The Seer (115 page)

‘I know!  That was ages ago!  At least now you’ve moved back
to the village I’ll be able to see him every day.’

‘You’ll be seeing him quite a bit more when I take that vampire
Contract.’  Mistral muttered.

‘Fine by me, I’ve got loads of stories to tell him.’  Phantom
smiled then slipped an arm around her shoulders to whisper in her ear.
 ‘Have you seen Gemma?’

Mistral followed his gaze to see Gemma stood by the bar with a pitcher
of ale and a tankard in front of her, filling one from the other and emptying
it just as fast.

‘I think she might need a female shoulder to cry on –’

‘Get Serenity then, because I fall seriously short in the agony aunt
stakes!’  Mistral hissed back.

‘Get over there sister.’  Phantom muttered, giving her a shove in
the small of her back and sending her stumbling over to where Gemma was
standing, staring morosely at the half-empty tankard in her hands.

Placing her own tankard of ale down onto the bar, Mistral glanced at
Gemma’s to see if she should offer to top it up and noticed the cause of her
bleakness.  A band of gold inset with a semi-circle of small diamonds
encircled the third finger of her left hand.

‘Nice ring.’  Mistral commented drily.

‘Likewise.’  Gemma replied, lifting an eyebrow at Mistral’s
glittering display of diamonds.

Mistral laughed and reached for the pitcher of ale to top up their
tankards, ‘Don’t tell Fabian, but I hate jewellery.’

Gemma smiled and raised her tankard, ‘Don’t tell Samson, but so do I …
this design is meant to be a horseshoe,’ she sighed, waving her left hand at
Mistral to show her the ring.  ‘An engagement ring!  Can you believe
it?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid I can.’  Mistral sighed, looking at the obscenely
huge diamonds on her own finger.  ‘I would trust Fabian with my life and I
will have as many children as he wants, but I would much rather have had a new
set of throwing knives than another damned ring!’

‘At least throwing knives would be useful.’  Gemma agreed and
raised her tankard in a toast to Mistral.

‘So, when are you getting married?’  Mistral asked after they had
both taken a long drink.

Gemma bent her head close to Mistral’s to whisper quietly, ‘Put it like
this, it’s going to be a long engagement, unless you’re that keen to be a
bridesmaid –’

‘Not really!’  Mistral laughed and reached out to fill both their
tankards again.  ‘So, here’s to an eternal engagement!’

‘I knew they’d get on, with a little help.’  Phantasm said in a
satisfied voice, watching Mistral and Gemma bend their heads together in
laughter.

‘Hmm, I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing.’  Cain remarked, then
shrugged.  ‘But what the hell, neither of them are my problem!’

‘I’m all for the bachelor life too brother.’  Phantom
agreed.  ‘Which is unfortunately looking like it might be ending soon for
Xerxes.’

Phantom and Cain both gazed pitying at Xerxes while Marietta held
Mistral’s baby in her arms and smiled promisingly at him.

‘Oh dear.’

‘Is she insane?’

‘No brother, that would credit her with having a mind to lose in the
first place.’  Cain replied.  ‘She’s just Marietta.’

‘I thought the smell of wet dog would’ve put her off a bit.’
 Brutus said, joining them with a brimming tankard in his hand.

‘Yes, I did observe the spectacle of Xerxes trying to tackle Prospero
to the ground for an enforced bath earlier.’  Phantom laughed. 

‘Damn!  That was funny!’

‘He didn’t seem to think so.’  Cain remarked.

‘No, but when has Xerxes ever been able to laugh at himself?’ 
Brutus grinned.

‘Never brother, he left that pleasure to us.’

To save Floris from having a seizure every time his ill-fitting new
door was booted open by another guest arriving, they wedged it open.  The
cool autumn-scented air drifted across the tavern, bringing Mistral’s thoughts
back to the night in the forests and the fact that she and Fabian still hadn’t
agreed on a name for their son.  Refusing another tankard of ale, Mistral
sighed and poured herself a glass of water from the jug Cain had pointedly
placed on the bar next to her.

‘Still can’t drink, huh?’  Samson grinned, making his way over to
stand between them. 

‘Three weeks and counting.’  Mistral muttered sourly and took a
drink of water. 

‘We’ll celebrate in style then, won’t we my fiancée?’  Samson
said, turning to plant a kiss on Gemma’s cheek.

