The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (32 page)

‘So,
Brothertoft, tell me all about you and Elnora and how you came to raise such a
confident young woman.  You must have so many wonderful stories to
tell!’ 

‘Oho! 
Yes, Mistral has been a one in her time!  Stories you say?  Well, I
suppose there are worse ways to pass a day than drinking cider and sharing a
yarn.’  Brothertoft rubbed his unshaven chin thoughtfully.  ‘Now,
let’s see what I can remember –’

Mistral
gritted her teeth and fervently hoped that the old man’s memory had failed
him.  She pushed herself off the sink she’d been leaning against and
strode over to the table, dragging out a chair next to Phantasm.  

‘Really
Phantasm, Brothertoft doesn’t want to be bothered with all of that and anyway,
we should be leaving now, time is getting on,’ she said firmly, giving Phantasm
a meaningful look.

‘Oh there’s
plenty of time yet,’ smiled Phantasm cheerfully taking another large swig of
cider.  Some of it trickled down the side of the goblet and onto his hand
but he didn’t seem to notice. 

Mistral
watched him with sudden interest.  Brothertoft made the cider himself and
it was deceptively strong.  She didn’t think that Phantasm had realised
that yet and Mistral smiled to herself; the twins’ plan could yet backfire on
them.

‘Fine, allow
me to top us all up then,’ she said brightly and drained the last of the cider
into the four goblets before slipping quietly from the table to refill the jug
from the large barrel by the dresser. 

‘You must be
so proud of what Mistral has achieved since leaving the village,’ began
Phantasm, leaning back on his chair and smiling encouragingly at Brothertoft
while Mistral placed the jug of cider down in front of him and slid noiselessly
into her seat again.

‘Should I be?’
the old man enquired, raising a craggy eyebrow sharply.  ‘Is being an
assassin something to be proud of?’

Phantasm
looked slightly taken aback but quickly recovered, ‘Well, no, but that’s not
the only kind of work available to us.  Mistral is a very gifted
apprentice with quite a career ahead of her –’

The old man
leaned his head back and gave a loud mirthless laugh, cutting Phantasm off
mid-flow.

‘Career? 
Do you think she’ll live long enough to have a
career
doing the kind of
work you do?’  Brothertoft pointed a brittle finger at Phantasm. 
‘Elnora persuaded me to send her to the Ri.  Told me she was too different
to stay here, that the villagers would make her an outcast once we were
gone.  Well what did she know?  The Ri will make her more of an outcast
than we ever could!’ he finished bitterly.  

‘Elnora was
right, Brothertoft,’ said Mistral quietly and reached across the table to place
a reassuring hand on the old man’s arm.  ‘It was the right choice.  I
belong there.’

Brothertoft’s
 eyes flashed with surprise at her touch.  He regarded her
appraisingly for a long moment before heaving a sigh, ‘You always were a bit of
a handful,’ he admitted, shaking his head fondly.  ‘Do you remember when
you were only thirteen you stole a horse and rode into The Velvet Forests? 
You didn’t come back for days.’

Mistral
shrugged, ‘Went hunting.’

‘Hunting!’ 
Brothertoft exclaimed.  ‘You came back with a bear!’

‘Hmmm, it was
a good trip,’ agreed Mistral gazing out of the window with a distant look on
her face.

She took her
hand from Brothertoft’s arm and fiddled distractedly with the stem of her
goblet, staring unseeingly at the untouched amber liquid, ‘You were good to me
Brothertoft, you and Elnora.  I never thanked you for taking me in.’

Brothertoft
frowned, ‘Didn’t want your thanks,’ he said shortly.  ‘We couldn’t have
children, taking you in was as much for us as it was for you.  You gave
Elnora the chance to be a mother.’

Mistral looked
up and met his watery gaze then let her eyes travel over his face, noting how
much he had aged in the last few months.  His papery skin was so pale it
was almost translucent and he seemed to shake continually, as though he was
cold all of the time.

‘Are you ill?’
she asked quietly.

