Gradually the unicorn’s furious pace began to slow, subsiding first to a stiff-legged canter, then a trot and finally a walk, his breath coming in deep sobbing breaths. Reaching forward with one hand Fabian deftly looped a section of rope around the unicorn’s muzzle then sat up and leaned back, pulling him to a halt. The stallion struggled weakly against the pressure but was too exhausted to put up much of a fight and staggered to a standstill, dropping his head and blowing hard while Fabian slid from his back and quickly slipped a halter over his unresisting head. Leading the spent unicorn back towards Mistral, Fabian met her eyes and smiled at the conflicting emotions he saw there; predominately relief but also an undeniable tinge of envy.
‘I admit it, I’m jealous,’ she confessed, catching his look. ‘I told Phantasm that I wanted to ride one but he forbade me, spouting some drivel about it being dangerous in my condition, whatever that’s supposed to mean –’
The exhilarated light in Fabian’s eyes instantly died to be replaced by one of anxiety, ‘And he was right. You shouldn’t have been pulling on the ropes either, how do you feel?’
‘Fine,’ she shrugged then looked thoughtful. ‘Hungry –’
Fabian gave a short laugh then turned to pat the sweating neck of the stallion, leaving an odd pale imprint against the dun-coloured coat. Sharing a curious look, Mistral stepped forward and brushed a hand gently against the stallion’s neck. Parting the sweat-matted coat she gasped quietly to see a bright flash appear beneath her fingers. The unicorn stallion was in fact white, as legend promised; only a heavy accumulation of dirt and mud had disguised his true colour.
‘They’re filthy!’ she exclaimed angrily.
Examining the stallion more closely Mistral could see there were twigs and burrs caught in his tangled mane. His hooves, although probably always unshod, were rough and had obviously not been trimmed or cared for in any way for some time.
‘Is this how Pierre looks after his beloved herd? By letting them get into this state?’
Fabian frowned, ‘Perhaps their upkeep has become too much for him.’
‘You’re too generous Fabian!’ Mistral muttered angrily while she crouched to run a hand down the stallion’s legs. ‘There’s no excuse for neglect!’
‘The neglect has ended Mistral. They are being rehomed on the Isle. Try not to be so angry with Pierre, he is old and proud. It cannot have been easy for him to accept that he was no longer able to care for his herd.’
‘I wish I could speak French.’ Mistral stood up, angrily wiping her dirty hands against her trousers. ‘I’d give him such a piece of my mind!’
‘Then perhaps it is fortunate then that your education has not gone beyond learning the word for victory.’ Fabian began to lead the weary unicorn stallion towards the rest of the herd.
‘Oh!’ Mistral exclaimed suddenly, making Fabian pause and turn to meet her guilty look. ‘I forgot! I read Pierre on the ride out and caught a few words … temps? Does that mean something to you?’
‘Time,’ said Fabian.
‘Oh, right. And then there was something he kept thinking. A really weird word ... it sounded like chattymont –’
‘Châtiment.’ Fabian corrected quietly.
‘Yes! That’s it!’ Mistral cried, her pleasure at remembering the word instantly fading at the black look on Fabian’s face. ‘What does it mean?’
‘Vengeance.’
‘Vengeance? He definitely wasn’t thinking about dinner then.’
‘I doubt it, unless he’s going to poison us. Damn it! What have I missed?’
The stallion started at Fabian’s outburst and tried to pull away. Fabian controlled him, calming him with soothing words until the unicorn was settled once more. He turned to speak to Mistral, keeping his voice low to avoid upsetting the stallion again. ‘Can you hear my thoughts and read Pierre’s aura at the same time?’
Mistral could hear the urgency in his quietly spoken words and nodded quickly, ‘I can hear you all the time, whether I’m really trying or not. But I can only hear one person at a time, so I’d have to ignore you to hear Pierre’s thoughts.’
Fabian shook his head, ‘Read his aura only. I want you to be able to hear me in case I need to warn you of anything.’
Mistral nodded silently, the sudden strain she saw in his eyes sending a chill through her. His expression abruptly changed to one of heartfelt regret. He reached out to brush his fingers gently down her cheek.
‘I am so sorry Mistral. I fear that I may have stupidly led us into a trap.’
She caught his hand, pressing her lips to his skin in a tender caress, ‘My place is by your side Fabian. I believe in the reasons that brought us here. Trap or no trap, we had to try. Our son’s future is at stake.’
