The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (17 page)

Mistral had to
agree, Grendel’s powerful troll odour was a serious down-side to taking him on
a hunt, unless they were tracking something with no sense of smell.

‘Instead of
looking at the negatives to Grendel, let’s look at the positives,’ said
Phantasm gazing over at the massive apprentice thoughtfully.  ‘If he stays
here in the camp the manticore will definitely not come anywhere near us. 
In fact, if it’s got any sense it’ll take one whiff and realise that Grendel
has troll-blood and head straight up to its den to hide out until the danger
has passed.  We could in effect, drive it up to you.’

Mistral nodded
in agreement, ‘That could work … we just need to locate the den first.’

Saul relayed
the plan to the other apprentices who listened in silence.

‘Sorry Grendel,’
said Saul, shrugging apologetically.  ‘It’s just that you have a rather
distinctive … aroma.’

Grendel
grunted and swung his battle-axe up onto his shoulder, ‘I’ll take first watch,’
he growled and strode off.

‘You may have
hurt his feelings,’ Phantom admonished.

‘He’ll get
over it,’ muttered Saul.

The other
apprentices agreed readily to their idea.  In the end the twins, Brutus,
Konrad and Grendel elected to stay in the pastures and a smaller group
consisting of Mistral, Xerxes, Saul and Bali would go up into the mountain.

‘Did anyone
bring any rope?’  Saul asked, rummaging through his own saddlebag.

‘Yes, I did,’
Bali confirmed quietly and untied a heavy coiled rope from his saddle and wound
it around his chest and shoulder to carry it.  He walked away from the
group and stared up at the mountainside, studying it carefully.

‘I bet he
brought a cloth to dry the dishes with as well,’ muttered Mistral sourly. 

Bali was so
efficient it irritated her but she made a mental note to herself never to travel
into the mountains without rope again. 

They quickly
prepared themselves for the climb, taking food and waterskins as well as their
cloaks.  Mistral put her jerkin on and immediately felt too hot but she
knew it would quickly get colder the higher they climbed.

‘Don’t make
too much mess of my manticore pelt Mistral – in fact, leave your swords
here.  We won’t get half as much money if it’s full of holes.’

‘No chance,
see you soon Phantom,’ said Mistral and quickly fell in step beside Saul to
make their way up the steep grassy slope, following Xerxes and Bali who were
already striding purposefully ahead. 

The afternoon
sun was warm and they were all soon sweating after clambering up to the rocky
foot of the mountain.  Climbing in single file behind Bali, they made
rapid progress up the first steep incline to reach a grassy plateau. 
Signalling wordlessly for them to wait at the edge of the plateau, Bali
immediately began to scour the ground for signs of tracks, suddenly squatting
down and beckoning them over when he found some.

‘See
here?’  he asked, pointing to a faint mark on the stony earth.

Xerxes,
Mistral and Saul squatted down and peered intently at the earth, looking
closely they could just make out the faint impression of a large paw print.

‘Is it
fresh?’  Xerxes asked, running his finger over the soil lightly to feel
how damp it was.  ‘It hasn’t rained in a while.’

‘I can’t
tell,’ said Bali cautiously.  ‘It would help if we could find some scats
... spread out and look around.  They’ll be quite distinctive and probably
smell strongly of sheep as that’s what it has been feeding on recently.’

‘So now I’m
hunting for manticore dung?’  Mistral muttered to Saul while they walked
slowly across the plateau, raking the ground with their eyes.

Saul didn’t
comment but dropped down onto his haunches, pointing to a long, narrow object
with a distinctive twist in it. 

‘I think
that’s a scat,’ he muttered uncertainly.  ‘Bali?’  he called out more
loudly and the apprentice swiftly joined him, hunkering down beside him to
study the scat.

Mistral pulled
a face when Bali reached out and crumbled the scat between his fingers,
breathing the smell in with a look of concentration on his face.

‘Definitely
sheep.  Well done, we’re on the right track.’

‘I’m not
eating anything he cooks while we’re out here,’ said Mistral quietly to Saul.

They walked up
to the base of the next wall of rock and looked up, studying the climb. 
It wouldn’t be easy.  The mountainside veered away, straight-sided and
dizzyingly high. 

