The Seer (93 page)

‘Secondly,’
Mistral continued, narrowing her eyes in concentration, ‘you must build a new
library at the school and name it after him.  Changing the elven language
taught to that of his tribe’s goes without saying.

‘Lastly, the
emblem of his tribe must be added to the Ri’s banner.’

Gleacher gazed
at her with newfound respect but Leo dismissed the idea with an impatient wave
of his hand, ‘There is no other emblem on the banner!  It is plain
black!  If I placed the tribe of Wolfsnare’s emblem on that it would look
like the Ri were his!  I cannot accept that!’

‘Then perhaps
you should adjust the banner to embrace all of the Ri.’  Mistral
suggested. 

‘All? 
There would not be room!’

‘Look.’
 Mistral grabbed a blank piece of parchment and dipped her quill into the
inkpot to sketch out a rough design.  ‘A wolf in honour of Bryden’s tribe,
a crescent moon to signify the potential of becoming complete, a dragon for the
symbol of the Isle and a tree to symbolise the forests, where most of the
Arcanes come from anyway … and make it circular to show that we’re all equal.’

They all
looked down at Mistral’s drawing, the four symbols revolving in a circle; the
wolf chasing the crescent moon shining onto the dragon that was captured in
flight before a spreading oak tree.

‘It would be
striking embroidered in white against a black background.’  Gleacher said,
nodding approvingly.

‘Wait.’
 Fabian murmured softly and leaned over to take the quill from Mistral’s
hand.  ‘Add a mountain beneath the dragon; many elven tribes inhabit the
mountainous regions too.’

‘Perfect.’
 Mistral breathed, gazing in admiration at the addition to her
design.  ‘All of the elements of the Isle unified on one banner.’

No knucker
though …

She grinned
and looked over at the twins, still on lookout duty at the long window. 
Neither turned to meet her look, but she heard their thoughts more clearly than
the murmured debate going on between Leo and Gleacher over  the proposed
design for the Ri’s new banner.

Not bad
Mistral …

Ah, if only
I’d know you had a talent for art, you could have decorated our house…

‘Chieftain
Wolfsnare has just left The Cloak and Dagger.’  Phantasm announced and
turned away from the window.  ‘I assume you wish us to take our leave
now?’

Leo looked up
and nodded curtly, ‘Yes, I think that we have achieved a solution that will not
need your gift.  Send in Serenity and Mycroft on your way out.’

The twins
nodded in unison and glided silently towards the door.  Mistral began to
rise from her chair to join them to find Fabian suddenly taking her hand;
gazing proudly at her while he escorted her to the door.

‘That was an
inspired suggestion,’ he murmured softly as they walked down the length of
room. 

She hid a look
of surprise.  Inspired?  It was common sense!  ‘Oh, it was
nothing.’

He paused by
the door and turned to look at her.  The twins had left the room
already.  Leo and Gleacher were engrossed in discussing the forthcoming
meeting at the far side of the room.  For a moment, they were alone.

‘I will come
and find you as soon as this meeting is over.’

She gazed
wistfully at him, ‘I don’t suppose you would consider shirking your duties for
once would you?  Just for me?’

Fabian shook
his head, his dark eyes amused, ‘I cannot, however I assure you that I will do
nothing to prolong it.’  Frowning suddenly, he lifted a hand to caress her
cheek.  ‘How do you feel?’

‘Fine … oh,
maybe a little tired … but then, when aren’t I these days?’

He continued
to gaze at her, his dark eyes drawing her in until she was drowning in their
inky depths, ‘Tired?  I am not surprised.  You read multiple minds
today Mistral, a feat Aloysius never accomplished.’ 

‘Didn’t
he?’  Mistral responded vaguely.  She couldn’t care less if the last
Divinus had juggled burning branches whilst reading the whole of the Council;
all she cared about right now was the way Fabian was looking at her. 

Fabian’s hand
dropped from her cheek to rest over the swell of her waist, ‘How tired?’ 
he murmured, the darkness of his eyes glowing with a fire that immediately
burned away any thoughts of an afternoon nap.