‘I’ll be gone
before the summer is out,’ he stated calmly. 

There was a
brief pause.

‘Anything I
can do?’

He thought for
a moment and then shook his head, ‘It’s been good to see you.’

Phantasm and
Phantom sighed happily, breaking the short silence that followed Brothertoft’s
words.  Mistral looked up; she had almost forgotten that the twins were
there.

‘More cider?’
she asked quietly, holding the jug over Phantom’s empty goblet.

‘Hmm please,
it’s quite a nice drink,’ said Phantom smiling a little lopsidedly at her.

Brothertoft
took another long drink and burped appreciatively, ‘Ah, yes, last year was a
good year for apples.’

‘Do you make
this yourself?’  Phantasm asked looking surprised. 

Brothertoft
nodded and grinned slyly at the twins, ‘Want to know how?’ he said tapping the
side of his nose secretively.

The twins
nodded eagerly and sat riveted while Brothertoft described in detail, with lots
of breaks for sampling the end product, how to make the lethal brew.

Mistral leaned
back in her chair and propped her feet up onto the table, smiling in amusement
at their increasingly rambling conversation.  She didn’t even mind when
Brothertoft began to relate the story of her punching the only boy in the
village brave enough to ask her out.  There was no way the twins would
remember anything Brothertoft was saying, she could tell by the hectic spots of
colour on their ivory pale cheeks that they were totally drunk.  Mistral
let her mind drift while they laughed uproariously at her various exploits; she
could remember some of them clearly, but others were a vague and distant memory,
like something seen through water.  Suddenly, Brothertoft said something
that made her sit up bolt upright in her chair with alarm.

‘Of course, it
wasn’t always
Mistral
you know!’ he chortled taking a slurp of cider and
wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The twins
exchanged bemused glances and looked over to where Mistral was sitting, ramrod
straight with a look of panic on her face.  Carefully avoiding their
curious gaze, Mistral fixed Brothertoft with a sharp look.

‘Yes it
has!  You named me for the terrible storm you found me in, didn’t you
Brothertoft?’  Mistral said quickly.

Brothertoft
nodded wordlessly and looked off into space, obviously reminiscing about the
night in question.

‘Aye, it was a
foul night; full of thunder and lightning.  I remember it like yesterday,’
he sighed deeply and took another noisy slurp of cider.  ‘But what I
remember most of all was that you were right next to a mighty big puddle. 
The biggest puddle I’ve ever seen in my life.  Couldn’t think of anything
else to call you for a while, so the name stuck till Elnora said we couldn’t
call you that and changed it to Mistral.  But for a while she was my
Puddle,’ he finished, smiling hazily at Mistral’s horrified face. 

There was a
long silence in which Mistral seemed to sag and deflate in her chair, finally
resting her forehead down onto the table top with a quiet moan. 

‘
Puddle
?’
queried Phantom in disbelief.

‘Ah, such an
appropriate name for an assassin,’ said Phantasm grinning gleefully.

Mistral sighed
quietly but didn’t lift her head from the table top.

It was a mark
of their true friendship that the twins struggled hard, and nearly succeeded,
in containing their laughter.  After a few stifled snorts of laughter
Phantasm stood up a little unsteadily and raised his goblet, slopping cider
over the side and onto the table.

‘Puddle,’ he
began in a sincere voice, ignoring the murderous look Mistral shot him from the
table top.  ‘In the interests of loyalty and friendship,’ he continued with
a hiccup.  ‘I feel it is only fair that I should tell you that I have not
always been called Phantasm.’

‘No!’
exclaimed Phantom loudly staring in wide-eyed horror at his brother.  ‘You
can’t do this!’

Phantasm held
up a hand, his face serious, ‘I feel I must.’ 

He turned to
Mistral who raised her head slightly from the table to meet his solemn gaze.

‘Mistral …
sister.  Allow me to introduce myself.  My given name is Sheldon.’

‘Don’t you
dare tell her mine!’  Phantom warned in a low hiss.

