The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (60 page)

BOOK: The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)
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Xerxes
suddenly rushed forwards with his fists clenched.  Konrad instinctively
raised his hands to defend himself leaving his body unprotected and allowing Xerxes
to drive a fist into his ribs.  Konrad grunted in pain but remained
upright.  Quickly taking advantage of Xerxes’ close proximity he tried to
grab at his throat.  Catching the fleet movement, Xerxes reflexively
grabbed both of Konrad’s wrists.  Yanking them together he shifted his
grip to hold them with one hand and slammed his free hand into Konrad’s throat
and squeezed, restricting his breathing enough to make the half-drow start to
turn red.  Twisting sharply to the side, Xerxes flung Konrad to the floor
and dropped down beside him, keeping the pressure against his throat until Leo
called time on their bout.

Xerxes and
Konrad walked from the centre of the floor and resumed their seats against the
back wall in total silence.  Leo did not comment on their performance but
immediately called out the next two apprentices.  Konrad’s face was
suffused with anger; he had come off worst in the bout and he knew it.  By
contrast Xerxes looked quietly pleased with himself and rested his head back against
the wall to watch the next round.

To Mistral’s
disappointment Leo had called up Columbine and Grendel.  The squat,
muscular figure of the half-gargillian barely reached as high as Grendel’s
chest but everyone in the room knew that she wouldn’t be daunted by Grendel’s
size. 

Her face
twisted into an ugly sneer when they faced each other in the centre of the
floor.  Leo’s curt order for them to begin had barely left his lips when
she sprang forward and rammed a boot into his belly.  Grendel grunted at
the contact but didn’t stumble or even flinch; he merely growled and swung out
a massive fist, catching Columbine around the side of her head with a force
that sent her staggering back.  Spitting a mouthful of blood onto the
floor, she bared her teeth at Grendel and flung herself at him with her fingers
curled into claws.

Grendel didn’t
even try to move out of the way but simply grabbed her belt as she rushed at
him, lifting her above his head to hold her there, writhing furiously. 
The sight of her struggling and swearing caused a ripple of laughter to run
around the room, easing the tension.  With a sudden roar Grendel dropped
Columbine onto the floor and lifted his boot to stamp down and end the fight
but his boot landed on nothing but the padded floor.  Columbine had rolled
away and sprung to her feet.  Before Grendel could do anything more than
grunt in surprise she flew at him.  Grabbing his ankle she tugged sharply
and sent him sprawling backwards onto the floor and was on him in a heartbeat,
kneeling on his chest and wrapping her strong fingers around his windpipe in a
crushing grip, her snarling face inches from his.  He choked just once
then reached up with one massive hand and swiped her away like an irksome fly,
sending her flying through the air to crash against the back wall of the room.

‘Time!’

Leo barked out
the order before Columbine could attack again.  He had seen enough. 
Nobody could cope with Grendel for long.

Leo’s icy blue
gaze swept the assembled row of waiting apprentices again.  A flicker of something
passed over his face and Mistral instantly knew that he was going to call her
out.

‘Mistral!’

She rose to
her feet and began to walk towards the centre of the floor.

‘And Saul!’

Mistral felt
herself falter half a step and glanced at Saul.  He avoided her gaze,
keeping his eyes downcast while he walked to the centre of the floor.  She
stared at him, willing him to meet her eyes so that she could somehow convey to
him to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible, but he kept his
gaze averted.

‘Begin!’ 
Leo snapped in a cold voice.

Exhaling the
breath she had been holding Mistral immediately stepped forward.  Saul
mirrored her move, stepping back and then to the side to keep out of reach, his
hands hanging limply by his sides.  Mistral quickly realised that Saul was
just going to evade every effort she made to engage him and probably fail his
Qualification in the process.

‘Come on
Saul!’ she hissed under her breath and stepped forward again. 

He didn’t
respond and slid back another pace.

‘Damn it
Saul!’

Finally
lifting his eyes to meet hers, Mistral saw the look of resignation in them and
shook her head angrily, ‘You are not failing because of me!’  she growled
and immediately feinted to the left. 

When Saul
moved the other way she slipped around behind him and quickly wrapped her right
arm around his throat.  Pressing her left hand against the back of his
head, Mistral locked him into a choke hold.  Saul made no move to dislodge
her and Mistral knew for certain that he would rather fail the bout than work
with her. 

