The Seer (66 page)

‘Come on
Brutus!’  Mistral muttered under her breath, glancing urgently at the
numbers spinning round in the clock face.  ‘Get them in!’ 

Eventually
Brutus’ patience paid off when one of the bolder yearlings leapt over the slain
knucker into the safety of the corral, immediately followed by the other three.

The bay is
the leader …

Mistral noted
which horse had been brave enough to make the leap and hoped Fabian had too, in
the same thought she fervently hoped that Erin had been too busy giggling at
her next victim to notice. 

A warrior
Mistral did not know was next.  He approached the table; curtly giving his
name as Gray he waited impatiently for her to raise the whistle to her
lips.  As the blast sounded he galloped over to the corral to deploy
exactly the same tactics as Brutus; clearing away the obstacle and releasing
the gate before attempting to shift the herd down to the corral.  He hit
the same problem as Brutus and resorted to shouting bad-temperedly in an
attempt to force the horses into the corral.  Mistral watched the seconds
tick past on the clock and sighed in exasperation when Gray completely lost his
temper and dismounted to storm over and kick the dead knucker.  Gleacher’s
iron shout of “Disqualified!” rang out across the Arena and smattering of
cheers, applause and laughter followed Gray’s exit.

‘Do better
than him won’t you Cain?’  Mistral murmured to her brother when he
approached the desk next. 

‘Not hard.’
 Cain replied with a smirk and trotted off at the sound of her whistle.

Cain tried a
different tactic; riding down towards the knucker first he slowed to a walk and
rode past it, turning his mare around to repeat the manoeuvre until the warm
scent of horse drew the creature out from the protection of the corral’s
fence.  Holding his horse in a deliberately slow walk, Cain led the
knucker away from the corral before turning and shooting it then quickly
reloading to shoot the target and open the gate.  With the knucker’s body
a safe distance away from the now open gate, Cain turned his attention to
herding the horses in.  Without the obstacle of the knucker to negotiate,
the horses offered Cain little resistance and with a grin of victory Mistral was
soon slamming her hand down on the clock to stop the time.  Noting it down
against his name she pulled a face.  Cain’s tactic had been effective, but
time-consuming.

Sebastian rode
next, the warrior Mistral had met at The Festival of the Arcane.  He attempted
the same ploy that Cain had used but failed to notice that he’d only wounded
the knucker and was disqualified despite successfully herding the horses into
the corral.

Mistral didn’t
know the following three warriors who each tried a variant on the strategies
used so far, with varying degrees of success.  The warrior who gave his
name as Jareth failed magnificently when he fell off to a storm of cheers and
applause.  Despite his obvious embarrassment, he had enough good humour to
stand up and bow to his laughing audience. 

Samson rode
with typical aplomb, his firebrand mare awing the herd into compliance and
forcing them to leap the dead body of the knucker rather than face her fiercely
snapping jaws.  Mistral grinned at him as he cantered past, noting down
the fastest time so far with a gratified flourish. 

Fabian
approached the table next.  Mage Grapple and Imperato broke off from their
quiet conversation to exchange brief greetings with him, robbing Mistral of her
chance to whisper any helpful information to him about the bay horse.  She
pressed the whistle to her lips and summoned up enough breath to blow before
dropping it absently onto the table while she watched him canter lightly away
towards the herd.  Giving a gentle sigh, Imperato leaned across to press
down the start button on the clock once again. 

Fabian urged
Spirit into a faster canter, circling around the herd and driving them forcibly
towards the closed gate of the corral.  Mistral watched, transfixed by the
bright gold mare, now galloping around the nervous horses, her tail held high
and streaming out behind her like a banner.  Around and around Fabian
galloped his mare, pushing the startled herd towards the still closed gate
until they were so close Mistral began to panic, wondering if he had actually
forgotten about opening the gate.

Alarmed by the
pounding of hooves coming its way, the knucker ran from the concealment of the
corral fence to avoid being trampled.  Without checking Spirit’s furious pace,
Fabian raised his crossbow and fired, striking into the back of its neck and
killing it instantly.  Reloading in almost the same movement, Fabian
raised his crossbow again and aimed for the target.  Turning to look at
Mistral as he fired, he held her gaze while the bolt flew through the air to
hit the centre of the target.  The gate swung open just in time for the
bay yearling to gallop through, closely followed by the other three horses.

