The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (74 page)

Xerxes took the lead for the
journey back, setting a steady pace that lasted all day and long into the
night, halting only to rest the horses for a few hours at midnight.  There
was little or no conversation and although they all rolled themselves up in
their cloaks as if to sleep, Mistral was sure it was more to avoid talking than
to actually rest.

Fabian didn’t even bother with
the pretence.  He sat with his sword resting lightly on his bent knees,
looking out over the moonlit grasslands.  Mistral sat with him, staring
pensively up at the stars, those distant insignificant pinpricks of
light.  Was her destiny really written there, shaping a life for her
heedless of whether she wanted it or not?   

During the long ride back Mistral
detached herself from the others, suffering a persistent need for solitude that
she knew wouldn’t be assuaged until the moment she rode for home with
Fabian.  She sustained herself throughout the journey with thoughts of
them being together at their house, sitting beside him on the balcony, hearing
his velvet voice speaking so softly to her and easing the pain in her heart,
making her whole again.

By the evening of their second
day of travelling they had reached the meadows on the outskirts of the
Valley.  Xerxes signalled them into a canter, keen to reach the Valley
before the light failed.  Mistral held Cirrus back, watching them ride
ahead.  The moment had finally come.  It was time for her and Fabian
to leave.  Peace was a short ride away.  Fabian reined in beside her
and turned to speak to her.  His lips parted but the words he spoke were
drowned out by an angry voice.

‘Where do you think you are
going?’

Phantasm had pulled his horse
around and was riding back towards her.

‘Home.’

‘Oh no you are not Mistral. 
You are not running away from this!’

Mistral met his cold look and
felt the inexplicable urge to cry, ‘I can’t ride into the Valley tonight! 
I can’t face it!’

‘You can and you will.’

‘Please, just let me have one
night.’  Mistral pleaded quietly.  ‘I’ll come back tomorrow morning. 
I promise –’

Phantasm cut her off with an
angry sound, ‘No Mistral!  Just how selfish are you?  Saul gave his
life so that you could live and fulfil your destiny!  And you honour his
sacrifice by sneaking off at the first opportunity?  Just when are you
going to face up to your responsibilities?’

‘I didn’t want Saul to die!’

‘You don’t know what you want
Mistral!’

‘I – I –’ Mistral’s tears began
to fall in earnest.

‘Tread lightly Phantasm.’
 Fabian growled softly.

‘This needs to be said Mage De
Winter!’  Phantasm leaned out of his saddle towards Mistral, his angry
face just inches from hers.  ‘Just how much love would it take to make you
whole Mistral?  You have a husband that would lay down his life for you
without hesitation, a brother that already has and a further six who have
proven their unquestionable loyalty to you time and time again!  Yet you
take it all for granted and continue to run from your destiny –’

‘Enough!’

Fabian’s voice was ice, his eyes
a world beyond cold.  Silenced but not cowed, Phantasm threw Mistral a
disgusted look and kicked his horse on sharply.  Mistral watched him ride
away to join the waiting group, his harsh words ringing in her ears, and worse,
in her heart.

‘Mistral?’  Fabian’s voice
dragged Mistral’s anguished gaze round to meet his.  ‘You must return to
the Valley tonight.  It would be disrespectful to the memory of your
fallen brother not to.’

Mistral nodded stiffly.  She
sat unmoving in the saddle while Fabian reached out and took hold of Cirrus’
bridle, leading him beside Spirit back to the Valley, back to everything
Mistral wanted to run from.

They rode together in heavy
silence until the huge North Gate loomed out of the growing darkness, ominous
and black.  Mistral felt a shiver of dread run down her spine when they
passed beneath the watchful gaze of the guard and the warning bell began to
toll.

‘If you have no objections, I am
prepared to speak for us all tonight.’  Phantasm said quietly when they
reached the village square.  

‘Make it good brother.’
 Xerxes muttered, his eyes on the scene before them. 

Drawn by the warning bell, a
crowd had gathered, carrying torches that flooded the square.  A figure
strode across the cobbles, lit by the orange glow of torchlight. 

‘Warriors.  Dismount!’

Leo’s cold voice rang across the
silent square.  He halted in front of them, his icy gaze raking the line,
finally coming to rest upon Saul’s horse.

‘Saul has fallen.’

It was a statement not a
question, and no-one responded.

