The Seer (111 page)

‘Oh? 
What tavern’s that?  Cain asked sharply.

Xerxes and
Brutus shared a furtive look.

‘Can’t hide a
secret from a Seer I suppose.’  Brutus shrugged.

‘Our tavern
brother.’  Xerxes said in response to Cain’s question.  ‘The route to
the Council needs a decent stopover, and we plan to open one and call it “The
Den of Iniquity”.’ 

‘Nice
name!’  Cain laughed.  ‘And need I ask which of you two came up with
that inspired creation?’

‘Me, of
course!’  Xerxes announced proudly.

‘Actually it’s
going to be named “The Fallen Warrior”.’  Brutus corrected in a quiet
voice.  ‘We were going to call it “The Fallen Star” but, well, let’s just
say that recent events have changed our minds.’

‘And here
comes the new barmaid of this fantastical tavern.’  Cain muttered into his
tankard as Marietta burst through the door and flew across the room to launch
herself at Xerxes.

‘Did you know
that she took one of his longbows and climbed up onto the roof of the stables
to shoot at the Rochfortes when we were attacked?’  Mistral said, giving
Marietta an appraising look.  ‘She wasn’t a bad shot either.’

‘Best not tell
Xerxes, the fear might affect his performance –’

Mistral
laughed and promptly choked on the mouthful of ale she was drinking.

‘Is that your
second?’  Phantasm demanded, giving her a hard look.

‘Might be.’
 Mistral responded flippantly.  ‘But I think I’m due a little light
relief, don’t you?’

Phantasm
glared at her and reached out to grab the tankard in her hand but Cain shook
his head at him from across the table.

‘Leave it, no
harm can come now, in fact, it might help.’

Phantasm
retracted his hand slowly and sat back in his chair to watch Mistral laughing
at a joke Brutus was telling her, but behind the laughter he could see evidence
of pain she was being careful to disguise.  He continued to regard her
closely, noting that every so often her face would become fixed and her breath
shorten; signs too subtle to be noticed in the lively atmosphere of the tavern,
but as blatant to him as a flaming torch held aloft in the darkness.

They whiled
away the afternoon in a pleasant haze of ale, cards, and storytelling; many of
which were at the expense of Xerxes who seemed to have spent most of the
round-trip to Spain disgracing himself in some way.

‘Yes, but at least
I didn’t make the rash bet of running naked around the deck twice on a
decidedly poor hand of cards!’  Brutus declared drunkenly. 

Xerxes shot
his brother a warning look, ‘You swore you wouldn’t mention that!’

‘Did I?’ 
Brutus gave his brother a lop-sided grin.  ‘Then more fool you for
believing me!’

Mistral
laughed and leaned back in her chair.  Ignoring the sporadic griping pain
in her abdomen, she smiled fondly at the two brothers. 

‘Ah, it’s good
to be back.’  Brutus sighed and reached for the tankard of ale in front of
him.  ‘It’s just a pity we left in the first place.’

Mistral looked
down at her tankard to hide her expression, sharing through her gift in his
guilt at not being in the Valley the night of the Rochforte invasion, but
feeling none of his regret.  She glanced at Xerxes, now balancing the
curvy Marietta on his lap while he dealt a hand of cards.  She had Seen in
his mind the plans he and Brutus had made to run a tavern ... Marietta the
buxom barmaid; Xerxes running card games and Brutus the welcoming host. 
It would be a roaring success, of that she had no doubt.  The brothers
were blessed with a wealth of experience in all aspects of running a successful
tavern; drink, gambling and eye-catching barmaids ... Mistral caught a fleeting
thought from Xerxes and sighed.  It looked as though he planned to
increase their staff to include several members from his army of sweethearts,
which Mistral immediately saw causing a few problems with Marietta ... she
would have to have a word with him –

‘That’s your
last one!  I mean it!’  Phantasm’s voice broke into her thoughts as
he placed another half-tankard of ale down on the table in front of her.

‘Ah, thanks
brother,’ she smiled hazily at him and lifted her tankard in a toast to the
twins; her brothers.  In just three short years they had gone from being
dispossessed half-breeds to becoming the Gemini and being offered a place on
both the Magnate and the Mage Council.  ‘You know I love you all don’t
you?’  She said suddenly, eliciting an outbreak of laughter from around
the table and a glare from Marietta.

‘Ale and
hormones,’ sighed Cain.  ‘Not a good mix.’

