The Seer (21 page)

‘I feel better,’ she agreed with an expression that suggested it was
something of a revelation to her.  ‘But can we please eat?  I’m
famished!’

Fabian laughed and unlatched the heavy door, pushing it open he stepped
aside to allow Mistral into the lively noise of the tavern.  She paused
and looked around for her brothers while she waited for Fabian to close the
door.  The first thing that struck her was the heat.  A fire was
blazing in a large fireplace at the back of the room with most of the tables
arranged to benefit directly from its almost unbearable heat.  It seemed
to Mistral as though the village’s entire male population were crammed into the
overheated tavern and the noise level was such that she didn’t hear Fabian
speak until he took her hand to gain her attention.

‘This way.’  Fabian nodded towards a table set at the back of the
room, furthest away from the furnace-like heat of the fire. 

Mistral could dimly make out Grendel’s bulk through the haze of smoke
hanging in the air.  He was hunched forwards onto the table and Mistral
wondered why until she realised that the bowed ceiling was so low he couldn’t
sit upright without grazing his head on the jumble of copper pans hanging from
each beam.  There was no sign of the two Council Mages.  Grendel was
playing cards with the twins, Cain and Brutus but Xerxes was sat in the
shadowed corner where the light from the fire couldn’t reach.  Mistral was
amused to see that he still had the hood of his cloak pulled up.

‘Looks like Xerxes is still trying to remain incognito,’ she whispered to
Fabian, holding his hand tightly while she followed him through the tightly
packed tables. 

Fabian glanced at the half-elf and murmured back a soft reply, ‘Mountain
tribes are notoriously proud, not to mention insular.  Xerxes’ actions
will have caused great offense.  I am sure that despite his efforts to
remain unrecognised something will be said to him before the evening is out. ’

Several of the elves nodded greetings to Fabian and glanced curiously at
Prospero but did not speak or look at Mistral, for which she was
relieved.  To be introduced as Fabian’s wife and no doubt then be referred
to as Lady De Winter again was probably more than her temper would stand on an
empty stomach.   She kept her eyes fixed on Fabian until they reached
the table where her brothers were waiting expectantly for them.

‘Thank the stars you’re here!’  Xerxes hissed in a loud whisper from
the depths of his hood.  ‘Hurry up and sit down will you?  I need you
to block me from view!  I’ve asked Grendel twice but he says he can’t
move, something about a copper kettle hitting his head if he does!’

The twins met Mistral’s amused look with broad grins, blatantly enjoying
Xerxes discomfiture.  ‘We took the liberty of choosing a drink for you.’
 Phantasm pushed two battered pewter tankards towards Fabian and Mistral.

‘Yes, the selection was so wide and varied that we struggled to decide,
however I think you’ll find the choice we finally made to be acceptable to your
discerning palate.’  Phantom added with an elegant hiccup.

Mistral gave him a sharp look and took a tentative sip from her tankard,
‘Eugh,’ she pulled a face.  ‘Cider!’

‘Hmm.’  Phantom agreed with a lopsided smile.  ‘Strong too –’

The door to the tavern banged open with a force that immediately drew the
startled attention of every occupant.  Mistral turned in her chair to see
an imposing elven woman standing in the doorway, her hands clenched into fists
on her hips.  Her penetrating blue eyes raked the room until they alighted
on their table.  She immediately let out an audible snort of disgust and
began to march purposefully towards them, ignoring the fact that an almost
reverent hush had fallen across the entire tavern.  Every pair of eyes in
the room followed her progress, moving silently aside to allow her to stride
through unimpeded.

‘Oh, please … no.’  Xerxes moaned pathetically and shrank further back
into the shadows of his corner.

Brutus heaved a deep sigh of resignation and rose wearily to his feet, ‘Ah,
brothers, sister … Mage De Winter … I would like you to meet our mother,
Diannah.’

‘Well!’

Brutus flinched slightly as his mother halted in front of their table and
deliberately looked him up and down.  She was tall and lithe, like her
sons, with long blond hair swept back in a long plait to reveal blue eyes that
were blazing with anger.  ‘I was
told
,’ she paused and glared
furiously at Brutus and the still hooded Xerxes, making it perfectly clear the
news should have been delivered by them in person and not some third party,
‘that my wayward sons had dared to return.’

