The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (36 page)

She left the Valley and burst out
into the meadows, digging her heels into the horse and asking for more, needing
the oblivion of reckless speed to erase the anger and hurt of Xerxes’
words.  The gelding was quick and responded easily to her touch but he was
not the powerfully built, wilful creature that Cirrus was and offered her no
challenge.  Mistral quickly found there was little thrill in mastering a
horse that would readily submit to her every whim and headed him towards the
treeline in the hope of finding a suitable prey to hunt.

She rode deeper into the forests,
ignorant to the beauty of the spring buds and the sunlight filtering through
the branches.  She neither cared nor noticed the direction she was taking,
her mind too full of angry words she wished she’d said to Xerxes. 
Selfish?  Her?  Hadn’t she treated his back when Cain had refused? 
Hadn’t she, a woman, been unoffended by his mistreatment of the village
girls?  He had been married at least twice and freely admitted that it
meant nothing to him.  He no more understood how she felt about Fabian
than he did the concept of monogamy!

Mistral wished that she’d met
with the twins before running into the others and found herself directing her
anger at them instead.  If they hadn’t been so damned elusive she would’ve
been able to explain herself to them.  They would have taken her side,
eventually – and then she wouldn’t have been so completely outnumbered by her
brothers.

Brothers!

She spat angrily on the
ground. 

They were no brothers of hers.

A heavy rustling on her right
made her rein the horse in tightly.  She held her breath, eyes wide and
ears straining as she slowly reached round to grab her dagger from the back of
her belt.  Hopefully it would be something that would put up a bit of a
fight.  A sabre-tusked boar maybe …

The rustling increased and
something heavy moved through the undergrowth towards her.  Mistral tensed
expectantly, ready to leap from the horse and throw herself at whatever
appeared but was totally unprepared for what came into view.  Her mouth
dropped open in amazement as Count Putreo Darke rode through the thick shrubs and
reined to a halt.  Dusting leaf debris from his robes he gazed
disdainfully at her and called out to someone behind him.

‘Is that her?’  he enquired
in a bored sounding voice.  ‘These dirty half-breed warriors all look the
same to me.’

A drawling voice Mistral had
sincerely hoped never to hear again spoke after letting out an irritating
high-pitched peal of laughter.

‘Looking delightfully dishevelled
and scowling?  Oh yes.  That’s her.’  Golden urged a fine grey
mare through the undergrowth and halted beside her husband, her eyes gleaming
maliciously.

Putreo abruptly turned in the
saddle and called loudly, ‘Columbine.  If you could please.’

Shocked into a statue-like state
by the bizarre arrival of a councillor and his wife in the middle of the
forests, the sound of Columbine’s name was an abrupt wake-up call to
Mistral.  She snarled, locking gazes with Columbine’s malevolent black
stare then felt a sudden stabbing sensation in her arm.  With a gasp of
pain Mistral stared down to see a small crossbow bolt sticking out of her
forearm.

‘What the –?’ she managed to
exclaim before a wave of blackness crashed over her and she fell heavily to the
ground, already unconscious.

The twins strolled into The Cloak
and Dagger to find the others playing cards in virtual silence.  They
continued on to the bar and leaned against it casually while they waited to be
served. 

‘Cheerful looking today aren’t
they?’  Phantom remarked to his brother.

‘Very.  Did you hear
Prospero whining in Mistral’s room when we went past?’

‘Was that what it was?  I
never like to listen too closely at her door these days.’

‘Bad habit brother.’ 
Phantasm chided in a low voice.  ‘But it does mean that she’s back in the
Valley, I wonder if they have faces like that because they’ve seen her.’

‘Let’s find out.’  Phantom
whispered eagerly.

‘Let’s.  Xerxes?’ 
Phantasm called across the bar.

‘What is it Phantasm?  Only
I’m busy losing my last Contract to that cheating hob you see before me.’

‘I am sorry to hear that, but
have you seen Mistral today?’ 

‘Don’t mention her to me.’ 
Xerxes growled, his eyes flashing dangerously.

‘I’ll take that as a yes
then.  Where is she now?’

