The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (22 page)

She blinked and the illusion
vanished, leaving her gripped by apprehension.  Cursing her gift for
showing her what he was feeling but not why, she was left to stew over the
endless possibilities in silence.  Was it something to do with what
happened at the Council?  Did he think the Rochforte tribe would seek to
avenge Antoine and come looking for her?  That made sense … but what would
Fabian do if that were the case?  Would he become unbearably
over-protective again?  She quickly discounted that idea since it had
failed so magnificently with the cyclops incident.  No, knowing Fabian he
would probably go straight to the source of the problem and deal with it
directly.  Yes, that’s why he was so worried, he was going to tell that he
was leaving for France and was no doubt concerned about how much trouble she
would get into during his absence. 

Fabian ... away from her. 
She immediately felt desolate.  How long for?  Days obviously, maybe
weeks … or even months.  The thought of a prolonged separation left her
feeling miserable.  As the day wore by she found herself increasingly
grateful for the twins’ perpetual chatter, hiding her silence.  Prospero
denied her the excuse of going off alone to hunt by bringing her endless
rabbits until a string of them hung from her saddle.  They rode hard, keen
to be back in familiar territory and it was long after sunset when they finally
made camp.  Mistral sat beside the fire, quietly skinning her first
rabbit, saying little but pausing often to gaze morosely into the flames. 
Thankfully Fabian seemed to be brooding on his own thoughts too and didn’t
appear to notice her melancholy mood. 

After a half-hearted game of
knuckle bones Mistral announced her desire for an early night.  Wrapped in
her wolverine skin she hugged Prospero for comfort, wallowing in misery until
the sound of quiet footsteps told her that Fabian had come to join her.
 When he dropped down beside her she sat up and turned to look at him,
letting the misery in her face speak for her.

He abruptly frowned and stroked
her cheek, ‘Why have you been crying?’

‘I know what you’re going to tell
me tomorrow night, why you wanted to talk to me without the twins there. 
You’re going to France aren’t you?’

Fabian looked genuinely
surprised, ‘No, I am not going to France.  Why would you think that?’

‘Because the Rochfortes will want
to avenge Antoine and they’ll come for me of course!’ 

Fabian suddenly smiled and
Mistral felt her anger melt.  Who could be angry with that smile?

‘Eximius will deal with that
situation.  Besides, Antoine is of little consequence.  The
Rochfortes are notoriously mercenary.  There will be a queue of them
eagerly waiting to step into Antoine’s place.  Some of them might even
want to make the journey over here to find you and thank you personally.’

‘So ... you’re not leaving me
then?’  Mistral asked hesitantly.

Fabian paused for the length of a
heartbeat, his black stare burning into hers with searing intensity.

‘I swear to you that I will never
leave you.’

Mistral suddenly grinned, ‘Oh I’m
sure my endless charm and sunny nature will fill you with the urge to leave me
one day.  ‘But rest assured that if you do go, I will come and find
you.  I’m quite good at tracking now.’

Fabian laughed and pulled her
close, drawing her wolverine skin over them both.  They lay quietly
together, listening to the sound of the twins’ murmured conversation, too low
to hear the actual words it became a soothing background noise, like the
rushing of a shallow stream.  Mistral sighed in contentment and rested her
head against Fabian’s chest.  It was only when her mind had begun to drift
irreversibly towards sleep that she realised Fabian hadn’t actually told her
what was worrying him.

Mistral awoke to find Prospero
had crawled beneath her wolverine skin to avoid the night’s heavy dew
fall.  She pushed him out with her feet, laughing when he resisted and
wriggled up on his belly to poke his head out between her and Fabian.

‘Not quite the face I like to see
when I awake.’  Fabian grimaced and sat up quickly to avoid Prospero’s
breath.

‘Don’t worry boy.  I still
love you.’  Mistral reassured the happily panting dog and rubbed his ears.
 ‘What’s a bit of bad breath between friends anyway?’

‘A lot in his case.’  Fabian
remarked and reached for his boots. 

After a hasty breakfast of cold
rabbit they mounted up, riding beneath a cloudless pale blue sky to reach the
meadows by midday where they halted.  Here they would go their separate
ways.  Fabian issued the twins with instructions to only give Leo the
basic details of the Contract outcome, promising to be in the Valley the next
day and provide a fuller report.  And finally, they were alone. 

