The Seer (114 page)

‘Most considerate of you, I am sure Mistral will be delighted.’
 Fabian said with absolute sincerity and turned his attention to his
breakfast, leaving Mistral glaring daggers at Phantasm over her shoulder while
he pushed her out of the kitchen.

‘Don’t you need a hand getting everything ready for today
Fabian?’  Mistral tried in a desperate attempt to avoid being
force-dressed yet again.

‘No thank you Mistral, everything has been taken care of.’  Fabian
called back from the kitchen.

‘Nice try, but there’s no getting out of it.’  Phantasm said
smugly.  ‘Now please get a move on!’

‘This is the last time I ever let you do this.’  Mistral growled
through gritted teeth while he chivvied her up the stairs.

Capitalising on Phantasm being temporarily distracted by the sight of
his godson asleep in his crib, Mistral swiftly kicked the previous day’s
discarded clothes under the bed before he could nag her about not using the
wardrobe again.

‘I swear he’s grown since I last saw him!’  Phantasm said softly.

‘You think?’  Mistral responded absently while she made an effort
to straighten the tangled sheets on the bed. 

‘I’m certain of it.’  Phantasm murmured thoughtfully.  ‘And
that was only Wednesday … are you measuring him?’

‘Am I doing what to him?’  Mistral asked, finally paying some
attention to the conversation now the worst of the mess had been hidden.

‘Measuring him.’  Phantasm said, and wandered over to place the
parcel down onto the hastily made bed.  ‘He is one of a kind after all,
and you don’t really know how fast he’s going to grow.  It would be
helpful to have a record.’

‘Well, Cain’s been weighing him every day to make sure he’s gaining
weight, but I don’t see how measuring him and keeping a record could be helpful
to anything.’  Mistral said, giving him a perplexed look.

‘For the next one Mistral!’  Phantasm said in a voice that
suggested it was blatantly clear why she should treat her son like some prize
plant she was growing.  ‘Then we could have clothes ready for every stage
of growth –’

‘I absolutely refuse to let you dress my son up like he’s a doll or
something!’

‘Don’t be stupid Mistral!’  Phantasm snapped and walked back over
to the crib to gaze down at his godson again.  ‘He’s going to be a
warrior, not some fancy robe-clad moron from the Council!’

‘Is he?’

‘Of course he is.’  Phantasm said and reached into the crib to
stroke his godson’s sleeping face.  ‘He’s the son of you and Mage De
Winter.  How could he be anything else but a warrior?’

‘Not destiny again.’  Mistral muttered and rolled her eyes.

‘No, not destiny.’  Phantasm murmured, still smiling indulgently
at the sleeping baby.  ‘Blood.’

While Phantasm continued to gaze adoringly at his godson, Mistral took
the opportunity to rip open the parcel and look at the dress he expected her to
wear, fully intending to chuck it out of the window if it was too
hideous. 

‘Oh, I hate you,’ she sighed while she examined a silk dress the colour
of fallen copper beech leaves.

‘Yes, and I hate you too.’  Phantasm responded evenly and moved
over to hold the dress up against her.  ‘But this dress will actually look
rather nice, so come on, time is ticking.’

Shoving her down onto a stool, phantasm began to attack her hair,
tutting loudly with each tangle he encountered, ‘Seriously Mistral, do you ever
brush it?’

‘Sometimes,’ she replied with a disinterested shrug then smiled. 
‘But when I do it usually just gets messed up again anyway.’

‘Thank you for that surfeit of information.’  Phantasm said
crisply and cast a disdainful glance at the half-made jumble of sheets on
Mistral and Fabian’s bed.  ‘I think you two should really consider tidying
this place up a bit before your lease finishes or Boaz will never give Mage De
Winter his security deposit back.’

‘No need.’  Mistral said dismissively.  ‘We’ve bought it.’

‘Oh?’ 

‘Hmm,’ she murmured distractedly, glancing over at the crib as her son
stirred in his sleep.  ‘Fabian kept back his share in the Unicorn
Contract, and well, with a little persuasion, it was enough to buy this place.’

‘I’m sure Boaz was delighted to do business with you again.’

‘Not really, but we persuaded him to see the sense in good business …
eventually.’

Phantasm laughed, ‘I almost feel sorry for him having you and Mage De
Winter bent on nailing him down on price, I’m surprised he didn’t actually give
it to you for free!’