‘I will see you all in The Cloak and
Dagger shortly, but now I wish to speak with Fabian and –’ his questing gaze
swept across the line of warriors again.

‘Phantasm will join us.’
 Fabian said quietly.

Leo nodded curtly and turned on
his heel, striding away along the path towards the Main Building.

Fabian passed his reins to
Mistral, his eyes holding hers.  He touched a hand to her cheek in the
briefest of gestures.  Then he was gone. 

Mistral watched her Mage walk
away from her.  The only thing anchoring her to sanity was gone. 
Panic swept through her, wild and uncontrollable.  She would have
screamed, but she had no breath.  She should have run after him, but her
legs were wooden.  She stood, immobile.  Frozen.

‘Come with me Mistral. 
It’ll be alright.’

Phantom was beside her, his presence
calming her just enough to breathe again. 

‘Let Clovis tend the
horses.  We need to pay our respects.’

Mistral continued to stare at the
empty path where Fabian had been only moments before, ‘I – I can’t!’

‘You can.  He will be back
soon.’

She felt Phantom take her hand,
gently pulling her towards The Cloak and Dagger.  With one last desperate
glance at the path Mistral let herself be led away.  She stumbled along by
Phantom’s side, holding his hand tightly.  Voices spoke around her, muted
and distant.  She felt numb, removed from the sudden noise and light of
the busy tavern while Phantom led her to a table and pushed her onto a chair.

A goblet of spiced wine appeared
before her and she took it gratefully, gulping down the warm liquid, sighing
with relief when the heat of alcohol flooded through her.  Placing her
goblet down, she looked up to see that her brothers were also seated at the
table.  They were quiet, their faces uniformly blank, but Cain’s was
desolate.  His aura sprang into Mistral’s view and her hands tightened on
her empty goblet, his grief tearing at her like a knife.  Tears filled her
eyes but she bit down hard on her lip, refusing to let them fall. 

‘Tell me a story Cain.’
 Mistral lifted her chin, her expression defiant while her eyes shone with
unshed tears.  ‘Tell one about our brother, something to make us remember
him with a smile.’

Cain turned his goblet slowly,
his familiar crooked smile sad, ‘Ah, but he wanted to be remembered with
respect.’

‘He is brother.’  Brutus
refilled everyone’s goblets.  ‘Tell a tale.’

‘Well, there was this one time
that springs to mind.’  Cain paused and took a long drink from his
goblet.  ‘We were working in the north, a Council Contract.  Damn was
it cold!  It was late January and some idiot farmer with less brains than
a pea had dug up a hibernating nest of twin-headed vipers.  You can
imagine just how pleased they were to be woken up in winter!  Anyway, the
farmer obviously never made it home that night and what with it being Council-owned
land, they had to be seen to act, so they called in the cavalry –’

‘Namely your good self and the
boy Saul?’  Xerxes interjected with a grin.

‘The very same.’  Cain
nodded, smiling crookedly again.  ‘And there we are, literally freezing
our –’

‘Cain!’

‘Sorry Mistral.  Anyway it
was rather cold and there we were trying to find a bed for the night in some
godforsaken village full of inbred idiots that didn’t even know when to leave a
nest of hibernating vipers alone, when who should show up but Cyrus and Barak
–’

‘What?  Those excuses for
Training Lieutenants we had last year?’

‘Yes Mistral, now please try not
to interrupt!  Where was I?  Oh yes, there they were, larger and
uglier than life, grinning at us like we were brothers, not the apprentices
that got them chucked out of the Ri last year!  Anyway, they invited us to
join them for a card game in the tavern.  Turns out the locals hold a
tournament there every January, not a lot else to do you see.  Well,
suffice to say, the vipers never got found.  In fact, it took us three
days to sober up and Saul never did find his left boot –’

Xerxes wiped an imaginary tear
from his eye, ‘Ah, brother, you make me so proud.’

Mistral laughed into her wine
while her brothers roared and slapped Cain on the back.  At once colourful
stories were being banded across the table, half-forgotten mishaps during
training, disastrous Contracts and tales of drunken antics.

‘Good memories.’  Xerxes
shook his head with a grin.  ‘Hey Mistral!  D’you remember you and
Saul brawling with Barak in the Training Room?’ 

‘Yes brother.’  Mistral
immediately hid her face in her goblet, choking down a huge swallow of wine to
hide a sob. 