‘Don’t know, don’t care.’ 
Xerxes stated flatly.

‘Well maybe you should Xerxes,
because I am also looking for her.’

They all turned to see Leo Sphinx
stood in the doorway.

‘Sorry Master Sphinx but I really
can’t help you.  She was here, then she went.’

‘Where?’  Leo demanded
coldly.

Xerxes shrugged, ‘No idea.’

‘You could try the stables.’
 Saul suggested quietly.  ‘She might have wanted to go out for a
ride.  She was a bit angry.’

‘And why, exactly, would she be
angry?’ 

 Xerxes kept his eyes fixed
on his hand of cards, ‘Not my problem.’ 

‘It is now!  Answer me
Xerxes or face my wrath!’ 

Xerxes lifted his gaze to meet
Leo’s furious glare, his muttered admittance reluctant, ‘We argued.’

‘About?’ 

‘Events that really have no
bearing on her training.’

‘That is for me to decide!’

‘It’s not for me to say.’
 Xerxes scowled.  ‘Mage De Winter will tell you.’

Leo glared at Xerxes in furious
silence before abruptly turning on his heel and storming from the tavern,
slamming the door loudly behind him.

‘That’s twice that’s happened
today.  At this rate Floris is going to need a new door.’  Cain
remarked mildly.

‘Nice to see that even when she’s
not around Mistral can still give Leo palpitations.’  Brutus said with a
smile.

‘She can steer clear of the
Valley as long as I’m in it.’  Xerxes growled.

The twins retrieved their drinks
from Floris and walked over to join them.

‘I assume you had words about
yesterday?’  Phantasm asked Xerxes in a casual voice.

‘Just a few.’  Xerxes shook
his head disgustedly, keeping his gaze fixed on his cards. 

‘Where have you been
anyway?’  Cain asked with a frown.  ‘I had to report to His Holiness the
Leo on my own because I couldn’t find you, which you owe me for by the way
since I had to lie as to why Mistral hadn’t come back with us.  I’m a very
good liar, but our esteemed Captain seems to have some built in lie detector,
plus he’s very touchy about her and Mage De Winter isn’t he?  He
questioned me for ages!’

‘So sorry.’  Phantasm
apologised lightly.  ‘But we really did have to see the Divinus.’

They all looked at the twins with
undisguised surprise. 

‘What about?’  Brutus asked
curiously. 

‘Mistral.’ 

Xerxes snorted and returned his
attention to the card game.  There was a brief silence while they
continued to play until Saul suddenly looked up, his face carefully
expressionless.

‘What did he say?’ 

‘Thank you Saul, for showing the concern
due to a sister who has just threatened to take her own life.’

Cain and Xerxes shared scornful
looks and shook their heads.

‘She’s just playing up, as
usual.’  Xerxes muttered. 

‘Oh, and that’s so like Mistral
isn’t it?  To want to die by her own hand, not by trying to kill something
twice her size?’

Xerxes looked slightly
uncomfortable, ‘Well, she has just got married.  And we all know about the
ban on her love life, it’s bound to be having some effect on her.’

‘Love life, yes, interesting you
should mention that.  Did you know that the Mage De Winter and Mistral are
actually Bonded?’  Phantasm asked lightly.

There was a long pause while they
all stared at him incredulously.

‘Bonded?’  Cain echoed
disbelievingly.  ‘As in souls joining eternally?  Cannot be separated
on pain of death, and all that other mad sounding stuff?’

Phantasm nodded calmly.

Brutus blew his cheeks out, ‘Well
it certainly explains why she behaves like she does around him!’ 

‘And why he lets her get away
with such outrageous behaviour.’  Xerxes agreed with a frown.

‘And why she nearly died last
year from pining for him.’  Saul said quietly, not lifting his eyes from
his cards.

‘Oh, I’d forgotten she went a bit
strange last year!’

‘Was that because of him?  I
thought she’d just picked up a foreign illness on that Desert Lands Contract.’

‘Why didn’t she say?’  Cain
demanded.

‘Why should she have to?’ 
Phantasm retorted. 

‘Because we’re her
brothers!’ 

