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

‘Allowing them to see the outcome
of any action they take before committing themselves to a long and costly war.’
 Phantasm murmured.  ‘Yes, that would be very useful.’

‘I think also the potion that
mimics the twins’ gift would be extremely sought after too –’

‘How does that one work? 
Make the drinker really annoying?’  Mistral couldn’t resist interrupting,
smiling lazily at the twins.

‘No Mistral.’ Fabian
sighed.  ‘It gives control over another’s mind.  It is virtually
impossible to tell when someone has been given the Master Potion since there
are no outward signs of being under its influence.  It simply makes the
drinker very receptive to suggestion.  They literally become the puppet of
whoever is telling them what to do.’

Mistral looked faintly
disappointed, ‘Is that all?  I thought the potions would be more about
pain and torture, like that agony inducing potion Malachi has a bottle of in
his room.’

‘The effects are too
obvious.  The illegal potions produce more subtle results and are far
harder to detect.  The more surreptitious the potion, the higher its value
–’

The sounds of drunken laughter
and raised voices abruptly ended their conversation.  The others were
staggering back, hauling a dazed looking Grendel between them.

‘What happened to him?’ 
Mistral asked, looking at Grendel’s battered face in concern.

‘Those damned goblins sneaked up
on him and chucked that weighted net over him again.  They gave him a good
battering with their clubs before we got the little gits off.  I don’t
think they were too pleased about being thrown around like juggling balls
earlier!’  Xerxes grunted and shrugged Grendel’s heavy arm off his
shoulder.

‘Will he be all right?’  Mistral
tilted her head to study Grendel’s unconscious body slumped on the floor. 
‘Only, we’ve got the harpy hunt in the morning –’

‘He’ll be fine.’  Brutus
responded airily, nudging the comatose Grendel with his foot.  ‘But
talking of the hunt, we need to work out a plan.’

‘Oh, not more talk!’
 Mistral complained and yawned widely.  ‘I’m fed up with talk.’

‘Lightweight.’  Cain teased,
throwing himself down beside the fire and yawning himself. 

‘Takes one to know one.’  

Mistral closed her eyes and
shifted into a more comfortable position against Fabian’s side whilst her
brothers settled themselves beside the fire and began to recount the events of
the night.  She smiled sleepily while she listened to them, their murmured
conversations and muted laughs blending into pleasant background noise. 
Sighing happily she opened her eyes to look up at the star-filled sky, trying
to recall the names of the various constellations that Imperato had described
to her earlier.  The Plough.  She could easily see that one. 
Pegasus.  She smiled at that one, thinking of the centaurs.  Orion …
she yawned, suddenly unable to remember the names of the others.  The
bright stars blurred before her tired eyes so she closed them again let her
mind drift.  Lulled by the reassuring weight of Prospero by her side and
the closeness of Fabian, she slipped into a deep sleep.

The persistent sound of several
voices all speaking at once woke Mistral the next morning.  She frowned in
annoyance and pulled Fabian’s cloak tighter, clinging to the last vestiges of
sleep until the repeated mention of her name forced her mind to surface. 
She opened her eyes a fraction, instantly meeting the bright green gaze of
Phantom staring impatiently at her.

‘Finally!  We’ve been up for
hours!  Samson and the other warriors have just turned up to work out a
plan for the hunt and I don’t want to miss out, so please get up!’ 

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ 
she muttered, struggling to throw off Fabian’s heavy cloak and release her feet
from beneath Prospero’s prone body. 

‘Er – I tried!  But you
sleep like the dead!’

‘I feel like the dead this
morning.’  Mistral yawned and stretched, running her fingers through her
tangled hair.  ‘I think I need a cold swim to wake up –’ 

‘No time for that.’  Phantom
said briskly.  ‘We bought you a bucket of water instead.  It’s in the
tent.’ 

‘Thanks.  I think.’
 Mistral yawned again and stumbled sleepily towards the tent entrance.

Mistral emerged a short while
later with clean wet hair and a change of clothes.  She smiled at
Phantom’s frown of annoyance and flicked a speck of dirt from her old, looser
trousers, just to irritate him further. 

‘Oh, really!  Did you have
to put those tatty old rags on again?’

Mistral stuck her tongue out at
him and looked over to see all of the Ri warriors gathered around the campfire,
talking in excited voices.  Fabian and Samson were sat together holding a
quietly spoken conversation of their own and didn’t notice her approach but
Xerxes looked up and grinned. 