‘Time to go I
think.’  Phantasm said, rising to his feet.

‘No need,
Fabian’s just outside.’  Mistral said with a hiccup.

‘Good, I want
a word.’  Cain rose to his feet and waited for the twins to help Mistral
up.

‘Can’t wait to
see Mage De Winter’s face when we return his pregnant wife to him tipsy.’
 Phantom muttered nervously.

‘I’ll handle
it.’  Cain replied and walked ahead of them to open the door. 

The cool
twilight air did a lot to restore Mistral’s clarity of mind.  She managed
not to wobble at all while the twins walked her towards where Fabian, Leo and
Mage Grapple were talking together in the square, waiting for Clovis to bring
the horses from the stables.

‘Ah, Lady De
Winter, I was hoping to have the opportunity to speak with you, face-to-face,
before I left.’

Face-to-
face …
Mistral smiled vaguely, hoping that for once, she was managing to
conceal the guilt that flooded through her at his words … Mage Grapple knew she
had heard every word spoken during their meeting.

‘Perhaps you
would care to take a walk with me before I leave?’ 

‘Er, yes, of
course.’

Casting a
hesitant glance at Fabian who nodded and smiled, Mistral fell in step beside
Mage Grapple.  They walked together towards the paddock in silence, there
he halted and leaned his hands against the fence to gaze out at the dark
silhouettes of the grazing horses.

‘You heard, of
course?’

Mistral cringed;
suddenly wishing she hadn’t let Phantasm persuade her to eavesdrop on the
meeting, ‘Yes,’ she admitted in a quiet voice 

‘Good, I hoped that the Gemini would realise my intentions and persuade
you to share the news with the other warriors,’ he said in a satisfied voice
then turned to fix her with his unsettling stare.  ‘Now, will you accept
my offer?’

‘I – I am flattered that you would even consider me.’  Mistral
began and hesitated, glancing down at her pregnant state.  ‘But –’

‘Lady De Winter, we both know that you do not need to travel to be
present in any meetings you wish to attend.’  Mage Grapple interrupted
sharply.  ‘I feel it is paramount that you are involved in the decisions
made on the Isle’s future as an extremely gifted individual, not because you
have been paid to attend!’

‘Oh … right,’ Mistral floundered, uncertain of what to say.  ‘Er,
well, in that case, I suppose so –’

Mage Grapple suddenly smiled, the unfamiliar action transforming his
scarred face into that of a younger man, ‘I thank you for your graceful
acceptance and welcome you to my Council.  I look forward to your
attendance, and to meeting your son when he arrives, Lady De Winter.’

Mistral cast a rueful glance at herself again, ‘I’m more of a lady in
waiting at the moment.’

Mage Grapple abruptly laughed, startling some of the horses grazing
nearby, ‘Indeed you are, and my Council awaits my return.’ Turning sharply on
his heel Mage Grapple began to stride back towards the two waiting warlocks,
already mounted on their warhorses.

On impulse Mistral suddenly called out to the dark robed figure
sweeping away from her, ‘Mage Grapple?’ 

Mage Grapple turned to raise a scarred eyebrow questioningly at her,
‘Yes Lady De Winter?’   

‘Can I ask you something, a favour, well a bit more than that actually;
in fact, it might be quite hard work, especially if she’s anything like me –’

Mage Grapple listened to her ramblings politely for a moment before
cutting across her with a terse, ‘Please … ask.’

Mistral drew in a deep breath, ‘I know it’s normal to wait until the
child is born, or even conceived as it is in this case, but well, normal
doesn’t really apply to me does it?  But … when I have my daughter,
Delphine, will you … would you … be her godfather?’

A silence fell while Mage Grapple stared at her with a frozen
expression and Mistral suddenly realised how Fabian felt when he asked her a
heartfelt question and she did the same to him.

‘Please?’  she finally added, biting her lip anxiously.

Mage Grapple suddenly smiled, his mutilated face transforming to become
that of the man Delphine De Winter had fallen in love with so many years ago.

‘I would be honoured, Lady De Winter, as I always am whenever I am in
your presence.’

‘Oh, thank you.’  Mistral sighed with relief.  ‘Only I don’t
think my brothers will make very good role models, and well, if I’m anything to
go by then she might turn Fabian prematurely grey.’

‘If your daughter is blessed with half your spirit then she will do
nothing but light up De Winter’s world, I assure you.  But now Lady De
Winter, unless you have any more requests to make of me, I must be taking my
leave now.’  Mage Grapple gestured with his hand for her to walk beside
him again.

