The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (20 page)

Their Saturday
morning training session ended on a rather abrupt note when Grendel lost his
temper and flung his massive double-headed battle axe at the archery target
they had been using; cleaving it neatly in two.  He kicked the pile of
broken longbows lying at his feet, muttering curses under his breath and
Mistral distinctly heard the words ‘cheap elven rubbish’ amongst the
swearing. 

‘Don’t worry
Grendel, I’ll go to the armoury stores this afternoon and see if we’ve got any
sturdier longbows,’ called Cyrus in an amused voice. 

Grendel
grunted and stomped past the Training Lieutenant with his arms full of the
longbows he had snapped during practise.

Phantasm and
Phantom shared a wide-eyed look.

‘
Sturdier
longbows?  I could barely draw the string on mine,’ muttered Phantasm
dispiritedly.

‘He’d snapped
two before I had worked out how to fit an arrow,’ his brother added glumly.

Mistral hid a
smile and sat down beside them, resting her head back against the Arena’s
wooden fence to enjoy the warmth of the sun.  She enjoyed archery
practise.  In fact, she enjoyed all of the weaponry practise
sessions.  The twins struggled with the physical side of their
apprenticeships but Mistral valued their friendship too much to tease them
about it.  She knew their real strength lay in their strange power of
being able to influence others with their minds.

Training had
finished for the weekend and the rest of the apprentices were milling around
the Arena, sharing jokes and banter while they gathered up their various
scattered belongings ready to head off to The Cloak and Dagger.

‘First year
apprentices to my office,’ a loud voice barked abruptly.

Mistral looked
up to see the Contracts Officer, Gleacher Shacklock, standing by the entrance
to the Training Arena with a sheaf of parchments in his hand.

‘Contracts,
great,’ muttered Phantom grimly.  ‘I wonder what delights are in store for
us today.’

Mistral smiled
to herself and stood up, ‘C’mon brother, let’s go see if he’s got something
nice and easy for you today.’

‘Anything that
doesn’t involve blood and guts would suit me fine,’ grumbled Phantom, springing
lightly to his feet.

The relaxed
atmosphere suddenly vanished in a flurry of activity as everyone hastily
grabbed their belongings and hurried up the path after Gleacher.  First
years were gradually issued training Contracts as they became more accomplished
in the skills required, giving them valuable opportunities to practise and gain
field experience.  There was fierce competition over the Contracts they
were issued, everyone was eager to have a chance to prove themselves to
Gleacher in the hope that he would favour them with more high level work.

Mistral and the
twins followed the rest of the apprentices up the path to the Main Building and
joined the crowd of apprentices already crammed into the narrow corridor
outside Gleacher’s office. 

‘I’d better
not be given another damned knucker hunt,’ muttered Xerxes.  ‘You could
fill a wine cask with the amount of slime I’ve been covered by those vile
worms!’

‘Think
yourself lucky!  I had to roundup and destroy a massive outbreak of
spriggans at the Valley farm last week.  The little gits were hanging off
me like rats!  I tell you what, it damned well hurt!  They’ve got
really sharp teeth,’ Cain said pointing meaningfully to a number of small
bite-marks on his hands and arms.

The door
opened and an expectant hush immediately fell when Gleacher’s stern features
appeared in the doorway.

‘Right, let’s
see what we have here,’ he said, thumbing through the sheaf of Contracts in his
hand.

‘Golden?’

The half-nymph
looked up importantly.

‘A Council
member needs a bodyguard to attend a formal function tonight ... apparently the
one we sent last time wasn’t to his taste.’

A ripple of
laughter ran through the gathered apprentices; Grendel had been issued the last
bodyguard Contract.

Gleacher held
out the piece of parchment while Golden pushed her way to the front of the
crowd.

‘Thank you,’
she purred and batted her eyelashes at Gleacher who looked momentarily taken
aback but quickly regained his composure.

‘She just
can’t help herself can she?’  Phantasm muttered.

Phantom shook
his head disgustedly, ‘I think she would actually try and flirt with the dead.’