‘Well, he did … nearly.  We also bought next door as part of the
deal.’

‘Need the space?’  Phantasm asked lightly.

‘Might do, one day.’

Phantasm smiled and finished coiling the long plait of hair up onto her
head.  Stepping back and tilting his head to admire the finished effect he
gave a satisfied nod.  ‘Good.  Now, do you require me to leave the
room while you get changed or are you going to stop being so ridiculously
modest now that I’ve seen you in labour?’

‘Leave.  Now.’  Mistral growled and pointed at the door.

Left alone in the room Mistral stared unhappily at the dress laid out
on the bed for a moment then wandered over to the window.  Wrapping her
arms around herself in an attempt to ease her disquiet she gazed out across the
red-tiled roofs to the village square and gave a low laugh of disbelief. 
Right in the middle of the cobbled village square, swept clean ready for the
ceremony and in the process of being decorated by Liliana and Marietta, was the
arresting sight of Brutus and Xerxes with their shirt sleeves rolled up chasing
her dog around in circles, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind them. 
Grinning, Mistral realised that Prospero was having another enforced bath and
leaned out of the open window to watch the comedy unfold, snorting with
laughter when Xerxes made a lunge for her dog only to slip on the wet cobbles
and land flat on his face.  Prospero immediately bounded back to stand
over him and give himself a vigorous shake, spraying Xerxes with soapy water
and eliciting squeals of protest from Liliana and Marietta.  Clapping a
hand to her mouth to prevent her laughter from waking her son, Mistral watched
Xerxes stagger to his feet, red-faced and swearing, his angry words carrying
clearly to her on the still morning air along with Brutus’ laughter and
Prospero’s joyous barking.   

Mistral turned
away from the window still smiling at her dog’s antics and sharing in his
aversion to being bullied into being made presentable.  Her gaze fell upon
the dress lying on the bed and the smile faded from her lips.  The Naming
Ceremony would be happening in a few short hours and Fabian still hadn’t said
whether he’d agreed on the name she had chosen for their son.  It wasn’t
that they had argued over her choice; Fabian said that they would name him as
she saw fit and he hadn’t gone back on his word, but she knew in his thoughts
that he was undecided.  Sighing, she bent down and undid the buckle of her
saddlebag to retrieve the necklace he had given her, hoping that by wearing it
she might soften him up a bit.  Lifting the flap she saw the faded gold
letters stamped on the underside and realised that she had undone his saddlebag
by mistake. 

F.C.DW. 
 

Mistral traced
the letters with her finger and smiled, imagining her son’s initial’s on his
own saddlebag
. 
Throwing off her shirt and trousers and kicking
them under the bed to join the rest of her clothes, she grabbed the dress and
had one arm in when Phantasm’s voice called irritably through the door. 

‘
Have
you died in there?’ 

‘No brother,
just escaping out of the window –’

The door
immediately opened and Phantasm rushed in, earning a startled shriek from
Mistral and waking up her son who promptly began to cry. 

‘Now look what
you’ve done!’  they chorused accusingly and hurried over to the crib.

While Phantasm
rocked the crib and sang a lullaby to soothe his godson, Mistral finished
dressing and was struggling with the clasp of the necklace when a familiar
touch brushed the skin at the nape of her neck.

‘Allow me.’

‘Thank you,’
she smiled at Fabian in the mirror. 

‘You look
beautiful,’ he murmured and dropped a kiss onto her neck.

‘Hmm,’ she
eyed herself in the mirror dubiously.  The dress revealed far too much of
her post-pregnancy curves for her liking, and in her opinion the diamond
necklace nestling against the exposed skin of her chest only drew attention to
that fact.

She studied
Fabian’s reflection while he finished lacing the back of her dress; his jaw was
shadowed by three day’s growth of beard and his hair hung in tousled locks to
the collar of a simple white shirt and he looked … divine.  Mistral sighed
at how unjust it was that he should look so good with such little effort, but
expected her to suffer Phantasm’s bullying and idiotic ideas about dressing
appropriately.

‘Now, Lady De
Winter, I have something for you.’  Fabian murmured, moving to her side he
lifted her hand and pressed his lips against the skin in a way that made her
forgive him instantly.  She gazed at him, lost in the love his dark eyes
were whispering to her while he kissed her hand.  When he released his
hold and smiled at her with velvet softness she realised that something felt
different.

