The Seer (75 page)

Mistral glared
at him, too incensed by his outrageous accusations to know which to refute
first, ‘I did
not
fall asleep during Grendel’s
wedding!’   

‘You might as
well have done!’  Phantom snapped back.  ‘You spent most of it
staring at the sky, obsessing over Master Nox’s thoughts again!’

‘And a damned
good job I did too, or we’d all be murdered in our beds!’ 

‘Don’t be so
dramatic Mistral!  It wasn’t a premonition!  All you Saw were Master
Nox’s vengeful imaginings!  And now it looks like we’re all off on some
mad crusade because of it, thank you very much!’ 

Mistral’s eyes
widened with fury, ‘Mad crusade?’ 

‘Yes! 
That’s exactly what it is!  But you’re not going!  You’re staying
put!’

She
immediately ran back down the stairs to stand before him, thrusting her face
aggressively into his, ‘Oh am I really!  Well, tell me this
brother. 
If I wasn’t pregnant would you even care if I remembered to take my swords
with me on this so called “mad crusade”?’ 

‘That’s
ridiculous!’  

‘Is it? 
I don’t think so!  In fact, I don’t know how you’ve got the gall to call
me obsessed!  What about you and your damned godson then?’

‘Don’t you
dare called him damned!’ 

‘I’ll talk
about him how the hell I want!  Because he’s mine, not yours!’

‘I think
you’ll find I have some say in the matter too.’  Mistral and Phantasm
continued to stare furiously at one another while Fabian entered the house with
Leo.  Closing the door softly behind Leo Fabian turned to look at Mistral
and Phantasm.  ‘Would you care to explain to me why you two are screaming
at one another?’  he asked in the same quiet tone. 

‘Mistral is
under the misguided apprehension that she will be accompanying us to the
Northern Range.’  Phantasm spat, holding Mistral’s seething look with his
own. 

‘I see.’
 Fabian responded calmly.  ‘And you think differently?’

‘Of course I
do!’  Phantasm cried.  ‘She should stay in the Valley!’

‘That suits me
fine!’  Mistral exploded.  ‘I’ll just stay here and wait for the
vampires to arrive then!  At least then I’ll have the “good fight” you
think I’m so interested in!  And you!’  She wheeled around to point
at Fabian.  ‘You’re deluded if you think you’ll even find the vampire
tribe without me!  You need a Seer to know where they are and what plans
they’re making!  But, oh no!  All you ever think about is
this!’  She waved a hand furiously at her belly.  ‘Well understand
this!  He goes where I go!  If I stay in the Valley, then so does
he!’

‘You are not
staying in the Valley Mistral.’  Fabian replied evenly and walked over to
the kitchen table to pick up his saddlebag.  ‘And if you are packing,
would you pack my bag for me too please?  I have the small matter of a
route to plan.’

Throwing
Phantasm a scathing look Mistral deliberately barged him with her elbow as she
stalked past to retrieve Fabian’s saddlebag then stomped up the stairs without
saying another word.

Phantasm
stared at Fabian in utter disbelief while Leo walked over to the kitchen table
to study the map of the Northern Range Fabian was opening out.

‘If you have
something to say to me Phantasm then please say it, time is slightly short.’
 Fabian murmured without taking his eyes off the map.

‘I simply
cannot believe that you are allowing her to go!’

‘I am not.’

Phantasm threw
his hands out in exasperation, ‘Then what is she packing for?’’

‘Mistral is
packing because she is going to stay with the centaurs.’  Fabian replied
while he continued to scrutinize the map, finally pressing a finger down onto
the region the vampire tribe occupied.  ‘There,’ he murmured softly. 
‘Four days hard ride –’

‘You realise
she’ll know what you’re planning, don’t you?’  Phantasm continued. 

‘No, she
doesn’t.’  Fabian turned to fix Phantasm with a cold look.  ‘Because
she is so infuriated with you that she cannot think of anything else!  And
for that, I am not sure whether to be grateful, or displeased that you have
upset my wife so much!’

Phantasm
stared speechlessly at Fabian, torn between his earlier anger and a grudging
respect for the way he so easily managed Mistral’s fiery temperament.

‘Ah,
good.  The rest of the party have arrived.  Now perhaps we can plan a
way to avert the bloodbath Malachi is imagining.’   Fabian turned to
watch Phantom stepping through the door followed by Gleacher, Samson, Cain,
Brutus, Xerxes and finally a bewildered looking Grendel. 

