The Seer (73 page)

Malachi and
Xerxes locked stares across the room. 

‘I think that
we should vote now.’  Gleacher broke the frigid silence and strode over to
place a large wooden box on the bar.  The box was sealed all the way
around with just one slot cut into the top.  Placing a sheaf of parchment,
a pot of ink and several quills beside the box, he stepped back and turned to
address the warriors one final time.  ‘Warriors … make your choice.’

For a long
moment no-one moved, then, with a loud scraping of wood on stone, Samson shoved
back his chair and pushed his way through the unmoving warriors to the
bar.  He took one of the quills, dipped it in the ink then reached for a
piece of parchment.  The room was so still that Mistral could clearly hear
the scratching sound of the quill as Samson wrote down his choice for the next
Divinus.  Folding it twice, he posted it carefully through the slot in the
top of the box and returned to his seat.

At once the
room was filled with the sound of warriors rising from their chairs and making
their way to the bar.  Murmured conversations broke out all around,
discussing the astonishing revelations in shocked tones.  It was all vague
background noise to Mistral, rapidly fading to an insignificant whisper while
she sank into a trance-like state; reading the thoughts of each warrior that
stepped up to write down their choice and place it into the box.

‘What do you
See Mistral?’  Fabian’s voice held an unfamiliar edge of anxiety to it.

‘Malachi … Leo
… Malachi … Malachi … Leo … Leo –’ she murmured indistinctly, her blank stare
fixed on blackened beams above the bar. 

‘It’s going to
be close.’  Phantasm muttered then turned quickly to Brutus. 
‘Where’s Grendel?’

Brutus grimaced,
‘Busy.’

‘Well he’s
about to get unbusy!  We need every warrior to vote or we’re going to end
up with Master Nox as our Divinus!’

‘I’ll leave
the Valley if that happens!’

‘So shall I
brother, but I would rather be paid to work and live in a house than scratch
out a miserable existence in the forests!’

‘Fair point.’
 Brutus agreed and rose quickly to his feet.  ‘I’ll be back as
quickly as I can –’

It was
midnight before the final warrior had cast his vote, then the slow process of
counting them began; a task traditionally performed by the Ri’s Agents,
Scrimshaw and Scuttle.  Mistral had rested her head onto her folded arms
and fallen asleep by the time the count had even begun.

Xerxes looked
up briefly from his parchment and shook his head, ‘I’ve lost track of the
number of times I’ve seen her asleep with her head on this table.’

‘Not sober
though.’  Cain said while Fabian gently placed his folded cloak under her
head as a pillow.

Another hour
passed.  Xerxes filled the time by feverishly checking the list of wagers
he’d taken and calculating how much money he could potentially lose if Mycroft
actually received more than one vote.

‘The votes
have been counted twice with the same result!  A new Divinus has been
chosen!’

The low murmur
of conversation instantly died and every warrior turned to look at Vincent
Scrimshaw, peering at them over half-moon spectacles from beside the wooden box
at the bar.

‘One hundred
and fifty six warriors voted tonight.  The first candidate, Master
Casterton, received votes totalling five.’

There were a
few laughs; Xerxes swore and quickly checked his list again.

‘The second
candidate, Master Sphinx –’

The atmosphere
in the tavern became suddenly strained.  Everyone was abruptly alert, either
leaning forward on their seats or standing up a little straighter.

‘Received
votes totalling –’ He paused and glanced down at the parchment in his hand
while the warriors waited with bated breath for him to deliver the
result.  ‘Seventy six.’

The tense
silence held for a moment while rapid calculations were carried out, the twins
suddenly grinned at each other and half the tavern erupted into triumphant
cheers.

‘He’s done
it!’  Brutus cried loudly.  ‘The good ship Leo has only gone and
sailed into harbour!’

‘By the skin
of his teeth though.’  Cain said with a meaningful look at the bitter
disappointment on the faces of some of the warriors in the room.  ‘Seventy
five of them voted for Malachi rather than have a Mage rule the Ri.  What
does that say about the mind-set of half the warriors in the Valley?’ 

‘That we’d
rather have a corrupt, greedy half-vampire in charge than a Mage.’  Brutus
replied, still grinning.  ‘Tell you what though, I’m damned glad I went to
fetch Grendel now, I reckon it was his vote that tipped it!’

Nobody
listened to Vincent Scrimshaw deliver Malachi’s results, or heard him loudly
proclaim Master Leopold Sphinx as the Ri’s new Divinus.  The tavern was
growing rowdy again with warriors beginning to celebrate, although several had
already got up and walked out, their expressions guarded. 