‘Time.’ 
Imperato murmured and pressed the button to halt Fabian’s time. 

Mistral didn’t
notice, she was lost in Fabian’s dark eyes, holding hers with heart-stopping
force while he galloped around the Arena to tumultuous applause from the
crowd. 

‘Erin!’

An irritating
voice chirruped, dragging her out of her private world.  Mistral blinked
and stared blankly at the annoying half-fairy, grinning saucily at her from the
back of her over-priced pony.

‘On my
whistle.’  Mistral growled and tried to convey as much menace as she could
into those three words before raising the whistle to her lips and giving it a
deafening blast that startled the pony. 

Erin proceeded
to replicate Fabian’s tactic with shameless plagiarism.

‘The audacity
of it!’  Mistral snarled, grinding her teeth in frustration as the
diminutive warrior shot the fleeing knucker then fired at the target on the
gate to admit the slightly weary looking herd.  ‘She’d never have come up
with that on her own!  The cheating b –’

‘Time!’ 
Imperato said firmly and slammed his hand down on the knob. 

Mistral jumped
and looked up to meet his angry expression, ‘What?’ She demanded
defiantly. 

‘I do not
approve of swearing!’

‘And I don’t
approve of tarts spending two weeks camping out with my husband while I’m stuck
in the Valley!’  She shouted back, suddenly utterly incensed.  What
gave Imperato the right to lecture her?  If he wanted that right, he
should have raised her!

‘I commend the
depth of emotion you have for your husband, but trust must form one of the many
ties that bind you.’ 

Mistral glared
silently at the centaur and was suddenly embarrassingly aware that Mage Grapple
was witnessing her first clash of wills with her father, ‘Where did I get my
temper from Imperato?’  She asked abruptly.  ‘Because all I see from
you and Alyssa is calmness, and I have none of that!’

Imperato
laughed.  A deep pleasant sound that took Mistral back slightly; she
didn’t think she’d ever heard him laugh before.

‘I have lived
long enough to master the art of patience.  It will come to you, I
promise.  You have fire, like your mother.  She has mellowed with the
passing of time, but in her youth – ’

He let his
sentence hang in the air and gazed off into space, a look of such tenderness on
his face that Mistral instantly smiled.  It was obvious to her that
Imperato loved Alyssa with more than the irrefutable ties of Bonding.

‘Warriors! 
I salute your skill!’

Mistral heaved
a weary sigh and turned to watch her brother-in-law address the huge crowd
gathered in the village square.

‘I will
announce the results from this event then I entreat you all to enjoy a meal
which I have requested Floris to provide , with maybe a tankard or two of his
finest ale –’

Leo paused to
allow the resulting laughter to subside.  Mistral rolled her eyes at his
blatant crowd pleasing, and the more revolting fact that they were actually
falling for it.

‘Then I invite
you all back to cheer on the final six competitors; who, in reverse order, will
be –’

Mistral
realised that the parchment that had lain on the table in front of her was
missing.  Gleacher must have retrieved it while she was arguing with
Imperato.

‘Cain!’

A cheer went
up.  Mistral found herself standing up and clapping with the rest of the
warriors.

‘Jasper!’

The warrior
that had successfully copied Cain’s tactic let out a loud whoop.

‘Brutus!’

Mistral’s
hands stung from clapping so hard and she seriously thought her face might
split from grinning.

‘Samson!’

Impossibly,
her grin widened as she watched Samson’s scarred face break into a triumphant
smile.

‘Erin!’

Mistrals’ grin
became a grimace and her clapping hands curled into fists.  She was
gratified to note that the responding applause was polite rather than
rapturous.

‘Fabian De
Winter!’

No words could
express the depth of emotion that overwhelmed Mistral when she looked across
the Arena to see her Mage, sat motionless on his gold horse and staring with
breathtaking intensity at her.  Her hands fell open by her sides and her
smile faded to be replaced by a look of profound longing.  Ignoring the
congratulations around him Fabian abruptly spurred Spirit across the
Arena.  Reining to a jarring halt he reached down and swung her up onto
the front of his saddle.  With no words to say Mistral simply wound her
arms around his neck and kissed him unashamedly, completely oblivious to the suggestive
calls and laughter of the crowd watching them ride slowly back across the
Arena.