Fabian’s voice became bleak, ‘More so now. We cannot afford to waste any time Mistral, we must hurry!’
He swung himself back onto Spirit and led the stallion beside him, closely followed by Mistral and more hesitantly, the herd. The stallion trotted alongside the object of his affections, occasionally turning his head to nibble at her neck, which she bore with ill-grace. Fabian paused on the crest of the ridge to wait for Mistral. She pulled Cirrus to a halt beside him and they both scanned the wide expanse of pasture land for any sign of Pierre. It didn’t take long for them to spot the distinctive figure of the elderly Mage. He’d ridden to the top of the next rise and was sat completely still astride his sturdy pony, gazing northwards.
‘Unless the bear left paw prints on the horizon I don’t think he’s searching for tracks.’ Mistral whispered.
Fabian didn’t reply but Mistral could hear the tension in his thoughts. Kicking their horses on, they descended the ridge at a light trot and cantered across the rolling grasslands towards Pierre. Hearing the sound of their approach he turned to greet them with an easy grin, speaking to Fabian while he reached out a hand to pat the stallion. The unicorn shied sharply and Mistral heard Fabian’s thought echo her own.
Pierre’s scent is unfamiliar!
Fabian didn’t comment on the stallion’s reaction but immediately engaged Pierre in conversation, leaving Mistral free to concentrate on reading his aura. The warm mid-afternoon sunshine cast a golden glow over Pierre and Fabian’s heads, blending into the shimmering colours of their auras. Mistral rode silently behind them, her blank expression the only indication of what she was doing. Pierre’s aura remained a bright display of golds and silvers. Mistral quickly grew bored of trying to guess the reasons for his apparent joyous mood. She continued to monitor his emotions half-heartedly until a bright flash of scarlet tore through the jewel-box colours ... hatred. Mistral blinked in surprise and the vision was gone, leaving her with just the gentle murmur of Fabian’s thoughts in her mind.
Mistral frowned. Why would Pierre be feeling hatred? It didn’t make sense … the joy could be explained in a hundred ways, the success of rounding up the herd being the most obvious, but hatred? It was no good, she had to try and find out, even if it meant going against Fabian’s instructions. With a small pang of loss, Mistral pushed Fabian’s voice from her mind and focussed on the incomprehensible thoughts of Pierre.
Par la victoire de ce soir sera le nôtre …
Feeling frustrated that her gift could expose his thoughts but not permit her to understand a damned word, Mistral clung onto the only one she recognised.
Victoire!
Pierre was thinking about victory once again. Mistral felt a corresponding burst of unease. His voice faded from her mind as her concentration slipped. Cursing under her breath, she forced her mind to dispel the sudden wave of apprehension and focussed again on the air above the grey hair.
D’or …
Mistral frowned and let his thoughts slip out of her mind while she puzzled over the burst of blinding yellow amusement that flashed through his aura every time he thought that word … d’or … what did it mean?
We are nearly at the farmhouse Mistral, come out of your trance …
Fabian’s thoug
ht cut across her musings, pulling her back to reality. She blinked, adjusting to reality, and found that they were riding down the rough cart-track into the farm. The herd of mares had followed obediently, blindly going wherever their stallion led them and he appeared to be more than content to go wherever Spirit went.
They dismounted in the courtyard outside the stables. In response to Fabian’s unspoken instruction Mistral took their two horses and Pierre’s pony into their stalls then returned to watch Fabian and Pierre leading the herd towards a fenced enclosure. Convincing the herd to enter the confines of the corral took more work than they had anticipated and Pierre was soon sweating profusely under the warmth of the late-afternoon sun. With a muttered oath he ran a hand over his perspiring face and pulled his jerkin off, flinging it to the ground beside the fence not far from where Mistral was standing. An odd tinkling sound drew her attention, looking around for the source Mistral saw that something had fallen from Pierre’s jerkin pocket and was lying in the grass by her boot. Bending down, she picked it up and looked at the object curiously. It was made of soft velvet and had a small silver bell attached to the top. Unfolding it to examine it more closely she noticed two ornate patches embroidered on either side and immediately knew what it was. A falcon’s hood.
Pierre had a falcon? She couldn’t recall seeing one at the farm … but she had seen one recently… somewhere quite unexpected ….
