The Seer (43 page)

‘Don’t know
about that!’  Brutus laughed.  ‘I always said she should’ve had
hooves, horns and a tail.’

‘Centaurs
don’t have horns Brutus.’  Xerxes looked hazily at his brother.  ‘Do
they?’

Mistral blew
her cheeks out and looked over her shoulder at the door, willing it to open and
reveal Fabian coming in to rescue her.  To her amazement the door promptly
opened and Fabian stepped into the bar, meeting her happy look with one of
bemusement he immediately stepped aside to hold the door open for the person
behind him.  Mistral’s jaw dropped as Melsina De’ath stepped lightly into
the tavern and paused to gaze around while she slowly unwound a fur stole from
around her neck.  Her perfect features were carefully composed in an
expression of polite indifference but Mistral could see her obvious distaste
for her surroundings reflected in her aura.  The twins and Xerxes
instantly leapt to their feet; the twins to solicitously help their mother with
her long fur-lined travelling cloak and Xerxes to pull out a chair at their
table for her.

Mistral
glanced at Xerxes and hid a smile; he was staring at Melsina in open-mouthed
astonishment.  Watching Melsina gliding gracefully towards their table,
Mistral could see why.  Even dressed for travel she was the epitome of
style and elegance in a fine wool riding habit and fitted jacket trimmed with
white fur.  The biting cold air had tinged her alabaster cheeks with the
faintest hint of colour, making her skin glow like polished marble.  Her
green eyes sparkled with amusement when they alighted on Xerxes, scampering
around like an excited terrier, waiting to assist her into the chair.

‘So
kind.  However I shan’t be staying.’  Melsina smiled enchantingly and
rested one slender, leather gloved hand on the back of the chair.

‘No?’ 
Xerxes’ face dropped.  ‘But you’ve only just arrived!  Perhaps a
goblet of spiced wine to warm you up?’  He offered, giving her a slavish
smile.

‘Thank you,
but no.’ Melsina demurred quietly but firmly and turned to look at the
twins.  ‘I have come at the request of my boys, on an errand of mercy.’

An errand
of mercy? 
Mistral raised an eyebrow wonderingly and leaned back on
her chair to look at Fabian behind Melsina’s back.  His expression was
amused, but his thoughts were purposefully neutral.  She frowned, suddenly
suspicious and narrowed her eyes at the twins.  Their faces were composed
masks of filial concern for their mother and their thoughts also revealed
nothing.  Mistral sighed irritably and drummed her fingers on the
table.  They were all becoming far too adept at evading her gift for her
liking, and something was definitely going on.  Just what was Melsina
doing in the Valley?  And on an “errand of mercy” too –

Abruptly
switching her beguiling green gaze to meet Mistral’s pondering look, Melsina
smiled sweetly and held out a hand to her, ‘I understand that congratulations
are in order!  I have a gift for you.’

Mistral felt
her face freeze in a horrified expression when Melsina took hold of her hand in
a familiar iron grip.  Phantom quickly glided over to pull her chair out,
leaving her no choice but to stand up.  ‘Care to tell me what this is
about,’ she hissed at him under her breath. 

‘You are the
errand of mercy,’ he whispered back, throwing her cloak around her
quickly. 

‘Oh please
no!’  She moaned.

‘You didn’t
really expect to keep borrowing my clothes did you?’  Phantom smirked and stepped
back swiftly to avoid a well-aimed stamp at his foot. 

Feeling
burgeoning dread at what Melsina was going to submit her to, Mistral threw
Phantasm a pleading look, but he avoided her eyes and moved lightly to his
mother’s side, holding her cloak out for her.

‘You will come
for tea tonight won’t you mother?’  He enquired politely while he
dutifully helped with her cloak.

‘Sorry
darling, but your charming Training Captain, Leo is it?  Well, he has
invited me to dinner – oh, and Vilius and I shall be staying in one of the
guests rooms in the Main Building too, so there will be no need for you to go
to any effort to find room for us.’

‘What a pity.’
 Phantasm managed to look suitably crestfallen.  ‘We were so looking
forward to showing you our house.’

‘I know
darling, but I shall come and visit you before I leave tomorrow.’  Melsina
smiled and laid a gloved hand briefly against his cheek.

‘Oh good.’
 Phantom forced a smile.

‘Er, I’m
really sorry Melsina, but Fabian and I were just leaving –’ Mistral improvised
wildly, giving Fabian a desperate look.  ‘We need to get home before
nightfall you see –’

‘I shall not
keep you long my dear; I know how important your rest is for you now.’
 Melsina took Mistral’s hand in a vice-like grip once again.