‘It’s going to
be a bit awkward around here for a while.’  Phantom said, looking
pointedly at Malachi’s livid face as he stalked from the room to sarcastic
applause from Leo’s supporters.

‘I’m sure
he’ll be gone by the morning.’  Fabian said quietly and rested a hand
lightly on Mistral’s arm to wake her up.

‘S’up?’ 
She muttered groggily.  ‘Is it over?’

‘Yes, Leo
won.  I’m taking you home now.’

‘We’ll walk
with you.’  Phantasm said, yawning and rising to his feet. 

‘Before you go
brother, can I ask a favour?’  Brutus leaned over the table with an
uncomfortable look on his face.  ‘Only when I went to fetch Grendel, he
was with Liliana and, er, well let’s just say I can’t get the image out of my head. 
It was horrific.  Can you use your gift to make me forget?’

‘Consider it
done Brutus.’  Phantasm laughed.  ‘That’s one memory I’d want erased
too –’

‘Don’t answer
that Fabian!’  Mistral shouted from the kitchen as a knock sounded on
their door.

He turned to look
enquiringly at her.

‘It’s only
Phantasm, and I know what he wants,’ she explained with a black look.

Fabian sighed,
‘I’m due to be organising the apprentices now Mistral.  If you are
forbidding me from opening the door, how do you suggest that I leave the
house?  Through the window?’

‘Yes please.’

Laughing
quietly Fabian opened the door and stepped out into the street, nodding
politely to Phantasm as they passed each other.

‘Good morning
Mistral.’  Phantasm strode purposefully into the small living room and
dropped a parcel onto the table.

‘No!’ 
Mistral’s voice shouted through from the kitchen.

‘I am not
arguing with you over this one!’

‘Neither am
I!  It’s not happening!’  Mistral appeared in the kitchen doorway,
scowling angrily.

‘Don’t be so obstreperous! 
You can’t go to Grendel’s wedding in trousers and a shirt!’

‘Fine!  I
won’t go then!’

He smiled
smugly, causing her scowl to deepen, ‘Ah, but you have to, because you’re
contractually obliged to attend all official functions.’

‘No I’m not!’

‘Details
Mistral.’  Phantasm sighed.  ‘You were there when Mage De Winter was
sworn in as the Ri’s new Training Captain weren’t you?’

‘Of course!’

‘Yes, but
apparently you weren’t listening.  In fact, I’m willing to bet my next
Contract that you were probably too busy admiring the way Mage De Winter was
standing or something –’

Mistral pulled
a face at him but couldn’t argue.  He was right.  Well, nearly
right.  She’d been so proud of Fabian during the brief ceremony held in
the Main Hall the week before; his handsome face so serious while he listened
to Leo outline the duties expected of him –

‘Mistral!’

‘What!’

‘You’re off
again aren’t you?  Well stop it!  If you’d been focussing on the
words instead of the sunlight glinting on Mage De Winter’s hair, or something
equally romantic, you would’ve known that he’s expected to attend any formal
events in the Valley with an appropriate escort –’

‘Escort?’ 
Mistral bridled. 

‘You.’
 Phantasm said with a roll of his eyes.  ‘As his wife, you are his
appropriate escort!  Or would you rather he took one of Liliana’s sisters
today?’

‘No I would
not!’  she snapped then scowled again.  ‘Hang on!  Leo came to
our wedding but he didn’t have anyone with him.’

‘He took
Mistress Lightwater actually.  A very safe choice.’

‘I’ll
say!’  Mistral agreed fervently.  ‘She can’t stand him!’

Phantasm
looked intrigued then immediately frowned, ‘Stop trying to side-track me with
gossip!’

‘It’s not
gossip!  It’s fact!  I’ve seen it in her aura!’

‘Mistral! 
Stop avoiding the subject!’ 

Phantasm’s
green eyes glinted dangerously, instantly reminding Mistral of his formidable
mother.  Abandoning the confrontational approach, she decided to try
another tactic.  ‘Oh please don’t make me brother,’ she begged, dropping
down onto the sofa with a miserable look on her face.  ‘I’ll be so
uncomfortable in a dress; it won’t fit –’

‘Yes it will.
 Eudora made it especially for today.’

Cursing
inwardly, Mistral realised she’d been out manoeuvred again and went for a
desperate last ditch attempt, ‘I’ll just look ridiculous!’  She wailed,
trying to force a tear out.  ‘Everyone will be gawping at those damned
nymphs, and then there’ll be me, looking like a – a –’

‘Very
beautiful and rightfully proud mother to be.  Now, please, just stop
trying to get out of this.  You are wearing a dress today, and that’s
final.’

