit her tongue and suffered in
silence, just managing to keep her temper in check.  Mistral knew they
were only winding her up and she also knew that it was deserved.  The
feeling of guilt over persuading them to accept the doomed Contract was all
that kept her from losing her temper and riding off in a huff.  

They camped
that night at the base of a short ridge.  The village of Nevelte lay in
the valley just over the rise but it was too late to ride in.  Darkness
would be falling soon and Mistral had no wish to spend a whole night in the
village.  A brief passing visit that entailed not even getting off Cirrus
was more what she had in mind. 

Mistral and
the twins spent the evening playing long games of knucklebones; all of which
Phantom won – of course.  He was an excellent player and an incorrigible
cheat.

‘The company I
keep!’  Mistral exclaimed in a disgusted voice and handed another bronze
coin to a grinning Phantom.  ‘Liars and cheats!’

‘Whatever
next?’  Phantom asked mockingly and dropped the coin into his leather
pouch.  ‘Thieves and assassins?’

They all
laughed.

‘Let’s get
some sleep,’ Phantasm suggested with a yawn.  ‘I want to be fresh for
tomorrow.  It’s going to be a big day.’

‘No it’s not,’
muttered Mistral throwing him a black look.

‘Oh come on,
it’ll be great!  Is there a tavern in the village?  If there is I’ll
buy us all a drink!’  Phantom gave his money pouch a smug shake. 

Mistral
scowled at them both and rolled herself into her cloak, pointedly facing away
from them.  They laughed and finished the game they were playing before
rolling themselves in their cloaks and settling down for the night. 
Mistral lay awake for a long while, listening to the gentle murmur of their
hushed conversation until they both eventually fell asleep.  The silence
was bliss; sometimes Mistral found the twins’ constant chatter a bit
wearing.  She was actually surprised that they didn’t talk in their
sleep. 

Mistral rolled
onto her back and gazed up at the night sky.  The twins had refused to
camp near the trees out of concern that the Blackheart Wolverines might attack
them while they slept.  They’d made camp further out in the open instead
and it was cold away from the shelter of the trees, but the view of the sky was
worth it.  The stars shone like thousands of diamonds scattered over black
velvet and seemed to gleam with a brighter intensity than they did over the
Valley.  Sleep was a long time coming.  Mistral fell to trying to
count the stars in an effort to encourage her mind to shut down but her
thoughts kept returning with monotonous regularity to the Contract, Leo Sphinx
and Fabian De Winter. 

Phantasm was
right, something just didn’t ring true with this Contract.  Why hadn’t Leo
just travelled to meet Mage Grapple himself?  Or even go to The Desert
Lands?  It wasn’t unheard of for Leo to take mercenary work.  In
fact, their Training Captain was notorious for abandoning his apprentices at
the drop of a hat and charging off half way around the world to fight wars in
obscure lands.  And as for Fabian De Winter, Mistral suddenly grew angry –
trying to conceal his true intentions from her was a mistake.  Mistral
scowled to herself in the dark as she recalled the emotions she had seen in his
aura.  Love!  She almost spat the word out aloud.  What a
chivalrous fool he was!  Arranging a rescue mission for a woman that
didn’t want him!  Mistral wasn’t fooled by the flimsy cover story about
Count Putreo’s intentions.  Words lied, but auras didn’t.  She sighed
angrily to herself.  It was a mess ... that was for sure.  Everyone
seemed to want to achieve some selfish end from this Contract and she’d
recklessly landed her and the twins right into the middle of it.  As
usual.     

Return To Nevelte

 

Mistral woke
at dawn with the persisting feeling of something unpleasant looming.  She
looked up at the pale dawn sky and remembered with a groan that today she had
agreed to return to her home village.

‘Good
morning!’  Phantom called cheerfully and paused in his task of rolling up
his cloak to grin at her.  ‘Isn’t it a beautiful morning for a little
family visit?’

Mistral
scowled at him and crawled stiffly out from under her cloak.