‘Please … don’t call me that Samson.’

‘Well, how about my betrothed then?’

‘Not that either.’

‘My intended?’

‘No.’

‘Ah, you want to be my unintended?’ 

Gemma sighed and closed her eyes, ‘Can’t I just be me?’

‘My Gemma it is then.’  Samson grinned happily.

Mistral hid a smile and took another drink from her glass.  In
truth, she didn’t mind switching to water, her son’s Naming Ceremony was hardly
the time to get fully reacquainted with ale; especially since Imperato, Alyssa,
and Mage Grapple would be there.  Looking around the lively tavern Mistral
could see that she was apparently the only one embracing sobriety; Xerxes was
rocking her son in his arms and singing him a song that really wasn’t
appropriate, but he was laughing in delight at his uncle so she decided to let
it go.  Brutus had brought in an extremely clean Prospero to show off and
had even managed to somehow persuade him to have a large bow tied around his
neck.  Revelling in all the attention, Prospero was stood on his hind legs
licking Brutus’ face.  Mistral grimaced in sympathy, having been on the
receiving end of his breath on many occasion then smiled, reflecting that
Brutus’ wasn’t always the most fragrant either.  Gleacher had arrived and
was stood near to them, but far from dampening the atmosphere with his usual
steely manner he was actually smiling whilst telling a story that was causing
an uproar of laughter.  Mistral smiled and let her eyes drift further
around the bar, everyone was there, Grendel, Liliana, all of the first years,
Clovis … and then there was Fabian.  The swelling volume of noise faded
away as Mistral gazed across the room at him, mesmerised by the look on his
face.  She would happily bear him a hundred children if it meant she could
see that look of pure joy each time.  He suddenly turned to meet her look
and smiled; not his usual hidden smile but a glorious blaze that set her heart
alight.

‘Mistral?’

‘
Mistral!
’ 

Mistral blinked and turned slowly to meet Phantasm’s exasperated
gaze. 

‘What?’

‘I said, for the third time, that the centaurs have arrived!’

‘Oh?  Where are they?’  Mistral looked around vaguely.

‘Well they’re hardly likely to come in here, are they?  I’m not
sure they could get through the door for a start!’

‘Oh, right.’  Mistral nodded and looked across the tavern at
Fabian to watch him take their son from Xerxes only to have him immediately
snatched by Serenity, but Fabian didn’t seem to mind.  He was looking at
her again in a way that set her heart racing, his thoughts telling her quite
clearly that she had been right; the diamond pendant did draw too much
attention to her curves …

Phantasm regarded her vacantly smiling expression for a moment then
began to tap his foot impatiently, ‘I can see that you are having another one
of those disengaged moments, which is no doubt due to the fact that Mage De
Winter looks rather happy today, so I shall just tell you what you are going to
do now –’ 

‘No, I’m drinking water, but thanks anyway brother.’

Phantasm rolled his eyes and grabbed her firmly by the arms to propel
her across the room, muttering furiously in her ear, ‘You are going to get my
godson and take him outside to meet his grandparents, right this moment!’

Mistral was snapped out of her pleasant dream to find herself being
forced across the room and ordered to prise her son out of Serenity’s clinging
hold, who only reluctantly let him go when Mistral promised to return him
shortly.  Nestling him into her arms, Mistral smiled down at her beautiful
son and instantly forgot what she was meant to be doing.  When Fabian’s
arms wrapped around them both she looked up to see the same exalted look still lighting
his face, catapulting her straight back into her daydream.  A hundred
emotions tumbled through her mind, each defying the last with its depth and
complexity.  Completely incapable of expressing a single one of them,
Mistral simply gazed at Fabian and managed to mumble.  ‘Are you coming to
see Imperato and Alyssa?’

‘Yes.’  Fabian smiled, seeing the words she had meant to say in
her eyes.