‘And this,’
carried on Phantasm with an erratic wave of his hand in Phantom’s direction,
‘is my brother, Wesley.’

Mistral’s
laughter drowned out the sound of Phantom’s loud sob of despair and the old man
repeating ‘damned big puddle, like a lake!’ to himself.

‘Really? 
Sheldon and Wesley?  You’re not winding me up?’ she choked incredulously.

‘What can I
say?  Mother was trying to fit into Council society so she chose more
traditional and
normal
sounding names,’ sighed Phantasm, his eyes
drooping slightly as he took another drink of cider.

It was another
hour before Mistral could prise the twins away from Brothertoft and his barrel
of cider.  They were finally persuaded to leave when Brothertoft slumped
into a drunken stupor at the table, snoring heavily. 

Mistral
carried the old man through to the bedroom he had shared with Elnora for nearly
all of his life and laid him gently on the bed.  His feather-light body
barely made an impression against the patchwork quilt Mistral could remember
Elnora making during the long winter evenings. 

‘Goodbye
Brothertoft,’ she said softly to the frail figure on the bed.  She watched
him for a moment then turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind
her.

When she
walked back into the kitchen Mistral found the twins singing a haunting lullaby
with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders.

‘Ah,’ sighed
Phantom wiping an emotional tear from his eye.  ‘Do you remember mother
singing that to us?’

Phantasm
nodded vaguely and a sorrowful look clouded his face as he hummed the last few
lines again. 

‘Right! 
Sheldon!  Wesley!  It’s time to go now!’  Mistral stood in the
kitchen doorway with her hands on her hips and a look on her face that brooked
no argument.

The twins
jumped and looked up at her guiltily.  Phantasm muttered something
unintelligible to Phantom who nodded, round-eyed with fear.  Mistral
frowned and narrowed her eyes menacingly at them, she was sure she had just
heard Phantasm call her ‘mother.’  Catching her look, they both instantly
rose to their feet and staggered obediently out of the tiny kitchen and into
the bright midday sunshine.

Mistral fought
hard to control her temper while she watched the twins trying to mount their
horses.  Jupiter and Mars stood patiently while their masters hopped
around unsteadily on one leg with the other wedged in the stirrup.

‘Oh this is
just pathetic!’  Mistral muttered, striding over and shoving each twin
unceremoniously up onto his horse.  ‘Now can we please get out of here?’
she demanded frostily.

‘Lead the way,
sister,’ said Phantasm faintly, pressing a hand delicately to his
forehead.  ‘I can feel a slight headache coming on.’

Mistral swore
under her breath and urged Cirrus into a fast trot out of the village.

‘Oh hang on a
minute,’ she said in an exasperated voice.  Reining Cirrus in sharply, she
leapt from the saddle and banged energetically on the nearest door to her.

After a
lengthy pause the door opened a crack and a frightened looking face peered out
at her.

‘Yes?’ the
woman enquired apprehensively.

‘Sorry to
bother you,’ said Mistral in a voice that clearly meant she wasn’t.  ‘But
has Mage Grapple and an army of warlocks been through here in the last couple
of days?’

The woman’s
eyes grew huge, ‘M-Mage Grapple?’  she stuttered uncertainly.

‘Yes,’ snapped
Mistral.  ‘You know, Head of the Council.  Well?  Been here has
he?’

The woman made
to close the door in Mistral’s face but she quickly rammed her boot into the
gap, forcing it open.

‘I’m not going
until you answer me,’ she growled threateningly. 

The woman shook
her head, wide-eyed with fear. 

‘You
sure?’  Mistral asked in a hard voice.  ‘Only I would hate to have to
come back and ask again.’

‘I
swear!  I swear!  Mage Grapple hasn’t been here!’  the woman
wailed with tears in her eyes.

Mistral nodded
in satisfaction, ‘Thank you,’ she said coldly before lifting her foot out of
the woman’s door and letting her close it with a resounding bang.

‘Nicely
handled,’ said Phantom approvingly.  ‘Really good display of people
skills, have you ever considered a career in politics?’

