The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) Read Free Page A

glare.
    ‘Brothertoft,
I do not have the Craft.  Can we drop the subject?  Only I’ve got
three more of these to skin.’
    Brothertoft
sighed and gazed into his tankard, turning it gently in his gnarled hands.
    ‘Elnora says
that when the rest of the village find out you don’t have the Craft they’ll run
you out.’
    Mistral
shrugged disinterestedly, she already practically lived in the forests anyway.
    ‘She wants me
to send you to the Valley of the Ri to train,’ Brothertoft finished quietly.
    Mistral looked
at him.  The Valley of the Ri?  She’d heard the village children
discussing it in hushed tones, as though it were something to be afraid of.
    ‘Have you
heard of it?’  Brothertoft asked, looking at her carefully.
    Mistral
shrugged, ‘Village kids tell stories about a place that trains thieves and
assassins –’
    Brothertoft
scowled, ‘They do more than that.  The Valley of Ri train hunters, and
trackers too, something you would be a very good at,’ he nodded towards the bag
of rabbits.  
    Mistral said
nothing but continued to gaze at him, her dark eyes wide in her expressionless
pale face.
    ‘The Ri are a
sanctuary for,’ he paused and shot her an almost apologetic look,
‘half-breeds.  They train them as warriors … I think they call them that …
anyway, these warriors provide a valuable service to the Isle,’ he said with a
proud note of defiance in his voice, almost as though he were trying to
convince himself, not Mistral.  ‘And the warriors get paid for the work
they do … Contracts or something they call them –’
    Mistral’s eyes
shone as she listened to the old man speak.  Escape from Nevelte? 
Train to be a warrior?  Get paid for hunting and tracking; something she
could do by second nature?  She only had one question –
    ‘How do I get
there?’
    Brothertoft
regarded her for a moment, ‘Is there nothing you want to stay here for?’
    Mistral didn’t
even pause to think. 
    ‘No.’
    ‘No-one?
 A boy perhaps?’  Brothertoft tried again in a slightly hesitant
voice.
    Mistral looked
at him as though he had just suggested she take up ballet dancing, ‘No,’ she
repeated in an icy voice. 
    Brothertoft
sighed deeply and reached inside his leather jerkin, bringing out a small
leather purse bulging with coins.
    ‘I went to
market and sold your skins.  You’ll need money in the Valley,’ he said,
placing the purse onto the table with a dull thud.
    Mistral’s eyes
flashed.  The chance to buy some decent knives at last!  The hunting
knife she used was Brothertoft’s old one and had seen better days.
    Mistral
reached across and collected the purse of money without comment. 
    ‘The bear skin
fetched quite a bit,’ Brothertoft said, eyeing the bag of coins
wistfully.  It held more money in it than he saw in a year. 
    Mistral
nodded, opening the purse and peering inside curiously before suddenly looking
up sharply, ‘You didn’t sell the wolf pelt did you?  Only I’ll need it for
travelling –’
    Brothertoft
shook his head and pointed to the door that lead to the cottage’s two tiny
bedrooms.  A full leather saddlebag lay by the door.
    ‘Elnora packed
it for you along with the rest of your belongings.’
    ‘Good,’ said
Mistral, picking up her knife and resuming her task with sudden
enthusiasm.  ‘So how do I get to this Valley then?’
    Brothertoft was
silent for a moment and the sound of Mistral skinning rabbits once again filled
the small kitchen.
    ‘I’ve never
been there … but the Valley is rumoured to lie in the west of the Isle, beyond
The Velvet Forests.’
    Mistral
nodded, not looking up from her work, ‘Easy enough.  About two days ride
then,’ she said in a satisfied voice.
    Brothertoft
looked up sharply, ‘I think you’d better go on foot Mistral, I can’t afford to
pay for any horse you decide to “borrow”!’
    A mutinous
expression flashed across Mistral’s face, she hated to be told what to do,
‘It’s too far to