Floris had
prepared a hog roast and was serving it from a row of trestle tables in the
village square.  Mercifully, the rain held off and a carnival-like
atmosphere quickly developed.  Warriors drank, ate, and laughed at each
other’s heavily embellished tales of their efforts in the tournament.  To
her disgust, Samson seemed to be enjoying Erin’s overly obvious flirting. 
When the irritating half-fairy vanished to go the bar at precisely the same
time that Mage Grapple collared Fabian, Mistral grabbed Samson to hiss angrily
in his ear. 

‘If you so
much as hold her hand you will never be my son’s godfather!’

Samson threw
back his head and laughed, making Mistral scowl even harder, ‘Come on Mistral,
she’s got fairy blood!  It’s like reliving my apprenticeship all over
again!  Eudora had quite a reputation in those days –’

‘I don’t care
about Eudora!  Just promise me that if Erin ends up on this Contract then
you’ll keep an eye on her for me – ’  Mistral’s voice choked off.

Samson
instantly stopped laughing and looked at her in surprise, ‘Oh come on
Mistral!  You can’t seriously think that Fabian would even look at her!’

Mistral’s face
crumpled with the effort of holding back more tears.

‘You do, don’t
you?’  Samson’s expression was incredulous.  He bent his scarred face
close to hers to speak more quietly.  ‘Do you know how long I have known
Fabian?’ 

She nodded,
rubbing away the silent tears with the sleeve of her velvet cloak.

‘Then you must
know that you and he, together, have something I never imagined possible. 
Nothing could ever come between you two.’

‘Still don’t
want my son’s godfather messing with a tart,’ she mumbled angrily.

‘No, I suppose
I should start setting an example to Samson Junior –’

‘He’s not
being called that!’

‘Why
not?  It’s a good name?’

‘Oh
right!  And you would teach him all your best traits would you?  Like
the time you were in Persia?’

‘How do you
know about that?’

‘I’m a Seer
Samson!’ 

Erin returned
to be completely ignored while Mistral and Samson hotly debated the
appropriateness of his behaviour during a Contract that had taken place nearly
ten years ago. 

‘Warriors!’

Mistral and
Samson stopped arguing as Leo’s distinctive voice rang out over the village
square once again.

‘The final is
upon us!  Six will compete, but only three will be successful!  It is
a simple challenge –’ He paused dramatically to allow the good-natured shouts
of disagreement to be voiced.  ‘Separate the black horse from the herd and
control it beside your own steed for two laps of the Arena!’

Along with
everyone else, Mistral turned to look at the Arena and instantly felt her world
implode.  There, in the midst of an adoring gaggle of Ri mares, was a
creature of such unequalled magnificence that Mistral could only stand and
stare.  After a long moment of silent ogling, she managed to express her
profound admiration with the only word that came to mind. 

‘Damn!’

‘You can say
that again!’  Samson echoed in an awed voice.

A firebrand
stallion stood proudly in the centre of the Arena.  Mistral’s gaze
travelled over the huge beast, noting the muscles that rippled beneath the
glossy coat, the strong, clean legs and proud head.  He towered above the
Ri mares, his thick neck arching protectively around the nearest one. 
Rolling a black eye towards the crowd of onlookers, he struck the ground
threateningly with a hoof the size of a dinner plate.

‘This is going
to be tough.’  Samson muttered and pushed his way through the crowd to find
Alto. 

The event
wasn’t timed; leaving Mistral free to join the onlookers at the fence while the
final six gathered in the Arena with some trepidation.

‘Makes Cirrus
look tame doesn’t he?’  Phantom muttered in her ear.

‘Cirrus is
gelded.’  Mistral retorted sharply.  ‘Of course a full firebrand
stallion makes him look tame!’

‘Easy sister,
no need to get defensive!’

Mistral
sniffed then turned to fix Phantasm with a sharp look, ‘I hope you haven’t
forgotten your promise!’