The Seer (55 page)

Fabian pushed
Spirit forward so that he was between her and Etienne and Mistral heard the
unmistakable sound of bowstrings tightening in response to his action. 
She looked quickly at the silhouetted archers on the rooftops.  Some were
aiming at Gleacher and the crew now gathered on the deck of the Ri’s ship, but
most were aiming at Fabian.  She realised that none were aiming at
her.  The threat was plain.  Fabian and the crew were to die for any
wrong move made, but she was to remain alive.

‘Fabian! 
The archers are trained on you, not me!’  her urgent whisper sounded too
loud in the tense silence.  She tried to control her voice to finish her
request.  ‘Please … stay behind me!’  She dismounted stiffly and
began to walk slowly towards Etienne, leading Cirrus by her side.  She
could hear the ringing steps of Spirit’s metal-shod hooves following behind and
the quieter sounds of Fabian’s footsteps.  The slowness of her steps
belied the speed with which her mind was working.  Focussing on the statue-like
figure before her, Mistral called forth the vision of his aura.  The
resulting explosion of silver, gold and turquoise made her teeth clench with
fury.  Etienne was pleased with the results of his plan.  She was
forced to admit that he had every right to be; he’d planned well.  They
were outnumbered and outmanoeuvred and their only means of escape lay across an
open expanse of quayside covered by enemy archers.  Her mind rapidly
processed their options: fight?  It would be suicide.  Pull the smug-faced
Etienne from his horse then ram a knife against his throat and use him as a
bargaining tool to elicit their escape?  It was a pleasant fantasy, but in
reality Mistral knew the Rochforte soldiers would just shoot Fabian and not
particularly care if they accidently shot her as well.  

Mistral could
hear Fabian’s footsteps matching her pace while he walked behind her.  She
glanced up at the archers, watching them adjust their aim to keep him in their
sights.  Mistral knew with sickening certainty that Etienne wanted Fabian
dead and for the blame to lie at her feet.  He would contrive for Fabian
to die trying to defend her in some way then use the crushing despair she would
feel to break her spirit and bend her will to their ends.  It was too
similar to the plan they had so nearly succeeded with before.  She
narrowed her eyes in anger at the irrefutable evidence blooming in his aura; a
dirty yellow stain of disappointment that marred the swirls of silver and
gold.  What else did he have to be disappointed about?  His plan had
worked beautifully so far; she and Fabian had obligingly delivered themselves
right into this trap.  He could only be disappointed that Fabian had acted
with unusual restraint and denied the archers their shot.  But then
Etienne didn’t know that she was with child and how that one simple fact had
changed Fabian’s entire perspective on the value of his own life.  Mistral
knew that if pushed, that would all change in a heartbeat.  The innate
need to protect her was so deeply ingrained in him that with very little
provocation he would react instinctively, and throw his life away in place of
hers.  She’d seen too many lives thrown away already to stand for Fabian
to do the same. 

Saul.

For some
unknown reason the face of her dead brother suddenly filled her mind.  The
familiar warm brown eyes that she never dared admit to herself how much she
missed were gazing at her accusingly, telling her that she knew what she should
do.  An idea immediately began to take shape in Mistral’s mind.  She
lifted her chin with sudden determination and strode more purposefully towards
Etienne.  He watched their approach silently, his expression contemptuous,
but his aura showed caution.  Mistral continued to walk across the quay
until she was opposite the Ri’s ship, there she halted and addressed the head
of the Rochforte tribe in a clear voice.

‘Etienne.’

‘Seer.’

‘You have come
for me?’ 

He nodded once
and raised an eyebrow as she slowly drew her dagger from the back of her
belt.  Holding his gaze steadily she raised it and placed the point
against her throat, pressing into the vein until the skin pulsed beneath the
point of the blade. 

Mistral raised
her voice to carry across the quayside to the archers, ‘Hurt Fabian and I will
take my own life.’

A flicker of
amusement crossed Etienne’s cold features, ‘She assured me you would value the
worthless life of De Winter more than your own.’

‘Then I’m glad
she taught you something more than just our language.’  Mistral responded
acidly.