‘Not at all
now.’

‘Then once
this meeting is over I shall hold you to those wild promises you were
whispering in my ear on the stairs.’

Violent
thunder storms continued throughout the rest of July forcing Mistral and Fabian
to spend more time teaching the apprentices in the third floor Training
Room.  Even with the door left open to draw in any cool air from the
corridor, the atmosphere in the windowless room became unbearably close during
the heavy downpours.  Mistral was relieved to finally reach the end of
another long Saturday morning spent watching the apprentices shoot arrows
anywhere but into the row of targets lined up at the end of the room. 
Although they were continuing to make good progress in all aspects of their
training, for some reason they were still completely diabolical with a longbow.

‘I just don’t
get it!’  Mistral muttered to Fabian while they walked around the room
pulling arrows out of the padded flooring.  ‘Some of them are elven
born!  You’d expect them to have been using a longbow before they could
walk!’

‘I agree,
however I fear that the disastrous start to their year’s training has caused
them to lose confidence in their ability to handle the weapon.  We need to
approach the problem from a new angle; teach them in such a way that they learn
without realising it.’

‘Distraction
technique?  Like me stamping on Cain’s foot just before I pulled his
tooth?’

Fabian
chuckled softly, ‘Perhaps something more subtle is required in this case, but
yes, that is the theory.’

Placing the
arrows back into their container, they left the humid confines of the Training
Room and stepped gratefully out into the cooler air of the corridor to see the
last of the dispirited first years vanishing down the stairs ahead of
them. 

‘We could get
the twins to make them all think they’re really good.’  Mistral
whispered. 

‘Otherwise
known as cheating.’  Fabian smiled, taking her hand while they walked.

‘Well
something’s got to happen, or they’ll all fail to Qualify!’  Mistral
retorted.  ‘Our first year in charge and all the apprentices couldn’t
shoot a troll at five paces!  What does that say about us?’

‘That we are
facing a challenge and will find the right solution to overcome it.’
 Fabian replied firmly.

‘I wish I had
your strength of conviction.’  Mistral muttered.  ‘Do you think I
should resign before they all fail?  I’m not sure I can face the shame!’

Fabian laughed
and turned to pull her into his arms, kissing her in a way that immediately
reminded her that she had no shame anyway.  Releasing her with a wry
smile, they carried on walking together along the corridor, quietly discussing
the problem of the first years’ inability to shoot straight until they drew
near to the Meeting Room.  The door was open, they glanced as they walked
by to see Bryden, Leo and the stonemason from the village poring over a large
piece of parchment spread out on the table.

‘The plans for
the new school library.’  Fabian murmured.  ‘Building work will begin
when the school breaks for the harvest.’

‘Bryden was
really taken with the whole library in his honour idea.’  Mistral
whispered.  ‘I even heard him asking Gideon to come and teach “
his
”
schoolchildren elven!’

‘Bryden is
grateful to Leo for the opportunity of a continued influence on the Isle’s
development, and for affording him the chance to make a dignified exit from the
tribe.  He knew the time was right for him to step aside and allow Ares to
rule, but he also knew he could not remain in the tribe when that
happened.  It would have been impossible for him not to interfere in Ares’
decisions.’

‘I suppose
having ruled for a hundred years would be a hard habit to break.’  Mistral
agreed, thinking privately that Leo had only ruled the Ri for a couple of
months and was already insufferable – she dreaded to think what he would become
like in the coming years. 

They continued
to walk down the corridor to reach the first flight of stairs leading down to
the dorms.

‘Power is
addictive to some.’  Fabian murmured thoughtfully.  ‘However Bryden
had enough sense to know when his time was over, many do not.  Despite
that fact, I am certain what finally convinced him to accept Leo’s invitation
was the redesigning the Ri’s banner.  He was deeply honoured by the
inclusion of his tribe’s emblem.’

‘Gleacher told
me the new flag’s being flown from both the Ri’s ships now.’  Mistral said
as they began to descend the stone stairs.  