‘Fabian?’ 
Mistral wailed frantically.  ‘Won’t this hold you up?’ 

‘Actually no.’
Fabian’s face suddenly grew thoughtful.  ‘I do have a matter I need to
discuss with Samson.’

‘What? 
Now?’  Mistral cried.

‘Oh yes.’
 Fabian nodded, frowning seriously.  ‘It really can’t wait.’

Mistral glared
daggers at him but he merely raised a sardonic eyebrow and accepted a tankard
of ale from a grinning Samson.  Mistral cast one last despairing look at
Prospero in the vain hope that her faithful dog would leap to her defence and
tackle Melsina to the ground.  But he was stretched out beneath the table
watching her lazily through one half-opened eye.  It seemed as though even
her dog was content to abandon her to a fate worse than death … or De’ath.
 Xerxes almost ran across the tavern to hold the door open, smiling in a
star-struck fashion at Melsina while she hauled Mistral outside, still giving
Fabian filthy looks over her shoulder.

‘Now darling,
we need to make sure that you are appropriately attired for the duration of
your pregnancy.  It can be a challenging time style-wise, believe me, I
know!  Have any ideas on colours?  I think we should avoid black –’

‘Thank heavens
for that!’  Phantom gave a relieved sigh when Melsina’s silvery voice was
abruptly cut off by the door swinging shut. 

‘What a
woman!’  Xerxes gasped, tottering back to the table and falling into his
chair. 

The twins gave
him a pitying look, ‘You have no idea,’ they muttered in unison.

The musical
tinkle of the bell above Eudora’s door sounded to Mistral like the tolling of a
funeral bell, signifying the start of a depressing event.  Eudora was
nowhere to be seen.  The tiny seamstress was skilfully camouflaged by her
black dress to blend in with the ceiling high shelves of black.  Mistral
was sure it was a habit she’d adopted just to pounce on more unsuspecting male
customers.  Melsina appeared unperturbed by the lack of greeting and
coughed politely into her gloved hand, signalling their requirement for
service. 

You’ll be
lucky!
 Mistral thought sourly. 

Melsina
coughed more loudly until it was impossible for Eudora not to either offer her
a glass of water or finally acknowledge the fact that she had a customer to
attend to.  A rustle of black drew their attention to where Eudora had
been concealed beside a row of black cloaks. 

‘Oh!’ 
She suddenly appeared, her painted lips rounded into a perfect ‘oh’ of surprise
and one hand clasped theatrically to her bosom.  ‘Is that really you
Melsina?’

‘How lovely to
see you Eudora.’  Melsina replied in a voice that clearly implied it was
anything but.  ‘You look … well.’

‘Why of course
I do!  But I have to confess that you look a trifle out of sorts.’
 Eudora’s sapphire blue gaze roved critically over Melsina’s clothes.
 ‘Travelling can be so wearing.  Were you forced to camp overnight in
that outfit?’  She enquired sympathetically.  

Melsina
stiffened slightly at the implied insult and Mistral had to stifle a snort of
amusement.  It appeared that not only did Melsina and Eudora know each
other, but there was apparently no love lost between them either.  Her
hellish shopping trip had suddenly become a lot more interesting.

Letting go of
Mistral’s arm, Melsina swept gracefully towards one of the towering sets of
shelves.  She ran a gloved finger lightly along the surface, holding it up
she pointedly examined the tip for dust.  ‘Oh dear.’  Melsina sighed
softly.  ‘Dusty shelves?  That doesn’t bode well –’

‘And to what
do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’  Eudora trilled sharply, her blue
eyes flashing dangerously. 

Mistral hid a
grin.  This was getting good. 

‘Hmm?’ 
Melsina looked up from wiping her gloved finger on a lace-edged
handkerchief.  ‘Well, that rather depends on whether or not you are up to
a rather special challenge.’

Eudora darted
from around the back of her desk and sped across the shop towards them,
speaking in rapid, high-pitched tones that instantly reminded Mistral of an
angrily buzzing bee, ‘There is no dress-making challenge on the Isle that I am
not capable of taking Melsina, as well you know!’

‘Of course I
know that Eudora, darling.  Which is why I’ve chosen you, rather than ...
oh, how should I put this?’  She paused to frown delicately.  ‘One of
the rather more well-known Council establishments?’

‘Being
commonly known is no indication of quality!’