‘Are you really?’  Phantasm
asked softly, his green gaze boring into Cain’s angry glare.  ‘You were a
bit quick to judge her yesterday.’

‘And you weren’t?’

‘I admit I was angry, but I soon
realised that she wouldn’t normally behave in that way.  Mistral will
always fight for what she wants.’

‘I can’t tell you how many bets
I’ve won on that girl’s temper.’  Xerxes said with a fond smile.

‘Thank you for that constructive
comment Xerxes, I’ll be sure to pass your gratitude on.  But what I was
trying to say is that Mistral will always fight and yesterday, well –’

‘She wanted to die.’  Cain
finished quietly.  ‘You’re right, I was so angry with her I didn’t realise
that it was completely unlike her.  If she’d ranted and torn the house
apart or even grabbed her poisoned Mage and shaken him to death for daring to
die on her it would have been more like her than to try and steal poison from
my bag.’

The door banged open to reveal
the dark, lean figure of Fabian in the doorway. 

‘Tell me what you said to
Mistral.’

‘Mage De Winter!  We may
have, er, upset her a little.’  Cain began quickly.  ‘A slight
misunderstanding about the true nature of her – well, that is to say, your
situation led to a few harsh words and –’

‘I am grateful to you for saving
my life Cain.  However, my patience is fairly thin so please get to the
point.’

‘Sorry.  We fell out – about
yesterday – and she stormed off.  We really have no idea where she went.’

Fabian crossed the tavern in four
long strides and towered over the warriors, his pale face rigid with barely
controlled rage.

‘Tell me what was said!’ 

A heavy silence fell.

‘I may have called her stupid …
and selfish.’  Xerxes finally muttered.

‘And how did she respond?’

‘Er, she said I was no brother of
hers and ... and then she left.’

‘She normally takes Cirrus out
when she’s that angry.’  Saul ventured, not quite meeting Fabian’s eyes.

‘Thank you, I never realised.’
 Fabian responded in a cold voice.  ‘However Cirrus is in his
stall.  I have all of her weapons and her dog was shut in her room.’

‘So she’s still in the
Valley.  She’ll come back when she’s got over her sulk.’  Xerxes gave
a shrug.  ‘I really can’t see what all the fuss is about.’

The twins shrank back slightly as
Fabian seemed to swell with rage and even Xerxes realised he had overstepped
the mark when he glanced up to meet Fabian’s flat black stare.

‘I only meant that she can’t have
gone far!’  he amended quickly.

‘Oh, but she has.  Unarmed
and without her dog.  Clovis tells me that she took one of the Ri herd and
left two hours ago!’

Brutus gave a relieved shake of
his head, ‘That’s not long for Mistral.  She’ll have gone hunting.’ 

‘With no weapons?’

‘Very Mistral.’  Brutus
nodded.  ‘Especially if she was angry.’

Fabian drew in a deep breath and
let it out slowly, ‘I have no idea why she is so loyal to you all when you
obviously have no care for her life at all.’

‘I –’ Cain began but Fabian cut
him off with a curt gesture.

‘Are you aware Antoine Rochforte
was killed with Mistral’s throwing knife?’

They shared perplexed looks and
nodded uncertainly. 

‘And with this knowledge did you
pause to consider the possibility of the cousins seeking revenge for the loss
of the head of their tribe?’

Xerxes frowned, ‘But the
Rochfortes were repelled at Holdridge.’ 

‘Maybe so, but neither Christophe
nor Etienne Rochforte were amongst the slain or the captured.  The Council
have secured all four sailing ships and still not located them.  We can
only assume that they, and however many soldiers they took with them, are now
loose on the Isle.’

A heavy silence fell, full of
shared grimaces.  Only Mistral could go hunting with no weapons, no dog
and not on her usual fiery, powerful horse when a group of Rochfortes bent of
avenging their dead comrade were after her blood.

‘Oh dear.’  Phantom sighed
quietly.

Mistral woke with a groan. 
Her head was pounding and her throat felt like she had drunk a cup of
sand.  She tried to open her eyes but the room span sickeningly. 
Retching, she rolled onto her side to realise that her hands were tied behind
her back and her ankles were bound together.