Fabian nodded,
‘And has been very well received by all accounts.  Samson has just
returned from a short Contract overseas and apparently all the warriors on
board were quite taken with the design.  Most of them felt it was high time
the Ri had more of a sense of identity than a faceless black flag.’

‘Samson’s back
in the Valley?  I haven’t seen him!’

‘I only saw
him myself this morning.  He’s been staying in Brintor for the last couple
of nights.’  Fabian explained then gave her an apologetic look.  ‘But
he’s eating at ours tonight; I forgot to tell you –’

‘Oh don’t
worry.’  Mistral responded airily.  ‘I heard you wondering what I was
going to cook tonight and guessed you’d invited someone round, I just didn’t
know who.  Anyway, I sent Phantom to the butchers for me – on the downside
that means they’re also coming to dinner now –’

Fabian
laughed, ‘How will I be able to surprise you ever again?’

Mistral looked
at him, ‘But you do.  Every day in fact – just by putting up with me.’

By the time
Samson arrived at their house another rainstorm had broken over the
Valley.  He strode into their small living room, laughing and shaking
drops of water from his hair before dropping a parcel tied up with ribbon onto
the sofa. 

‘A present
from my last trip for your good lady wife, well it’s for my godson actually but
I suppose Mistral will want to open it.’

‘Thank you.’
 Fabian smiled at his old friend.  ‘Mistral is just putting the
finishing touches to dinner.’

‘Dinner smells
good
!’  Samson inhaled the rich aroma of roasting beef
appreciatively and threw himself down into one of the battered armchairs. 
Stretching his long legs out with a grateful sigh he accepted the goblet of
wine Fabian offered him and took a long drink.  ‘Is that her I can hear?’ 
he suddenly asked and looked at the open door into the kitchen. 

Three voices
could clearly be heard speaking in French, two were arguing vociferously whilst
the third was more placating. 

Fabian glanced
through the open door to see Mistral threatening Phantom with a wooden spoon,
warning him in no uncertain terms that if he stole another roast potato she
would beat him to death with it; all in fluent French.  Wincing at some of
her more colourful words, Fabian turned back to Samson with a sigh.  ‘Yes,
that’s Mistral.  She’s been learning a lot of French in her sleep whilst
reading Christophe.’

‘She can read
people in her sleep?’  Samson raised his eyebrows interestedly and took
another swallow of wine. 

A shadow
crossed Fabian’s face, ‘Her gift is increasing so fast it’s almost
frightening.  I woke up last night to hear her talking in French,
repeating a conversation between Christophe, his Captain of the Guard, and
Malachi.’

‘All
three?  At once?’ 

Fabian nodded,
his dark eyes suddenly veiled, ‘She can read multiple minds now.’

‘Damn! 
That’s a neat trick!’  Samson exclaimed in an impressed voice.  ‘But
what did she hear?’

‘Later –’

‘Samson? 
Is that you?’  Mistral called through from the kitchen.

Fabian looked confused
but Samson gave an incredulous laugh and replied in the same language she had
greeted him in, ‘Yes Lady De Winter!  Present, correct, and damned
hungry.’

‘Good!’ 
Mistral reverted to their own language as she walked through from the kitchen,
grinning and wiping her hands on a linen towel.  ‘Because I think I’ve
cooked too much, as usual.’

‘When,’ Fabian
interrupted sharply, ‘did you learn to speak elven?’

‘Got bored in
The Cloak yesterday lunchtime, so I asked Brutus to teach me some.’
 Mistral explained with a casual shrug.  ‘It’s the mountain version,
but it’ll be good enough for me to understand what our son’s going to be
learning when he goes to school.’

Fabian closed
his eyes and leaned back against the sofa, ‘I suppose I had better brush up on
my elven or suffer you two talking behind my back.’

‘Do you want
the gravy putting on yet, oh bossy one?’  Phantom called from the kitchen.

