The Seer (39 page)

Fabian. 

She looked
down at the tatty shirt of his she was wearing, covering the body that held
their child.

‘The night I
placed you on that track for the Mage to find you was the worst night of my
life.’  Alyssa’s quietly spoken confession forced Mistral to look up,
meeting the tear-filled eyes of her mother.  ‘I knew you were destined to
be more than a tribal centaur.  We could not rob you of that chance ...
but I wanted to … oh! 
So
much!  I selfishly wanted to keep
you here, safe in the forests with me … my daughter.

 ‘It
would have been easier for me to have cut out my own heart than give you away,
but I did,’ she lifted her chin proudly and Mistral almost smiled in
recognition of her own defiant expression.  ‘Because it was right for you,
and that is all a mother ever wants, to do what is right for their child.’

Mistral
listened to Alyssa’s words with a growing sense of fear.  She had a life
growing inside her now.  Would she feel the same overpowering desire to do
whatever was necessary to ensure the safety of her child?  She could
barely look after herself never mind be responsible for another living
being!  She wasn’t capable of being a mother!  She’d spent years
running from her destiny, overwhelmed by the responsibility that Sight
entailed, and in the end she’d only embraced her gift in order to have the one
thing she’d wanted more than anything ... Fabian.  And now her so coveted
Mage had forced her into a future she was totally unprepared for.  She
felt lost and angry; betrayed by the man she trusted.  Mistral dropped her
head into her hands, pressing her fingers over her eyes to hide the tears that
threatened to fall. 

‘I think I
need a few minutes –’

Left alone
with Prospero, Mistral wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his fur
until there were no tears left to cry.  She sat upright and dried her
eyes.  Her outburst had left her calm enough to think rationally
again.  She could hear the twins’ frantic thoughts in her mind, demanding
that she come back.  She could feel the pull of their gift but it was no
more than the nagging voice of a petulant parent.  ‘Do your worst
brothers,’ she muttered.  ‘I can hear you, but I don’t have to do what you
say.’

She didn’t let
her mind reach for Fabian’s.  She was nowhere near ready to think about
him yet.

The daylight
slowly faded while Mistral sat with her arms clasped around Prospero and
thought.  So much of what Imperato had revealed made sense.  In fact,
the truth was almost too easy to accept.  She was mildly surprised to find
that she could come to terms with her past quite easily.  But her future …
that was a different matter entirely. 

She considered
and discounted various different possibilities.  She could stay here,
raise her child with her tribe, make Imperato and Alyssa into the proud and
doting grandparents they obviously wanted to be.  It would be a good life
filled with no responsibilities other than hunting and the day to day business
of living in the forests.  But she would condemn her child to never
knowing its father; a piece of her personal puzzle she had hated growing up
without.  She knew she could never do that to another living soul. 
Mistral tentatively laid her hands across her belly and thought about the baby
within her.  Her gift reached out unbidden, bringing the tiny whisper of
life to her ears.  She listened ... and she smiled.

A face
appeared in the doorway, looking at her with eyes she never thought she’d never
see again.  She stared at the yarthkin and realised that he had spoken and
was now waiting for a response.

‘Sorry,’ she
muttered.  ‘Missed that last bit –’

‘The tribe are
eating together tonight and have asked me to enquire whether you feel well
enough to join them.’

‘Oh. 
Right.’  Food beckoned.  Mistral rose stiffly and followed the
yarthkin out into the night.  The centaur settlement was built in a
circle; at its centre was a space, now filled with trestle tables set around a
blazing fire.  The rich aroma of roasting meat filled her nostrils and
Mistral’s mouth began to water.  She followed the yarthkin over to where
Alyssa and Imperato were stood, offering her a chair between them. 
Mistral sat down and instantly realised she was the only one doing so; all of
the centaurs were stood.  She half rose to her feet again only to feel
Alyssa’s light touch on her arm.

‘Sit.
 You must rest.  We stand because that is our way.’

Mistral sank
down onto the chair and gazed around at the centaur tribe.  Many of them
she recognised from her lessons with Imperato last year; but the faces of their
bonded partners were new to her.  The female centaurs were no less wild or
proud in their expressions, but their horse bodies were less powerfully built;
finer and more graceful, reminding Mistral once again of the lithe mare Fabian
owned.