After a few moments she became
aware of the coldness of the stone floor beneath her.  She opened her eyes
a fraction but couldn’t see anything in the pitch black.  She drew in
another breath and tasted damp and mould on her tongue.  She was in a
cellar.  She frowned and tried to recall how she had ended up there and
groaned as another wave of nausea washed over her.  Breathing slowly
through her mouth, Mistral waited until it passed then used her elbows to push
herself into a sitting position.  Closing her eyes against another attack
of vertigo, she leaned back against the wall behind her and forced her drugged
mind to work.

She could remember being furious
with Xerxes and borrowing a Ri horse … then riding out of the Valley … the
forests, she could remember riding through the forests and then … then there
was nothing, only a big blank haze. 

The creak of a door opening made
her look up.  In the faint light of a single candle Mistral saw the robed
figure of Count Putreo Darke entering the cellar.

‘Ah, finally.  I was
beginning to worry that my bodyguard had overdone the mix.  She does
rather want to kill you and I feared that she might have given in to
temptation.’

Mistral stared at him. 
Putreo!  The image of him and Golden in the forests came flooding back to
her followed by the ugly features of the one person that refused to leave her
be.

‘Columbine!’ 

‘Yes.  A rather an
unattractive creature I will admit, but most effective.  And one who seems
to know you well.  She swore you would be easy to find.  I was rather
hoping we would have to kill De Winter to get to you, but instead you
obligingly delivered yourself to us.  It was,’ he paused and sighed
theatrically, ‘almost too easy.’

Mistral felt her racing heart
falter.  She was unarmed, bound hand and foot and didn’t even know where
she was.  She watched warily while Putreo closed the door and turned to
scrutinise her closely.

‘If only I had known how valuable
you were going to be when De Winter bought you to the Council I could have been
saved all this ... trouble.’  Putreo cast a disdainful glance around the
damp cellar.  ‘However,’ he looked at her again, ‘it seems you have
suddenly become a most strategic creature to own.’

Mistral said nothing but gave him
a look of undisguised loathing. 

‘Oh yes.  I can see that you
have spirit.’  Putreo murmured, watching her face carefully.  ‘But
that can be broken, and then we will use your Sight to help the Rochfortes take
their rightful place as the ruling power on the Isle.’

Mistral stared at him in
astonishment, ‘You’re insane!  I can’t!  I don’t have the
Sight!  And even if I did, I would never do that!’

Putreo sighed softly, ‘Oh but you
will, however, you probably won’t be able to realise it by the time you
do.  Minds can stand to be torn apart in ways the body cannot.  We
will simply have to destroy your will then free your gift, gouge from your mind
if you will.  Consider it an involuntary liberation.’

Mistral forced a dry swallow and
stared at him while he casually brushed a speck of dirt from his long robes.

‘Of course, the cousins wanted
you dead until I informed them of your rather unusual abilities.  They
have since come to realise that you would be of more use to them still
breathing.’

Putreo tilted his head on one
side and regarded her dispassionately, ‘Etienne has some rather archaic ideas
about how to persuade you to release your gift, but I do not think that you are
the type to be afraid of physical violence.  No,’ he mused more softly,
his eye falling on her left hand.  ‘I think something subtle will be
effective.  Something closer to the heart.’

Mistral realised with a burst of
horror that Putreo had seen her wedding ring.  She bit down hard on the
inside of her lips to stop herself from begging him not to hurt Fabian. 

‘Ah, I was right.’  Putreo
gave a satisfied smile.  ‘I can see that hurting De Winter rather than you
would be more effective.’  

Mistral jerked her gaze up to
meet his lazy look and snarled, ‘I’d like to see you try!’ 

‘Oh, and you will,’ he murmured
coldly.  ‘Over and over again.’

Mistral screamed at him,
incandescent with helpless rage as she struggled against the ropes binding her
wrists.  Laughing softly, Putreo turned and walked from the cellar,
closing the door quietly behind him and leaving her shouting uselessly in the
dark.