‘Yes, if
you’ve left anything for us to pour it over!’  Mistral replied over her
shoulder then turned back to grin at Samson.  ‘Thanks for the gift by the
way, I know he’ll love it, although I’m not sure I want him to have his own set
of throwing knives for quite a while, even if they aren’t sharpened.  I
just hope Eloise can still run fast by the time he’s old enough to be chucking
them around.’

Samson shook
his head and laughed as Mistral vanished back into the steamy kitchen, ‘Ah
brother, I’m never sure whether to envy you or pity you for being wed to
Mistral.  You’re never going to be able to conceal a thing from her!’

Fabian smiled
softly, his dark eyes watching her while she laid the table, ‘That maybe so,
but remember that I never have to explain myself either.’

Samson’s
expression became rueful, ‘Yes, that can get a bit wearing.’

They ate and
talked of events in the Valley; Leo’s appointment of Bryden Wolfsnare and the
pleasing lack of Mage Grapple’s presence.  He had not visited the Valley
at all during July since neither Mistral nor the twins had been required at any
of his meetings; mainly because they were all concerning the contentious issue
of approving the next Divinus.  The Rochfortes’ supporters at the Council
were doing a good job of contesting Leo’s right to be the next Divinus; so far
the Council had met to debate the appointment three times and a decision had
still not been reached.  At Fabian’s request Mistral had spent an entire
day sporadically reading Mage Grapple’s mind during the last lengthy
meeting.  The debates she’d heard varied from being pointlessly tedious to
making her blood boil with rage; particularly when one Councillor had the
audacity to question whether they should permit a Mage to head the Ri, claiming
that he would have access to a power he had no training in, and therefore no
right wield.  Most were frustratingly boring, with one very nearly sending
her into a coma when she made the mistake of listening through Mage Grapple’s
mind to Councillor Rosenberg outlining a proposal to appoint a sub-committee to
debate the relevance of the title “Divinus”, arguing that it gave the bearer delusions
of grandeur. 

‘Most of the
arguments the Rochfortes’ supporters are putting forward against Master
Sphinx’s appointment are blatantly groundless.’  Phantasm sighed. 
‘But each has to be debated and ruled out before the next can be dealt with.’

‘Delaying the
whole process massively.’  Phantom continued while he attacked a slice of
roast beef.  ‘Which is exactly what Christophe and Malachi wanted to
achieve.’

‘Buying them
enough time to complete their plans and travel to the Isle.’  Phantasm
finished.  

‘It’s so
frustrating!’  Phantom exclaimed between mouthfuls.  ‘We could sort
the whole thing out from round this table!  Mistral could just tell us who
to influence at the vote and the whole messy business would be over!’

‘That would be
a mistake on two counts brother.’  Phantasm frowned.  ‘Firstly, you
know that Master Sphinx must be voted in legitimately and secondly, it would
not do for Mage Grapple to become aware of the fact that our gift is more
powerful than he believes.’

Fabian nodded
in agreement, ‘It suits our purpose well that Eximius is under the impression
that you must be in the same room as the recipient of your gift.’

‘But why does
he think that?’  Samson asked with a perplexed look.  ‘Eximius is
hardly a fool!  I can’t believe he’d make such a simple mistake!’

‘He is
comparing it to the Craft.’  Fabian replied.  ‘Line of sight is vital
when casting.’

‘Talking of
line of sight; your first years need a bit of sorting out at archery, don’t
they?  One of them nearly hit me from the Arena today, and I was outside
the stableblock!’ 

‘Shut up and
eat your dinner Samson.’  Mistral said sharply. 

Samson
laughed, ‘Proving unreceptive to your gentle instruction are they Lady De
Winter?’

Mistral pulled
a face, ‘Unreceptive would be an understatement.  They’re completely
useless with the longbow!’

‘Get Bryden to
teach them, he’s impressive with a bow.  You saw him shoot at The Festival
of the Arcane.’

‘Huh! 
Already asked Leo, but Bryden’s remit is second years only, it’s a status thing
apparently,’ Mistral waved a hand irritably then froze with her hand held in
mid-air.  ‘But you might just have hit upon something there Samson!’