‘Oh dear, did
someone not get enough sleep last night?’  Phantasm asked with a smile.

He was
preparing a breakfast from yesterday’s leftover lunch and Mistral stomped over
to take a piece of bread and cold meat from him, biting into it hungrily.

‘I’m going to
ignore your brother’s pathetic attempts to irritate me,’ she snapped, ‘and
focus on the Contract, which I have been thinking about for most of the night
actually.’

‘Well you can
stop right there,’ said Phantom firmly.  ‘Because I don’t want anything to
ruin the fun we’re going to have finding out all about Mistral Junior’s exploits. 
I wonder,’ he mused with a happy look on his face, ‘have you always been so
very objectionable or is it a recent development to your general sunny
nature?  I can’t wait to find out!’

Mistral closed
her eyes and counted to ten, breathing deeply.  She had resolved not to
let the twins make her lose her temper today.  It was going to be an
uncomfortable enough visit without her letting slip the angry words that were
on the tip of her tongue and offending the twins.  When they sulked it was
usually an epic event that went on for days. 

Leaving the
twins to finish their breakfast, Mistral went to retrieve Cirrus and saddle him
ready for the journey.  She took her time brushing him down, finding the
contact with the horse soothing.  He dipped his soft muzzle into her hand,
looking for a treat.

‘I haven’t got
anything, I’m sorry boy,’ she murmured regretfully and rubbed his ears by way
of an apology.

Cirrus blew
air out through his nostrils into her palm in a warm gust, as though trying to
reassure her that it didn’t matter.

‘At least you
accept me for who I am and not who I was,’ she muttered morosely to him as she
slid the saddle onto his back.

‘Don’t be so
dramatic Mistral,’ chided Phantasm walking up behind her carrying Jupiter’s
saddle in his arms.  ‘You know we won’t judge you.’

‘Then why are
you making me go through this?’  Mistral demanded petulantly.

Phantasm
shrugged and looked at her with a mischievous glint in his green eyes, ‘Just
feeling impish I guess.  But it could be something to do with the fact
that you owe us a little payback for the pretty much unachievable Contract you
signed us up to.’

Mistral raised
her eyes upwards and fought to hold her rising temper, ‘Fine,’ she
muttered.  ‘Let’s just go shall we.’

‘Ah,
finally.  The enthusiasm we’ve been waiting to see.’

Ignoring him,
Mistral swung herself up into the saddle and turned Cirrus around to the face
the small ridge that separated her from the village she’d grown up in. 
With a resigned sigh, she kicked Cirrus into a trot.  Flanked on either
side by the eager-faced twins, they began to ascend the short slope. 

They quickly
gained the summit of the short ridge.  Mistral reined Cirrus to a halt and
gazed down at the tiny village of Nevelte, nestling below them in the bowl
shaped valley.  Smoke was rising from one or two chimneys, signalling that
some of the villagers were already up and going about their daily business.

‘Very
picturesque,’ said Phantasm approvingly.  ‘I can’t wait to see your old
house.’

Mistral shot
him a cold look, ‘It’s pointless stopping, Mage Grapple obviously isn’t here,
or we’d be able to see his army.  I think we should ride on.’

The twins
looked at her with scandalised expressions on their faces.

‘Mistral! 
How cruel do you think I am?’  Phantom exclaimed in shocked tones. 
‘How could I deny you the opportunity to be welcomed back into the bosom of
your family?  I don’t think I could be that heartless.’

‘Oh for crying
out loud!’  Mistral snapped.  ‘I don’t know what you are expecting
but Brothertoft and Elnora are just a pair of clapped-out sorcerers who nearly
bored me to death for the first sixteen years of my life, and if it’s alright
with you I don’t really fancy a yawn down memory lane.’

Phantasm
favoured her with a reproachful look, ‘Really Mistral!  That is no way to
speak about the people that raised you.  Show some gratitude! 
Anyway, Mage Grapple may not be here right now, but we need to check whether he
has been.’