Breathing hard Mistral began to
force her wrists to move, trying to loosen the ropes biting into her wrists,
twisting furiously them until she felt blood running over her hands, but the
ropes remained tightly knotted.  She had no idea how long she was left
alone in the dark cellar.  She cursed and struggled futilely against her
bonds, shouting abuse at the closed door and demanding to be released.

‘I will kill you!’  she
finally screamed at the closed door.

A tinkling peal of laughter rang
out from the other side.  Mistral froze, listening to the protesting rasp
of the door being unbolted.

‘Oh no, you won’t, Mistral. 
However, I rather think you will want to soon.’  Golden smiled and swayed
into the room carrying a candle before her. 

She closed the door behind her
and turned to look at Mistral, the dim glow of the candle throwing light over
the sculptured planes of her perfect face.

‘Missed me?’  she enquired,
arching a perfect eyebrow.

Baring her teeth in a vicious
snarl Mistral began to struggle against her ropes again, feeling the sharp
sting of the wounds rubbing against the harsh rope and the trickle of fresh
blood. 

Golden suddenly strode forwards
and crouched down in front of Mistral, so close that she could see the
carefully applied make-up around her blue eyes and smell the heavy scent of her
perfume.

‘Do you know how many nights I
had to lie in his bed listening to him talk about how your gift would change
everything?’ 

Golden’s perfect face contorted into
a mask of bitter rage as she glared into Mistral’s eyes and continued to speak
in a harsh whisper. 

‘I detested you!  Leo
indulged your foul moods and trouble-making while you continued to shun your
gift!  Wanting so much to be a warrior while all the time you had at your
fingertips a gift that would guarantee you power and wealth!  Look at
you!  You can’t even be bothered to use it now to save your own
life!  You’re pathetic!’

Golden spat on the floor at
Mistral’s feet and swept from her, pacing agitatedly around the cellar.

‘I even used to wonder why he
didn’t take you for his own!  Oh, I know I’m more beautiful than you.’ she
paused and stared contemptuously down at Mistral.  ‘But with Leo it was
always about the
power
… and when he found out about you and that
tormented Mage you adore so much he went crazy!  Shouting and ranting
about De Winter meddling in his plans for the future, how he could ruin
everything with his passion!

‘When Leo explained to me that
you two couldn’t be together or your gift would vanish in a puff of smoke along
with your precious innocence, how I laughed!  You were to be denied the
one thing that gave me more power than you!  But it obsessed him.  He
became paranoid that you were too headstrong.’

Golden paused and stared at
Mistral, her eyes glittering with hatred, ‘I was lowered to becoming jealous of
you!  You!  With that lovesick yarthkin lingering in the shadows and
a tortured Mage burning with unfulfilled desire!  Because of you I made
that one mistake that Leo’s damnable pride wouldn’t allow him to forgive …
despite my best efforts.’

Golden suddenly threw back her
head and laughed; a discordant peal of notes that set Mistral’s teeth on edge.

‘But look at me now!’ she titled
her chin haughtily.  ‘A
Countess
!  I suppose I should really
thank you for driving me to make that stupid mistake.  Well, let me show
you how grateful I can be –’

Mistral stared at her silently
and suddenly wondered if Golden was slightly insane.

‘There’s someone I think you’d
like to see.’

Golden’s soft voice was followed
by the door opening.  Mistral’s heart lurched as the familiar tall figure
loped towards her with a welcoming smile and open arms.

‘No!’ 

Mistral’s scream of horror
reverberated off the stone walls of the cellar as Golden stepped forward and
plunged Mistral’s dagger straight into Fabian’s neck.  He fell to his
knees, his velvet eyes fixed on hers with a look of such beseeching agony that
Mistral cried out again.

‘Please!  No!’ she sobbed
desperately and crawled awkwardly towards his fallen body, staring into his
eyes to see the light fade from them, leaving them flat and lifeless.

‘I will kill you!’  Mistral
screamed into Golden’s laughing face while she knelt over Fabian’s dead body.

‘Yes, I think you really would,
so I suppose I should remove any temptation.’  Golden said quietly and
quickly bent to pull Mistral’s dagger from Fabian’s neck.  Instantly the
figure on the floor shimmered and faded, leaving nothing behind but the
tell-tale scent of ozone in the air.