Mistral
glowered at them both and leapt back onto Cirrus, pushing him into a gallop
along the main street in her eagerness to leave Nevelte far behind her,
hopefully for the last time.

They made camp
sooner than Mistral would have liked that evening due to the twins’ sudden
desire to have an early night.  

‘Come
on!  We can make more ground before the sun sets,’ she argued, frowning in
frustration at the ill-looking pair.

Phantasm
groaned and lowered himself slowly from Jupiter’s back, ‘No, Mistral,’ he
muttered in a pained voice.  ‘I can’t ride another step, we’re camping and
that’s final.’

‘We’ll make
the time up tomorrow.’  Phantom promised weakly.

‘Make the time
up?  What do you think we’re doing?  Shift work?’  Mistral
demanded angrily.

Phantasm
pressed his hands to his head, ‘Please … don’t shout –’

Mistral drew
in a deep breath and glared furiously at them, ‘Fine,’ she snapped.  ‘I’m
going to hunt for dinner.  Try and make a fire or do something useful by the
time I get back.’ 

The twins
watched her disappear into the woods and didn’t speak until they could no
longer make out the dark shape of Cirrus amongst the trees.

‘Has she
gone?’ asked Phantasm faintly.

‘Yes,’
confirmed Phantom with a deep sigh.

‘Thank
goodness for that.’  Phantasm sank gratefully onto the grass.  ‘She
can be very … demanding.’

Phantom looked
in askance at his brother lying with his eyes closed, ‘I’ll make the fire then
shall I?’ he snapped.

‘Please,’ said
Phantasm opening one eye a fraction.  ‘I don’t feel up to moving at the
minute –’

The night
passed without event.  Mistral brought back a couple of rabbits which she
skinned whilst sitting next to the fire, much to the twins obvious discomfort.

‘Do you have
to do that here?’ asked Phantasm looking queasy.

‘Need the
light, sorry,’ she muttered tersely, throwing the hides into the nearby
undergrowth.

Strangely,
neither of the twins felt like eating much and Mistral gorged herself on roast
rabbit before having an enforced early night.  Rolled in her cloak,
Mistral tried to get comfortable on the hard ground but sleep proved elusive
and she lay for a long while with only her thoughts for company.  Seeing
Nevelte again had made her think of all the times she had tried to escape her dull
existence by running off to live in The Velvet Forests for days, sometimes
weeks at a time.  Mistral smiled at the memory of the girl who had always
felt more at home sleeping out under the spreading canopy of trees than in a
bed under a roof. 

Mistral awoke
stiff and cold at dawn the next day; the down side to sleeping out in the
open.  She looked over at the twins to see them both still fast
asleep.  Mistral knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, there was
too much noise.  The birds were singing so loudly she couldn’t believe the
twins were sleeping through it.  Deciding that a good breakfast might sort
out their delicate constitutions, Mistral quickly bundled up her cloak and went
to saddle Cirrus for another hunting trip.

Mistral had
still not returned by the time the twins awoke an hour later. 

‘What time is
it?  Phantasm asked groggily rising to his feet and yawning.

‘I don’t
care,’ moaned Phantom in a low voice, dragging his cloak over his head.

‘Let’s get
sorted out before Mistral gets back.  I can’t face her shouting at us
again,’ urged Phantasm tugging the cloak from his brother’s face.

‘Good point,’
conceded Phantom getting reluctantly to his feet and rubbing his face
blearily.  ‘Is there a stream near here?’

Feeling
marginally better after an invigorating wash in the stream, the twins returned
to the camp and began to pack up ready for when Mistral returned.

‘Where do you
think she’s gone?’  Phantom asked while he rolled up his cloak.

‘Probably to
kill something,’ replied Phantasm shortly.  ‘She was in a rather
challenging mood yesterday.’

Phantom
cringed, ‘Please don’t mention yesterday.  I was hoping that was just a
bad dream.’

‘Sorry
brother.’  Phantasm looked glumly at his twin.  ‘I think that I
rather let the cat out of the bag.  Let’s just hope Mistral’s forgotten
about it.’