A long silence
fell while Etienne stared at her, his eyes narrowed in thought.  Mistral
stared back.  She could feel the tension radiating from Fabian, his cold
fury pummelled at her mind, distracting her focus.  With a conscious
effort she shut him out, concentrating solely on Etienne and the aura colours
broiling above his head. 

‘We appear to
have reached an impasse,’ he smiled humourlessly and waved a hand casually at
his archers.  ‘You are surrounded.  It is impossible for you to
escape.’

‘There is no
impasse.  I See what you want.’  Mistral replied coldly.  ‘But
it will be on my terms.’

Fabian stirred
in response to her words but he didn’t speak.  His startled thoughts broke
through into Mistral’s mind and she forced them out again.  She couldn’t
allow anything to detract her from her purpose now. 

Etienne
glanced at Fabian briefly then returned his gaze to Mistral.  Tilting his
head to one side he regarded her for a long moment before speaking. 
‘State your terms.’

‘The unicorns
and horses are to be loaded and the ship is to have left the quayside with all
of the Ri on board; alive and unharmed.’

He gave her a
long assessing look before nodding curtly.  Turning in the saddle he
shouted a series of rapid orders to his archers in French.  Mistral felt Fabian’s
tension lessen fractionally with each bow that was slowly lowered.  At
once the quayside was alive with activity.  The ramp into the hold of the
Ri’s ship lowered with a crashing bang and the crew swarmed out, moving swiftly
across the quay to retrieve the herd of unicorns.  Mistral listened to the
muted thuds of their unshod hooves on the wooden ramp fade away as they were
led into the depths of the hold, too exhausted to resist. 

Mistral fought
back the impulsive need to look at Fabian.  He was so close that she could
feel the heat of his body and hear every tense, shallow breath he drew. 
For a split-second she allowed his thoughts to fill her mind.  They were
cold and emotionless; the mind of an assassin.  For an instant she saw
through his eyes, calculating the angle at which he would have to throw a
dagger to strike Etienne with a mortal blow, how to protect her from the
ensuing hail of arrows that would surely follow, would the weight of his dead
body crush her and hurt the child within her?

Mistral
blanched and quickly withdrew from his mind.  There was no way she could
execute the final part of her plan without Fabian throwing his life away. 
He’d displayed formidable restraint so far, but what she was about to do would
undoubtedly push him into enacting the horrifying scene she’d just Seen in his
mind.

‘The unicorns
are loaded.’

Gleacher’s
voice cut through her turbulent thoughts.  Meeting Etienne’s hard stare
again Mistral nodded and slowly lowered her dagger.  Sliding it back into
her belt she turned to face Gleacher and walked a few steps towards him,
holding out Cirrus’ reins for him to take.   

‘The
Rochfortes are not having my horse too,’ she murmured so quietly that only
Gleacher heard her.  His grey eyes bored into hers, reading the meaning of
her words while he reached out to take the reins.  For a brief moment they
were close enough to conceal a whispered conversation.  ‘Restrain Fabian,’
she breathed.

Gleacher froze
but quickly recovered, bending his head to hide his words while he looped
Cirrus’ reins through his hands, ‘Do nothing hasty!  We are outnumbered!’

‘I know. 
I’ve got a plan.’

Gleacher made
no response and turned away.  Mistral paused to watch him leading Cirrus
into the hold, giving him time to speak to his crew before she turned back to
face Etienne.  ‘I am ready to go with you now.’

‘No!’ 

Fabian’s
shocked cry was instantly followed by the sound of struggling.  Mistral
didn’t look at him.  She couldn’t.  She knew Gleacher had passed on
her instructions.  The crew were holding him back.  She took a step
towards the Etienne, ignoring the grunts of pain coming from the crew as Fabian
fought to be free.

‘MISTRAL!’ 

The agony in
his voice made her feet stall.  She half-turned towards him but kept her
eyes on the ground, not daring to meet his gaze.  If she took one look at
him she would be lost.

‘No! 
Stop!  Mistral! 
Don’t go near him!
’   

Mistral
flinched at the raw despair in his voice but kept her eyes fixed firmly on the
cobbles at her feet, ‘I am going with Etienne,’ she said quietly.  ‘I have
to.  It’s the only way that we all walk away from this alive.’

‘NO!’ 
Fabian’s anguished shout reverberated across the empty quayside. 

