The Seer (86 page)

‘Maybe you’re
right brother.’  Phantom yawned, closing his eyes and leaning back against
his saddlebag.  ‘I don’t suppose there’d be many opportunities for us to
be godfathers either, being scummy half-breeds –’ 

‘None.’
 Phantasm agreed softly.

Phantom’s eyes
suddenly flew open, ‘How many children d’you think she’s going to have?’

Phantasm
turned to regard Mistral, gazing adoringly at Fabian while he whispered
something to her, ‘Who knows?  But I’m fairly sure it’ll be more than just
the one.’

‘Do you think
she’ll expect us to be godfathers to
all
of them?’  Phantom asked
with something close to panic in his voice.

Phantasm
smiled, ‘I hope so.’

Phantom
slumped back onto his saddlebag with a groan.

Mistral was up
at dawn, slipping quietly down to the lake to wash while the rest of the
warriors slept off the effects of an over-indulgence of wine and some of Cain’s
more dubious home-brewed liqueurs.  By the end of the night he’d dug out a
foul-looking mixture that he refused to divulge the ingredients of, stating
only that they were “unusual”.  Samson had tried one shot, then another
and after his third had declared it an “acquired taste” and passed out.

Returning to
find them all still snoring, Mistral decided to cook breakfast and knelt down
to coax the fire back into life.  Prospero was stretched out in the warm
space she had vacated, nestled close to Fabian’s side.  Mistral watched
her sleeping Mage while she stirred the embers of the fire.  He looked so
peaceful in sleep with his dark eyes closed, veiling the mirrors of his
soul.  They had spoken no more about Samson and Gemma the night before but
had discussed their plans for training the first years.  She was so
excited at the double prospect of working with Fabian and having a challenge in
her life again that she actually couldn’t wait to return to the Valley and get started. 
Leo was refusing to give her a wage until she’d completed paying back her
apprenticeship but Mistral didn’t care, Fabian’s income from his role as
Training Captain would be enough for them both to live on, plus they still had
his earnings from the unicorn Contract to cover any unforeseen expenses. 
Mistral also fully intended to pull in a few Contracts on the side but had
decided to keep that idea to herself; guessing it would probably be something
Fabian wouldn’t approve of.  She smiled at the complete contrasts in his
nature; a Mage that denied his gift, an assassin that valued life, a thief that
honoured morality, an ungrateful son that couldn’t wait to be a father. 

Mistral sighed
and poked the fire, now burning brightly once again.  Sitting back from
the warming flames she threaded two rabbits onto the spit and placed them over
the fire.  With nothing to do until they cooked she eyed her inert,
snoring brothers and hoped that Cain had saved some of his potent manticore
liqueur to cure their hangovers, or it was going to be a long day.

Before long
the smell of roasting meat roused Prospero.  He padded softly around her,
sniffing hopefully at the rabbits.

‘Go wake the
boys Prosp.’  Mistral urged him in a low murmur. 

Prospero
immediately bounded over to the twins and began to lick Phantom’s face, wagging
his plumed tail energetically.

‘Ugh! 
Gerroff!’

Mistral
laughed and watched Phantom shoving off her dog, who promptly rolled over onto
his back to pant happily into Phantasm’s sleeping face.

‘Saints above! 
What is that smell?  I think I’m going to be sick!’

Leaving the
twins battling with Prospero, Mistral stole softly over to Fabian’s side and
knelt down to kiss him.  He responded instantly, reaching out to pull her
into the warmth of his body, kissing her back with smiling lips.

‘Good
morning.’

‘Hello,’ she
murmured back.

‘Do I smell
roast rabbit?’

‘You do. 
Going to get up and have some?’

‘No.’

‘Oh?  Why
not?’

‘Because you
are going to stay here with me – ’

‘MISTRAL! 
Get your damned dog off me before I kill him!’

Laughing,
Mistral wriggled from Fabian’s arms and went to rescue the twins from
Prospero’s attempts to drown them both in dog saliva.

Gradually the
warriors awoke, rubbing sore heads and moaning about parched throats. 
Mistral bossed them mercilessly; refusing to feed them until they’d all been
down to the lake for a wash.  They returned looking marginally refreshed
to find bread, roast rabbit and cold leftovers from the night before ready for
them.  Tempers improved considerably once they’d eaten.  Topping
breakfast off with a much needed hair of the dog from Cain’s saddlebag, a few
smiles began to emerge once again. 