‘Brutus and
Cain; track and dispatch a knucker on the lower eastern meadow.’

Mistral heard
Xerxes let out a sigh of relief and smiled.  She had also dealt with a few
of the foul swamp dragons that infested the wet lowlands in droves and wasn’t
in a hurry to repeat the experience either.

‘Grendel …
let’s see … ah yes, an escaped herd of bonacon belonging to Maldita Pickering …
all the details are here –’

Grendel
grunted and lumbered forward to take the Contract.

‘Ah,’ Gleacher
paused and held up piece of parchment between his finger and thumb, as though
it was dirty.  ‘Konrad?’  he called, his eyes swept over the
remaining apprentices until he located the sullen features of the
apprentice. 

‘An
assassination,’ said Gleacher shortly.

A taut silence
fell across the group.  Assassination Contracts were one part of being a
warrior they all tried hard not to think about.  This was the first
Contract of that nature they had been offered.

Wordlessly
Konrad slipped to the front of the group and held out his hand for the
Contract, his dark face expressionless.  Mistral stole a glance at the
parchment as Konrad pushed past her.  It was written a strange brown
coloured ink.

Phantasm
caught her curious glance, ‘Blood,’ he whispered with a grimace.  ‘All
Assassination Contracts are traditionally written in it.’

‘Whose?’ 
Mistral whispered back, intrigued.

‘Whoever is
buying the Contract.  It’s symbolic; they must shed blood in recognition
of what they’re paying to be done.’

Gleacher continue
to dole out the Contracts to the apprentices until there was only Mistral, the
twins and Bali left standing before him.

He regarded
them thoughtfully for a moment, ‘Troll hunt?’ he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

‘I’ll take
it,’ said Mistral immediately, reaching out to take the last Contract in his
hand.  Gleacher lifted his hand slightly so that it was just out of her
reach.

‘Yes, I knew
you would want it Mistral, however,’ he paused.  ‘It would be remiss of me
to send just one apprentice to tackle a dangerous troll.’

Mistral felt
the twins recoil slightly at the word ‘dangerous.’

‘Bali,’
Gleacher turned to look at the quiet apprentice.  ‘I want you to lead a
team of four to hunt and destroy an adult male troll in the Western Range.’

Mistral’s face
looked stony at the news that Bali was the designated leader while the twins
shared a swift look of panic. 

‘Er, Master
Shacklock?  I’m not sure my brother and I possess the skills necessary to
be of any benefit to this particular expedition,’ Phantasm said quickly.

Gleacher fixed
him with a withering look.

‘Then it’s
time you developed them,’ he said coldly.  Turning his attention back to
Bali, Gleacher began to issue instructions.  ‘I want you to submit a
strategy to me by the end of this afternoon.  The hunt will take place
tomorrow; you leave at first light.  Please be aware that this is a
payment on delivery Contract, so I will need some proof, preferably the head.’

Bali nodded
calmly while the twins shared another horrified glance.

‘Bali, a quick
word in my office please.  That will be all,’ said Gleacher, curtly
dismissing Mistral and the twins.

As the office
door closed behind Bali and Gleacher, the twins looked miserably at each other.

‘A troll
hunt.  Oh how wonderful, just what I saw myself doing when I began my
apprenticeship,’ muttered Phantasm despondently.

‘Let’s go and
get some lunch.  It might be the last meal we get to eat,’ sighed Phantom.

The three
apprentices trailed off towards the Refectory with the twins still bemoaning
their bad luck at getting such a dangerous mission.

‘You’re
unusually quiet Mistral,’ said Phantasm suddenly.  ‘I’d have thought you
would be jumping for joy at the chance to chop the head off something nearly
twice your size, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’
 Mistral muttered sullenly.

The twins
frowned at her for a moment before giving joint sighs.

‘Ah, I think
somebody’s nose is a teensy bit out of joint at not being given the lead,’ said
Phantom in an aside to his brother.

‘Well, I just
don’t see what is so special about Bali that’s all,’ snapped Mistral.  ‘I
could lead the hunt just as well as him, if not better.’

