The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (13 page)

Before their allotted hour was up
the twins had returned to the stableblock.  Mistral had groomed and tacked
both their horses and was finishing tightening Cirrus’ girth when Phantasm
strolled into the stables to find her. 

‘I packed you some clean clothes,
your medical kit, tinder box and armour.’

‘Knife belt?’  Mistral asked
distractedly, grunting as Cirrus barged against her.  Shoving her horse
out of the way she reached out to take the saddlebag from Phantasm.

‘Of course.  Phantom’s got
your swords – oh and here’s your wolverine skin.’  Phantasm passed her the
rolled up pelt.

‘Thanks,’ said Mistral, taking
the bundle and turning to strap it to the back of Cirrus’ saddle.  ‘Your
horses are both tacked and ready for you.  Oh, I changed the bit you’ve
got on Jupiter at the moment, it’s too hard.  That horse would respond to
a piece of silk in his mouth.’

‘Thanks, I didn’t realise. 
The Equus suggested I try it – I’ll go lead him out,’

Phantasm walked off to retrieve
his horse leaving Mistral to finish attaching her saddlebag.

‘Swords.’  Phantom abruptly
dropped her swords in the straw at the edge of Cirrus’ stall then walked off.

Mistral glowered after his
retreating form.  He hadn’t even thanked her for preparing her horse for
him. 

‘You’re welcome!’  she shouted
sarcastically.

‘So are you!’  he retorted
sharply from the other end of the stable.  Mistral had also failed to
thank him for bringing her swords down to her.

Muttering uncomplimentary oaths
about Phantom, Mistral led Cirrus from his stall and out into the yard. 
Fabian was already mounted, holding his nervously fidgeting mare tightly. 
Mistral swung herself up into the saddle and gathered up the reins, waiting
impatiently by Fabian’s side for the twins. 

‘Ready to go?’  Fabian
enquired once the twins had pulled themselves into their saddles.

‘Yes.’  they confirmed in
unison.

‘Mistral?’  Fabian looked at
her enquiringly.

She nodded tersely and kicked
Cirrus hard, clattering out of the yard and across the village square with
Prospero loping along by her side.

Fabian watched her go and sighed
deeply before urging Spirit into a more measured trot after her.

They caught up with Mistral at
the top of the path, slowing to ride single file through the North Gate. 
  Once out in the open meadows they fanned out to ride side by
side.  Mistral found herself between Fabian and Phantom.  Giving
Phantom a frosty look she turned her head and immediately began to speak to
Fabian, pointedly not drawing Phantom into the conversation.  Unnoticed by
Mistral Cirrus rolled his eyes at Phantom’s quiet gelding then lunged, biting
him viciously on the neck.

Mars snorted and shied and
Phantom shot Mistral an angry look, ‘Can’t you control that brute?’ 

‘Don’t you dare call my horse a
brute!’

‘Well he’s hardly been to charm school
has he?  And you’re not much better!  In fact, I think you two are
well suited!’

‘Really?  Well I feel the
same about you and that wooden horse you ride!’

Fabian sighed quietly as Mistral
and Phantom argued all the way across the meadow. 

‘You know what Phantom!’ 
Mistral finally snapped.  ‘You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever had
the misfortune to meet.  I’m going hunting and I’m going to pretend
everything I kill is you!’  abruptly kicking Cirrus into a reckless gallop
she thundered off into the forest.  Prospero immediately gave a joyous
bark and bounded after her.

Fabian didn’t comment and pulled
Spirit around to pick up the trail that would lead them to his house.

‘I can go after her if you wish.’
 Phantasm offered quietly.

Fabian shook his head, looking
unconcerned, ‘Thank you but that won’t be necessary.  Prospero is with her
and besides, I think that she will probably feel better once she has killed
something – other that your brother that is.’

Phantasm raised his eyebrows in
silent agreement and dropped back to ride single file along the trail behind
Fabian. 

They had reached Fabian’s house
and stabled their horses before Mistral returned.  She cantered a blowing
Cirrus into the yard and threw herself from the saddle, her face glowing from
the hard ride.

‘Good hunt?’  Fabian
enquired politely and began to help her unsaddle Cirrus.