‘Oh I
agree.’  Melsina smiled disarmingly.  ‘They simply do not have your
knack for creating in black.’

Eudora sniffed
and looked slightly mollified, ‘I’m pleased there are some people who still
appreciate quality.  I can clearly see that you are in need of my
services,’ she added ungraciously.

Mistral
blinked in astonishment, had Eudora really openly insulted Melsina
De’ath?  She was suddenly intrigued to know what these two titans in the
world of fashion had battled over in the past.

‘Actually, it’s
Mistral who will be requiring your services.’  Melsina murmured and waved
a gloved hand in Mistral’s direction.

Eudora ran her
sharp blue gaze over Mistral’s ensemble of Phantom’s baggy shirt and rolled up
trousers, ‘Beyond help,’ she declared cruelly.

‘Yes, my son’s
clothes are hardly befitting attire for the wife of Mage De Winter are
they?’  Melsina agreed lightly.  ‘It is such a shame that you feel
unable to assist me in this matter.  I would have been only too delighted
to tell the ladies at the Council how you dressed Lady De Winter for her first
pregnancy.’

Mistral gaped
at Melsina, torn between her desire to laugh at her blatant manipulation of
Eudora’s ego and her shocking use of the word “first.”

Eudora’s eyes
instantly widened, ‘Pregnancy?’   

‘Yes! 
And the good news doesn’t stop there!’  Melsina gushed proudly.  ‘My
boys are to be godfathers to the son and heir of the De Winter estate!’

Mistral
shifted uncomfortably.  She hadn’t considered that making the twins
godfathers would be seen as giving them some sort of status at the Council.

‘Are they
really?’  Eudora purred softly.  ‘And how are your delicious
boys?  I used to see so very much of them –’ she let her sentence hang
suggestively in the air. 

Melsina’s
green eyes narrowed to slits, reminding Mistral instantly of a cat about to
pounce, ‘Yes, my boys are so very handsome, aren’t they?  I’m sure I have
absolutely no idea where they will find wives.  It will be so terribly
hard match their beauty.’  Melsina gave a pained sigh then continued in a
woeful voice.  ‘They often complain to me how tiresome they find the
unwanted attention from some of their less … young … and often sadly desperate
admirers.  But, I suppose it’s fortunate that they now attend Council
functions and can mix with a more discerning class of female.’

Mistral choked
back a laugh.  Nobody in their right mind would say that either of the
twins were looking for wives.  They were far too much in love with
themselves to have an ounce to spare for anyone else. 

‘The Council
is such a haven of culture, don’t you agree?  It’s such a shame that
things didn’t quite work out for you there.’  Melsina finished with a sad
shake of her head.

‘The Council
wasn’t ready to accept a contemporary vision like mine!’  Eudora snapped
back, rising up onto her tiptoes like a tiny enraged ballerina.  ‘And I
might remind you that the Valley is also a home for many discerning
ladies!  We’re not all warriors you know!’

‘Oh, Eudora my
darling!’  Melsina cried, her exquisite face composed in a mask of contrition. 
‘Have I offended you?  I do apologise!  Of course I’m sure that the
Valley contains many … younger ladies who may present a certain, well, rustic
charm ... however none who can hold a candle to Eloise Lacey.’  Melsina
sighed fondly.  ‘Ah, sweet Lady Eloise.  She’s been chasing one of my
boys since they were at school together, which really wasn’t so very long ago
you know.’

Eudora swelled
with indignation at the double insult and Mistral was sure she was about to
take flight as she rose higher on her tiptoes and glared furiously at Melsina,
‘Eloise Lacey is no match for a lady that can offer the benefit of a little
experience!’

‘Oh a
veritable
wealth
of experience, I’m sure.’  Melsina murmured
archly.

Eudora made a
strange squeaking noise and seemed to swell further.  Mistral looked
around quickly for a pin in the hope that she might pop the irritating
shopkeeper and get rid of her once and for all. 

‘Are you ill
Eudora?’  Melsina enquired with an elegant frown of concern.  ‘Only
you appear to be slightly redder than usual.’

Mistral
laughed and disguised it quickly as a cough, ‘Sorry,’ she spluttered. 
‘Still suffering with a touch of sickness.’

Eudora
abruptly gave her an alarmed look.  Obviously cleaning her shop floor of
vomit wasn’t high up on her list of priorities because she immediately became
business-like.  ‘And how far into your term are you?’  She demanded
briskly, flitting across the shop to grab a tape measure and scroll of
parchment.