His pain was
too much for Mistral to bear.  Drawing in a deep breath she dragged her
eyes up meet his tortured gaze.  ‘I have to go Fabian, or they will kill
you,’ she attempted a smile, her lips trembling with the effort.  ‘And how
can you come and rescue me if you’re dead?’  Her eyes held his for a
single moment longer then she turned and began to walk numbly towards Etienne.

The sounds of
Fabian shouting her name while the crew dragged him into the hold abruptly
ended in the echoing bang of the ramp being drawn up.  Mistral closed her
eyes at the finality of the sound.  She was completely alone now. 
Shouted instructions coming from the ship told her that the crew were making
ready to cast off.  She fought back a sob of despair and opened her eyes
to gaze at Etienne, waiting motionlessly for her in the centre of the
quay.  She began to walk forwards again when Etienne called out to her in
icy tones.

‘Not another
step until you give up your dagger, please Seer.  You may have little
regard for your life but I value mine quite highly.’

Mistral halted
and slowly drew her dagger and holding it aloft by its point for Etienne to
collect.

He smiled
scornfully, ‘I don’t think so.  Forgive me if I do not trust you to pass
me a knife, but I have seen you skin a deer and have no wish to receive the
same treatment.’

‘I could throw
it to you, if you’d prefer.’  Mistral offered.

The humour
abruptly left his face, ‘Throw it in the water!’  he snapped.

Mistral’s face
darkened with anger.  She abruptly whirled around and flung her favourite
dagger out across the dark water.  It struck the side of the Ri’s ship
with a dull thud and embedded into the wood.  The hilt could clearly be
seen glinting in the moonlight just above the waterline. 

Turning back
to meet Etienne’s amused look; Mistral shrugged angrily, ‘I’m sure Golden also
told you I had a bad temper.’

‘She told me
many strange things about you Seer; in particular your love of horses – a
seemingly inane fact that turned out to be a most worthwhile piece of
information.’

Mistral held
his cold gaze steadily, ‘You could say horses are in my blood.’  

A puzzled look
crossed Etienne’s face but he didn’t question her strange response and turned
to look over his shoulder, raising a hand in a silent order.  The sound of
footsteps was quickly followed by the sight of two Rochforte soldiers appearing
from the gloom at the edge of the quay, running towards her.  Mistral
remained calm while they seized her arms and began to move her forcibly across
the quay.  It didn’t cross her mind to resist, she had agreed to go. 
Turning her head to look at the Ri ship one last time she saw that it was still
tied to the quayside.

‘
Wait!
 
I can’t go yet!’  she quickly cried out, her voice cracking with the panic
she was trying so hard to conceal.

‘Oh
really?  And why is that?’  Etienne raised an eyebrow and waited for
her to explain. 

Mistral took
in a breath and forced her voice to sound calm.  She had to appear in
control.  ‘The deal isn’t complete yet Etienne.  Not until the ship
has left.’ 

Even as she
spoke, the clanking sound of the anchor chain being drawn echoed out across the
water.  Etienne glanced over at the ship, the last ropes were being pulled
in; the ship had already cast off.

He shrugged
dismissively, ‘Even I have time for you to enjoy watching your worthless De
Winter sail away from you.’  He uttered a few harsh words in French then
laughed callously.  The two guards immediately stopped trying to drag her
across the quayside and let her turn to face the ship.  They maintained
their crushing grip, but she barely noticed the pain of their fingers digging
into her arms; her eyes were raking the shadowed decks for a glimpse of
Fabian.  To see him again, even for the briefest of moments, was all she
needed to convince her that she was making a terrible mistake.

‘Try not to
hate him for his cowardice.’  Etienne called out gloatingly.  ‘He
cannot help the weak blood of the Nobles that pollutes his veins.’ 

Mistral
ignored him and continued to stare at the ship.  The oars rose and fell in
the black water, pulling the ship away with steady strokes.  Only one crew
member could be seen working on deck and of Fabian there was no sign. 
Mistral realised with a wrench that Gleacher must have locked him in one of the
cabins to prevent him from coming back for her. 

A sudden
breeze lifted her hair.  She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply,
savouring the salty sharpness.  She drew in another breath and could just
pick out the fainter smells from the market stalls behind her.  One of
Rochfortes holding her arms gave her a strange look.