‘Is Mage Grapple really smiling?’  Phantom whispered to his twin.

Phantasm glanced over at Mistral and Mage Grapple talking together
while they walked slowly back from the paddock. 

‘It would appear so brother.’

‘Do you think half-drunk pregnant women amuse him?’

‘Possibly … who can say with Mage Grapple?’

‘Mistral can.’

‘Hmm, well it
looks like we’re not going to find out whatever she said to make him smile
tonight.’  Phantasm said, watching Fabian immediately break off his
conversation with Cain to stride over to Mistral.  Placing an arm around
her he swept her from the square before either of the twins had a chance to
question her on the cause of Mage Grapple’s sudden outbreak of mirth.

Mistral awoke
later in the night, panting with pain.  Steadying her breathing she stared
up at the ceiling and waited for the spasm to pass.  When the pain eased
she glanced over at Fabian and was relieved to see that she had not woken
him.  She lay completely still, watching his chest rise and fall in deep
even breaths; his face so peaceful in sleep and so still that she had to resist
the urge to trace the outline of his jaw with her finger just to feel the
warmth of his skin.  She closed her eyes and tried to match her breathing
to the soothing rhythm of his but couldn’t when the pain returned, sharp and
insistent; forcing her to clench her teeth to prevent the gasp it demanded.

Knowing that
sleep would evade her while it persisted, Mistral slid quietly from the
bed.  Grabbing her shirt and trousers from the back of the chair she stole
from the room and tiptoed down the stairs to dress before the dying embers of
the fire.  Finally slipping her feet into her unlaced boots she eyed her
dog, asleep on the sofa.

‘Fancy a walk
boy?’  she whispered.

Prospero
immediately bounded from the sofa and trotted to the door, wagging his tail
eagerly.

Swinging on
her favourite velvet cloak Mistral smiled at how he had gone from comatose to
fully alert at one whisper of the word “walk”.  She unlatched the front
door, letting him out before stepping through and closing it quietly behind
her.  Pausing on the top step she looked up at the star-strewn sky and
inhaled the cold air, her smile deepening with a sudden burst of joy at doing
something impulsive again.  Going out with her dog in the middle of the night
… just the sort of thing she would have done before she was hounded into
captivity by her responsibilities; warrior, wife, Seer, Council Member …

Mistral drew
up the hood of her cloak and walked down the steps, letting her feet carry her
through the cobbled streets of the village without really caring where they led
her, enjoying the night air; the solitude.  Freedom.  Before she knew
it Mistral was walking out through the North Gate and into the meadows,
bleached of colour by the moonlight to a lifeless grey.  Mistral neither
cared nor noticed how bleak the meadows were made to appear by the moon, she
was completely alone, and it was heaven.  She continued to walk in no
particular direction, her cloak sweeping through the long grass the only sound
to break the stillness.  Prospero was pressed so closely to her side that
their shadows entwined to create a strange hybrid creature, rippling over the
ground beside them. 

‘My shadow,’
she murmured, dropping a hand to stroke his head.  ‘I should have renamed you
Shadow – Oh!’

Caught by a
sudden spasm of pain Mistral cried out and fell to her hands and knees. 
There she stayed, her eyes screwed up tight and her breath coming in hard gasps
until it passed, leaving her panting with relief while Prospero whined unhappily
and licked her hand.

‘S’alright
boy, I’m fine now … just another
really
big kick –’

Standing up
slowly, Mistral let the cool night air dry the sweat from her face while her
breathing returned to normal.  Opening her eyes once again her gaze
instantly fell upon the forests.  Too dense to allow the moonlight to
penetrate, the shadowed trees blended to create an unbroken line of black at
the meadows’ edge.  She stared at the sprawling darkness and felt an
instinctive pull, as natural and undeniable as the ebbing tides or changing of
seasons.  Mistral began to walk towards the forests with a suddenly
purposeful stride, driven by the need to be amongst the trees, to see the
impenetrable spread of branches eclipse the moon and hear the soft whisper of
leaves beneath her feet.  Nothing else mattered … the forests filled her
mind.   Reaching the treeline she stepped into the sudden blackness
with a blissful sigh and paused, resting a hand lightly on Prospero’s head
while she allowed her eyes to adjust.  Prospero whined softly and Mistral
smiled, looking down to see him staring back at her with pale eyes that gleamed
brightly in the darkness.