‘Ah, at last!  Sleeping
Beauty awakes.’

Mistral pulled a face at him and
sat down quickly beside to Fabian. 

‘Perhaps now we can get on with
planning this morning’s hunt?’  Xerxes reached into his saddlebag for the
event details.

‘Good morning.’  Fabian
passed her some bread and cold meat.  ‘Sleep well?’

‘Er, yes … thanks.’  Mistral
quickly took the food he offered and bowed her head to eat, embarrassed by the
fact that everyone had obviously noticed her deeply comatose state.  She
hoped that she hadn’t started talking in her sleep again too.  Just
recently her dreams had taken a turn that definitely wasn’t for public airing.

‘Right, harpy hunt!  Here we
go.’  Xerxes announced in a brisk voice.  ‘It’s a chase through The
Emerald Forests!  Ah, that brings back memories –’

‘Let’s chuck a couple of those
goblins into the quota just for old times’ sake.’  Cain suggested with a
grin.

‘Might be difficult, there’s not
many of them left after Grendel had a go at them last night.’

‘Filthy maggots.’  Grendel
rubbed his bruised face while the other warriors laughed.

‘I know you are not going to be
happy about this Mistral.’  Fabian began under the cover of the laughter
about Grendel’s fight with the goblins. 

Mistral sighed and threw the rest
of her bread to Prospero.  She had been wondering how long it would take
Fabian to try and ban her from the hunting event too.

‘But I am concerned that today’s
hunt will provide Columbine with the perfect opportunity to attack again. 
I am sure that she will have been hiding out in The Emerald Forests and biding
her time for this event.  I think it would be better if you were to remain
behind.’

Before she could reply Samson
leaned over, pitching his voice so that only Fabian and Mistral could hear.

‘I apologise for interrupting
brother, and I appreciate your concerns, but perhaps allowing Mistral to go on
the hunt would actually serve your purpose better.’

Fabian regarded him coldly, ‘Are
you suggesting using my wife as bait for Columbine?’

Samson nodded, meeting Fabian’s
black stare evenly, ‘It’s a perfect opportunity to be rid of Columbine. 
We’re well prepared and Mistral will be safe in a hunting party of warriors.’

Fabian’s eyes flicked over to
Saul, ‘I am not sure that her being with Ri will be enough to satisfy me
today.’

Samson followed Fabian’s glance,
‘You mistrust the yarthkin?’

‘He covets what he has no right
to.’

Mistral clenched her fists,
mashing the remains of bread between her fingers. When Fabian talked about like
a possession it always infuriated her.  She fought the urge to get up and
walk away, determined not to cause a scene. 

Samson frowned, ‘Well, in that
case perhaps we should speak with Bryden.  If he knew the full story he
might be persuaded to allow you to join the hunt.’ 

‘Bryden is not interested in what
he perceives to be essentially a Mage quarrel.’  Fabian shook his head
angrily.  ‘He has made it perfectly clear that my continued presence at
the festival can only be tolerated as an observer.’

‘Fabian, please don’t worry, I’ll
be fine.’  Mistral muttered quickly, noticing that Brutus and the twins
had started listening in.  

Fabian turned to her, his eyes
still angry, ‘No Mistral.  I would prefer you to respect my wishes and
refrain from entering this event.’

Mistral blinked, momentarily
shocked by the curtness of his tone.  Xerxes grinned and quickly bent his
head over the parchment and the twins winced in anticipation of Mistral’s
inevitable explosion.  Another second passed then Mistral’s eyes blazed,
Samson’s jibe about her promising to obey echoed mockingly in her mind. 
Opening her mouth to deliver a seething retort, she suddenly caught Samson’s
amused look and paused.  Fabian had turned down the Contract Samson had
offered him and Phantasm had forgone his rightful place in the winners’ event,
both to protect her.  She sighed, it was time to give a little back. 

‘Fine.  If you really don’t
want me to enter the event, then I won’t.’

Xerxes glanced up from the event
specifications to give the twins an astonished look, ‘Have I missed
something?  Or did she just agree to do something without making a huge
fuss and nearly killing someone?’

Phantom raised his eyebrows in
astonishment but his brother was looking thoughtfully at Fabian.

‘May I suggest a
compromise?’ 