Mistral
scowled at him but didn’t argue.  She knew he was right about checking to
see if Mage Grapple had been there and also about being ungrateful, but she was
too stubborn to admit that, so instead she nodded sulkily towards the village.

‘After you
then.’

The twins
smiled beatifically at her and began the ride down into the valley, breaking
into a light canter once they reached the grass covered floor of the
valley. 

Mistral
watched them go and gazed broodingly at the inconsequential collection of stone
houses that had been her prison for so many years.  It looked somehow
smaller than she remembered, and more shabby.  Cirrus shook his head
impatiently and began to fidget; the twins were nearly at the village. 
Mistral decided that she’d better catch them up before they started asking
questions of the first person they met.  Kicking Cirrus into a gallop she
thundered wildly down the slope and charged across the pasture to arrive,
windswept and exhilarated, beside the twins. 

‘Better now?’
asked Phantasm with a smile.

Mistral nodded
tersely, ‘The sooner we get there, the sooner we can be on our way again.’

‘That’s the
spirit of gratitude I was looking for,’ murmured Phantasm with a smile.

They slowed
the horses to a walk and entered the village along the rutted dirt road that
served as a main street.  The sound of their arrival immediately drew
attention from the villagers.  Curious faces appeared at grimy windows
only to quickly vanish again.  All three were instantly recognisable for
what they were. 

Phantasm and
Phantom rode quietly, looking straight ahead, but Mistral could see their
emerald green eyes sliding over their surroundings, taking in every
detail.  Mistral pulled the hood of her cloak up and kept her face down,
she had no desire to see or speak to any of the villagers and the feeling appeared
to be mutual.  The villagers had apparently decided to remain safely
behind closed doors until the three apprentices had left their village. 
Mistral caught another curtain twitch out of the corner of her eye and
reflected sourly that the villagers would probably be talking about it for the
next two weeks.

When they
reached the end of the main street Mistral drew back the hood of her cloak to
check her surroundings.  After a short pause she pointed to a tiny stone
cottage tucked back from the rest, surrounded by a low wooden fence. 

‘It’s that
one,’ she said quietly.

They
dismounted and tethered their horses to the wooden fence at the front of the
cottage, where they could be easily seen through the kitchen window. 
Mistral had ‘borrowed’ enough horses in her time to want hers to be in plain
sight for the duration of her visit.  She hung back under the pretence of
checking Cirrus was securely tied and let the twins stroll unhurriedly ahead of
her towards the front door.  She was in no rush to go inside.  Mistral
stared pensively at the cottage she had believed she would never have to see
again and noticed immediately that it was looking a bit rundown.  Some of
the tiles were missing from the roof, weeds were growing between the flagstones
of the path leading to the front door and the flowers Elnora had lovingly
tended in the tiny window boxes were brown and decayed.  Glancing up at
the smokeless chimney Mistral suddenly wondered if the old couple had died
during the hard winter.

Phantasm had
reached the front door.  He lifted his clenched fist to knock then paused,
looking at Mistral over his shoulder he winked mischievously.  Galvanised
into action, Mistral hurried up the path, reaching him just as he knocked
loudly on the door.  No sounds of activity greeted the knock and when the
seconds lengthened into minutes hope rose in Mistral that the door would remain
unanswered.  She was about to suggest that they left when the rasp of a
bolt being drawn indicated that someone was in.  The door creaked opened a
fraction and a wispy haired old man peered cautiously through the gap. 
His rheumy eyes widened when he took in the ethereal creature on his
doorstep. 

‘Are you an
angel?’ he quavered, goggling at Phantasm.

Mistral rolled
her eyes; it looked like Brothertoft had lost his mind.  

‘Oh for pity’s
sake Brothertoft, it’s me!’ she said loudly, pushing past Phantasm so that the
old man could see her. 

His mottled
forehead creased into a deep frown, ‘Is it really you?’ he whispered shakily.