‘A situation
has arisen that directly threatens the lives of every occupant in the Valley
–’ 

At Leo’s words
the warriors moved swiftly to gather around the table and look down at the map
spread out across the table.

‘Mistral has
Seen Malachi’s desires.’  Leo continued in a curt voice.  ‘He seeks
to avenge himself on the Valley by unleashing the vampire tribe to feed amongst
us.’

Xerxes growled
under his breath but the others remained silent.

‘When do we
leave?’  Gleacher asked quietly.

‘Now.’

‘There’s no
time to lose.’  Mistral announced breathlessly, slamming two bulging
saddlebags down onto the table.  ‘Oh, there’s something I forgot to
mention … Malachi has the thirst too.’

Xerxes pulled
a face, ‘I always knew he was a bloodsucking son of a –’

‘Wait a
minute!’  Cain said sharply to Mistral.  ‘You’re coming?’

‘Yes, got a
problem with that Cain?’  Mistral demanded belligerently.  ‘Or in
your professional opinion should I just sit around and quietly wait for a
bloodthirsty tribe of vampires to descend on the Valley?’

Cain spun
around to give Fabian an exacerbated look, ‘You agreed to this, despite all we
spoke about?’

‘Please do not
interfere Cain.’  Fabian said sharply.  ‘I am well aware of Mistral’s
condition and have taken that into consideration.’

‘We will cut
through The Velvet Forests, it’ll be hard riding, but save time on our journey
and bring us out onto the High Moors here –’ Leo traced a finger across the
map.  ‘We can’t afford more than four hours rest each night if we’re to
halt the tribe before they leave the perimeters of the Northern Range. 
Gleacher?’ 

Gleacher
nodded and waited silently for Leo’s instructions. 

‘I will need a
party to be informed of the tribe’s intentions and be ready to defend the
Valley if our attempt to head them off is unsuccessful.  I don’t want our
mission to be common knowledge, it would spread unnecessary panic.’

Gleacher’s
face clouded briefly. 

‘Yes?’ 
Leo asked, reading instantly the concern in his most trusted ally.

‘It is perhaps
too soon after the elections for you to leave the Valley.’

Leo smiled
grimly, ‘You mean Malachi’s supporters would relish the opportunity to loudly
proclaim my failure to defend the Valley from a tribe of vampires as an example
of what a poor Divinus I am?  You are right Gleacher; however, I have no
choice.’

‘But you do
have a choice Leo.’  Fabian cut in quietly.  ‘And Gleacher is
correct; the Valley needs their Divinus to lead them.  You must stay and
assemble a party of loyal warriors in preparation should we fail.  The
Gemini will inform you of our efforts to subdue the tribe.  Should you
receive no news, then you know to prepare for an attack.’

A heavy
silence fell at Fabian’s words.

‘But why can’t
we just take an army?’  Xerxes demanded.  ‘It’s not a Contract is
it?  It’s our survival!’

‘You are
correct Xerxes.’  Fabian replied.  ‘However Leo was elected as
Divinus on the strength of only one deciding vote.  There is not enough
support in the Valley for this cause, especially when Malachi is at the root of
the vampire tribe’s uprising.’

‘Surely no-one
can want what they propose to do!’  Brutus exclaimed.

‘You forget
that we have the advantage of having Seen the truth through Mistral.  Who
knows what web of lies Malachi would spin in order to convince his followers to
allow the vampire tribe access to the Valley.  Do not overlook the fact
that half the warriors of the Ri were willing to elect him as their Divinus
based purely on the fact that he was not a pure-blooded Mage.’

‘You’re saying
that half the warriors in the Valley would accept some weak cover story and
welcome a marauding tribe of vampires into the Valley rather than believe
Master Sphinx, just because he has sorcering parentage?’ 

‘Prejudice is
a powerful tool.’  Fabian murmured and returned his attention to the map.

Brutus said
nothing but looked unconvinced, his doubt reflected on the faces of both Xerxes
and Cain.

‘Oh come on brothers!’ 
Mistral burst impatiently.  ‘How many times have you called them “pompous
overbearing Mages”?  You know that if Malachi lied convincingly enough
they’d willingly accept whatever he said!  And he’s a damned good liar,’
she added with a scowl.  ‘He’s fooled me for the last four days!’