‘What colour
is it?’  she demanded sulkily.

‘Pink.’

‘What!’

Phantasm
sighed exasperatedly, ‘Don’t ask stupid questions if you don’t want to hear
stupid answers!  You know what colour it is because you’ve seen it in my
thoughts, which is why you left me standing on the doorstep!’

‘I’m not
apologising for that,’ she folded her arms and eyed him belligerently.  ‘I
don’t want to wear the damned dress!  I’m perfectly happy in trousers.’

‘Yes, you are,
however Mage De Winter deserves to attend his first official function as the
Ri’s Training Captain with a wife wearing something other than one of his
borrowed shirts!’

‘Fine then!’
 Mistral admitted defeat ungraciously and thrust out a hand towards
Phantasm.  ‘Give the dress!’

‘No
chance!’  he snorted.  ‘Hair first!’

Muttering a
stream of highly abusive swear words under her breath, Mistral stomped up the
stairs followed by Phantasm, holding the parcel carefully away from her.

Half an hour
later Mistral was sat in the untidy mess of her and Fabian’s bedroom while
Phantasm pulled her hair into some style he no doubt considered to be
“appropriate”.

‘Mistral? 
...
Mistral!’

‘Hmm?’

‘I knew
it!  You were off again weren’t you?  So rude!  I’ve been
talking to you for the last ten minutes and you weren’t even here!’

‘Sorry
brother.’

‘Well the
least you can do is tell me where you were!’

‘Malachi –’

‘Ah yes, the
elusive Master Nox.  Anything new to report?’

‘Nothing.’
 Mistral sighed.  ‘As usual.’

Mistral had
been reading the disgraced Magnate member almost continually since he crept
from the Valley the night he lost the election.  To accept defeat and fade
quietly away simply didn’t fit with Malachi’s character.  Despite her
almost obsessive surveillance, his thoughts had revealed nothing more to her
other than the fact that he was travelling on foot, heading north.

‘He’s
extremely resourceful and intelligent.’  Phantasm said fairly. 
‘He’ll know you’re reading him and he’s disciplined enough not to think of his
plans.’

‘No-one can be
that disciplined!  I’ve even woken up in the night and read him!’ 

‘He’s
half-vampire Mistral, they’re possibly the most tenacious creatures on the
Isle!  If Master Nox has made a decision not to think freely of his plans,
he’ll stick to it regimentally.’

‘Well he has
to think of them sooner or later.’  Mistral said in a determined
voice.  ‘And when he does, I’ll be listening.  He must have some sort
of plan for revenge.  There’s no way the Malachi Nox I Saw would allow Leo
to beat him in the election without seeking vengeance.  He had one of
bitterest minds I’ve ever Seen, and that’s not a compliment!’

‘One
of?’  Phantasm enquired conversationally while he hefted a section of her
hair and pinned it into place.  ‘Who won the prize for being the most
bitter then?’

‘Bellicose La
Monte.’  Mistral replied without hesitation.  ‘He
is
utterly
vile.’

‘Like father
like son.’  Phantasm murmured and stepped back to admire his
handiwork.  ‘Not bad, if I do say so myself.  Your hair has got
thicker.’

Mistral heaved
a sigh, ‘Like the rest of me.’

‘Right! 
Dress on!  It’s time to go!’

Mistral sighed
dejectedly and remained sat on the stool while Phantasm exited the room,
leaving her staring at the parcel laid on the unmade bed.  Heaving another
deep sigh, Mistral stood up and walked over to the bed, ripping open the parcel
to reveal the midnight blue silk dress she already knew was in there. 
Shedding her own clothes she stepped into it and pulled it up, slipping her
arms through the holes and adjusting the neckline she cursed Eudora under her
breath.  It fitted perfectly. Putting on the matching pair of satin
slippers with an irritated noise, Mistral realised that once again, she was
being bullied into going to a wedding.

The village
square was completely unrecognisable.  Heavily scented arium lilies had
been wound through the Arena fence and around the door of The Cloak and Dagger,
and a thick carpet of white rose petals covered the cobbles, forming small
drifts on the window ledges of all the nearby houses.  A large awning of
pearly white silk had been erected in the centre of the square with yet more
lilies twined around each supporting pole, turning the scene of so many funeral
pyres into a floral bower.

 ‘This is
really not how I would have imagined Grendel to have wanted his wedding to be.’
 Cain muttered, looking around at the petal-strewn Square.

