The Seer (87 page)

The twins
watched the rangy warrior lope away across the square. 

‘He’s been
quiet the last couple of days.’  Phantom mused.

‘Hmm,
something’s definitely amiss … I wonder what.’

‘I wish I had
her gift.’  Phantom looked over at Mistral, busy giving the windswept
treatment to the apprentice who had thrown a knife into another’s leg. 
‘Then I’d know everything!’

‘Thank heaven
for small mercies.’  Cain muttered and untied his horse from the fence.

‘Show’s over.’
 Xerxes sighed.  ‘Better go see Scrimshaw, then maybe I ought to find
Marietta –’

‘I’d put your
armour on first if I were you brother.’  Brutus reminded him.  ‘She
might not have forgiven you for the slight misdemeanour with the nymphs at
Grendel’s wedding.’

Xerxes smiled
broadly, ‘I’d forgotten about that!  I wonder if they’re still around.’

‘Oh my
Grendie-Wendie!  You’re back!’ 

They all spun around
at the dramatic wail that rang out over the village square to see Liliana
running towards Grendel with her arms out wide. 

‘Grendie-Wendie?’ 
Brutus laughed.  ‘Nice nickname!’

‘Hmm, maybe
I’ll skip seeing her sisters and just find Marietta.’  Xerxes said,
pulling a face at the sight of Liliana covering Grendel with ecstatic
kisses.  ‘At least she calls me by my real name.’

‘She might
call you by a few others today brother.’

May blended
seamlessly into the long sun-soaked days of June.  Mistral’s weeks flew by
in a whirl of training or mind-numbing Council meetings chaired by Mage
Grapple.  She would spend those boring hours in the airless Meeting Room
with a vague look on her face, leaving her own mind to visit Malachi or Golden,
but more often than not, to send the tendrils of Sight out across the Isle; searching
for the mind of someone she had never met, but felt like she knew.

I’m
bored.  What’s Malachi doing?

Phantom’s
thought pulled at the edges of her consciousness, dragging her mind back to the
stifling warmth of the Meeting Room and the drone of voices.  Despite the
fact that it was June, a fire was blazing on the far side of the room and
Mistral was amused to see the two Mages sat nearest to it sweating profusely.

Hmm, it’s
probably the first time they’ve ever broken sweat in their lives … but come on
Mistral!  Let me know what’s happening outside this boring meeting. 
Has Golden had her hair done again?  Where’s Malachi now?  Oh, don’t
suppose you can tell me what Floris has on the menu for lunch today, can
you?  I’m starving …
 

Mistral sighed
and glanced at Phantom.  His face gave away none of the inane ramblings of
his thoughts; he was gazing with apparent interest at the meeting taking place
regarding possibly the most turgid matter Mistral had ever been forced to
listen to.  The riveting purpose of today’s meeting was to approve a
proposed revision on the current methods for disposal of organic waste on the
Isle.  Mage Grapple had insisted she and the twins attend purely to ensure
that his Councillors stayed awake long enough for a decision to be made, claiming
their presence added a certain tension to meetings that greatly accelerated the
process.  Mistral suppressed a yawn; if this was Mage Grapple’s idea of a
tense meeting then she would hate to be around in a boring one.

Deciding to
ignore her brother’s demand for information, Mistral allowed her mind to wander
again, reaching out with her mind again, searching –

‘Yes!’

Her victorious
exclamation drew a few startled glances from the Councillors and an enquiring
look from Mage Grapple.

‘Oh, er sorry,
got carried away,’ she muttered and bowed her head quickly to hide her
triumphant expression.  She had found what she was looking for.  Now
all that remained was to work out what to do about it.

The meeting
crawled to a close and by midday Mistral and the twins were heading down to The
Cloak for lunch.

‘That meeting
redefined boring.’  Phantom complained with a yawn. 

‘But not for
you apparently, Mistral.’  Phantasm gave her an intrigued look. 
‘What did you See?’

‘Oh, just the
usual.’  Mistral shrugged evasively.

‘Does “the
usual” make you jump out of your chair shouting “yes” at the top of your
voice?’ 

‘I didn’t leap
out of my chair!’

‘Don’t avoid
the issue!  What did you See that was so thrilling?’

‘None of your
business.’  Mistral snapped and strode ahead of them to avoid any further
questions.

The twins
shared a look and hurried after her, gliding soundlessly up on either side and
slipping their arms through hers to trap her between them.

‘You’re a
terrible liar Mistral.’  Phantasm began. 