‘Fair point
sister.’  Brutus admitted, completely unashamed at having their private
insults repeated in front of two Mages, he turned to peer intently at the
map.  ‘So what’s the plan?’

They spent the
next hour outlining a route.  Samson named three other warriors he felt
were both loyal and had skills that would be beneficial to their mission. 
By the middle of the afternoon a plan had been decided upon and they rose from
the table, agreeing to meet at the stables within one hour to depart for the
Northern Range.

‘Phantom,
Phantasm?’  Fabian looked meaningfully at the twins.  ‘I would be
grateful if you could inform the relevant parties.’

The twins
nodded and left without speaking to Mistral, who didn’t even look up from the
cold meat and bread she was preparing for the journey. 

‘I’m not sure
my armour will fit any more.’  Mistral confessed as she opened her
saddlebag to throw in a parcel of food.

‘You will be
well protected.’  Fabian murmured, walking up behind her to wrap both arms
around her.

Mistral smiled
and laid her head back against him with a sigh, ‘I can’t believe you’re letting
me go!  I thought you’d come over all chivalrous and make me stay in the
Valley!’ 

‘Chivalrous?’ 
Fabian laughed.  ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever been described as that before!’

‘Oh you are.’
 Mistral turned in his arms to gaze expressively up at him.  ‘But I
promise to be careful.  I won’t risk our son in battle, I’ll shoot
crossbow from a distance –’

‘Yes, you
will.  A very great distance.’  Fabian murmured and bent his head to
kiss her.

‘Liliana
didn’t look too pleased.’  Mistral commented, reining Cirrus in beside
Brutus’ horse to watch Prospero bounding ahead through the long grass.

‘No.  I
think that wedding nights in the Valley are doomed to be replaced by life-threatening
situations,’ he agreed with a laugh.

They were
riding across the meadows towards the forests, the late afternoon sun hung low
over the Western Range but sunset was still several hours away; they would be
able to make a good start on their journey before night fell.

‘Are those
really rose petals in Xerxes’ hair?’  Mistral asked, narrowing her eyes to
study the red fragments trapped in Xerxes’ long hair.

‘Yes. 
Makes a change from straw doesn’t it?’  Brutus sighed.  ‘I literally
had to prise him off one of Liliana’s sisters!’

Mistral
laughed, ‘Did Marietta see him?’

Brutus nodded,
‘You know Xerxes; subtlety is hardly one of his qualities.  It was
actually Marietta that told me where to find him!  Whatever you Saw in
Malachi’s mind is nothing compared to what she’s planning to do to him when we
get back!’

‘Well I hope
she doesn’t kill him because then you’ll be the only one still talking to me.’
 Mistral cast sour looks at Cain and the twins, riding ahead of them.

‘Fallen out?’

Mistral pulled
a face, ‘Nothing worth wasting breath on.’

‘What’s
Phantom done this time?’

‘Oh he’s done
nothing!  It’s his stupid brother!  Expecting me to happily twiddle
my thumbs in the Valley while you all go off to divert a disaster that I Saw in
the first place!’

Brutus
sighed.  ‘He’s just a bit over-protective of you Mistral.  Try not to
be so hard on him –’

‘Oh no! 
He doesn’t care about me!’  Mistral snapped.  ‘It’s all about his
damned godson!  Well he can go to hell!  If he wants a son so badly
he should go and get himself a wife and have one of his own!’

Brutus raised
his eyebrows but wisely said nothing.  It was normal for Mistral to bicker
and squabble with Phantom, but for her to speak with such bitterness about his
brother was unheard of. 

The small
group entered the cool darkness of forests, riding single file along a narrow
path with Fabian at the head followed by Samson and three warriors Mistral had
with him in The Cloak on a number of occasions.  Behind them rode the
twins, followed by Grendel, Xerxes, Cain and Brutus.  Mistral had made
sure she was right at the back to avoid the dark looks she was getting from
Cain and the twins.  After much debate Gleacher had been convinced by
Fabian to remain in the Valley.  The election had caused a rift in the Valley
that was still too fresh for the Ri’s complete loyalty to be relied upon. 
Should it come to another stand-off between Malachi and Leo, Gleacher would
provide a steadfast and trusted figure for the warriors to
follow.    Neither of the twins or Cain has spoken to Mistral
since leaving the Valley, but that suited her perfectly.  She was still so
angry with Phantasm that she’d forced the constant patter of his thoughts from
her mind, refusing to even hear what he was thinking, which, she mused blackly,
would only be something uncomplimentary about her.  Gazing moodily up at
the branches overhead, Mistral jumped when Fabian’s quiet voice spoke next to
her.

