The Seer (98 page)

‘Right, well,
reading four tiers instead of fifty Councillors certainly makes my job a lot
easier, but it’s still a lot of work for the twins – they’ll have to memorise
where each Councillor is sitting to be able to make sense of my readings and
influence the correct ones!’

‘That’s easy
Mistral, we already know where each Councillor will be sitting.’  Phantom
said, looking slightly smug.

‘Done the
seating plans for Mage Grapple have you?’  Mistral snapped, irritated by
his supercilious tone.

‘Councillors
have designated seats attached to the role they fulfil.’  Fabian
explained.  ‘They never change and are passed on to the next incumbent
when a Councillor retires, hence Vilius De’ath now sits where Putreo once did.’

‘Oh right.’
 Mistral nodded and ignored Phantom’s conceited smile.  ‘So I read a
tier and a time then either look left for Leo or right for Malachi. 
That’s easy enough … or I could just read the whole chamber at once and give
you an overall idea of how the voting will go?’

‘Show-off.’
 Phantom muttered and Mistral couldn’t resist giving him a smirk.

‘Hang on.’
 Mistral suddenly frowned mid-smirk.  ‘You’re still going to need to
know the individual decisions of each councillor aren’t you?  Or else
how’ll you know who to influence?’

‘We’ll work it
out Mistral.’  Phantasm said.  ‘Look –’ He drew a folded piece of
parchment from his saddlebag and spread it out on the ground. 

Mistral leaned
over to see a semi-circular drawing with four corresponding arcs inside; the
Council chamber.  The name of each of the fifty Councillors had been
painstakingly recorded along the tiers, indicating where each sat and what role
they fulfilled.  Mistral read a few of the names and instantly recognised
the handwriting as being Phantasm’s distinctive flowing script.

‘You drew
this?’  She frowned at him.  ‘Why?’

He smiled
faintly, not lifting his eyes off the parchment, ‘Sometimes we take our work
home with us.’

Mistral
instantly felt Fabian’s displeasure.  He strongly disagreed with using the
twins’ gift to influence any decisions, never mind Council ones.  Mistral
guessed that had been done at Leo’s request.  She couldn’t feel
disappointed with the twins for agreeing to Leo’s demands; they could hardly
refuse since they owed him their apprenticeships and, just like her, were bound
to him until the debt was paid.  Curious to know how Leo felt about having
his underhand behaviour exposed, she opened her mind a little while she bent
over the parchment, letting Leo’s thoughts shower her mind like icy drops of
rain.  They were typically cold, focussed purely on the forthcoming
vote.  He felt neither guilt nor shame at having his interference in
Council matters exposed; for him the ends justified the means.  Mistral
had to say that in this instance she agreed with him ... Malachi was hardly
abiding by the rules either. 

‘So, even if
Mage Grapple insists on you waiting in a separate room to us while the vote is
being held, we’ll still know the overall decision of each tier.  Using
this plan we can work out fairly accurately who’ll have been susceptible to
Malachi’s bribe and influence enough numbers to ensure a slight, but definite
win.’

‘Should it
come to that.’  Fabian said quietly, his disapproval apparent in the hard
set of his mouth.

‘Oh, I agree
with you Mage De Winter.’  Phantasm nodded.  ‘To have Master Sphinx
confirmed as the Ri’s Divinus through merit alone is how it should be. 
However, we would be deluding ourselves if we were not prepared for this vote
to be a celebration of corruption and bribery.’

‘Tell me
something brother.’  Mistral murmured while she scanned the names written
on the parchment.  ‘Have you ever tried to influence more than one person
at a time?’

The twins
shared a surprised look.

‘Well, no,’
Phantasm admitted.  ‘We’ve always worked on strengthening our power of
influence over the recipient, and range of course – remote influence is a
formidable tool, but I don’t think we’ve ever considered attempting to increase
the coverage –’

‘How about you
have a go at increasing the coverage right now?’  Mistral cut across him
impatiently.  ‘It would certainly make tonight a whole lot
easier!’   

‘While we
ride, if you please.’  Leo ordered curtly.  ‘It is time we
left.  Phantasm, do you have my speech drafted out?’

Phantasm
nodded and passed Leo a thick roll of parchment which he immediately unrolled
and began to read. 

‘Er, Master
Sphinx?’