‘Are you just
going to give up on me?’  she muttered angrily in his ear.

‘Never.’

Grasping her
arm in a hard grip he pulled sharply, releasing the pressure against his throat
enough to allow him to tuck his chin down and force her arm away, at the same
time driving an elbow into her ribs.

Mistral
flinched away from the glancing blow and lifted her boot to kick him in the
back of the knee, knocking him down to the floor.  Dropping down with him
without relinquishing her hold on his throat she shifted her position to
tighten her grip and began to squeeze, expecting to hear Leo‘s shout for their
bout to end.  A split-second passed, then another and Mistral realised
that Leo was going to make her choke Saul to unconsciousness.  With an
angry hiss she released her grip and stood upright.  Saul rolled over,
gasping for breath, his eyes bloodshot. 

‘I don’t
recall telling you to break.’  Leo’s dispassionate voice carried clearly
in the stunned silence of the room.

Mistral shot
him a look of pure contempt and reached out her hand to Saul.  Holding her
gaze he took the hand she offered and pulled himself upright.

Wordlessly
Saul and Mistral walked back to their places and sat back down.  

‘Golden and
Phantasm!’  Leo’s voice rang out immediately.

Phantasm
muttered a curse under his breath then sprang lightly to his feet and strode to
the centre of the floor.  The half-nymph took her time rising to her feet
and straightening her shirt, flipping her long hair over one shoulder she finally
walked over to join him.

‘They look
like they’re going to dance, not fight!’  Brutus muttered, causing a few
stifled laughs.

‘Begin!’ 
Leo bellowed, glaring furiously at Brutus. 

Golden smiled
and beckoned Phantasm forward with a crooked finger.  Wooden-faced,
Phantasm stepped towards her then slipped to the side to attempt a choke hold
similar to the one Mistral had put Saul into, but Golden was too quick for
him.  Sliding from beneath his grasp with a tinkling laugh she let her
fingers trail down his arm as she moved away.  Phantasm jerked away from
her touch with a look of revulsion and backed off to wait for her to
attack.  She circled him slowly, smiling seductively then leapt at him
with sudden ferociousness, her fingers bent like claws to rake down his
face.  Phantasm arched backwards so that Golden’s nails snagged uselessly
into his shirt then shoved her away.

Golden landed
in an elegant heap on the floor.  Tossing her hair away from her face, she
glared at Phantasm thought slitted eyes and gathered herself into a
crouch.  Springing forwards with an angry shriek she grabbed his ankles
and pulled them from under him.  With a cry of surprise Phantasm
overbalanced and fell backwards.  In one lithe movement Golden was knelt
astride him with her hands wrapped around his throat.  Phantasm made no
effort to defend himself and kept his gaze averted from hers; he wanted the
bout over with as quickly as possible.

Realising that
he was going to submit easily Golden gave another peal of laughter and bent her
head close to Phantasm’s.  She let her hair fall in a curtain, shielding
them from the apprentices but leaving Leo with a clear view.  Keeping her
sapphire blue eyes locked on Leo’s, she bent and deliberately kissed Phantasm
on the lips.

Phantasm
choked and twisted his head to spit onto the floor.  Shoving Golden off he
sprang to his feet and stalked furiously back to his place against the wall.

Leo watched
Golden walk back to take her place against the wall with a thunderous
expression on his face.

‘I think she’s
overstepped the mark this time,’ Phantom breathed to Mistral while he and the
other apprentices eyed Leo’s furious face in awestruck silence.

‘Phantom and
Cain!’  Leo yelled.

The morning
wore by with each of the apprentices taking part in bouts with each other until
they had all been matched.  Columbine’s bout with Mistral had been lively
but short with Mistral delivering a heavy stamp into Columbine’s knee as her
first move, effectively ending the round before it had even begun.  When
Columbine had crumpled to the floor Cyrus had been ordered to carry her to the
Infirmary.  She had writhed furiously in his reluctant grip, screaming and
cursing at Mistral the whole time.  It had been very satisfying. 