‘How are you mother?’  Brutus enquired with a brave attempt at a
smile.

Diannah cut him dead with a look that would have defeated Leo’s most
glacial stare, ‘How am I?’  She repeated in wildly incredulous
tones.  The hush across the tavern deepened to a deathly silence as she
sucked in a deep breath and prepared to reply.  ‘You
pair
leave me
to deal with the
shame
of your behavior with not so much as a letter or
even a message in
two years
then you dare to stroll back in here, a pair
of big proud Ri warriors, and ask me
how I am
?’ 

Diannah’s voice had risen to a dangerously high pitch that Mistral
recognised as the onset of hysteria.  It was a state she had frequently
induced in both her adoptive parents.  She threw Fabian a wide-eyed look,
trying to communicate silently that they should leave before the crockery
throwing started, but he was gazing steadily at the inside of his tankard, his
expression carefully neutral.  Sensing her look, he reached over and took
hold of her hand, the tiniest hint of a smile touching the corners of his
mouth.

Let Diannah have her say.

Mistral listened to his unspoken thought and nodded fractionally.  She
quickly returned her gaze to her own untouched tankard of cider to prevent
herself from goggling at the frightening sight of Diannah in full flow.

‘And you can take that hood down Xerxes!  I know it’s you cowering
under there!’  Diannah shrieked.

Xerxes lowered his hood with trembling hands and slowly lifted his gaze to
meet his mother’s querulous look.  She exhaled slowly in a long hissing
sound not dissimilar to that of an attacking viper and glared at her son. 
Xerxes seemed to shrivel and wilt under the intensity of her stare; he licked
his lips nervously.  ‘Er, d-did you hear that we competed in the Festival
of the Arcane?’  He stuttered in an unrecognisable squeak.

Diannah continued to glare at him in silence.

‘We – we thought you’d be proud –’ he mumbled faintly. 

Diannah suddenly seemed to swell like an angry bullfrog, ‘Proud?’  She
shouted.  ‘Proud?  I would be
proud
if my son
had
managed to keep the promise he made to the chieftain’s daughter and marry her
instead of being caught on the morning of their wedding in bed with her
sister!  Just what is so difficult about being a good husband?  Yet
none of the men in my life seemed to be able to accomplish that one simple
task!’  She threw her hands up in the air in a despairing gesture, her
voice suddenly wavering with the promise of tears.  ‘Despite all my hard
work you’ve turned out no better than your feckless father!’

Xerxes cringed.  This was clearly a familiar line of attack. 
‘And how is Elspeth?’  He blurted in a desperate attempt to divert her.

Diannah abruptly stopped crying and stiffened, ‘Elspeth?’  She hissed
in a dangerous whisper.  ‘You want to know how our dog is?  I’ll tell
you shall I?  She’s still dead … she died about five years ago as well you
know!’

Xerxes met Brutus’ reproachful look with one of panic and back-tracked
swiftly, ‘Er, I meant … Elizabeth!’  He cried with a pleased expression on
his face.

‘She has a son.’  Diannah said shortly.

‘Oh she married then did she?’  Xerxes asked, looking mildly relieved.

‘No.’

‘What?’  Xerxes blinked in surprise.  Brutus threw him a warning
look which he missed and blundered blithely on.  ‘That’s a bit scandalous
isn’t it?’  He laughed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms
across his chest.  ‘Certainly puts my little misdemeanor firmly in the
shade!’

Diannah favored him with a scornful look, ‘The son looks just like you.’

Xerxes froze, his mouth hanging open in horror.  Cain could clearly be
heard crying with laughter into his tankard.  Mistral kept her gaze firmly
fixed on the tabletop, not daring to make eye contact with any of them. 
She could hear the sheer glee in the twins’ thoughts and risked a glance at
Fabian.  As usual, his expression was completely inscrutable but his thoughts
were full of wry amusement.

‘Perhaps you’ll take the time to visit.’  Diannah continued
icily.  ‘I’m sure both Elsa and Elizabeth would like to introduce you to
their sons.’  

‘E-Elsa has a son too?’  Xerxes whimpered. 