‘It’s so
obvious that you’re up to something!’  Phantom continued.

Mistral lifted
her chin in a familiar stubborn expression that made the twins smile.

‘Ah, now that
just confirms it.’

‘No brother,
it confirms nothing!  Only that you’re nosier than a sackful of fairies!’

Despite their
best efforts, Mistral refused to be drawn.  Although she had seriously
considered asking the twins for their help with her half-formed plan, she
guessed it would only cause an argument between them.  Whilst Phantom
would be only too eager to use their gift for what Mistral was trying to
achieve, the more principled Phantasm would be likely to view it as a misuse
and refuse to help.

Ignoring
Phantom’s repeated demands to be told what she was up to, Mistral kept her
plans to herself while she deliberated on exactly what to do next.  The
weeks passed quickly and before she knew it three weeks had gone by and she
still hadn’t made a decision.  Her brothers had returned to the Valley and
left again on various Contracts but Samson still hadn’t returned from the
mercenary work he’d taken on their return from the Northern Range, which was
another sticking point in her plans. 

It was Friday
lunchtime and Mistral had just escaped a meeting between Leo and the local
farmers to discuss the growing knucker problem.  The meeting had been cut
mercifully short when she Saw that one of the farmers had actually been
trapping knuckers and releasing them onto the neighbouring farmland in revenge
for an ancient dispute no-one seemed to be able to remember the cause of. 
Mistral had left the meeting when it had disintegrated into a brawl, forcing
Leo to leap between two red-faced farmers intent on rearranging each other’s
features with their fists. 

Making her way
down to The Cloak to meet the twins, Mistral paused at the Training Arena to
watch Fabian finishing a sword session.  Under his calm instruction the
first years were steadily improving.  Despite Mistral’s shambolic episode
with the spriggans, they had finally progressed on to actually being able to
hit a moving target that was not one of the other apprentices.  She leaned
her elbows against the fence, feeling the swell of her pregnancy press against
the hard wood she sighed.  The apprentices might be growing in confidence,
but she was just
growing.

While Fabian
spoke quietly with each apprentice before he dismissed them, Mistral fell to
musing on her problem … how to go about the next part of her plan without
alerting either of the twins or Fabian to what she was up to.  Fabian
would definitely fall into the Phantasm camp of disapproval on this one...

When the last
apprentice had left the Arena, Fabian walked over to her with an easy smile
lighting his face.  He was so much more relaxed now she’d settled into
their new life in the Valley.  Most of their days were spent together with
the apprentices, apart from when Mistral was required to battle sleep during
one of Leo or Mage Grapple’s meetings.  Their evenings were spent either
in the blissful privacy of their house or enjoying talk-filled dinners with the
twins.  Once training had finished on a Saturday, Mistral and Fabian would
leave the Valley for their small mountain house and spend the rest of the
weekend there, wanting nothing more than each other for company.   

Mistral
smiled, watching Fabian’s eyes travel down over her body to rest on the bump
she had given up trying to conceal.  The summer was proving to be hot,
forcing her to finally admit defeat and wear some of the less frightening
looking dresses Eudora had made for her. 

‘I could get
used to seeing you in a dress,’ Fabian murmured, sliding his arms around her
and pulling her into a kiss over the fence.

‘Well don’t.’
 Mistral said, breaking away from him.  ‘Because it’s back to
trousers tomorrow, unless you think this is appropriate attire for training the
apprentices in?’

Fabian smiled
but said nothing.  Vaulting lightly over the fence he took her hand and
led her towards The Cloak.  ‘Allow me to buy you lunch, Lady De Winter.’

‘Less of the
Lady bit, but yes please, I’m starving!’  Mistral fell in step beside him;
turning to talk to him she noticed a slight tension in his jaw and listened
instead to his thoughts.  ‘I was going to ask how training went, but
instead I’m to ask you why you’re worrying about me, and,’ she paused, trying
to catch the thought that flew across his mind too fast for her to hear
clearly.  ‘Ah!  Got it!  Why you’re wondering whether you’ve got
time to go home and fetch your kukri knife?  What’s going on?’

Fabian sighed,
‘I was hoping to have presented you with a plate of food and a drink before we
had this conversation.’

‘Butter me up
you mean!’

He smiled
disarmingly and her annoyance instantly melted along with her ability to thinks
straight, as it always did whenever he looked at her that way.

‘Gleacher has
a Contract on offer that I have requested for the apprentices.’

Mistral
immediately snapped back to attention, ‘Great!  What is it?  It must
be good if you want your kukri knife, that thing could cut through metal!’