Mistral gasped in relief. 
It had just been an illusion.  But her relief quickly turned to dread.
 She stared in horrified silence at Golden, knowing how they were going to
try and break her will.

Time did not exist in the dimly
lit cellar while Mistral watched an endless procession of Fabians enter the
room to die by Golden’s hand in a variety of heart-wrenching ways.  Even
though she knew that each one was only an image conjured to fool her she could
not help but react.  Her heart leapt for joy every time the door opened to
reveal him standing there, only to be overwhelmed with sickening fear at the
knowledge of what was about to happen.

She shouted useless warnings to
each of the Fabians until her throat was ragged and her voice hoarse.  She
cursed and swore at Golden and made solemn promises to end her life to which
Golden simply laughed and killed the man she loved before her eyes.

‘I’m bored of this.  Your
Mage is too easy to kill.  I think it’s time I tried something different.’
 Golden declared and turned to the door.  ‘Come in.’ she smiled
seductively at Fabian when he entered through the door, her eyes on Mistral to
watch her reaction.  ‘My love.’

Mistral screamed in fury when
Golden kissed Fabian then began to sob when he returned her embrace. 
Golden threw Mistral a wink and began to unbutton Fabian’s shirt, revealing the
skin that Mistral was forbidden to touch.

‘No scar, there’s no scar, no
scar, no scar –’

Mistral repeated the refrain
under her breath when Golden dropped Fabian’s shirt to the floor and ran her
hands across the bare torso of her Mage.  Screwing her eyes up tightly to
shut out the image before she repeated the words to herself, forcing her mind
to reject the fallacy and embrace the truth.  It was an illusion, no
more.  The fresh scar of the arrow wound that Mistral had stitched on
Fabian’s shoulder was absent from the figure before her.

‘Well it’s no fun if you’re not
going to watch.’  Golden sighed.  ‘I suppose I shall just have to
kill this one as well then shall I?’

After that Mistral refused to open
her eyes so Golden began to order the Fabians to talk to her, telling her that
they no longer loved her and were leaving her here to die, cold and alone in a
cellar.

Mistral tried to block out the
false words his velvet voice whispered in her ear but her hands were tied and
she couldn’t cover her ears.  Tears streamed silently down her face as she
was forced to listen to his rejection and betrayal of her love over and over
again.  She tried to focus on other sounds in the cellar, the scratching
of mice in the dark corners and Golden’s ringing laughter, but his voice cut
though them all, carving their cruel words deep into her soul.

‘She is conscious now,’ the
Divinus sighed softly.

Leo and Fabian spun to face the fragile
figure sat on the throne-like wooden chair in the centre of the room. 

‘Where is she?’  Fabian
demanded in a hard voice.

‘Fabian!’  Leo warned
sharply.

‘She is in blackness –’

‘What is she thinking?’ 
Fabian demanded urgently, his hands balled into tense fists by his side.

‘She is confused … the floor is
cold and hard … damp … she thinks she is in a cellar –’

‘A cellar!’

‘I will order a search of all of
the homes in the Valley and the villages nearby immediately!’

Leo strode from the room leaving Fabian
alone with the Divinus.

‘What is she thinking now!’ 
Fabian cried and stared desperately into the blind gaze of the Divinus.

‘She is waiting … there is
nothing  … she cannot remember how she came to be there –’

‘Tell me about the room!’ 
Fabian shouted in frustration.

‘She is in blackness.’

‘I know that!  But there
must be something!’ he cried and spun to stare out of the dusty window, staring
unseeingly out at the view across the Valley.

A long silence fell before the
Divinus spoke again. 

‘Someone is there … it is the
Count Putreo Darke.’

Fabian let out a roar of rage and
banged his fists down against the stone window ledge then spun around to face
the Divinus, his eyes blazing with hatred.

‘What is he saying?’ 

‘She is to be a tool for the
Rochfortes to gain power … the Count sees himself in Eximius’ position with her
as his Seer … the Council will be made up of the Rochforte tribe … a single
ruling tribe.’