Fabian turned to him with an
expression of polite enquiry, but Mistral could tell he was only humouring her
brother and had already made his decision.

‘Mistral attends the hunting
event with you positioned on the outskirts of The Emerald Forests, close to
where we enter, just in case Columbine appears –’

Fabian cut Phantasm off with an
impatient gesture, ‘I fail to see how I will know if Columbine has appeared
from the outside of the forest!’

‘My brother and I will let you
know.’  

Fabian narrowed his eyes and
regarded him in silence while Phantasm went on to outline his proposal.

‘You won’t violate the
restrictions Chieftain Wolfsnare has set in place by waiting on the
treeline.  If Columbine does make an appearance my brother and I can use
our gift to inform you, enabling you to ride straight to where we are.’

‘That’s actually quite clever.’
 Samson said in a surprised voice.

‘He’s not just a pretty face.’
 Mistral grinned, trying not to look too hopeful.

‘Mage De Winter won’t have been
directly involved in the actual event.  If he enters The Emerald Forests
it will be to protect Mistral from a danger that is totally unrelated to the
hunt and Chieftain Wolfsnare will have no cause to be offended.’  Phantasm
concluded.

‘So long as the other Arcanes see
it that way and don’t decide to shoot an arrow first then ask questions later.’
 Cain added grimly.

Mistral looked at Fabian in
alarm, ‘Maybe it’s not such a good plan after all!’

‘Actually, it’s the only plan.’
 Brutus interrupted in a loud voice.  ‘The rules,’ he continued, stabbing
a finger at the parchment held in his brother’s hand, ‘clearly state that all
contestants must enter two or more events to be eligible for their place in the
final.’

‘What?’  Samson frowned and
leaned over.  ‘I’ve never heard of that before –’

Xerxes squinted down at the
parchment, ‘Neither have I, but he’s right.  Look, it says here that a new
rule has put in place to avoid unfair advantages.’  Xerxes’ eyes moved
quickly over the writing.  ‘Something about preventing tribes from helping
their champion win at their favoured event then resting them ready for the
final.’

Mistral chewed a fingernail
anxiously, ‘But I’ve only competed in the horse race so far.  So, you’re
saying that I actually
have
to go today or I’ll lose my place in the
winner’s event?’ 

‘Looks that way.’  Xerxes
muttered and continued to study the rules.

‘Then it is the perfect
solution.’  Fabian snapped coldly.  ‘You can bow out of this event
and forgo your place in the winner’s event, which is usually unnecessarily
dangerous.’

Mistral stared at him, her face
crestfallen.  Miss out on the hunt, which suddenly included the
tantalising possibility of settling her score with Columbine …
and
forgo
the final?

Xerxes cleared his throat loudly,
‘Not quite so simple I’m afraid, Mage De Winter.’

‘Oh?’  Fabian raised an
eyebrow, the eye beneath dangerously cold. 

‘No.’  Xerxes met his black
look unflinchingly.  ‘This festival is all about tribes. 
We are
tribe
, that’s what I was taught as a child. 
Together we are
strong, alone we are weak
.’  Xerxes rolled his eyes.  ‘Utter
rubbish if you ask me, but Bryden’s all about the tribe and this is his
festival so we must obey his rules, which state quite clearly that if Mistral
forgoes her place in the final, so do her tribe.  Namely, the Ri.’

‘A perfectly acceptable
disappointment.’  Fabian snapped.

‘Maybe to you.  Mage!’ 
Brutus leapt to his feet and began pacing back and forth agitatedly.  ‘But
to the Arcane this festival is a celebration of our identity.  We compete
with pride and sometimes our lives just for the honour of a place in the
final.  My brother and I grew up dreaming of being chosen to represent our
tribe at the festival but we were never chosen because we are
half-breeds
!’ 
Brutus spat the word and paused in his pacing to fix Fabian with a belligerent
look.  ‘You don’t have the right to take this chance away from us!’

Fabian sprang up and leaned
threateningly towards Brutus, his eyes shining with a dangerous light, ‘Pride
is a foolish and wasteful emotion!  It is certainly not worth dying for!’

‘And love?  Isn’t that a
foolish and wasteful emotion too?’  Brutus argued, glaring furiously
back.  ‘You seem quite keen to die for that cause!  Taking a poisoned
arrow at Holdridge for a start –’