Mistral suddenly gasped out loud as she remembered seeing a falcon disturbing the flock of seagulls at the fishing harbour. She looked down at the falcon’s hood that had fallen from Pierre’s jerkin pocket ... Pierre; the eccentric French Mage who had unexpectedly turned up to greet them at the harbour, who didn’t know his way around his own kitchen and had supposedly dedicated his life to caring for a herd of unicorns that blatantly didn’t recognise him …
‘Fabian!’ Mistral couldn’t hide the note of panic in her voice. With the unerring certainty that Sight gave her she knew that something was terribly wrong.
Fabian dropped the halter of the unicorn he’d been coaxing into the corral and spun to face her. Quickly reading the look on her face he dropped his gaze to see the velvet hood held in her hand.
‘Ah Pierre, my friend.’ Fabian said softly and Mistral was surprised to hear that he was no longer speaking in French. ‘You never did tell me you surname.’
Pierre stared at Fabian for a moment then a grin slowly spread across his craggy features, ‘Rochforte.’
Mistral felt her mouth fall open in horrified realisation of the truth. They had walked right into a trap. Pierre had sent Etienne news of their arrival strapped to the leg of the falcon ... and that had been more than a day ago; plenty of time for him to muster a party and head out straight away.
Fabian’s snarl of anger snapped Mistral’s shocked gaze back to see him lunge at Pierre with his dagger drawn. The air around Pierre immediately shifted and wave of invisible power exploded out, sending Fabian crashing to the ground. Caught by the edge of the spell’s shockwaves Mistral was flung from her feet. She slammed back into the fence with a force that took her breath away and slid to the ground, winded and dazed.
Suddenly strong hands were grasped her around the throat, hauling her choking to her feet. Inhaling the stench of ozone and sweat Mistral knew that Pierre was holding her and immediately began to struggle. At once something cold and sharp pressed against her belly, piercing through her shirt and cutting into the skin.
‘Stay still or I will gut you of that child you are carrying like a fish.’ Pierre growled into her ear.
Mistral instantly froze. Held in Pierre’s strong grip she could only stare helplessly at Fabian, now walking slowly out of the enclosure towards them.
‘What is your plan Pierre?’ Fabian enquired coldly. ‘Keep us here until your nephew arrives?’
‘Ah, finally you remember the Rochforte blood-lines! I thought you would make the connection eventually ... but come no closer!’ Pierre warned sharply as Fabian drew nearer. ‘Or I will hurt her.’
‘Oh I don’t think you will.’ Fabian murmured, continuing to walk with deliberate slowness towards them. ‘You need her alive.’
Pierre’s face twisted with hate, ‘We need her ... but not the child she is carrying!’ He pressed the dagger into Mistral, making her flinch.
Fabian immediately halted and glared at Pierre with unadulterated hatred, ‘Hurt her and you die Pierre.’
Pierre barked out a harsh laugh, ‘Empty threats De Winter! Save your breath to beg!’ He twisted the knife suddenly, digging it deeper into Mistral side. She bit down a gasp, feeling fresh blood run down her side.
Fabian snarled, his hands curling into fists.
‘Hold your temper Mage De Winter!’ Pierre warned. ‘Or I will cut her deep!’
A loud snort broke the tension. Pierre’s grip on Mistral tightened reflexively and she cried out aloud as the dagger cut into her again. Fabian’s eyes immediately tightened and Mistral stared at him, imploring him silently not to do anything rash. His gaze flickered over her face then locked onto Pierre’s again, icy rage resonating from every line of his body. A sudden movement from behind Fabian drew Mistral’s panicked stare. It was the unicorn stallion pawing the ground agitatedly, his black eyes fixed on Pierre, the source of the unnatural ozone scent that threatened his herd.
Fabian didn’t turn to look at the stallion but continued to hold Pierre’s cold stare, speaking in quiet voice, ‘And what are Etienne’s plans for me?’
Mistral blinked and stared at Fabian again. His expression was suddenly calm, almost polite. His hands had uncurled and were hanging loosely by his sides. Mistral instantly knew that he was trying to lull Pierre into a sense of complacency by appearing relaxed. She felt a burst of dread ... Fabian was about to do something rash.
Pierre shrugged, the rise and fall of his shoulders making the dagger dig painfully into Mistral. She winced and saw the resulting flash of fire in Fabian’s eyes while Pierre spoke. ‘You will die De Winter … eventually … and become just another Noble to meet his end at the righteous hand of a Rochforte. I am sure Etienne will want to subject you to a small amount of pain first, just to ensure that your wife will have some lasting memories of you.’
