The Seer

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The Seer Page 56

by Kirsten Jones


  ‘I don’t think it was the bottom half of your attire that Master Sphinx was worried about.’ Phantom muttered. ‘In fact, I’m surprised you can do that jerkin up –’

  ‘Drink in The Cloak then.’ Mistral said quickly and sped up slightly before Phantom could elaborate.

  Mistral woke later that night in confusion to find tears pouring down her face. She sat up and rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing and heard again the gentle tapping sound that had dragged her from her dream.

  ‘Mistral?’ Phantasm’ voice called anxiously through the door.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Fine!’ She called back in wavering voice.

  At once the door opened and Phantasm’s sleep tousled head peered cautiously around the gap, ‘You are dressed aren’t you? Ah, of course, Mage De Winter’s silk shirt, what else would be suitable attire to sleep in?’ Sighing heavily, Phantasm stole softly into the room and shoved Prospero off the bed to sit beside her. ‘Now, care to tell me why you were sobbing loud enough to wake me up?’

  ‘Was I?’ She asked, looking embarrassed.

  Phantasm nodded silently and placed an arm around her. Whether it was because the dream was still so fresh in her mind or simply because she was still half-asleep, for once Mistral didn’t reject the offered comfort. ‘Are you missing Mage De Winter?’ He asked gently.

  Mistral gave a hollow laugh, ‘Come on brother, you know I am. But that’s not why I was crying –’ her voice tailed off and Phantasm immediately tensed.

  ‘Is everything alright with the baby? You didn’t hurt yourself helping out in that stupid training session today did you?’

  Mistral gave a sigh. The baby, it was always about the baby with them these days; their precious godson. ‘I’m fine ... he’s fine ... we’re fine.’

  Phantasm relaxed slightly, ‘Then, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I had a dream.’

  ‘Oh!’ He was instantly alert again. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Not a premonition, just a … a sad dream that’s all.’

  ‘I see. Well, do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘No. I can’t.’ Mistral hesitated and looked down at the wet sleeve of Fabian’s shirt. ‘It’s not my dream to tell.’

  ‘Ah.’ Phantasm sighed in understanding. ‘One of Mage De Winter’s.’

  Mistral nodded and felt tears trickling down her cheeks again. Since returning from France Fabian had begun to dream about his childhood, something he never spoke about. At first the dreams had focussed on the cold and distant figure of his father. She always awoke from those dreams with a clear sense of determination, Fabian’s determination not to be the same towards their son. But more recently his dreams had centred on his relationship with his mother. She had been miserable; stifled by her marriage to the aloof Lord De Winter and by her empty life at the Council. It was obvious from the expression on her face when she looked at the boy in Fabian’s dreams that she loved him, but even that was taken from her by her husband’s insistence on having him raised by a nursemaid. Fabian could see the sadness in his mother and with the simplicity of a child’s reasoning he thought that her unhappiness was his fault. It was almost unbearable for Mistral to share in the suffering he was reliving through his dreams and not be able to offer him any sort of comfort. Hugging her arms tightly around her knees she sighed, wishing she could wrap them around Fabian instead.

  ‘But I thought he only dreamt of Contracts?’

  Phantasm’s question broke across her yearning thoughts. She met his curious look briefly then dropped her gaze. ‘They’ve changed recently,’ she muttered.

  With the uncanny perceptiveness that both he and his brother possessed, Phantasm immediately grasped the reason for her tears, ‘Mage De Winter will not repeat his father’s mistakes Mistral. He will be a good father.’

  Mistral gazed out of the open window at the moonlit village. She could just see the rooftop of the small house Fabian had rented for them to live in while she was pregnant. ‘I know he will.’

  ‘Go back to sleep, I’ll stay with you for a while.’

  Phantasm swung his legs up onto the bed and lay back, placing an arm around while she curled by his side. Listening to the quiet sound of his breathing she closed her eyes and let her thoughts join those of her Mage once more.

  Three Homecomings

  To her surprise, the dreaded two weeks of Fabian’s absence didn’t exactly fly by but they did pass more quickly than she had anticipated. It finally stopped raining and, faced with the empty void of her first Sunday without Fabian, Mistral decided to ride out and visit the centaur tribe.