‘Wait here,’
Bali ordered.

‘
Wait here
,’
Mistral mimicked under her breath and watched with a mixture of jealousy and
grudging admiration when Bali quickly scaled the sheer rockface and pulled
himself up over the top.

‘Catch!’ he
called and dropped the rope down.

‘I’ll go
first,’ Saul said and grabbed hold of the swinging length of rope. 

Bali kept a
firm hold on one end while Saul climbed up rapidly and clambered over the edge
to stand next to him.  When Mistral followed him up Saul reached down and offered
her his hand, which she ignored.  He shrugged and offered the same help to
a red-faced Xerxes when he appeared.

‘Thanks!’
 Xerxes panted gratefully and heaved himself over the lip of rock and onto
the plateau.  ‘This is turning out to be more work than I expected! 
Do you think we’ve climbed high enough yet Bali?’  he asked hopefully.

Bali didn’t
respond, he was looking over his shoulder at the rise of rock behind them while
he coiled the rope back in.  The three apprentices followed his gaze and instantly
saw what had attracted his attention.  The dismembered remains of a sheep
were laid at the base of the next cliff face.  There was no odour of
rotting meat; the kill was fresh.

Wordlessly,
the apprentices drew their swords and stared intently up at the mountainside
above them, their eyes raking the grey rock for any signs of an opening that
would provide a suitable den for the manticore.

‘There!’ 
Mistral pointed to a dark gash in the face of the mountain above them. 

Saul studied
the rocky crevice, focussing his sharp-sighted eyes on smaller details the
others could not make out. 

‘I see bones
in the entrance,’ he murmured. 

‘Can you see
any movement?’  Xerxes asked quickly.

Saul was
silent while he continued to stare at the cave mouth, finally giving a slight
shake of his head, ‘No.’

‘Let’s climb
up and find out!’  Mistral said eagerly and started to walk towards the
base of the cliff housing the manticore’s den. 

‘Not a good
idea!’  Saul quickly grabbed her arm to hold her back.

‘Why
not?’  Mistral demanded, spinning round to face him.  ‘I didn’t come
up here for the fresh air!’

‘Mistral,
please try and be a bit patient!’  Saul hissed.  ‘We need to work out
a plan before barging up there and shoving our heads into a dark cave that may
or may not have a large, carnivorous beast in it!’

‘Oh for crying
out loud!  Do I get sick of “details”!’  Mistral exclaimed and folded
her arms sulkily.

Xerxes let out
a low rumble of laughter but Bali remained impassive, gazing intently up at the
rocky opening. 

‘I think it’s
empty.  Apart from the noise you two are making our scent would have
alerted it to our presence by now, which means it’s out hunting somewhere,’ he
turned abruptly and looked out over the pastures spreading out in a patchwork
of greens below them.  ‘Konrad said he didn’t think that they were
nocturnal, but he couldn’t be sure.  The one they hunted was caught at
twilight so it could either have been going out or returning to its den.’

‘They aren’t
nocturnal,’ said Mistral quietly.

Xerxes and
Saul turned to look inquisitively at her.

Ignoring their
curious looks she shrugged, ‘I grew up listening to tales about them, the lion
with the human face and poisonous tail.  I thought it was just a story
made up to frighten small children … anyway, in the stories I was told, the
manticore hunted by day.’

Bali nodded
thoughtfully and continued to scour the pastures, ‘That’s useful.  I think
we should wait up here.  We have a good vantage point and should be able
to spot any movement quite clearly, for as long as the light holds
anyway.  Xerxes?’

Xerxes moved
silently up to stand beside Bali. 

‘Have your bow
ready.  A shot from this distance might not kill it but will definitely
slow it down.’

Xerxes grinned
and lifted his bow from his back, ‘Oh, I’ll kill it if I can!  I’ve got
money riding on that fact!’

‘Of course you
have, Xerxes,’ Mistral muttered with a roll of her eyes.

They spaced
themselves out along the edge of the plateau and sat down, looking out in
different directions across the rolling grasslands.  The late afternoon
sun was warm on their backs, after the ride and the climb they were all hot and
thirsty.  Saul pulled a skin of water from his saddlebag and passed it
around and Xerxes produced some of the dried meat that Floris had
provided.  They ate their meagre meal in silence, only speaking to exclaim
quietly when they saw something move, but it was only ever one of the grazing
sheep wandering lazily across the pasture.