The callousness of Pierre’s words sent a chill through Mistral. She saw Fabian’s eyes narrow fractionally and knew that he was about to act. She tensed, preparing herself for whatever he was about to do.
‘I refuse to suffer the indignity of death by a Rochforte hand.’ Fabian hissed coldly.
‘You will die! And soon!’ Pierre snarled. ‘Etienne is on his way!’
‘Fabian!’ Mistral felt the air around them pulse with the unseen power of the spell he was preparing to cast, her cry of warning turning into a scream as Pierre flung her to the ground. His boot stamped down, pinning her beneath his weight. The air around her rippled, searing her throat with the burning reek of ozone. ‘NO!’ Her shriek was lost in a series of confusing noises. The ground beneath her prone body reverberated with the force of something heavy running towards them ... Pierre shouted in pain and suddenly the weight pinning her down was gone. Mistral quickly rolled away and staggered to her feet, staring around wildly. She cried out as hands took hold of her again, holding her firmly by the shoulders.
‘It’s me Mistral.’
She let out a cry of relief and threw her arms around him, pressing herself tightly to him, ‘What happened? Where’s Pierre?’
‘The unicorn stallion charged him.’
‘Oh!’ The sound of something heavy had been the unicorn stallion galloping at Pierre. She turned in Fabian’s arms to see Pierre slumped on the ground. ‘Is he dead?’
‘No, just unconscious –’
‘I’ll soon change that!’ Mistral reached into the back of her belt for her dagger.
‘No, Mistral! He must live, and we must go! Now!’
‘Why the hell should he deserve to live?’ Mistral shouted angrily, struggling against his grip.
‘To be
read.’ Fabian replied shortly and began to drag her towards the stables. ‘How badly are you hurt?’ He demanded, his eyes taking in the cut visible through the tear in her shirt.
‘It’s nothing –’
Fabian’s eyes lingered on hers. She could hear the conflict in his thoughts; his anxiety for her battling with the urge to get them away from the farmhouse before the Rochforte party closed in.
‘It’s just a couple of nicks, I’ll clean them up when we’re back at the ship –’ Mistral’s lies seemed to work. They quickly saddled Cirrus and Spirit and led them from their stalls. Throwing herself into the saddle Mistral gathered up her reins and glanced over at the unicorn herd. ‘What about them?’
Fabian was already riding out of the courtyard, ‘Forget them Mistral! We need to go!’
Mistral held Cirrus back and looked at the bedraggled herd of unicorns, the innocent victims caught in the middle, ‘No Fabian. I’m not leaving them.’ She kicked Cirrus towards the stallion, now circling his mares protectively.
‘We don’t have time!’ Fabian shouted angrily.
‘We can’t just leave them here! They’ll be hunted or die of neglect!’ Mistral shouted back stubbornly. She urged Cirrus through the nervously milling herd to the stallion. ‘Come on boy, it’s alright,’ she called soothingly. ‘We’re going to take you home.’ The unicorn stallion eyed her warily but didn’t move away. ‘You’ll like the Isle,’ she promised in a low murmur, edging still closer. ‘It’s got lots of grass –’ The stallion’s ears flickered as he listened to the calming tone of her voice. He whickered softly and took a step towards her, closing the distance between them.
‘Mistral! We need to go! Now!’
Fabian’s urgent shout startled the stallion; he threw his head up with a loud snort. Mistral instantly flung herself forwards to grab the length of rope attached to his halter. The stallion instinctively shied but Mistral had spent enough time catching her own unwilling horse to know it was a half-hearted attempt. She held onto the rope tightly and swiftly pulled Cirrus around. The unicorn followed, snorting fearfully. Fabian immediately snatched the leadrope from her with a terse look and kicked Spirit into a canter across the yard, dragging the unicorn with him. Cirrus wheeled agitatedly when Mistral held him back, twisting in the saddle to look round at the herd of mares. They were huddled together in the centre of the enclosure, anxiously watching their stallion cantering away. Praying that they would follow, Mistral dug her heels into Cirrus and rode after Fabian. Cirrus lunged forwards impatiently, his iron shod hooves clattering loudly on the cobbles. Quickly catching Fabian up, they thundered through the open gate side by side, pushing their horses into a gallop across the open grassland.
The Seer Page 42