  ‘We’ll come with you.’ Phantasm said, rising from the sofa to fetch his cloak. ‘I wanted you to spend the day speaking French. We can practise on the ride.’

  ‘I’ve never had so much fun in my life.’ Mistral grumbled and bent to lace her boots up before sitting up again quickly with a grimace of discomfort. She gazed meditatively down at her boots, wondering how on earth she was going to do them up.

  ‘What’s wrong, forgotten how to tie a bow?’ Phantom frowned from the armchair he was lounging in while he waited for her to get ready.

  ‘No,’ she snapped and swung a leg up onto the sofa, reaching down to try and tie them from a different angle. ‘Damn it!’

  ‘Oh! I think I see what your problem is!’ Phantom laughed. Unfolding himself elegantly from the depths of the armchair he strolled towards her with an irritating smirk on his face.

  Mistral glared at him with an expression somewhere between anger and misery while he knelt and quickly tied her laces. How was Fabian going to feel about having to practically dress her every morning before they left the house?

  ‘There we go, all dressed and ready! Now would you care to stand by yourself or would her ladyship be requiring a pulley to help her from the sofa?’

  Mistral launched herself off the sofa and flung out a hand to cuff him around the side of the head. Laughing, Phantom nimbly dodged her slap and was out of the door before she could catch him.

  ‘I’ll kill him!’ Mistral fumed to Phantasm.

  ‘Dans le français s'il vous plait Mistral.’ Phantasm replied primly and held the door open for her while she called him every name she could think of, in French.

  ‘Not bad pronunciation … content needs a little work though.’ Phantasm remarked and slipped his arm through hers to walk along the street towards the stableyard.

  The ride through the forests was the highlight of Mistral’s long fortnight. To be out in the fresh air and away from the Valley where everyone seemed to want something from her was pure bliss. She said nothing at all for the entire journey and, despite Phantasm’s earlier threat to make her converse in French, he left her in peace and appeared content to gossip with his brother. Mistral gazed around happily at her surroundings; everywhere she looked was lush and green, bursting with new life. Shafts of warm sunlight pierced through the gnarled branches of the oak trees, creating glistening halos around the twins’ blonde heads; her guardian angels.

  Prospero appeared thrilled to be out of the Valley too. The hunting dog was in his element, plunging enthusiastically into the bracken to flush out unsuspecting rabbits and even a wild pig.

  ‘Missed one there Mistral.’ Phantom remarked, nodding towards the tusked creature, grunting with fear while it fled for its life from Prospero.

  Mistral ignored him. She had finally gone off roast boar, much to the relief of the twins who were heartily sick of having to eat the strong-tasting meat while she was staying with them.

  The twins fell silent when they approached the centaurs’ tribal home, pulling back to allow Mistral to ride slightly ahead and greet the centaur on lookout. She recognised the bay centaur from her previous visit and greeted him politely as she approached.

  ‘Hello Storm.’

  ‘Hail Seer, we have been expecting you,’ the centaur replied in a deep voice.

  Mistral repressed a sigh. Of course they had. No doubt
Imperato had been reading the stars like some kind of celestial noticeboard for the last two weeks. She realised that Storm was gazing expectantly at the twins, waiting for her to introduce them.

  ‘Oh, sorry, that’s Phantom and the one on the right is Phantasm, but don’t worry if you can’t tell them apart, it’s taken me over two years to work it out. Phantom is slightly more irritating and Phantasm is bossy,’ she added helpfully.

  ‘Hail to the Gemini.’ Storm bowed his head in a formal greeting to each of the twins in turn who nodded respectfully back.

  Mistral didn’t know why she was surprised that Storm knew of the title bestowed on the twins by the nature of their gift; they seemed to know everything, which made her suddenly think of something she should really ask Alyssa.

  ‘You are welcome in our tribal home. Please follow me, Alyssa is waiting for you.’

  Mistral gritted her teeth, of course she was; surprise parties must be a real flop around here.

  Ease up a bit Mistral! You look like you’re chewing on a wasp!