Mistral watched the twins
cantering away side by side and heaved a sigh of relief, ‘Thank heavens for
that!  Are my ears actually bleeding?  Because it feels like it to
me!’

‘They do like to talk.’
 Fabian agreed with a smile.

Mistral glanced at him and was
pleased to see that the brooding expression of last two days had gone, although
his aura still held the troubling tell-tale flashes of amethyst and
white. 

‘Do we need to hunt for something
to eat tonight?’ she asked brightly. 

‘Best to.  All we have in
the cellar is rabbit and I think we deserve something a bit more
appetising.  We’ll hunt on the way home.’

Home. 
Mistral nodded
happily and kicked Cirrus on.  ‘Hear that?’  she asked suddenly.

Fabian frowned,
concentrating.  After a moment he shook his head, ‘I can’t hear anything.’

‘I know.  Wonderful isn’t
it?’

They were nearly at the end of
the forest trial before Prospero flushed out a small deer and Fabian shot it
with his crossbow.  After finally persuading Prospero to let go of his
prize by lavishing him with praise and the promises of more hunts soon, their
dinner was strapped across the back of Mistral’s saddle.  Prospero seemed
unconvinced by her promises and immediately vanished off into the forests
again.  He had still not returned by the time Mistral and Fabian rode into
the courtyard of their house. 

‘He’s cross with me.’ 
Mistral sighed.

‘He’ll get over it.’  Fabian
muttered.

The sight of their honey-coloured
house washed away Mistral’s concern for a creature that blatantly needed
none.  Home.  She was home.  Smiling happily, she swung down
from the saddle and stretched gratefully.

‘I’m so stiff after all that
riding!’ she complained, rubbing her lower back. 

Fabian reached out to take
Cirrus’ reins, ‘I’ll stable Cirrus.  Why don’t you have a bath?’

Mistral glanced at him, instantly
suspicious, but his expression gave nothing away.  He smiled and turned
away, leading both horses towards the stables.  She watched him for a
moment then shrugged.  A long, hot soak was just what she needed and her
niggling doubts weren’t going to ruin it for her.  She walked quickly over
to the house before Fabian could change his mind and ask her to help and was
already reaching for her key as she ran up the short flight of steps to the
door.  

Inhaling the familiar scents of
wood and smoke Mistral made her way to the small kitchen and lit the
stove.  She wandered distractedly around the room, performing mindless
chores while she waited for the water to heat.  With nothing to occupy her
mind she found herself returning to the worrying emotions she had seen in
Fabian’s aura.  Her circular deliberations filled the time it took to heat
enough water for her bath.  She had just poured in the last pan when
Fabian returned from stabling the horses.  He sat down at the kitchen
table and began to skin the deer.

‘I’ll cook tonight,’ he
announced.

Mistral regarded him with
narrowed eyes; first stabling Cirrus for her while she prepared a bath and now
he was cooking?  She had the distinct feeling that Fabian was trying to
soften her up. 

‘Would you mind heating some
water for me too?’  Fabian asked, not looking up from the deer.

A bath?  Oh, he was
definitely up to something! 

Mistral left some water heating
on the stove and walked to the bathroom, closing the door she leaned back
against it with a sigh.  She loved the tiny bathroom, its dark wooden floor
and stone walls … and the bath!  It stood on clawed feet in the centre of
the room and was quite large, definitely big enough for two.

Mistral had never experienced the
luxury of soaking in a bath until staying at the mountain house.  She had
washed from a barrel of water outside when she lived in Nevelte and then
suffered the icy cold showers in the dorms.  At first she had been quietly
astounded that Fabian would have been bothered with something quite so
extravagant but now she’d seen the grand house of his childhood she realised it
was something he was used to. 