‘Very satisfying.’  Mistral
replied shortly and then sighed, catching the expression on his face.  ‘Sorry
Fabian, I know you want me and Phantom to get on for the sake of this Contract
but I’m not sure I can.  He’s just so
smug
all the time!  And
so rude!  Calling Cirrus a brute –’

Fabian listened patiently while
Mistral fumed about Phantom until Prospero arrived, dragging the body of a
small wild boar into the yard.

‘Oh good boy!  You got it in
the end did you?’  Mistral cried, rushing over and fussing him
enthusiastically.

Fabian led Cirrus into the
stableblock while Mistral persuaded Prospero to let go of his trophy, ‘How can
I cook it if it’s still in your mouth?’  she asked reasonably.  He
whined and reluctantly released his grip on the boar’s neck.

‘Allow me.’  

Fabian deftly hauled the boar up
onto his shoulder to carry it up the stairs to the house.  Mistral
followed, still talking about the hunt.

‘Prospero was fantastic!  He
flushed a boar and a hind – but I didn’t think I’d be able to get the hind back
here so we went for the boar –’

Dropping the boar onto the
kitchen table, Fabian turned to look at her.  The twins were busy lighting
the stove and talking quietly between themselves.

‘Do you promise me you will make
an effort to get on with your brother?’  Fabian’s voice was soft but his
eyes gleamed with a hard light. 

Mistral glared mutinously and
opened her mouth to argue but Fabian cut her off with a curt gesture.

‘As I said before, this Contract
is of vital importance.  You will find out why tonight when I go through
the exact details, but I need to know that you will not jeopardise everything
at the Council meeting over some petty argument with Phantom!’

Mistral was immediately
chastened.  It would be just like her to allow her temper to flare and
embarrass Fabian at the Council.  He was after all a De Winter, a name
that commanded respect in the sorcering world and gave him a high standing at
the Council.  Neither of which he particularly cared about but Mistral was
proud of the way he set aside his personal feelings to fulfil his obligations
to the Isle.  

‘I’m sorry.’ she muttered. 
‘I promise to try,’

He lifted a hand and touched her
cheek, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, ‘Thank you.’

Mistral was suddenly brisk,
‘Right!  Dinner!  Does boar casserole suit everyone ?  Only I
don’t think I’ve got enough time to go and hunt something else –’

‘Yes please!’  the twins
chorused from the armchairs they were elegantly reclining in.

Mistral sat at the kitchen table
quietly skinning and jointing the boar while she listened to Fabian outlining
the details of the Contract.  Prospero sat by her side, silently watching
her every move.  She rewarded him with the occasional chunk of meat, if
only to save her trousers from being soaked with drool.

‘You know, of course, about the
history of the families of Rochforte and Noble?’  Fabian began. 

The twins nodded and Fabian
glanced over at Mistral.

She nodded, ‘The twins told me
the story.’

‘Good, so then you are aware that
apart from Putreo there are no full-blooded representatives of the Rochforte
line living on the Isle?’

They all nodded.

‘Well, the delegation of French
sorcerers we are meeting tomorrow are, in fact, Rochfortes.  The party
will be led by none other than Antoine Rochforte, the direct descendant of
Alexandre and the current head of the tribe of Rochforte.  He has sought a
meeting with Eximius with a view to the Rochfortes being given a home on the
Isle.  It seems they are finding life in the changing world no longer as
accommodating as it once was.’

‘Mage De Winter.’  Phantasm
looked up, his expression uncertain.  ‘I feel obliged to question what is
obvious and mean no disrespect when I do.  You are of Noble descent,
surely Mage Grapple fears what your true intentions are in meeting the
Rochforte party with a group of Ri warriors?’

A bleak smile flittered across
Fabian’s face, ‘I shall escort them safely, not kill them.  I have no
quarrel with the tribe of Rochforte.  Blood feuds are continued through
the centuries by ignorance and misplaced pride.’

Phantasm frowned and hesitated
before speaking again, ‘Of course, however –’

Fabian cut him off curtly, ‘You
are, I assume, referring to my acrimonious relationship with Putreo?’

Phantasm nodded wordlessly.

‘That has nothing to do with
blood.’

Mistral swore under her breath as
the knife she was using to joint the boar slipped and cut her finger.  She
sucked at the blood, fighting the jealousy that flared.  Was Fabian still
angry with Putreo for introducing Mage Grapple’s sister, Emiror, to the man she
married when he knew full well Fabian was in love with her?  

‘Or any matter other that you may
think.’  Fabian continued, giving her a swift look.  ‘Putreo is a
corrupt and self-serving coward that has used his position in the Council to
line his pockets at the expense of the naïve.’