Leo did not
look up from his speech, ‘What is it Phantasm?’ 

‘Would you
have any objections to us attempting to influence you and Mage De Winter whilst
we ride?  Only our gift is ineffective on Mistral.’

‘Is it?’ 
Leo looked up with a sharp frown. 

Phantasm nodded,
keeping his face carefully neutral, ‘The Sight protects her mind from outside
influence.’

Or there’s
actually nothing in there to influence …

Mistral pulled
a face at Phantom but quickly turned back to watch Leo’s expression with secret
amusement.  His frown deepened until it was nothing short of a
scowl.  She could feel his unwillingness to be the recipient of the twins’
gift battling with his innate ambitiousness.  If the twins were able to
influence multiple minds the possibilities were suddenly endless; entire
battles could be won without a drop of blood being shed and, on a less dramatic
note, contentious meetings controlled and the issues resolved without the usual
pointless arguing.

‘I have no
objections.’  Fabian said quietly.  ‘However, I would like to know
what suggestion you intend to plant in my mind, so that I am prepared for any
sudden unusual thoughts.’

Phantom
grinned but quickly changed it to a thoughtful nod when Mistral threw him a
warning glare.

‘Something
simple!’  Leo snapped.

‘Having a
drink of water.’  Mistral suggested quickly before Phantom could voice one
of the ridiculous ideas that kept popping into his mind.

‘That sounds
perfectly acceptable.’  Fabian said mildly and turned to look
questioningly at his brother.  ‘Do you agree Leo?’

Leo’s face was
expressionless but his thoughts were furious.  He gave a curt nod and
abruptly stood up.  ‘It is time we left.’

Mistral gazed
around distractedly while she rolled up her Wolverine skin.  The bleak
landscape depressed her, even in the bloom of late summer it was still too
barren, too exposed.  She missed the forests and yearned to be back there
again, riding beneath the dark tangle of branches where the sunlight rarely
reached.  Sighing dispiritedly, she wandered over to join the twins while
they prepared the horses for the final day’s ride into the city.  Bending
her inflexible body awkwardly to tighten Cirrus’ girth, Mistral stood back up
again to see Phantasm watching her closely.

‘What?’ 
she frowned.  ‘Is my hair a mess or something?’

‘Always,’ he
smiled.  ‘I was more concerned with what you were thinking about.’

‘Only the
forests,’ she replied, her eyes sliding out of focus to gaze unseeingly over
his shoulder.

‘That’s what I
was worried about,’ he murmured and swung himself into the saddle.

Fabian
appeared at her shoulder, dragging her attention back to the depressing fact
that she could no longer mount her own horse unaided. 

‘Ready?’ 
He enquired softly.

‘This is so
degrading,’ she muttered while he helped her up into the saddle.  ‘I
swear, Fabian De Winter, that once your son is born I am going hunting every
day for a whole damned year!’

‘Of course you
can Mistral.’

‘Don’t try and
appease me Fabian!’  Mistral snapped, pulling Cirrus’ head round and
kicking him sharply into a canter.  ‘I swear I will!’

Fabian watched
her ride away for a moment then turned and walked back to untether
Spirit.  Swinging quickly into the saddle, he pulled Spirit around to find
Phantasm riding by his side.

‘She’s growing
restless.’

Fabian’s face
hardened, he immediately kicked Spirit into a gallop to chase after the dark
haired figure cantering away from him. 

In accordance
with Fabian’s wishes, the travel had been light and the ride into the city
would only take them the morning.  The twins rode in silence behind Fabian
and Leo, their faces joint masks of concentration while they worked their
gift.  Although Fabian and Leo both seemed unusually thirsty and drank
frequently from their waterskins, it was never at the same time.

‘This could
grow wearisome.’  Fabian muttered, calling a brief halt due to the amount
of water the twins had influenced him to drink.

‘Now you know
how I feel.’  Mistral sighed and dismounted for the same reason. 