Food was
served on wooden platters, brought to them by the same brown-eyed yarthkin that
had summoned Mistral from her hut.  She turned to Imperato and
hesitated.  Her anger at her parents had abated.  She had come to
terms with their decision and felt no bitterness, but she felt a need to
apologise for her earlier outburst.  Expecting him to be angry with her she
said his name quietly.  He immediately turned to look at her and, as
usual, completely threw her by saying the thing she least expected.

‘Are you ready
to read me now my child?’

Not
really.  That was the last thing she wanted to do.  However she felt
she’d probably offended him enough for one day.  ‘Yes.’

‘Please eat
something before you begin.’

Grateful for
an excuse to put off what was surely going to be an uncomfortable experience;
Mistral ate and listened to the conversations being held around the table. 
The centaurs talked of hunting, the weather, what the stars foretold and other
subjects that were of little interest to her, and she quickly grew bored. 
Surreptitiously dropping a large chunk of venison to Prospero, Mistral sighed
and prepared herself to read Imperato, the centaur chieftain … her
father.  ‘I’m ready now,’ she said quietly.

Imperato
nodded and gazed unconcernedly at the fire in the centre of the circle of
tables, ‘Then begin my child, you have waited a long time to hear this story.’

Mistral
exhaled slowly, letting the turbulent mix of emotions flow from her body; her
anger at Fabian, her shock, her fear … it all slipped away to leave her mind
clear and free.  She looked intently at the air above Imperato’s head,
focussing on his aura.  A burst of royal blue exploded into sight,
signifying the focus he felt.  She smiled.  Fabian’s aura was like
that.  They were very similar, her father and her husband.  Refusing
to become side-tracked by thoughts of Fabian, Mistral concentrated harder, pushing
the tendrils of her mind out, reaching for Imperato’s thoughts.  A voice
rich and sweet as honey murmured in her ear.  She frowned and tilted her
head to listen more closely.  Rather than simply allowed her access to his
random thoughts, Imperato was telling her a story; not just any story ... but
her story.

You were
born on the full moon in October; a powerful portent in itself.  We knew
as soon as we saw your tiny form that you were destined for much more than we
could ever hope to provide.  The stars had foretold of the arrival of a
new Seer and we both knew that you were to fulfil that role.

 A
full month passed before we could bear to accept the truth; that we were not
destined to raise our child as our own.  We took you to where we knew you would
be found … and cared for.  Do not hate us for the choice of destination,
you were safe and loved, bored maybe ... but not harmed. 

When you
grew older and journeyed into the forests to hunt we would watch over
you.  I was proud of my daughter, the huntress!  The nights you slept
beneath the trees you were not alone.  We may have been unable to raise
you, but you were never without our protection.

We followed
you the day you left the forests and travelled to the Valley of the Ri. 
You were finally beginning your journey to reach your destiny.

Fleeting
glimpses of your life were all I saw until we met again at The Festival of the
Arcane.  I knew then that you were on the cusp of embracing your
gift.  The time was coming when you would need my guidance in your life
once more … I offer you that now my child, whenever you require it …

Mistral
listened to Imperato’s memories and felt the missing pieces of her past falling
into place.  She’d always felt safe in the forests, sleeping beneath the
trees ... and now she knew why.  She’d had unseen centaur guardians
watching over her.  His thoughts revealed much, but the emotion that the
memories evoked told her more.  She felt afresh the despair of knowing he
would have to trust another to raise his child, felt the warm glow of pride
when he recalled watching her hunt a bear … the trepidation when she walked
across the meadows to enter the Valley of the Ri for the first time ... The
brown-eyed yarthkin interrupted her thoughts to bring her a honeyed
desert.  She grimaced and refused it with a frantic wave of her
hand. 

Alyssa laughed
softly beside her, ‘Honey made me so sick when I was with you.’

Mistral turned
to look at her mother.  They hadn’t spoken since Mistral had shouted at
her in the hut.  ‘I’m sorry –’

Alyssa cut her
off with a gentle touch, ‘Don’t be.  I’m sure it is hard to understand our
reasoning, but I can tell you this ... I would gladly suffer the agony of
giving you up all over again if I knew that one day I would be here, sharing a
meal with you, carrying our grandchild.’