The twins shared a look of
consternation.  They had no idea who or what Fabian was referring
to. 

‘However, that is a separate
matter entirely and not one for this evening.’  Fabian drew a deep breath
and continued in a calmer voice.  ‘Putreo will not want the tribe of
Rochforte to take up residence on the Isle.  He enjoys a certain notoriety
and status through being the only pure blood Rochforte.  Despite changing
his name to avoid the initial backlash he is quite happy to flaunt his blood
status to achieve whatever he wants.  If Antoine successfully presents his
case to Eximius then he will instantly outrank Putreo at the Council. 
Putreo will not take kindly to being demoted to a lesser position in the
Council by default. 

‘Eximius is aware of this, which
is why he has asked me to greet Antoine’s party.  He knows that Putreo
would try to send a Contracted assassin to intercept the party and erase the
threat to his position whereas I, obviously, would not accept such a Contract.’

Mistral frowned while she began
roughly chopping vegetables, throwing them into a large pot with the
meat.  If Putreo was as devious as Fabian said he was then surely –

‘Of course, we must assume that
there will be a Contract on Antoine’s life anyway.’  Fabian said quietly.
and Mistral looked over to see the twins nodding.  They had apparently
been thinking the same as her.  ‘Which means we must be prepared for a
fight.’

The twins shared a tense look and
Mistral smiled to herself.

‘This meeting is of vital
importance to the continued safety of every living creature on the Isle.  Antoine
is a Rochforte, the leader of the tribe that left by choice at the start of
Eximius’ reign.  Please note the importance of that fact.  Should
Eximius actually
deny
his tribe sanctuary on the Isle then that would be
a different matter entirely.  A war would no doubt erupt that could
threaten the very existence of the Isle.’

‘So, our role is to ensure that
Antoine Rochforte agrees to the Council’s terms?’  Phantasm asked with a
frown.

‘Yes.  However that is a
personal favour to Eximius and is therefore –’

‘Unofficial.  We
understand.’  Phantasm finished quietly.

‘Good.  Then you also
understand that the official Contract is only for the safe arrival of the
delegates.’

The twins shared a look then
nodded as one.

‘We understand.’

Mistral slid from her chair and
quietly carried the full pot over to the stove.  Setting it down carefully
she walked back to the kitchen and began tidying up.  She was glad to be
distanced from the discussion by her tasks in the kitchen.  It provided
her with the opportunity to think freely without fear of the results showing on
her face.  She didn’t care if the Rochfortes were on the Isle or
not.  Admittedly, an open war between an influential tribe like the
Rochfortes and the Isle would be fairly disastrous to the continuation of their
secret existence but the prospect of going to war did not daunt her. 
Mistral was strangely curious to meet the sinister sounding Count Putreo and
felt her lip curl in disdain at the thought.  She could not help but be
contemptuous towards the unknown Mage, feeling as she did an instinctive
affinity for the way Fabian felt towards him. 

‘Do you consider that the
Rochforte tribe taking up residence on the Isle would be a beneficial
move?’ 

Fabian smiled at Phantasm’s
carefully worded question, ‘I believe that no matter what blood runs through
their veins, a Mage has the right to petition for sanctuary here.  It is
after all, what the Isle was created to provide; a safe haven for us all to
live on away from the persecution of the human world.  However, I will
abide by whatever decision Eximius makes.  Despite my differences with him
I trust him to do what is best for the Isle, not just for himself.’

‘Will having the Rochfortes on
the Isle make his life more difficult?’

‘Without a shadow of doubt. 
The Rochfortes will not accept his authority easily.  Eximius will have a
trying time balancing the needs of the Isle against the selfish wants of the
Rochforte tribe.’

Mistral finished wiping the table
clean and began to lay plates, moving quietly around the small kitchen while
she listened to them talk.  Prospero stretched out beside the dresser, his
pale eyes fixed hungrily on the pot of boar casserole simmering on the
stove.  Stepping over him to reach for a jug of wine and four goblets,
Mistral carried them over and set them on the low table by the fire. 
Fabian glanced up at her and smiled, laying an arm across the back of the sofa
and inviting her to sit next to him.  Mistral sank against his side and
felt a wave of contentment wash through her.  She was out of the Valley on
a Contract with Fabian; this was a taste of how their future was going to be.