They halted
again at midday on the rise that afforded them the familiar, but still
impressive view of the Northern Range.  Cradled in the wide valley at the
mountain foot lay the capital of the Isle.  Mistral gazed down at the
sprawling city and noticed new houses being built right up against the inside
of surrounding the stone wall, giving the city the impression of bursting at
the seams with the wall now constraining, rather than protecting the
occupants.  From the height of the rise Mistral could make out ant-like
figures teeming through the complicated network of streets.  The first
time Mistral had seen the city she’d been reminded of a spider’s web, the
streets forming the finely spun threads spreading out from the gleaming white
building in the centre; the Council.  Sunlight reflected off the huge glass
cupola in the roof of the Council meeting chamber – the room where the future
of the Ri would be decided that very evening.  She stared down at the city
below.  Her first impression still held, only now the Council building
nestling in the centre was like a vast bloated spider, greedily waiting to
devour the next unsuspecting victim to be caught in its web. 

Which won’t
be us!
 Mistral vowed silently.  She had no misconceptions about
how they would be received at the Council.  Most Mages looked down upon
the Ri, viewing them as Craftless half-breeds, only fit to thieve and kill for
money.  And, if the Ri were a brotherhood of thieves and assassins, then
who could blame them?  What other choice did they have?  Mage rule
was absolute.  For them equality with the Arcane races was an
inconceivable concept.  Even the conspicuously impartial Mage Grapple had
made the mistake of assuming the twins’ gift was similar in nature to the
Craft, severely underestimating its power in the process … an oversight that
might just save the Ri’s future.

Mistral’s
attention was caught by a strange double movement from behind her.  She
turned to see Fabian and Leo both reaching for their waterskins at precisely
the same moment.  In perfect harmony they both uncorked their skins and
lifted them to their mouths.  Swallowing simultaneously, they corked their
skins and placed them down again, all without glancing once at what the other
was doing.

‘What?’ 
Fabian asked, bemused by Mistral’s sudden outburst of laughter.

‘They’ve done
it!’

‘Thank heavens
for that.’  Fabian sighed with relief.  ‘I have developed a lot of
sympathy for your condition over the course of this morning.’ 

Leo merely
scowled and strode off towards the privacy of an outcrop of rocks.

The twins
waited until Leo had gone before they grinned at each other. 

‘I knew we
could do it!’

‘Ah,
excellent!  We can influence the Councillors in pairs, halving the time
and the risk of discovery all in one fell swoop!’

‘Hmm, two is a
good start, but we should try and include Mistral now –’

‘Er, no
thanks, anyway, I’d hardly be a challenge would I?’  Mistral said quickly
and cast a longing glance at the outcrop of rocks.  ‘Oh thank goodness for
that!’

Leo had
returned and Mistral immediately hurried off towards the rocks.

By midday Leo
was once again leading them through the imposing city gates of the Council
stronghold.  They passed by the silent warlocks and were instantly
immersed into the chaos of the city’s market.  Forced to ride slowly and
in single file by the sheer volume of people, Mistral followed Fabian and let
her eyes wander over stalls crammed along either side of the street. 
Bright striped awnings threw shade over wooden tables laden with everything
from long rolls of garish silk to used cooking pots; all being enthusiastically
hailed as “the finest” and “the best in the city” by the stall holders, even
those selling the same goods as their neighbours.  In the harsh glare of
sunlight the displays looked depressingly tawdry.  They passed by a stall
selling wooden toys, most were poorly made and some were even broken.  The
stall next door was hung with rails of gaudy dresses cut in vulgar
styles.  A pack of stray dogs ran between the horses, startling Cirrus and
making Prospero growl.  It was all so unbearably loud; the bawdy shouts of
stallholders vying with each other, the noisy banter of the customers and the
constant barking of the stray dogs all seemed to blend in together and press in
on Mistral.  Her breathing quickened with the wave of claustrophobic panic
that washed over her.  In an attempt to repress the irrational fear she
called up an image of a crisp autumn morning in the forests, of cantering
through a carpet of fallen leaves lit by sunlight spilling through half-bare
branches.  Calmed by the picture in her mind, Mistral began to take notice
of her surroundings again only to wish she’d stayed inside her vision.

They had
ridden further along the market street and were now passing by rows of meat
stalls hung with fly-covered sides of beef and the ghoulish heads of
pigs.  The overpowering stench of raw meat immediately made Mistral’s
stomach churn.  Pressing a hand to her mouth she rammed her heels into
Cirrus’ sweating sides.  Ignoring the shouted curses of the people
scattering before Cirrus’ heavy hooves, Mistral urged him on into a canter,
desperate to reach the cool, clean air of the Council avenue.