Phantom’s
eyebrows twitched dubiously but he said nothing and they continued to pack in
silence.  Mistral returned a short while later laden with more
rabbits.  Leaving Cirrus to graze she strolled nonchalantly over to where
the twins were sitting with their backs pressed up against the broad trunk of
an oak tree.

‘Breakfast?’
she enquired cheerfully waggling a pair of rabbits at them.

Encouraged by
her apparent good mood, the twins nodded eagerly. 

‘I’ll get this
going again,’ said Phantom, getting to his feet and walking over to the
remnants of last night’s fire. 

‘Thanks
Wes.’  Mistral sighed gratefully and sat down to skin the rabbits. 

Phantom froze
and shot his brother a foul look.

‘Er, Mistral,
about yesterday,’ began Phantasm hesitantly.

‘Hmm?’ 
Mistral didn’t look up from the rabbit she was skinning.

‘Well, about
the whole name thing ... I was wondering if we could agree never to mention the
subject ever again?’ he asked, looking at her beseechingly.

Mistral gazed
back at him evenly, ‘Oh, I don’t think I could do that,’ she murmured, giving
him a small smile.  ‘After all, you did want to meet Brothertoft so very
much and find out all about me, so I only think it’s fair that I get something
in return.’

The twins
looked at each other, totally aghast as the truth sank in.  They were
being blackmailed.

‘What do you
want?’  Phantasm asked weakly.

Mistral
speared the rabbit she had skinned on a stick and passed it to Phantom to cook
over the fire.

‘I think,’ she
said turning to look at Phantasm thoughtfully, ‘that I would like to know all
about your upbringing, in particular, your mother.’

There was an
awful, billowing silence in which the twins stared at her with stricken
expressions on their faces.  Their looks were so agonised that Mistral
almost withdrew her request, but then she remembered how Phantasm has
mercilessly plied Brothertoft with cider to encourage him to talk and forced
herself to remain firm.

The fire
crackled and spat as fat from the cooking rabbit dropped into the flames,
breaking the silence.  Mistral looked at Phantasm and lifted an eyebrow.

‘I’m waiting
for my answer,’ she reminded him archly.

Phantasm
rubbed his hands over his face looking uncharacteristically flustered. 
Phantom stared at him with a worried expression on his face.

‘Oh, alright
then,’ he finally conceded, ignoring Phantom’s groan.  ‘But not before
we’ve eaten.  I don’t think I could face an inquisition on an empty
stomach.’

Mistral
grinned and passed the second rabbit to Phantom, ‘No problem!  Roast
rabbit coming up!’

Fortified by
rabbit and rye bread, the twins felt almost ready to face the day.  While
Mistral doused the fire with earth and checked the campsite was clear they went
to tack their horses. 

‘This is going
to be hell,’ muttered Phantom to his brother and threw a saddle bad-temperedly
onto his horse.

‘Look, it’s
entirely my fault, I know, so it’s only fair that I answer all the questions,’
Phantasm responded in a conciliatory tone.  ‘Happy now?’

Phantom looked
slightly mollified and bent to buckle the girth.  ‘Not really, I would be
happy if you hadn’t gone and blabbed about those hideous names mother dumped on
us!’

Phantasm
sighed and hoped that Mistral wasn’t as good at asking questions as she was
hunting.

The moment
Mistral swung her leg across the saddle and gathered up the reins she turned
and fixed Phantasm with a look of anticipation.

‘Tell me
everything.’

Phantasm
stared wordlessly at her for a moment, ‘What, no questions?  You just want
me to start from the beginning?’ he asked with a frown.

Mistral nodded
and smiled smugly.

Phantasm cast
his eyes upwards and drew in a deep breath before glancing quickly at his
brother for reassurance.  He was dismayed to see that Phantom was keeping
his eyes steadily fixed on his horse’s ears.

‘Oh fine.’

They began to
ride at a steady walk, moving out of the shade of the trees and across a wide
meadow while Phantasm began to tell Mistral their story.