Leaving the heady atmosphere of the tavern with Prospero following at
their heels, chewing contentedly on the bow that had been around his neck,
Fabian and Mistral stepped out into the sun-warmed square.  Moving her son
into the crook of one arm, she held Fabian’s hand while they walked towards the
imposing group of centaurs.  Dravite and Faris were stood behind Imperato,
the more slightly built figure of Alyssa pressed nervously by his side while he
conversed with Leo and Mage Grapple, for once without his usual entourage of
warlocks.  Alyssa’s anxious face broke into a tender smile at the sight of
her daughter and grandson.  Watching the swirling aura above her head
erupt into a sunburst of bright yellow then fade to pale green Mistral finally
began to fully comprehend the sacrifice she and Imperato had made all those
years ago.  Walking slowly towards them Mistral tried to imagine doing the
same; could she be selfless enough to give her son away to be raised by
strangers because it was right for him?  She looked down at the baby in
her arms to see him smiling back at her and knew without a shadow of a doubt that
she would never have the courage to do what they did. 

Alyssa did not speak when she and Fabian halted before them, but her
eyes filled with tears of happiness when Mistral silently offered her son to be
held.  Taking him in her arms, Alyssa smiled and gently stroked his cheek
with her finger, brushing away the tear that had fallen onto him. 

‘Congratulations my daughter, he is a strong and healthy baby. 
What have you named him?’

Mistral tore her gaze away from her son to look at Imperato.  He
was smiling proudly at her, waiting for her response.  She bit her lip and
glanced at Fabian who gave her a gentle smile and opened his mouth to reply.

‘We’re keeping it for the ceremony.’  Mistral said quickly and
shot Fabian an apologetic look for cutting him off. 

Imperato nodded wisely, ‘Name-giving should not be taken lightly. 
They should complement the nature of bearer and must be chosen carefully.’

Mistral suddenly thought of a question she had never even considered
before, ‘Did you name me ... erm, before –’ she faltered, not sure of how to
complete that particular sentence.

Imperato smiled, ‘Of course.  We chose a name that reflects your
strength and passion, a natural force that cannot be denied.  You are the
very essence of your name.’

‘Oh?  Er, what –’ 

‘We called you Mistral.’  Alyssa said, seeing her confused
look. 

‘Then … it was by complete coincidence that Brothertoft called me that
too?’  Mistral frowned.

‘There are no coincidences in this life my daughter, only –’

‘I know.  Destiny.’  Mistral finished wearily.  ‘I think
I’m finally beginning to get that one now.’  While Imperato and Alyssa
admired their grandson, Mistral slipped her hand into Fabian’s again and
whispered urgently in his ear.  ‘Sorry about interrupting you, but I really
need to talk to you about his name!’

He nodded but they were prevented from speaking any further by Mage
Grapple stepping forwards with a roll of parchment grasped in his hands.

‘Lady De Winter, De Winter, may I offer my congratulations on the birth
of your first child.’

‘Thank you for coming today Eximius.’  Fabian responded politely
while Mistral retrieved her son from Alyssa.

Turning to Mage Grapple she smiled and hesitantly offered her son to
him, ‘Would you like to meet him?’

‘I would be honoured,’ he said sincerely and passed the roll of
parchment to Fabian before gently taking hold of their son.

Mistral held her breath while she watched her son gazing up at the
heavily scarred face of the head of the Isle.  Would he be frightened? 
Samson’s features were nearly as ravaged, and her son only seemed to find them
amusing … she hoped he wouldn’t laugh at Mage Grapple, that might not be the
best start to his career as the most gifted being on the Isle. 

Demonstrating an understanding of the occasion’s gravity far beyond his
brief experience of life, the son and heir to the De Winter name reached up to
grasp one of Mage Grapple’s fingers and proceeded to hold a conversation with
him that only they and Mistral could hear.  She smiled and took hold of
Fabian’s hand again, interlacing her fingers tightly with his to let him know
that their son had handled his first meeting with the formidable Mage Grapple
perfectly.

Mage Grapple finally released a deep sigh and lifted his head to look at
Mistral with a wondering expression.

‘I know.’  Mistral said softly and took her son from him. 
‘It’s a bit overwhelming.’

‘Your son is exceptionally gifted,’ he murmured quietly.  ‘So much
that I may have to rethink my rash promise to your next born in case the same
is true there.’

‘I don’t think so!’  Mistral whispered back sharply.  ‘You
might be the only one scary enough to keep her in check!’

The sound of Mage Grapple’s rarely heard laughter rang out across the
village square.  Still smiling broadly he turned to Fabian and pointed at
the scroll of parchment held in his hands.  ‘At your request, the property
held by the De Winter estate in the south of the Isle has been sold.  The
sum is payable to you, and I have taken the liberty of adding an amount as a
gift to your son.’