‘A gargillian
has made a nest on some farmland near the southern swamps.  It’s a perfect
opportunity for the first years to tackle something a bit more adventurous than
a knucker or a sack of spriggans.’

Mistral pulled
a face, ‘Let’s not mention that incident shall we?  But a
gargillian!  Fantastic!  I’ll go see Cain for some poison, then I can
provide back-up with a crossbow!’

Fabian opened
the door of The Cloak and turned to look at her with eyes of softest black
velvet.

‘Oh no,’ she
groaned, stepping inside.  ‘I know that look.  I’m not allowed to go
am I?’

He shook his
head fractionally, ‘Would you mind staying?  I would be happier knowing
that you and our son were not wading through a swamp hunting a gargillian.’

‘I
wouldn’t!  I’d be stood at the side, armed with a crossbow!’

‘But no doubt
secretly hoping to take it down with one of the three daggers you keep
concealed about your person!’

‘Only two
actually.’  Mistral replied tartly.  ‘No belt to tuck it in now,’ she
indicated towards the cotton dress she was wearing.

‘I noticed,’
he murmured, catching her with a look that could have set the Valley on fire.

‘Come and join
us!’  Phantom called, dousing her in the cold water of reality. 
‘I’ve ordered two plates of meat for you Mistral, since you seem to be able to
eat a horse these days!’

Mistral
blinked, instantly forgiving Phantom for ruining yet another private moment
with Fabian.  Eat a horse?  An idea began to take shape in her mind,
she looked blankly at the chair Phantom was holding out for her, seeing not the
pitted wood beneath his hands but the bleached wooden planks of a ship’s deck …
the timing was a bit tight, but it
might
just work –

‘Thanks
brother.’  Mistral said and dropped gratefully down onto the chair he was
holding out for her. 

‘Good
meeting?’  Phantasm asked.

‘Wonderful.’
 Mistral sighed heavily.  ‘The highlight was when two of the farmers
decided to have a fight.’

‘Oh?  Who
won?’

‘Leo.’

‘Of course he
did.’  Phantasm smiled and poured her a glass of water from the jug on the
table. 

‘Any plans for
the weekend?’  Phantom asked without any real interest; it was a foregone
conclusion that Mistral and Fabian would leave as soon as training had finished
on Saturday.

‘Hmm, actually
yes.’  Mistral said, lifting her knife and fork and concentrating on
cutting up some of the meat on her plate.  ‘Clovis has been banging on
about going to the horse fair in Brintor, I thought I might go with him
tomorrow since Fabian’s banned me from joining the gargillian hunt he’s taking
the first years on.’

‘Do we need
another horse?’  Fabian enquired, sitting down beside her and passing her
a half-tankard of ale.

‘No, not for
us!’  Mistral smiled.  ‘For our son.’

Fabian’s
expression immediately softened, ‘Do you need some money?’

She shook her
head, ‘I’ve got some left from the dragon cull –’

‘Isn’t it a
bit soon to be buying him a pony?’  Phantasm asked, looking worried. 
‘He won’t be able to ride for quite a while!’

‘Centaurs are
full-sized by the end of their first year Phantasm.’  Mistral reminded
him.  ‘And anyway, if it needs any work, I’ll be able to school it before
he arrives.’

‘Or I will.’
 Fabian said quietly.

‘We both will
then.’  Mistral said firmly.  ‘But going to the horse fair will give
me something to do while you’re off having fun.’

‘Fun? 
It’s a gargillian hunt Mistral!’  Phantom exclaimed.

‘I know.’
 Mistral sighed wistfully.  ‘It’ll be great –’

Sunday morning
dawned with the promise of being another scorching day, the blue sky broken
only by a few faint wisps of clouds that would soon evaporate.  Mistral
could already feel the sun’s heat while she stood in the village square
watching Fabian giving the first years their final instructions.  She
smiled at the expressions on their faces, ranging from almost uncontainable
excitement to trepidation.  Fabian finished speaking and swung himself up
onto Spirit to begin the ride, gathering his reins he steadied his excitable
horse and turned to give Mistral a look that held more meaning than any gesture
or words of farewell possibly could.  She smiled in response and he immediately
turned Spirit in a sharp circle then gave the impatient mare her head, leaving
the village square in a clatter of hooves, swiftly followed by the
apprentices.  Mistral watched them all cantering down the path to the
Valley’s South Gate until the last one had vanished from her sight. 
Turning away with a sigh, she walked over to meet Clovis in the stableyard.