Mistral threw her clothes and
saddlebag over the wooden chair in the corner and slipped into the water with a
sigh of pleasure.  She closed her eyes and let the heat of the water
slowly ease her aching muscles.  After a few moments she opened her eyes
and gazed up at the low beamed ceiling, her mind returning to the matter of
what was troubling Fabian.  Chewing her lip thoughtfully she began to run
through all the possibilities.  He had obviously learned some piece of
information at the Council ... information that would upset her, hence all the
“put Mistral in a good mood” tactics.  She felt a stab of fear; had Fabian
heard news that one of her brothers had been killed?  Or was it Emiror? 
Was she back, professing undying love for the Mage she had once spurned? 
Oh please no.  Don’t let it be her, the beautiful sister of Mage Grapple
... thoughts of Mage Grapple led her off onto another track.  Was Fabian
in trouble for killing Guillane?  No.  She was sure it wasn’t
that.  Mage Grapple hadn’t been that bothered about Guillane.  Mage
Grapple.  He was the key here.  He had said something that hadn’t
made much sense.  Mistral frowned and trailed a hand through the steamy water. 
What had he said?  She racked her brains, recalling the grizzled Mage’s
snapped words to Fabian.

If you were so insulted by
Guillane’s words then you really should do something about it.

But what was there for Fabian to
do?  Guillane was dead by then, so Fabian had already done something about
it.  Mistral sighed and slid further down the bath to wash her hair. 
Well, whatever it was, she was sure she would find out soon enough.

Feeling more relaxed after her
long bath Mistral wrapped a towel around herself and walked over to retrieve
her saddlebag from the chair, leaving a trail of wet footprints across the
wooden floor.  She rummaged for clean clothes and finally pulled out a
neatly folded bundle, carefully packed by Phantasm.  She smiled, musing
that if his career at the Council failed then he would make someone an
excellent housekeeper.

‘Better?’  Fabian watched
her leave the bathroom and walk barefoot across the room to slide onto a chair
opposite him.

‘I love that bath.’  Mistral
sighed happily and sank her chin onto her hands to watch him cutting up the
meat.  ‘You do realise that it’s big enough for two don’t you?’ 

Fabian smiled, ‘Yes.  I hope
to put it to the test one day.’

Mistral held his ebony gaze,
deliberately dropping her voice to a whisper, ‘Today is good for me.’ 
 

The sound of water boiling over
on the stove broke the tension between them.

‘That’s just going to keep
boiling over if you don’t do something about it.’  Fabian eventually
murmured.

‘That makes two of us
then.’  Mistral threw him a haughty look and strode over to the
stove.  Wrapping a cloth around her hands she carried the heavy copper pan
through to the bathroom to refill the bath.  By the time she had boiled
enough water Fabian had finished preparing the meat and left to take his
bath.  Mistral watched him close the door and wondered what he would do if
she followed him.  Nothing maybe, but then he might do something. 
Anything.  Dragging herself out of hazy bath-related dreams she sighed deeply
and decided to get some fresh air.

She opened the long narrow doors
and stepped out onto the balcony.  The air was soft, the light fading to
early evening.  Soon it would be cold, but for now it was pleasant. 
She leaned her hands against the balustrade and drew in a deep breath of balmy
air, heavy with the scent of pine trees, wild thyme and heather.  She
exhaled softly and gazed out at the view seen so many times, yet each was like
the first.  The lush sweep of the forested valleys swelling up to meet the
mighty mountains, their proud summits wreathed in crowns of whitest
cloud.  The irrational anxiety that had plagued her shrank into
insignificance in the face of such timeless majesty.   There was
nothing like looking at a mountain range old as the dawn of time to put things
into perspective. 

The sun had begun to drop in the
sky and Mistral smiled.  She loved the sunsets.  The west-facing
balcony had provided her and Fabian with many memorable evenings, quietly
sitting together and watching the colours of the setting sun fade away to let
night slowly creep across the sky.

A sound behind her made her
jump.  She turned sharply to see Prospero looking at her from the open
doorway with something dead hanging from his mouth.

‘You’re back!’ she exclaimed and
hurried over to pet him.  ‘I missed you!  What have you bought me?’

Prospero opened his mouth and
dropped the limp body to floor.  Mistral bent and picked up a dead
mink.  The dense fur was beautifully soft and seemed to be completely
unmarked by Prospero’s teeth. 

Mistral nodded appreciatively and
turned the body over in her hands, checking for puncture wounds, ‘Not a
scratch.  Well done boy.  This’ll make a good lining for my winter
gloves.’