‘Fill your tankards and
drink!  We do not mourn the passing of a warrior tonight but honour his
life.’

‘Oh no!  I can’t listen to
him do that speech again.’  Phantom groaned when Leo’s voice sounded out
across the noisy tavern.

‘It is starting to wear a bit
thin.’  Brutus agreed.

‘Or maybe we’ve just heard his
voice too much.’  Xerxes speculated.

They all laughed and earned a
glacial stare from Leo.

‘Stick it Leo.’  Cain
muttered into his goblet.  ‘Saul would rather we laughed than listened to
your pompous speech.’

‘To Saul.’  Xerxes raised
his drink.

‘Brother.’ they echoed and
drained their goblets.

‘Another?’  Phantom enquired
and reached for Mistral’s empty goblet.

‘Just have Floris bring a damned
cask over.’  Xerxes waved a hand in an expansive gesture. 

‘Good idea.’  Brutus leapt
up.  ‘Come on brother.  Give me a hand –’

Mistral watched the brothers
force their way through the packed tavern then turned to Phantom, her voice
quiet, ‘Brother?’

‘Yes Mistral?’

She hesitated and fiddled with
her goblet, ‘About what Phantasm said to me in the meadows –’

Phantom cut her off sharply,
‘Forget every damned word.  He was too harsh.’  

Mistral was too taken aback to
argue.  Phantom never contradicted his twin.

Phantom took a drink from his
goblet and lowered it with a sigh, ‘Look Mistral.  I can see you’re
riddled with guilt over Saul’s death, and I know you don’t want to be a Seer,
more than you understand actually.’  He paused and frowned, turning the
goblet thoughtfully.  ‘I was hard on you at the start of the year, and I’m
sorry for that.  I was frustrated that you just didn’t seem to care about
mastering Sight.  It was selfish of me, I know, but I was impatient you
see.  I wanted you to join us.’  he looked up suddenly, his green
eyes piercing.  ‘We could be so powerful together.’

‘I don’t want power brother.’

‘No.’  Phantom looked at his
goblet again.  ‘I know.  Believe it or not, I was also reluctant to
accept the full responsibility of our gift too.’

His gaze drifted across the bar,
staring unseeingly into the past.  Mistral kept quiet and watched him,
waiting for him to continue. 

‘My brother always saw more
clearly than me what our gift meant.  He knew how much we could achieve
and precisely what we should do to get there, but I?  Well, at first all I
wanted to do was have fun, play tricks and cause trouble, the kind of mindless
stupidity that would make Xerxes seem mature!’  He shook his head,
embarrassed by the boy he had been.  ‘But all that changed when we came to
the Valley and met you.’

‘Me?’

Phantom gazed at her, ‘Yes
Mistral.  You.  You altered my perspective.’

She frowned, bewildered, ‘But ...
how?’

He sighed, frustration and
exasperation mingling on his beautiful face in a way that was so typically
Phantom she almost wanted to smile. 

‘Because Mistral, you have the
Sight.  Whether you like it or not.  Do you have any idea of the
potential we hold between us?  I’m not talking about power now, I’m
talking about gifts.  We’re gifted.  We can change things, for the
good.’

‘The good?’  she echoed
blankly.

‘Yes.’  Phantom nodded
solemnly.  ‘There are no limits.’

Mistral gazed at him wordlessly
while he took a long drink of wine and slowly placed the goblet back
down. 

‘We both care for you
Mistral.’ 

She blinked, thrown by his sudden
change of direction.  After everything that had happened at the festival
there was no way she could cope with an emotional scene.

‘You are more than a sister to
us, but I think you know that.’  Phantom fixed her with his mesmerising
green gaze and smiled.  ‘Phantasm has this theory.  He thinks it’s
too much of a coincidence that we three are here at the same time.  He
believes it was meant to be.’

Mistral’s eyes slid from his to
stare down at her empty goblet.  Fabian had said much the same to her
before and she couldn’t deny that it did seem awfully like –

‘Destiny.’

‘Talking of which, yours has just
walked through the door.’

Mistral’s eyes flew up to meet
Fabian’s across the busy tavern.  She immediately shoved her chair back
and pushed her way through the crowd to meet him, the warmth of his embrace
instantly easing the desperate ache within her.

She tried to pull him towards the
table but he resisted, his dark eyes veiled.