The Seer (31 page)

‘You can tell him all about it when we get back.’
 Phantasm murmured consolingly.

‘Well I wish he was here too.’  Phantom
muttered, hauling savagely on the bestra’s rope harness to hurry the slow
creature along.  ‘His teeth would make this thing move a bit faster!’

The final part of the journey was a climb up to
their shooting positions.  Before they began their ascent Phantom led the
bestra to the point Fabian indicated and tethered the beast to a jutting
outcrop of rock.  Mistral watched him walk away from the bestra.  It
tried to follow, coming up short against its length of rope and snorting with
surprise.

‘I wish there were something else we could have
used as bait,’ she said unhappily.

‘Yes, it’s a shame the Mages are no longer with
us.  They’d have been ideal.’  Phantom sighed regretfully. 
‘Well, let’s look on the bright side,’ he gave her a sidelong look.  ‘If
you’re half as good with a bow as you pretend to be, then the dragons might not
even get a chance to try the taste of bestra meat.’

Mistral ignored his jibe, privately resolving to
do her very best to bring down any dragon that got close to the tethered
creature now lowering dolefully at them.

Fabian pointed out their routes up to a pair of
narrow ledges in the rockface above them.  The twins climbed up first,
scaling the rock with the same lithe grace with which they accomplished any
physical task. 

Satisfied that the twins had safely reached their ledge,
Fabian turned to Mistral, ‘I will climb after you.  Please … try to be
careful.’

Mistral raised an eyebrow in mock disdain and
walked over to start her climb.  Taking off her gloves and stuffing them
inside her jerkin while she studied the rough surface of the rock Mistral
quickly spotting a series of flaws running up to a larger vertical split. 
She immediately jumped up and rammed her fingers into the first crack, curling
her fingers into claws she clung on and braced her boots flat against the rock,
taking her weight while she prepared to push off and throw herself up to the
next set of holds.  She was not as swift or graceful in her ascent as the
twins, often taking unnecessary risks by reaching for a hold that was only just
within her reach when another one closer to her would have sufficed; but she
climbed with a fearless relish that made Fabian smile.  He watched her
reach the ledge then turn to wave at him with a wild grin.

Swinging both of their saddlebags and bows over
his shoulders, Fabian began to climb.  Mistral watched him from the ledge,
admiring the sinewy strength of his lean frame.  He didn’t waste energy on
reckless leaps like she did but was more economic, executing each move with a
calculated precision that brought him swiftly up to the ledge.

‘And now begins the boring part,’ she sighed,
taking her bow and saddlebag from him.

‘Waiting.’ Fabian smiled.  ‘A regrettable
part of every hunt, however, at least we have each other for company.’

Mistral looked up to meet his gaze.  His dark
eyes were shining,
exhilarated by danger. 
Unable to resist the lure of being alone with him,
she abruptly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Oh please!  You know we can see
you!  Can’t you ever behave?

Mistral ignored Phantom’s disdainful thoughts and
continued to pass the time in the best way she knew how.  Laughing softly,
Fabian pulled her closer and kissed her back, eventually reaching up to untwine
her hands from around his neck and push her firmly away.  She relinquished
her hold with a reluctant sigh.

‘You could prove too much of a distraction,’ he
smiled ruefully.  ‘An entire flock of dragons could have descended on us
then and I think I would have failed to notice.’

She grinned unrepentantly, ‘I’m sure the twins
would tell me if that happened.  Phantom’s already been whining in my ear
about behaving properly.’

‘I’m sure he has,’ murmured Fabian distractedly,
his attention already back on the hunt.  He looked over at the twins
first, and then checked the positions of the other warriors. 