By lunchtime
all of the apprentices had pounding headaches and would rather have retired to
The Cloak and Dagger for a liquid lunch than sample the delights that
Bernadette had prepared for them.  But, under the wrathful gaze of their
Training Captain, they had all dutifully filed down the stairs and into the
Refectory, grouping together around the counter to discuss the morning’s events
in hushed whispers.  Golden’s now obvious affair with Leo was the hot
topic of conversation and Mistral smiled while she watched Xerxes collecting
money from a rueful-looking Cain.

‘What was
Golden thinking?’  Phantom muttered to Mistral, shaking his head. 

Phantasm
looked as though he had been carved out of stone.  He had not spoken since
their bout and refused to eat anything until he had rinsed his mouth out several
times with water. 

Mistral
shrugged dismissively, ‘Don’t ask me, I’ve no idea what’s going on in that
empty space between her ears.’

They collected
bowls of vegetable soup and walked to the nearest table, sitting down and
continuing their conversation.

‘I think she’s
trying to make him jealous to make sure he approves her application for a
second year.’  Phantom said thoughtfully. 

‘Leo doesn’t
strike me as the possessive type,’ argued Mistral, spooning soup into her
mouth.

‘He won’t let
you go though, will he?’  Phantom pointed out bluntly.

Mistral
scowled, ‘The minute my apprenticeship is served I’m out of here and there’s
nothing he can do to stop me.’

‘Was she a
good kisser Phantasm?’  Xerxes asked, leering at Phantasm across the
table.

Phantasm closed
his eyes and shuddered, ‘It was utterly vile.  That basilisk in the bottle
was preferable.’

Xerxes roared
with laughter and moved off to sit beside Cain and Brutus.  Mistral looked
up as Saul walked by to join them but he took his seat without even glancing in
her direction.

‘Bound to
happen, let it go,’ Phantom muttered to her under his breath.  ‘Leo was
just making a cruel point about not letting emotion interfere with work.’

‘Well I think
that one backfired on him, don’t you?’  Mistral hissed back.

‘Can we please
just drop that subject?’  Phantasm growled through gritted teeth. 

Columbine
appeared half-way through lunch, limping towards a table where Golden was
holding a long monologue with a bored looking Konrad.  His expression
instantly changed to a greedy smile when Columbine sat down beside him.

‘Look at
that!  Konrad’s in heaven when he’s around Columbine,’ Mistral whispered,
jerking her head towards the three apprentices.  ‘Fabian says drows feed
off misery and despair.  I bet she’s like starter, main course and dessert
to him at the moment!’

Mistral
watched Konrad for a moment then turned to Phantasm and Phantom, her face
suddenly serious, ‘Brothers?  I want you to know that I know how much you
did for me since I got back from The Desert Lands.  You put up with my
foul moods, you treated my injuries and you kept that parasitical drow away
from me – and I never thanked you.  I’ve been so ungrateful and I’m
sorry.’

Phantom and Phantasm
stared at her in stunned silence for a few seconds before Phantom exhaled
noisily.

‘Er, you’re
not about to die are you Mistral?’ 

‘Depends if I
get Columbine in swords this afternoon,’ she said grimly.

Phantasm
looked at her steadily, his green eyes holding hers while he smiled and Mistral
knew he understood that her apology had been for him, finishing the
conversation they had started on Sunday evening.

The
afternoon’s assessment of sword work passed swiftly.  They were in the
torchlit third floor room again and the combination of wearing full armour and
strenuous bouts soon had everyone dripping with sweat.  Before long the
unbearable stench of Grendel’s powerful odour filled the windowless room. 
Golden complained loudly to Leo but he ignored her.  When she persisted
Leo ordered her to work with Grendel in a fit of vindictiveness.  Mistral
smiled and easily parried a half-hearted strike from Saul; it looked like
Golden was finally falling from grace with their Training Captain. 

Mistral took advantage
of the noise of clashing swords to try to speak to Saul.  Whether he heard
her or not, he gave no sign, but continued to drill with technical precision,
blocking and counter-striking like a text-book illustration.

‘No passion
Saul!’  Leo bellowed across the room. 

Saul shot him
a cold stare and continued to work at the same measured pace.  Mistral
matched him perfectly and didn’t try to up the tempo.  She didn’t know how
to make it right between them but instinctively felt that trying to kill him was
probably not the answer.  

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