‘Oh!’

Looking down
Mistral saw another ring pressed up next to the wedding band on her finger, a
row of three large diamonds glittered on a narrow circle of gold.  She
lifted her hand and to study the new addition and the diamonds caught the
sunlight, refracting the rays in bright rainbows of colour.  She smiled, thinking
how it would amuse her son to see that then sighed inwardly, if Fabian gave her
many more of the De Winter diamonds she would soon look like a jewellers window
display.

‘Oh Fabian,
it’s beautiful, but I already have a ring.’

‘Yes, a
wedding ring, but that is an eternity ring,’ he replied softly.

Her eyes met
his again, ‘I don’t need a ring to know that I will be with you for all of
eternity.’

‘I don’t think
there are enough diamonds in the world to compensate you for being cursed with
such a destiny.’  Fabian laughed and wound his arms around her waist to
pull her into a kiss.

‘We’re ready.’
 Phantasm said shortly, forcing Mistral and Fabian to reluctantly break
apart. 

Turning to
look at him with every intention of giving him death glares, she could only
smile stupidly at the sight of her son in his arms, awake and smiling back at
her, ‘Oh, just look at that smile,’ she breathed, walking across the room with
her arms outstretched to take him from Phantasm’s hands and swing him up into
the air, making him gurgle with laughter.

‘And the
tigress was tamed.’  Phantasm murmured, watching Mistral cradle her son
and show him her new ring, holding it up to the light so that he could laugh at
the coloured lights that sprang from the clear stones.

They walked
together to The Cloak and Dagger, collecting Phantom along the way and arriving
full of talk and laughter to find the tavern already heaving with guests.

‘Exactly how
many people did you two invite today?’  Mistral hissed to Phantom while
her eyes raked the packed room.

‘Well, all of
your brothers, obviously ... then there’s the Divinus, the Magnate, Master
Shacklock, Imperato,  Alyssa, some of their tribe, Chieftain Larch, for
political reasons, Mage Grapple … Eudora, sorry, but she insisted, Clovis, well,
all the village actually ... um, yes, I think that’s about it.’

‘About
it?’  Mistral echoed faintly.  ‘It’s like a damned battlefield in
here!  Just get me a drink and make it a large one!’

‘You know you
must still go easy on the ale while you’re feeding him Mistral, we spoke about
this the other day!’  Cain said, appearing beside her with a reproving
look on his face.

Mistral didn’t
want to be reminded of that conversation, ever, ‘Of course I will brother,’ she
replied quickly.  ‘I mean it’s only for the next three weeks isn’t
it?  You told me he should be more than ready for solid food by then; he’s
already got four teeth.’

‘Yes, he should be, he’s developing at an incredible rate.’  Cain
said, looking over at the baby held in Fabian’s arms.  ‘Arcane babies tend
to grow fast, but he’s outstripping them all!  I’ve seen a change in him
every single day.’

‘Do you really think?’  Mistral was unconvinced; to her he looked
the same.  ‘Phantasm wants me to start measuring him – oh!’  she suddenly
gasped and turned to look at Cain with shining eyes.  ‘Did I tell you he
smiled at me this morning?’

‘I take it you mean your son and not Phantasm?’  Cain grinned.

‘Of course I do.’  Mistral said, watching her son being shown
around the tavern by his proud father.  ‘When does Phantasm ever smile at
me?’

‘Not often, but I think he’s right, maybe we should start measuring
him.’  Cain mused, following her gaze to study the baby that was one week
old and sitting up unaided on Brutus’ knee.

‘Oh, don’t you start brother!  Why not just label him an
experiment and put him in a glass case?’  Mistral snapped.

‘Don’t be stupid Mistral!  I’m just looking at this from a
professional perspective –’

‘I’d rather you didn’t look at it from any damned perspective!’

Phantom returned and broke up their bickering by presenting her with a
full tankard of ale.

‘Ah, at last, a grown-up sized drink.’  Mistral sighed and raised
it to her lips.

‘He’s definitely grown since I last saw him.’  Phantom said,
watching Samson take his godson from Brutus and hold him aloft, pulling faces
to make him laugh.

‘Not you as well!’  Mistral frowned irritably.  ‘I really
don’t know how you can see such a difference!  You only came out to see
him on Wednesday!’