Mistral sighed and knew that she had lost out to
business, but couldn’t really complain, considering the frankly amazing nature
of the business.  She followed his gaze to see Grendel’s huge bulk
dwarfing Cain’s slightly built frame on a ledge opposite.  Further around
to the left she could see Brutus and Xerxes, both were knelt, busily adjusting
the strings on their bows.  Elves and their bows, Mistral smiled to
herself and looked away to the north.  The mountains curved around in a
horseshoe shape, facing the dragon nest.  Mistral stared off into the
black peaks, watching intently for any signs of dragons.  The wind had
stayed light and kept its direction from the east.  It was perfect for
driving the bestra scent to the dragons, but what about the scent of the
warriors?

‘Will the dragons go for us?’  she asked
Fabian with a frown.

He shook his head, ‘The bestra have a much
stronger scent and present more of a meal than we do, although I confess to
being unsure of how they will react to Grendel.’

Mistral raised her eyebrows and looked over at
Grendel again, now tugging experimentally at the thick string of a specially
reinforced longbow, ‘Yes, he is rather … aromatic,’ she said then shrugged
unconcernedly.  ‘But I’m sure he’s up to the challenge if they decide to
have a go at him.  Grendel’s fairly indestructible.  It’s one of his
few redeeming features,’ she added with an affectionate smile.

Fabian looked at her and with a curious
expression, ‘You and your brothers Mistral; the bond you share.  It is
unique.  You are aware of that, aren’t you?’

Mistral looked at him in surprise, ‘Is it?  I
see the same between you and Samson.’

‘Ah, yes.  Samson and I go back a long way …
well, I think you probably know that now you hear my dreams, but that bond took
years to develop.  What you all share is instinctive.  I have truly
never seen it’s like before.’

She shrugged and avoided his gaze, the painful
memory of the brother that was missing casting a sudden shadow over her good
mood, ‘I think I’ll check in on Brutus.’  Mistral looked over at the
distant figure of Brutus and listened in to his thoughts, smiling at the
excitement in them, the irritation at Xerxes’ bossiness, the sudden desire for
something to eat only to be instantly washed away by excitement again. 
She sighed and broke the contact with his mind.  ‘No problems there. 
He’s thinking about killing things and eating; all perfectly normal.’

‘Good.’  Fabian said in a quietly satisfied
voice.  ‘Then I think we should prepare.’

They spent the next half an hour carefully dousing
their arrows in poison and checking their bows, talking little but working in
harmony, completely at ease with one another.  Reaching into her saddlebag
for her water skin Mistral saw a linen-wrapped parcel and realised that Phantasm
had packed food for her.  Smiling, she pulled it out and was reminded of
the day before, when she had been forced to admit the depths of her feelings
for the twins in order to break the spell.  Mulling over in her mind how
it was possible to love, but not be in love, she looked again at Fabian and was
instantly captivated by his serious expression, the determined line of his jaw,
the sharp planes of his face sweeping up to meet impossibly high
cheekbones  ... the way his pale skin contrasted so strongly with his dark
eyes and hair.  She sighed.  How could she ever love anyone but
him?  The angelic beauty of the twins paled into insignificance compared
to his brooding perfection.      

‘Do you think we’ll ever get the other half of our
honeymoon?’  she suddenly asked.

He turned to look at her and smiled slowly, ‘I
sincerely hope so.’

‘Oh good,’ she bit into some cold roast boar,
offering the other piece to him.

It began to snow as the morning wore by,
inconsequential flakes of white that clung to their fur hats and swirled
through the air.  They landed on the rock ledge to be teased into small
drifts by the bitter wind that blew in sudden gusts around them.  Mistral
distracted herself from the biting cold by listening to her brothers’ thoughts. 
At first she focused only on Brutus and the twins until she grew bored and
listened to Cain, smiling in amusement at his good-natured irritation at
Grendel … Grendel … his thoughts were enviably simplistic, a series of wants to
be assuaged by food or drink, the urge to hunt.  With some trepidation she
forced herself to listen to Xerxes and was pleasantly surprised to find him
utterly focused on the hunt.  He was taking his role as a party leader
very seriously.  She didn’t linger in his thoughts for fear that they
might suddenly take a more recreational turn and returned to the twins’
familiar flow of inane patter.