Diannah nodded, and raised an eyebrow coldly.

Across the other side of the room, someone started laughing, a deep
rumbling roar that echoed around the tavern until suddenly everyone was joining
in.  Xerxes stared around, completely bewildered to be the cause of such
merriment until Castor strode over to the table, his blue eyes gleaming with
humor.  He slapped Brutus slightly too heartily on the back and grinned
over at a terrified looking Xerxes.

‘Diannah is mocking you Xerxes.  Both of my daughters are now quite
happily married, but as of yet have not been blessed with children.’

‘C-congratulations Chieftain Greenoak … please, pass on my best wishes to
all of your family.’  Xerxes managed to mumble.

Mistral glanced up at Castor in surprise … he was the chieftain? 
Without the disguise of a heavy cloak and hood, Castor had the unmistakable air
of someone used to power and respect.  He turned to Diannah and spoke
quietly to her, she immediately nodded meekly and kept her head bowed until he
turned away to speak with Fabian.  ‘Brother, perhaps you would join me for
a drink at my table?  There are a few matters I would like to take this
opportunity to discuss with you.’  Giving Mistral a polite nod, Castor
turned and strode back across the room without waiting for Fabian’s response.  

Fabian pushed back his chair and began to rise, quickly whispering in
Mistral’s ear as he stood up, ‘I will be back soon.  Listen if you wish
to, however I’m sure there is nothing that will be of any interest,
unfortunately – ’

Mistral frowned in puzzlement and opened her mouth to ask him what he
meant, but he was already gone, moving quickly through the knot of people to
find Castor.  She watched him walk away, listening intently to his
thoughts and quickly realised what he’d meant.  His thoughts were already
full of some statute the elven ambassador at the Council was in the process of
contesting.  She suppressed a sigh and turned her attention back to their
table.  Diannah had thawed slightly and was bemoaning her sons’
appearances.

‘Really Brutus, your hair does need a trim, and Xerxes!  You look like
you haven’t had a shave for days!’  She exclaimed.  ‘Why can’t you
just find a good woman to look after you?’

‘I am trying mother.’  Xerxes replied honestly. 

‘Really hard.’  Brutus added in a low aside.

‘He actually holds auditions every Saturday night in The Cloak.’  Cain
added helpfully then yelped as Xerxes’ heavy boot connected with his shin.

Diannah shook her head with an expression of resigned affection on her
face, ‘It is good to see you, my sons,’ she said proudly and then sighed. 
‘But you were always destined to be trouble.’

‘Nothing has changed there, I can assure you.’  Cain muttered, giving
Xerxes a foul look. 

‘I must go.’  Diannah said suddenly, casting an anxious look over her
shoulder to where Castor could be seen talking at a table with Fabian. 
‘Chieftain Greenoak has been most generous in permitting my presence here this
evening, but I really feel it’s time I was going now.’

Mistral frowned and looked around the tavern; several of the elves were
giving Diannah unwelcome looks, some even bordering on openly hostile.

‘We’ll escort you home mother.’  Brutus rose obediently and began to
walk her to the door.  After a moment’s hesitation, Xerxes scrambled from
his seat and hurried after them.   Mistral watched them go with a
frown.  She was unwilling to read their thoughts, knowing that they were
going to be full of personal matters, but so much of the exchange between
Diannah and her sons had left her feeling puzzled.

‘Ah, now who’s turn is it to have questions answered?’  Phantom
whispered smugly in her ear.

Mistral turned her head to whisper back, ‘Tell me what I need to know and
don’t get all condescending on me,’ she leaned closer to add in a vicious
undertone, ‘or I might feel the need to start discussing the finer points of
Mage Hibbert’s artwork!’

‘There’s no need for threats Mistral!’  Phantom muttered and quickly
buried his face in his tankard.

Mistral waited impatiently for him to finish his drink but was thwarted
from having her questions answered by the arrival of a huge wooden platter of
meat.  Closing her eyes she inhaled the rich aroma of roasted boar and was
pleased when her stomach gave a hungry rumble instead of a queasy roll. 
‘Oh thank heavens for that!’  She exclaimed and hungrily tore off a piece
of the hot meat.  ‘I’m starving!’