Mistral looked
down at the distant camp, wondering what the twins were doing.  Away from
their company for the first time since coming to the Valley she was surprised
to find that she was missing the constant background noise of their
chatter. 

‘I bet there’s
a game of knucklebones going on right now,’ said Xerxes bitterly and stared
down at the camp below them.

‘I doubt it,’
said Bali.  ‘If they’ve got any sense they’ll all be watching the land
around them like hawks.’

Another hour
crawled by and the sun began to drop beyond the mountains behind them, sending
deep shadows creeping across the plateau and the pasture land below.  It
became harder to distinguish shapes in the depths of the shadows below them and
Mistral found her eyes aching from the strain of staring so hard.  She was
also beginning to feel stiff from staying in the same position for so long and
stood up to walk around the darkening plateau, stretching out her aching limbs
gratefully and loosening off the tension in her shoulders.  Glancing up
briefly at the dark den, Mistral toyed with the idea of climbing up there again
and turned to voice her idea the other three then suddenly froze.

A pair of
tawny eyes were staring back at her from the other side of the plateau.

‘Saul –’

Mistral slowly
reached for her swords, not taking her eyes from the manticore.  It was
crouched at the base of the cliff below the rocky opening.  Mistral felt a
thrill of fear when she realised that it must have been in its den all along,
watching them.  Its face had oddly flattened features that looked almost
human, apart from the eyes, shimmering pools of gold that were fixed
unblinkingly on Mistral.  She levelled her swords at it and stared evenly
back. 

Mistral heard
Saul’s sharp intake of breath and knew he had seen the manticore poised, ready
to spring.  She heard the others leaping to their feet, cursing under
their breath with the realisation that they’d been sat with their backs to the
manticore the whole time.

The manticore
opened its mouth to roar, revealing a triple row of sharp teeth.  Steeling
herself to hear a deep snarling sound, Mistral was taken aback by the low,
musical sound that came from the manticore’s open mouth.  The call rose
and fell with bewitching harmony, almost like the manticore was singing to her
and a pleasant dreamy sensation suddenly stole over her. 

‘Focus!’ 
Bali called out sharply.  ‘The call is enchanted!’

Bali’s voice
seemed to come from far away, piercing through the heavy fog in her head and
dragging her mind back to the strange creature crouching before her. 
Gritting her teeth, she raised her swords again and glared at the manticore
with fresh determination.

‘You’re going
to have to do better than that, kitty.’

The
manticore’s tail twitched with frustration and Mistral saw that it wasn’t
tipped with a tuft of fur like its leonine body would suggest, but with a clump
of long dark spines.  With another low bell-like cry it began to pace back
and forth across the plateau, gazing almost thoughtfully at Mistral. 
Without warning it suddenly wheeled and launched itself at her, claws splayed
and teeth bared in a snarl.

Mistral dug
her back foot into the loose earth of the plateau and angled her swords
upwards, tensed ready for the impact.  Time seemed to slow as she watched
the manticore hurtling through the air, reaching out with curved claws.  Suddenly
there was a high-pitched whine followed by a resounding thud.  The
manticore tumbled over with the force of the impact and rolled across the
ground.  It clambered to its feet and turned to face Mistral again. 
Mistral could see blood staining the golden flanks where Xerxes’ arrow had
plunged into its shoulder.  The manticore didn’t even glance at the arrow,
its large amber eyes were set on her.  Giving a low melodic cry the
manticore padded softly towards her again. 

More
high-pitched whines rang out followed by the double thud of two crossbow bolts
striking their target.  The manticore staggered then sank slowly onto its
belly and began to crawl towards Mistral, still staring hungrily at her. 

Looking almost
disappointed, Mistral stepped forwards and thrust a sword into the side of the
manticore’s neck, releasing a gush of scarlet blood.  Giving one last
lingering cry the manticore slumped lifelessly onto its side.

Mistral yanked
her sword out and spun around to glare at the others, ‘Did you have to do
that?’ 

‘Shouldn’t you
be saying “thank you”?’  Saul said, walking over with a bemused expression
on his face.