‘What’s the
plan for today?’  Brutus asked, looking brightly at Samson, sat nursing
his second tumbler of Cain’s patented pick-me-up.

‘Fabian’s in
charge today.’  Samson muttered shortly.

‘We can easily
cover the rest of the High Moors and reach The Velvet Forests before sunset.’
 Fabian said, pointing southwards.

‘We’re going
back through the forests then?’  Cain asked in surprise.

‘Hmm, there’s
a couple of things I’d like to get along the way.’  Mistral said, giving
Cain an enigmatic smile.

‘It’s too
early for intrigue Mistral.’  Cain complained.  ‘Just tell us what
you’re up to.’

‘Ah, all in good
time brother –’

They spent the
next three days travelling back to the Valley at a leisurely pace.  Samson
grew more introverted with each day that passed and by the third day had fallen
into a brooding silence.  The other warriors left him alone; something in
the set of his scarred features didn’t invite questions on his uncharacteristic
sullenness.  Mistral didn’t pester him either but listened frequently to
his thoughts; which revolved continually around Gemma and the chance he’d
wasted.  Through his mind she came to know the fair-haired girl he’d
loved, smiling warmly at him out of the past, and felt his bitter regret at his
betrayal of her.  She was saddened to discover that Fabian had been right;
Samson was envious of the love they shared and the family they were going to
have.  She Saw in his mind every touch and lingering look he’d witnessed
and felt afresh his aching sadness born of the knowledge that the same could
have been his.  He dwelled obsessively over the bitter argument that had
ended his relationship with Gemma; his shameful confession, her heartache, the
words she’d flung at him in anger that were intractable once spoken.  She
had called him feckless and malign, a faithless wastrel.  Mistral only
just managed to stop herself from snorting out aloud when she listened to that
particular memory in Samson’s mind and vowed that if she ever met Gemma, she
would definitely teach her a few more choice words to describe the lying,
cheating, selfish toe rag that Samson had obviously been in his youth.

Fabian and the
twins noticed her perpetually vague expression but assumed she was reading
Malachi; which she occasionally did, but only to be able to answer Phantom’s
continual question of “What’s he thinking?” with something other than a sharp
retort.

‘Travelling!’ 
Mistral snapped for what felt like the thousandth time.  ‘Still on a
sailing boat, and he’s seasick, so if you don’t mind I’m going to leave him
alone for a bit!’

Samson made an
effort to return to his normal carefree self when they approached the Valley,
shaking off his black mood to engage Darius in a lively conversation, planning
the return trip to clear out the remaining vampires.

‘Good to be
back?’  Phantasm asked Mistral, riding alongside her down the path into
the village square.

‘Do you know what brother?  It is!  I’ve got plans for those
first years!’

‘I’ll bet you
have.  I almost feel sorry for them.’

‘Not as sorry
as I feel for my pocket.’  Cain said.  ‘I haven’t pulled in any
Contracts since before the election and fun as this little trip’s been, it was
unpaid and my shop still isn’t complete.’

‘Hmm, straight
to the Agency for us I think brothers.’  Brutus agreed ruefully. 
‘Holiday over.’

Mistral
laughed and looked over at the Training Arena when it came into sight around a
bend in the path.  Leo had been teaching the first years while Fabian was
away and was obviously not enjoying reprising his role as Training
Captain.  He was stood in the middle of the Arena with hands on his hips,
bellowing at the terrified apprentices.

‘Oh dear,
looks like his Leoship’s been a ray of sunshine while we’ve been away.’
 Brutus sighed.

Reining to a
halt beside Fabian in the village square Mistral ran a critical eye over the
apprentices.  They were taking part in a simple target session with throwing
knives, but were so unnerved by Leo’s bad-temper that they were making a
complete hash of it.  Knives were flying everywhere but at the targets.

‘Time to
rescue them I think.’  Fabian murmured to Mistral.

‘Allow
me!’  Mistral replied quickly.  ‘I’m sure Leo will want a full
debrief from you anyway.’

Fabian took
her reins while she swung herself out of the saddle and turned to Grendel.

‘Pass me that
sack brother!’

Grendel
dropped a bulging sack onto the ground with a heavy thud, eliciting a chorus of
angry squeaks from the creatures tied up inside.  Grabbing the neck of the
sack Mistral dragged it into the Arena.