  Forcing a smile onto her face, Mistral followed Storm into the tribe’s settlement. They crossed the open space where the centaurs ate together and approached one of the larger huts set back beneath the fringes of the forest. Storm didn’t speak but dipped his head briefly and backed away, leaving Mistral and the twins standing on their own outside the hut.

  Er, do we knock?

  ‘No need brother, I’m sure they already knew we’d be standing here at precisely this time.’ Mistral muttered caustically and right on cue, the door opened to reveal Alyssa, smiling warmly at her.

  She looks just like you! Well, from the waist up anyway …

  ‘My daughter!’ Alyssa greeted Mistral in her husky voice and opened her arms, after a moment’s awkward pause Mistral stepped forward to endure a hug.

  Put some feeling in it Mistral!

  Mistral patted Alyssa on the back a couple of times then broke away with what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face.

  ‘You look well.’ Alyssa smiled proudly down at Mistral’s growing shape.

  ‘I feel great.’ Mistral replied in an insincere mutter then turned to flap a hand in the direction of the twins. ‘Phantom … Phantasm –’

  ‘The Gemini.’ Alyssa smiled shyly at them. ‘I am honoured to meet my grandson’s godfathers.’

  Wasn’t there anything the centaurs didn’t know? Mistral rolled her eyes and determined to make it a short visit.

  At Alyssa’s insistence they stayed to share a midday meal with the tribe. Imperato and the twins seemed to be getting on … well, Mistral mused to herself with an ironic smile; as much as anyone could get on with her serious-minded father. She made an effort to listen to their conversation with a view to joining in, but after only a few moments felt her eyes begin to glaze over and swiftly gave up before she actually fell asleep. Realising that she was going to have to make conversation with Alyssa, Mistral heaved a martyred sigh and turned to face the centaur that was her mother.

  ‘Um, Alyssa?’ Her mother she may be, but Mistral drew the line at calling her parents by anything but their given names.

  ‘Yes my daughter?’

  ‘Centaurs carry their young for eleven months don’t they?’

  ‘Yes.’ Alyssa smiled. ‘You are wondering how long you will carry for?’

  Mistral nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the wooden platter of food in front of her. The conversation had already wandered too far into the realms of embarrassing; eye contact was out of the question.

  ‘I cannot say how long you will carry for. You are unique, as is your child.’

  Giving another mute nod Mistral sighed inwardly. Had she really been so stupid as to expect a straight answer from a centaur? Something practical, like a number of months maybe? It wasn’t as though she was asking for a precise date and time … just a rough idea would have done! But, oh no, it had to be some enigmatic answer like “only the stars will tell”.

  Will you stop rolling your eyes! You look like you’re having a fit of some sort!

  Mistral complained about the centaurs for the entire ride back to the Valley.

  ‘They’re just so indecisive!’

  ‘Abstract maybe, but not indecisive.’ Phantasm argued mildly.

  ‘And boring!’

  ‘Serious,’ he corrected.

  And so it went on with Phantasm fending off every accusation Mistral threw until she’d run out of failings to list and was resorted to riding in a huffy silence, much to the twins’ relief.

  During the following week Mistral attended two more meetings, both of which were capped off with another request from Mage Grapple to read Bellicose La Monte; something she was extremely unwilling to do and if it hadn’t been for the reassuring presence of the twins Mistral doubted she’d have summoned the courage to even try. Both times he had been hunting. Mercifully Mistral had withdrawn from his thoughts before he had actually caught his intended victim. The only comment Mage Grapple made on her chilling revelations was to thank her for her time before abruptly exiting the room. The twins told her later that they recognised the locations she described in her visions as places in the Council stronghold. Bellicose’s new hunting ground.

  When she wasn’t helping Nereus with the first years, she was either suffering a French lesson with Phantasm or enjoying the rare pleasure of taking Cirrus out for a ride. The only downside was that one of her brothers insisted on accompanying her, when all she really wanted was some solitude.

  ‘Of course, you could always apply to be a Training Lieutenant when you’ve finished paying off your apprenticeship.’ Cain mused. ‘The experience you’re gaining now will stand you in good stead.’