‘Could you
please read Malachi while we are riding Mistral?  I will lead Cirrus for
you.’

Mistral frowned
at him, ‘What, now?  Why can’t it wait till we’re resting?’

‘It is
important.’  Fabian insisted quietly, leaning over to take Cirrus’ reins
from her hands.

Mistral sighed
and released her grip on the reins.  Holding onto the pommel of her saddle
for balance she closed her eyes and called up the image of Malachi Nox’s
features.  The connection between their minds was instant; within a
heartbeat she was sucked back into the same sparkling black void of his
subconscious.  Turning in a slow circle through the liquid blackness,
Mistral looked around uneasily, waiting for the deluge of his unspeakable
desires to assault her eyes again.

Lights
flickered in the disorientating darkness; a snarling face flashed before her
eyes then vanished again.  Voices echoed in her ears, guttural and
rasping.  More like animal noises than spoken words, they grated painfully
against her eardrums.  

‘You have
failed!’

‘A
temporary set-back.  We revert to our original plan –’ 

Mistral
recognised Malachi’s voice, clipped and icy.  She stared through the
darkness, trying to see the speakers, but she was trapped deep within Malachi’s
subconscious and could only hear their voices.  The guttural voice laughed
chillingly, a sound like nails on slate that set her teeth on edge. 

‘This is
good!  We are hungry for some unrest!’

‘Remove
that puffed up Mage from his temporary office as Divinus before the Council can
confirm his position, and I shall be elected to power with no further
obstacles!’

‘I relish
the opportunity to remove all obstacles,’
the dark voice growled.

‘The Gemini
can go.  We do not need their skills.’ 
Malachi continued in a
cold voice. 
‘Fear offers a more lasting and effective control that
their pathetic gift could ever offer.’

‘What of
the Seer?’

Mistral saw a startling
flash of her own face appear in the darkness.

‘She would
be beneficial to our cause but is a difficult creature to master, too
self-destructive.  The key to her is that Mage she is wed to.  We
need them both.’

‘That may
be difficult.  Once the tribe are unleashed the bloodlust is too powerful
to control.  You must secure the two you wish to remain alive before that
happens.’

‘It shall
be.  We leave once you are prepared.’ 

‘We must
feed first.  I can see the hunger in your eyes my son!  You have
denied it for too long!  It is time to embrace your true nature, be free
of the constraints you have struggled so hard against!  Our time is
coming!’

The blackness
lightened suddenly and Mistral saw images looming out the depths, faceless
figures, their heads turned away to expose long white necks, pulsing with life
–

‘Enough!’ 
Mistral gasped her eyes flying wide open as she ripped her mind out of
Malachi’s fantasy.

Fabian
wordlessly passed her a skin of water, waiting until she had taken a drink and
recovered fully from her trance before speaking

‘Tell me,’ he
said softly.

‘Malachi is
with the tribe.  I think he was talking to Bellicose, because he called
him “son”’.

‘Couldn’t you
see him?’  Fabian asked with a frown.

Mistral shook her
head, ‘The Sight, I think it’s connected itself to Malachi’s subconscious … I
can’t really explain it, but it’s like I can’t go anywhere but there –’

‘Malachi Nox
deceived your gift with his consciousness, but now the Sight has found a
connection that is undeniable it will always seek the same path.’

Mistral looked
up in surprise to see Imperato next to her.  She glanced behind her to see
that Dravite and Faras were with him too.  ‘Oh!  What are you doing
here?’

‘We live in
the forests daughter, or had you forgotten?’

Thrown by the
centaurs sudden arrival, Mistral gave Fabian a confused look but his face
registered no reaction to the centaurs’ presence.  His dark eyes were
fixed intently on hers, waiting for her to continue.

‘Er,
right.  Well, Bellicose is going to clear the Valley of all obstacles, by
that I suppose he means he’s going to have the tribe kill any warriors who come
out in support for Leo when they attack.  Then Malachi will be elected as
the new Divinus without any resistance.  Oh, and they want you and me
alive for some reason that I didn’t get to hear, but not the twins.’
 Mistral shrugged.  ‘Can’t say I blame him there –’

‘Anything
else?’  Fabian interrupted her sharply.