‘You imagined
Grendel getting married?’  Brutus asked in surprise.

‘Well, no.’
 Cain admitted with a laugh.  ‘But I suppose we all will, one day –’

‘I think
Marietta’s got designs on that day being soon.  Watch out brother! 
She’s got that look in her eye!’  Brutus added in a low aside to Xerxes.

‘Oh, bless
her.’  Xerxes smiled fondly over at his on-off girlfriend, now talking to
Eudora and pointing up at the silken awning with a critical expression on her
face.  ‘I suppose she deserves her day in white with me.’

‘No brother,
no-one deserves that.’  Brutus said flatly. 

Xerxes
laughed, ‘Certainly not today anyway!  I’ve never seen so many
good-looking women in the Valley before!’

‘Liliana’s
sisters certainly do brighten the place up a bit don’t they?’  Cain agreed
with a grin.  ‘Reminds me of The Festival of the Arcane –’

‘Who’s
that?’  Xerxes asked, his eye lighting appreciatively on a figure walking
into the square.

Brutus and
Cain looked over and laughed.

‘Er, the
mother of your nephew!’

Xerxes looked
away quickly as Mage De Winter appeared to stand next to Mistral, ‘I wish you’d
warn me when she’s going to wear a dress!’

‘Sorry
brother, not in charge of her wardrobe, and neither was she by the look of
it.  My guess is she’s been bullied by Phantasm again.’

The gentle
strains of harp music drifted across the Square and everyone immediately looked
up to watch Grendel lumbering through the sea of petals to stand beneath the
awning where Leo was waiting to conduct the ceremony. 

Cain watched
the huge warrior talking dazedly with Leo and shook his head, ‘Do you think he
knows what he’s doing?’ 

Brutus
shrugged, ‘I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again.  Love is blind.’

‘I know! 
Who’d have thought that our scruffy tomboy Mistral would end up married and
expecting a baby?’  Xerxes exclaimed.  ‘That’s a bet even I’d never
have taken!’ 

They looked
over at Mistral again, now talking with the twins.

‘Oh I don’t
know, I always thought she’d end up with one of those two.’  Brutus
mused. 

‘Saul always
thought she’d end up with him.’  Cain added quietly.

‘I think I
know who I’m going to end up with tonight.’  Xerxes smirked, winking at
one of Liliana’s sisters.

‘Your life
isn’t going to be worth living if you do!’  Brutus warned and nodded
meaningfully towards Marietta, glaring daggers at the group of nymphs who were
giggling and throwing rose petals over some bemused looking warriors.

‘She’ll get
over it.’  Xerxes waved a hand dismissively.  ‘Nothing a new dress
won’t rectify –’

Brutus sighed
heavily, ‘He never learns.’

A collective
sigh rose from the gathered wedding guests when Liliana appeared, a vision in
white drifting elegantly through the snow-storm of petals her sisters were
throwing into the air.  The nymph playing the harp immediately changed the
music to pluck out a rippling melody and her sisters joined together to sing in
lilting, sweet voices.

Marietta immediately
launched herself at Xerxes and clung onto his arm, crying loudly.

‘Oh please, I
think I’m going to be sick.’  Mistral muttered under her breath to
Phantom.

He brushed a
stray rose petal irritably from her shoulder, ‘I admit, it’s a bit over the top. 
Apparently the white rose petals are to signify purity and abstinence.’ 
Phantom snorted.  ‘Talk about deluded!  It’s hardly a secret how
Liliana and Grendel met!  After the ceremony they’ll switch to red petals
to celebrate love and passion.  If you ask me they’ve got it the wrong way
around!’

Mistral
laughed then grabbed his sleeve and tugged it sharply, ‘Oh just look at
Xerxes!  He’s like a dog straining on a leash!’ 

Phantom looked
over to see Xerxes leering lasciviously at the nymphs, oblivious to the tearful
Marietta hanging off him. 

‘Oh dear,’ he
sighed.  ‘Looks like Xerxes is headed for the doghouse again.’

‘Shh!’
Phantasm chided them in a sharp whisper.  ‘It’s starting!’

Mistral rolled
her eyes and gazed around with growing boredom as the ceremony began.  She
couldn’t recall being bored at her own wedding, but then she couldn’t recall
much about the ceremony at all.  It had passed by in a blur.  She
looked over at Grendel, resplendent in a white shirt but still managing to look
like some vast, well-scrubbed toad, blinking dazedly in the bright
sunlight.  He was looking at Liliana with a doting expression on his ugly
face and she was gazing back at him adoringly.  Mistral sighed.  It
was truly disgusting.