  They were riding across the meadows, idly watching Prospero bounding happily through the long grass chasing rabbits.

  ‘No thanks,’ she replied shortly. ‘I’m fed up with the Valley.’

  ‘I must admit, it’s pretty overcrowded at the moment.’ Cain agreed. ‘It’s all the warriors coming back to vote this weekend. Xerxes is almost beside himself with excitement.’

  ‘What, at the vote? Has he got a bet on who wins?’

  ‘No! Well, yes, of course he’s got a bet on who wins, but that’s not why he’s excited. It’s all the extra warriors, new business and all that. He’s been running games in The Cloak from lunchtime till midnight all week!’

  ‘At least someone’s enjoying the campaign.’ Mistral said bitterly. ‘If I see one more poster with Mycroft’s face on it think I might actually be sick!’

  ‘No, you’re past that stage now.’

  ‘Well, I feel a relapse coming on then! Especially when I see Malachi skulking in corners, spreading his poison to anyone that’ll listen!’

  Cain looked up interestedly, ‘Has he got anything up his sleeve before the vote?’

  Mistral frowned, ‘Not that I’ve Seen. Whenever I read him he’s just full of disdain for Leo and Mycroft’s campaigns. I never seem to catch him actually thinking about his own plans to be Divinus. He’s either being extremely clever with his thoughts, or he really doesn’t have a plan.’

  ‘I suppose he could be disciplined enough only to think about his plans at times when he knows you’re occupied; the Council meetings are hardly secret are they?’ Cain said thoughtfully. ‘Anyway, if he does have a plan of some sort, it’ll become clear on Saturday night when they make their final speeches.’

  ‘Fabian should be back by then.’ Mistral sighed and gazed longingly over at the forests, now heavy with foliage.

  ‘Well he’ll certainly notice a difference in you.’ Cain smiled down at her growing midriff.

  ‘I know! How can two weeks make such a difference?’

  ‘You’re five months pregnant now Mistral. There’s no hiding it any longer.’

  ‘I haven’t been hiding it!’ She snapped.

  ‘No, of course not.’ Cain smiled at her baggy shirt and gathered his reins up, preparing to turn around and turn back towards the Valley.

/>   Mistral quickly reached over and touched his arm, ‘Actually, Cain? While we’re alone, er, there’s something I wanted to ask you, about the baby that is –’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I felt this really weird sensation today, like a pain, but less, more just a really uncomfortable fluttering –’

  ‘You felt him move!’ Cain grinned.

  ‘Was that what it was?’ Mistral looked displeased. ‘Well he can stop doing it! It was really strange!’

  ‘Sorry to tell you this Mistral, but he’s only going to get more active. Wait till he starts kicking!’

  ‘What?’

  Cain laughed and shook his head at her, ‘I really wonder at you sometimes. In so many ways you’re the most self-sufficient person I’ve ever met, but in others you’re woefully unprepared for life!’

  ‘Blame my parents.’

  ‘Imperato and Alyssa? But they didn’t even raise you!’

  ‘Exactly! They dumped me on a clapped-out pair of sorcerers to be brought up in a dull fleapit where the most exciting thing to happen was the mystery of someone killing the village rooster!’

  ‘That’d be you I assume?’

  Mistral shrugged crossly, ‘Damn thing used to crow when I was sneaking back from overnight hunting trips and wake up Brothertoft, and boy would he moan! He’d bang on for hours about how dangerous the forests were and how I would never attract a suitable husband behaving the way I did.’

  ‘Well, I think you proved him wrong there.’

  Mistral sighed and gazed over at the forests again, her face losing all expression while her mind reached out to Fabian’s, ‘Two days ride –’ Her dreamy voice abruptly changed to one filled with excitement. ‘I’m going to go and meet them!’ She declared impulsively. ‘It’s only a day’s ride if I meet them halfway!’

  ‘No you are not!’ Cain snapped and grabbed hold of Cirrus’ reins, holding him back.

  ‘Oh come on Cain! It’s only one night out in the open! It won’t kill me!’

  ‘It’s not about you Mistral, as I keep telling you!’

 

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