Mistral shot
him an angry look.  What was the urgency?  They had at least four
days for her to relay the plans of the tribe.  ‘Yes there was!  And
since you asked so nicely I shall tell you!’  she snapped.  ‘They’re
going to set off once they’ve fed and Malachi’s going with them!  That’s
everything unless you’d like me to describe how excited Malachi was at the
prospect of getting something to eat!’ 

‘Not
necessary, thank you.’  Fabian said shortly, and then abruptly reached
over to hand her reins to Imperato. 

‘Forgive
me.’ 

The kiss that
brushed her lips took her by surprise but before she could respond he was gone,
riding away without a backward glance and leaving her with the three
centaurs.  The shocking realisation that Fabian had conspired against her
rendered Mistral momentarily speechless.  By the time she had recovered
her voice and her ability to swear, all that could be seen of Fabian was a
flash of gold weaving between the trees, cantering after the rest of the
group. 

The three
centaurs waited silently until her outburst of angry curses and dark promises
of what she was going to do when he dared to return were completely finished
and she was left fuming in silence, staring at the empty trail, abandoned like
her.

‘Come, my
daughter.’

Imperato did
not comment on her language despite remonstrating her during the Tournament for
swearing.  His proud face was typically composed as he led Cirrus away
through the trees.  Mistral’s mind was working furiously, alternating
between mad plans to rip her reins from Imperato’s grasp and gallop away or
simply to have a complete tantrum and get off her horse and refuse to go
another step until Imperato let Cirrus go.

With a burst
of frustration she realised that neither would work.  Thanks to Fabian
very cleverly asking her to read Malachi whilst they were travelling, she had no
idea which direction they’d taken through the forests.  She listened to
his thoughts for a few moments before giving up; he was carefully not thinking
about their route.  Heaving a defeated sigh Mistral realised that she had
absolutely no idea where she was.  The centaurs shunned paths and trails
of any sort, preferring to travel through the thick undergrowth to appear like
ghosts at their chosen destination.  She looked up at the patches of sky
appearing through the branches to gauge her whereabouts from the position of
the sun, but it had now set and all she could see was the soft inky blue of a
twilight sky.  Her notions of escape dwindled completely when Faras and
Dravite caught her calculating looks and moved closer.  Mistral glanced at
the unspeaking statue-like centaurs flanking her.  Their rigid expression
were definitely uninviting of any polite questions regarding their current
whereabouts in relation to the lying husband of hers who was going to be deaf
by the time she had finished screaming at him.  Mistral spent a few
satisfying minutes planning her imaginary outburst at Fabian then glanced at
the stern faced centaurs around her and rolled her eyes.  A stay of
undetermined length with the fun-loving centaur tribe ... how could Fabian do
that to her?  She was definitely going to kill him when he came
back.  If he came back … 

She fell to
fretting over the battle.  The vampire tribe inhabited a remote region of
the Northern Range.  Mage Grapple had purposefully chosen an isolated
location to keep them away from the temptations of their former lives, but in
doing so had made it difficult for the Council to keep a precise tally of the
tribe’s numbers.  Bellicose was required to present an annual census to
the Council and according to Phantom, he had produced the same figure of
eighteen for the last three years running.  Either there had been an exact
matching number of births and deaths in the tribe or Bellicose was lying. 
Mistral hadn’t enquired how many of that eighteen were male or female; having
seen the way they fed she didn’t even want to think about their breeding
habits.

Eighteen. 
She narrowed her eyes and worked out the odds.  Assuming roughly half the
tribe were males of a fighting age, and also assuming that eighteen was a
genuine number, that would leave eleven warriors facing nine vampires. 
She comforted herself with the maths.  They were good odds, especially
when five of the Ri’s party were well-seasoned warriors.  Lost in her
musings it wasn’t until Mistral heard Imperato greet the centaur on lookout
duty that she realised they’d reached the tribal settlement.  Gazing
around at her prison for the foreseeable future with a sinking feeling, Mistral
was marginally gladdened to see Alyssa walking towards her with a platter of
meats in her hands.  Her stomach gave a loud rumble at the sight of the
food.

‘Eat, we will
tend to your horse.’

It was the
first time Imperato had spoken to her since her foul tirade at Fabian. 
She glanced warily at him.  His face was impassive, but his voice had held
a definite note of displeasure.  Lowering herself from Cirrus’ saddle with
a sigh Mistral realised that she had offended her father and was completely at
a loss of how to rectify it.