‘Yes it
is.  Can we come in?’ she asked with an impatient lift of her
eyebrows.  ‘Only we’re in a bit of a hurry.’

Brothertoft’s
face wore an expression of utter bewilderment but he nodded submissively and
opened the door wider, shuffling out of the way to let the three apprentices
into his home.

‘Brothertoft I
presume?’ asked Phantasm, politely grasping the old man’s gnarled hand in his
before vanishing quickly into the dingy gloom of the kitchen.

‘So pleased to
meet you,’ chimed Phantom, shaking Brothertoft’s trembling hand. 

The old man’s
watery eyes bulged in frank disbelief as the perfect mirror image of the twins
sat down at his kitchen table, ‘Am I seeing things?’ he whispered looked
terrified.

‘They’re
twins,’ explained Mistral, folding her arms and leaning against the dirty stone
sink with a heavy sigh.  This was going to be more painful than she had
imagined. 

The twins
beamed at the old man, dazzling him.  He blinked back, looking
awe-struck.  There was an awkward silence broken by Phantasm.

‘But where are
my manners?  Forgive our sudden arrival, but we were travelling nearby and
thought it would be rude not to call in,’ he paused and smiled
charmingly.  ‘Allow me to introduce myself; I am Phantasm and this is my
twin brother Phantom.’

Brothertoft’s
toothless mouth worked silently, trying unsuccessfully to shape the twins’
names.  After a few tries he gave up and shuffled towards the dresser at
the back of the kitchen.

‘Drink?’

‘Lovely,’
agreed Phantom, leaping gracefully to his feet and gliding across the room to
take the jug of cider from Brothertoft’s shaking hands. 

‘Allow me,’
murmured Phantasm, smoothly placing four dusty goblets on the wooden table.

Mistral
narrowed her eyes at him but he carefully avoided her stare.  Plying
Brothertoft with drink to encourage him to be talkative was definitely below
the belt.  She took a sip of the rough cider Phantom passed her and gazed
dispassionately around the familiar kitchen.  The neglected air that she
had noticed outside persisted in the dingy kitchen.  Cobwebs hung from the
low beamed ceiling, the floor looked as though it hadn’t been swept for weeks
and the stove had last night’s cold ashes still sitting in the
grate.   

‘Where’s
Elnora?’ she asked suddenly.

Brothertoft
didn’t reply at once but lowered himself slowly onto one of the rickety
chairs.  He took a long drink of cider and set the half-full goblet down
on the table before finally replying to Mistral’s question.

‘She died last
winter,’ he stated matter-of-factly.  He looked up to fix Mistral with his
watery stare, adding with a touch of defiance.  ‘I’ll be following her
soon.’

Mistral nodded
silently and gazed thoughtfully at the amber liquid in her cup.  She had
suspected that the old woman had passed away by the state of the cottage. 
After a moment she looked up again to see the twins staring icily at her. 
Taken aback by their expressions, Mistral frowned back at them.

‘What?’ she
mouthed.

They glared at
her and tilted their heads meaningfully towards Brothertoft.

‘Oh,’ she said
as realisation dawned.  ‘Right, yes, I’m so sorry Brothertoft, it must
have been a terrible shock for you,’ she said quickly.

Brothertoft
regarded her suspiciously, ‘Not really,’ he said sharply.  ‘She was old
and ill; like me.’

Mistral
suppressed a laugh; Brothertoft had always been the no-nonsense sort,  ‘To
Elnora,’ she said raising her goblet solemnly and draining it in one long
draught. 

The twins and
Brothertoft echoed her toast and Phantasm slyly topped Brothertoft‘s goblet up
the moment he placed it back down on the table.  Mistral scowled
threateningly at him but he ignored her with sublime indifference and turned
his attention to Brothertoft.  Smiling engagingly at the old man, Phantasm
leaned across the table on his elbows and folded his hands under his chin, his
angelic face expectant.

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