‘You haven’t
met your son-in-law yet.’  Mistral muttered darkly. 

Alyssa smiled,
‘I know of the Mage De Winter, and that my daughter is the Lady De Winter.’

Mistral made
an irritated noise and threw another piece of meat to Prospero.  She
looked out at the tribe, illuminated by the warm glow of the fire.  They
conducted themselves with so much more composure than any other Arcane tribes
Mistral had ever been in the company of.  Where did she get her innate
recklessness from?  Her love of fighting?  Her impulsiveness? 
The quiet gathering of centaurs didn’t reflect her nature at all.  She
turned to Imperato again, her eyes filled with unspoken questions.  He
smiled at her in the same way that had previously perplexed her but now made
complete sense.  Like a father.

‘Ask,’ he said
simply.

Instead of the
one she was going to ask, Mistral heard a completely different question fall
from her lips, ‘Why do you have yarthkins waiting on you?’

‘Yarthkins are
blood-bound to protect our kind.’  Imperato replied quietly then turned to
look at her.  ‘It is their destiny.’

Mistral felt a
weight drop into her stomach.  Saul.  Saul had been
half-yarthkin.  From the day they’d met she’d experienced a strange sense
of familiarity, a feeling of always knowing him.  And now, finally, she
understood.  He had been blood-bound to protect her.  More than that,
he had died to protect her.  And worse, infinitely worse, he had never
known why.  He had thought he was driven by love, not blood.  But
why?  Why would a race as fierce and adept at hunting as centaurs need to
enslave another to guard them?  ‘I don’t understand.  Why would
centaurs need the protection of yarthkins?’ 

‘Before the
Isle was forged our kind favoured the east, the Persian lands.  We found
it harder to hide from mankind than the other Arcanes.  Our forms are too
distinctive.  We could not hope to blend into their society the way that
Mages can.  We were persecuted for our different appearance, hunted to the
brink of extinction.  Other Arcanes were able to pass themselves off as
being human; elves, sylvads, yarthkins.  It was the yarthkin chieftain who
approached the centaur chieftain and offered the eternal protection of his kind
and assisted our escape to the sanctuary of the Isle.’

Mistral
frowned, ‘What did they get in return for eternal servitude?’ 

‘The honour of
serving our ancient and noble race is reward enough.’

Mistral
quickly hid her incredulous reaction.  Maybe she was too indoctrinated in
the ways of the Ri; that every service had a price.  But to offer a
lifetime … no, it had been more than that in Saul’s case … to offer a
life
in return for something as empty as honour?  She could barely conceal a
snort of disdain.  She suddenly hoped that Saul had loved her …
her
,
not the centaur or the Seer, but Mistral, the stupid, reckless idiot.  If
he had, then she could feel some small consolation that he’d died for a true
emotion and not some echo of an ancient blood-tie.  Forcing aside the ache
of Saul’s memory, Mistral turned again to Imperato to ask another question that
she knew only he would have the answer to.  ‘I took the Ten Year Cull
Contract.’

Imperato
nodded with immediate understanding, ‘You met the queen.’

Mistral
hesitated, ‘You could say that.  I jumped into her mouth actually.’

Alyssa tensed
by her side but said nothing.  Mistral glanced at her warily.  She
wasn’t ready to be mothered by her ... Serenity was bad enough. 

‘Dragons are
an ancient race my daughter, they have known more lifetimes than any other race
that lay claim to sanctuary on this Isle, even our own.  There is only one
race to equal dragons in its age and nobility and that is yours.’

Mistral looked
at him blankly.  She was a centaur, and he’d just said that dragons were
older than them.  Then she realised that he meant Seers ... that she was a
Seer, not a centaur.

‘The queen
will have seen in you a kindred spirit, an embodiment of the ancient laws of
arcadia itself.  Aside from that, you are with child.  Female dragons
have powerful maternal instincts.  She would have given her own life to
protect yours and the life that lives within you.  A female Seer with
child … it is a combination the queen would have been powerless to
resist.  Tell me, did she sing to you?’