‘Morning
Master Sphinx!’  she called brightly.  ‘Throwing knife practise today
is it?’

Leo nodded
curtly and strode past her without a word, his blue eyes barely grazing over
the squirming sack she was dragging behind her.

‘Oh, this is
going to be good!’  Xerxes leapt from his horse and quickly tied the reins
to the Arena fence.  ‘Care to make a small wager?’

‘Five coins on
the apprentice that’s got yarthkin blood in him.’  Brutus said quickly,
joining his brother at the fence.

‘Huh! 
Ignore the yarthkin!  He might see better than the others, but his aim’s
terrible!  I’ve seen him in archery sessions.  I think he actually
hit the door of The Cloak!’  Cain snorted and pulled his mare over to tie
her next to Xerxes’ horse.  ‘My money’s on the half-elf, he can shoot!’

‘Ah, but can
he throw?’  Phantasm asked, leaning against the fence and eyeing the
apprentices calculatingly.  ‘I’ll bet on that one there, he looks like
he’s got dryad blood.’

‘Right then
first years!’  Mistral called loudly.  ‘I want you all in a line
facing the north end of the Arena … no that’s south, turn the other way –’ she
rolled her eyes and pointed the bewildered looking apprentices to the correct
end of the Arena. 

‘Hitting a
static target is pointless!  Very rarely does an enemy obligingly stand
still for you, so to help you improve your skills at striking moving objects
I’ve brought in a few helpers,’ she paused and gestured to the sack on the
floor, moving around apparently of its own accord.  ‘Now, just to make
things interesting, the apprentice who brings down the most gets free drinks
from the rest of you in The Cloak tonight!’

The
apprentices gave each other wide-eyed looks.  A Lieutenant encouraging
them to drink? 

‘Knives
ready?’  Mistral looked at them all questioningly then bent and grabbed
the neck of the sack.  ‘Good!  Here we go then!’

Pulling off
the string around the neck of the sack, Mistral tipped it upside down and shook
out the contents.  A mass of angrily chattering spriggans tumbled out and
immediately began to scurry around on tiny bowed legs.  For a brief moment
the apprentices were too stunned to act then chaos erupted.  Knives were
suddenly flying everywhere , apprentices shoved and jostled each other, trying
to get a clear shot at the small furry creatures scampering all over the
Arena.  Mistral retired to the fence to join her brothers and watch the
pandemonium, pressing her hands to her eyes in despair when two of the
apprentices collided and immediately started brawling when neither would
apologise.  Her brothers were in gales of laughter at the mayhem; shouting
encouragement and helpful advice then letting out a collective groan of
sympathy when one first year managed to fling his knife successfully into the
leg of another.

‘At least one
of them hit something!’  Cain said cheerfully, leaning his elbows onto the
fence with a huge grin on his face.

‘I’m just glad
Leo and Fabian have gone.’  Mistral muttered, wincing when one first year
flung himself bodily over a spriggan to stop it making a dash for freedom, only
to leap up again with a shriek of pain when the angry creature sunk its sharp
teeth into him.

‘Oh, for
crying out loud!’  Exhaling irritably, Mistral grabbed a handful of
throwing knives from the belt around Cain’s waist and threw one after the other
in rapid succession, deftly felling the tiny creatures that had defeated the
apprentices.

‘Damn, did
anyone bet on her doing that?’  Xerxes scowled and scanned the list of
wagers he’d taken. 

‘I did.’
 Phantom said smugly.  ‘Knew she wouldn’t resist the chance to show
off!’

‘That was
abysmal!’  Mistral howled at the startled first years then stormed over to
pull apart the two still rolling around in the dirt.  ‘And if you two are
going to insist on fighting during my training sessions at least do it
properly!  You look like you’re cuddling each other!  What the hell
do you think your fists are for?’ 

‘Ramming in
their mouths to stop them from crying by the look of them.’  Brutus said,
leaning on the fence with an amused grin.

‘This is
better than cards.’  Xerxes sighed with pleasure.  ‘It’s a shame I’ve
got to work, I could quite happily spend the summer out here watching this
lot!’

‘Ah, work.’
 Samson said quietly.  ‘I think I feel the need to travel.  In
fact, I’m going to see Bragg and Napier and see if there’s some mercenary work
going.’