‘Well, our
mother, Melsina, was – is – a sylvad from a large tribe in the Dawn
Forest.  A celebrated beauty in her time but none of the tribe was ever
quite good enough for her.  She had ambitions of leaving her woodland
tribe and took the chance to realise them when she met a Mage travelling
through the forests.  Of course he fell in love with her instantly; she
was very beguiling.  He wooed her relentlessly for what I’m sure she
considered to be an appropriate amount of time before she submitted to his
marriage proposal and promptly left the tribe to live in the Council’s northern
stronghold.  Her new husband was much older than her but she didn’t care,
he was her one opportunity to leave the tribe.  His name was Preston
Argyle, and he held quite a high position on the Mage Council, so mother
instantly had prestige.

‘Mother took
to Council life as if she was born to it; the endless galas, the clothes, the
dinners, the petty gossip.  She thrived on it.  And then my brother
and I came along.  Preston couldn’t be prouder at having twin sons and
insisted on us being integrated into every aspect of Council life.  We
were given acceptable
names,’ Phantasm paused and shuddered, ‘and
educated in the Council school alongside all the Mage born children.’ 

Phantasm
paused again and Mistral wondered how hard that must have been for them both,
to have been forced to try and fit in when they were so obviously different
from the other children.

‘Anyway, the
whole house of cards came crashing down when Preston selfishly died of a heart
attack at one of their indulgent functions.  It turned out that Preston
wasn’t as rich as he made out and left a pile of debts instead of a fat
legacy.  Mother was instantly ostracized by all her so called friends;
she’d only really been tolerated because of her husband’s high standing. 
She was friendless and practically destitute but still couldn’t bear the
thought returning to tribal life so she accepted the first suitor that came
knocking on her door.  Well, he wasn’t interested in raising somebody
else’s half-breeds and told her flatly that it was us or him.’ 

Phantasm had
stopped again and Mistral looked at him, his face was hard and she immediately
felt guilty for forcing him into talking about such a distressing memory. 
Everyone who came to train in the Valley had a story of pain and rejection to
tell, which was precisely why it was a taboo subject amongst the
apprentices. 

Phantasm drew
in a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders, ‘Anyway, mother made her
choice.  We were sent back to the tribe to be raised there and she became
Mrs De’ath.  My brother and I couldn’t take to the tribe’s way of life and
they couldn’t take to us.  We were too used to good food and hot baths,
not hunting and fighting.  We stayed for a couple of years while we made
our minds up on what to do with our lives and finally decided to pursue a
career through the Ri.  Laughable really, when you consider that neither
my brother not I liked hunting or fighting, but we had a plan you see.  We
would train as warriors initially then spend a second year honing our gift specifically
to work in the Council – for the highest payer that is.  The Council
turned its back on our mother and us when we needed them and I have no qualms
about making money at their expense.  And with our skills, my brother and
I will be in great demand.’

Mistral raised
her eyebrows in surprise; she had never considered that their ambitions were
driven by revenge. 

‘My brother
and I knew from an early age that we were … different.  We found that when
we thought of the same thing at the same time we could make it happen.  I
suppose we really realised the full potential of our gift when we were at
school and used it to stop the other children bullying us.  Mother called
it the power of positive thought.  She said she’d done the same thing to
meet our father – wished hard for something to happen and it did.  I’ve
often suspected that she has a latent gift but never developed it.’

Phantasm
stopped talking and lapsed into a brooding silence.  Mistral rode along
quietly beside him for a while, thinking about everything he had said. 

‘Where’s your
mother now?’  Mistral asked, breaking the silence. 

Phantasm
sighed and shrugged his shoulders.  ‘She still lives in the house that our
father owned but she travels quite a lot with her new husband, Vilius
De’ath.  He’s a Foreign Ambassador for the Council.’

They rode in
silence for a while.  The sun arced overhead and began to drop as the
afternoon wore on.  They were travelling alongside the outskirts of The
Velvet Forests, heeding Leo’s warning not to cut through.