Fabian became an unmoving statue stood at the edge
of their rocky platform.  His eyes continually raked the northern face of
the mountain, seeking the glimmer of dragon skin.  He spoke only
occasionally, and usually to ask her what she had heard in her brothers’
thoughts.  Mistral would repeat to him what she heard, only editing out
the one single thought from Cain that had made her heart lurch painfully –

I wish Saul were here to see this.

Saul.  Their brother.  The one who had
asked for more than she was capable of giving. 

Love. 

That one simple word belied the world of
complication it entailed.  She could barely comprehend the depth of
emotion she felt for Fabian let alone begin to fathom the bond she felt with
her brothers.  She glanced over at Fabian again.  He was gazing
intently at sky, his expression tense while he studied the changing
weather. 

‘We must make the journey back without staying
overnight in the mountains,’ he said in a worried voice.  ‘This weather is
closing in.’

Mistral nodded and looked up at the uniformly grey
sky; breathing in the metallic taste of snow.  To be caught in Northern
Range during the heavy winter falls would be foolish.   ‘Let’s hope
the dragons want some breakfast soon then,’ she said and stared over at the
location of the dragon nest again. 

Another hour passed in freezing cold
monotony.  Mistral submitted to the warmth of Fabian’s embrace reluctantly,
knowing she would be distracted once encircled in his arms.  And she was;
gazing wistfully up at his serious face while he continued to watch for the
dragon herd.

They’re coming!!!

Brutus’ thought pierced through her pleasant
daydreams, bringing with it a welcome rush of adrenaline.  ‘They’re
coming!’  She repeated to Fabian in a breathless gasp, leaping from his
arms and ripping off her gloves to reach for her bow.

‘Take left, I’ll take right,’ he instructed. 
Throwing his gloves down onto the snow-covered rock he passed her a
poison-tipped arrow.

She took it from him wordlessly.  Notching it
into her bow she took her position at the edge and drew the string tight. 
Then came the waiting, staring out through the swirling snow, watching for the
first sight of their prey …
dragons
…

Dark shapes began to appear through the
snow-filled sky, swooping silently towards them on leathery wings the colour of
earth.  Mistral was instantly lost.  Dragons ... even their name
conjured images of fearful savagery, but to Mistral they were beautiful. 
They flew with a sinuous grace, their long bodies dipping and arcing with every
beat of their powerful wings, almost as though they were swimming through the
air.  They flew closer, drawn in by the bestra’s strong scent.  Mistral
held her breath and curled her finger around the string of her bow, counting
each dragon that appeared through the dim light.

 ‘I see five!’  She hissed to Fabian.

The olive green tones of each dragon’s hide told
her these were the juvenile females.  They split into two groups and began
to circle above the mournfully lowering bestra.  Mistral narrowed her eyes
and drew the string of her bow tight, focusing on one of the dragons, waiting
tensely for it to expose one of its few vulnerable points to her.  She
cursed silently as it continued to circle warily above the bestra, intrigued by
their tantalising scent but cautious of danger, unconfident without the
presence of their herd leader.  At some unseen signal between them, the
dragons suddenly pitched into a steep dive, plummeting with the speed of a
hunting hawk, twisting around with their claws outstretched to reveal sleek
underbellies, finally exposing the soft patch of skin tucked behind each scaly
elbow.

Mistral immediately released her finger and loosed
her poison-tipped arrow, hearing the high-pitched whine of her arrow’s flight
echoed all around as her brothers also saw the opportunity and fired
simultaneously.  At once the air rang to the thunderous roars of the
dragons, surprised by the hail of arrows that rained down on them from unseen
enemies.  Mistral watched the progress of her own arrow with bated breath
– it flew straight, only to miss its mark by inches and bounce uselessly
against the armoured scales of the dragon’s flanks.

Reload …

Mine struck!

Shot!

Hah!  One down!

Damn it!  I missed.