‘Oh come on
Mistral,’ scoffed Phantasm.  ‘Bali lived for years with his elven tribe in
the Northern Range.  They’re famous for their fighting skills.  I
reckon he could probably teach Master Sphinx a thing or two about strategy and
battle!’

‘If he’s so
damned good then what’s he doing training with the Ri then, I mean he’s a bit
old
isn’t he?’  Mistrial continued, obviously determined to find fault with
Bali.

Phantasm
shrugged lightly, ‘I agree that Bali is more mature than the rest of the
apprentices, but surely even you can see that his extra years of experience are
going to be a good thing if he’s leading a troll hunt.’

Mistral halted
abruptly and spun to face Phantasm, ‘And you think I can’t lead a hunt to find
an eight foot tall creature that has the stealth skills of a drunken elephant
and smells like twenty over-ripe manure heaps?’

‘Yes, I am
quite sure you could lead the hunt to find the troll,’ said Phantasm smoothly. 
‘But I think Master Shacklock feels that Bali has the necessary experience to
actually bring us back again as well.’

 ‘Hopefully
alive,’ added Phantom under his breath.

‘Well thanks very
much for the vote of confidence,’ Mistral snapped and stomped off ahead of them
with a Golden-like toss of her hair.

Phantasm
rolled his eyes at his brother, ‘This afternoon is going to be a barrel of
laughs with her in that mood.’

‘Hmm, then
there’s just the small matter of dispatching a troll tomorrow,’ added Phantom
grimly.

They had
reached the Refectory, the long narrow room was full of apprentices having
lunch and discussing the Contracts they had been issued.  Golden’s voice
could clearly be heard above the rest boasting about how she had been
specifically requested to escort a high ranking Council official to a gala
ball.

‘What’s his
name Golden,’ called Phantasm in a politely interested voice while Phantom sat
down next to Mistral.

Mistral eyed
him suspiciously for a second before replying, ‘Trophimius Mogg.’

‘Ah yes, the
well-respected Assistant to the Head of Sanitation, a most ... fragrant man.’
 Phantom smiled sweetly then sat down on the bench next to his brother
with his back to Golden.

Mistral
stifled a laugh at Golden’s furious expression.  She caught Mistral’s
amused look and quickly turned away with a flip of her long blonde hair.

‘What’s for
lunch?’  Phantasm asked and leaned across the table to lift the lid on the
large earthenware pot.

‘Not been that
brave yet, sorry,’ Mistral replied and watched him cautiously dipping a ladle
into the steaming contents. 

He sniffed the
slightly fusty aroma that drifted out and sighed with relief, ‘Ah, sprout
soup.’

‘Thank
goodness for that!  I have no idea what meat was in yesterday’s stew but
I’m sure I found a beak in mine,’ said Phantom accepting a bowlful from his
brother.

Bali arrived
and sat down quietly at their table, waiting patiently until they had all
finished eating.

‘Are we ready
to work out a plan?’ he asked when Mistral finally pushed her empty bowl away.

‘Can’t wait,’
said Phantasm, smiling politely.

The four
apprentices spent the rest of the afternoon in the Refectory working out a
strategy for the hunt.  Mistral was all for a frontal attack with swords.

‘The legs, the
legs!’ she kept repeating angrily.  ‘Just go for the legs.  Once he’s
down we can hack his head off!’

The twins were
inclined for a more subtle approach.  They suggested digging a large hole,
covering it with thin planks of wood and tethering a live goat on top as bait
then coming back a week later to see if the troll had fallen in. 

Bali sat
quietly listening to the three argue and didn’t interrupt until Mistral started
to lose her temper at the twins.

‘Oh for pity’s
sake why don’t you just send the damned troll a strongly worded letter
recommending that he moves out of the area?’

‘Enough,’ said
Bali calmly and paused to fix Mistral with a hard look when she opened her
mouth to continue arguing.  ‘Here is the plan,’ he continued quietly and
leaned forward in his chair with a serious expression on his face. 
‘Firstly, we locate the lair.’