The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Tether the horses close by! I saw manticore tracks back there – not yours Grendel! No manticore on the Isle would dare tackle that beast! And get him away from my mare!’

  ‘He makes Leo look polite!’ Phantom muttered to his brother while they laid kindling out for a fire.

  ‘No fire!’ Samson shouted. ‘We’re too close to the vampire tribe!’

  ‘Huh, they might not see the fire but they’ll definitely hear him shouting.’ Phantom grumbled and tossed the kindling bad-temperedly back into his saddlebag.

  Fabian spread the map out again, using the last of the daylight to plan a route for the morning. The other warriors knelt around the outspread map, peering closely to where Fabian indicated. ‘This is our current position … the vampire tribe are located within this region here,’ he drew a circle with his finger around the red dot, unnervingly close to where they were camping. ‘There are two possible routes out of the mountains from there,’ he continued, tracing two lines out from the red dot. ‘However, we cannot afford to split up and cover both; we will need Mistral to tell us which one they will be taking.’ He broke off to look at her expectantly.

  ‘Now?’ she asked through the mouthful of cold meat she was chewing.

  A hint of a smile touched Fabian’s lips, ‘Well, perhaps you should finish eating first.’

  Mistral gave him a meaningful look and rammed another piece of meat into her mouth, ‘Definitely. Because I’m sure whatever I’ll see will put me off eating again tonight.’

  ‘I hate it when you talk with your mouth full.’ Phantom muttered and picked elegantly at a piece of bread.

  Feeling the pressure of eleven pairs of eyes, Mistral hurriedly swallowed her half-chewed mouthful and washed it down with a swig of water, ‘Right,’ she choked. ‘Bellicose for dessert –’

  ‘Take your time Mistral.’ Fabian murmured.

  ‘I’d rather not if you don’t mind,’ she settled down into a cross-legged position and closed her eyes. ‘His is not exactly the type of mind that invites a long stay.’

  Slowing her breathing and letting her head drop onto her chest, Mistral called up the all too familiar image of glowing red eyes and pallid skin, falling back into his mind with effortlessness borne of spending the last day almost constantly monitoring his thoughts. Her head snapped up sharply and her eyes stared unseeingly at Fabian.

  ‘I See –’

  ‘What do you See Mistral?’ Fabian asked softly, gazing into the empty voids of her eyes.

  ‘They gather … like we do … it is a council of war … Bellicose and Malachi are discussing the layout of the Valley.’ She paused, her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. ‘Malachi speaks of a way in that is unknown to most … an entrance from the east –’

  Fabian and Samson shared a perplexed look.

  ‘There is no East Gate!’

  ‘Malachi knows of a supply tunnel that leads from the dairy in the eastern meadows to the kitchen cellars –’ Mistral suddenly grinned, baring her teeth with a savagery that was bizarrely discordant with the vagueness of her eyes. ‘We shall level them from within! How the mighty Ri shall fall! I will spit the blood of their false Divinus on the still warm bodies of his brethren before the warning bell tolls its first!’

  Unused to seeing Mistral in the grip of a deep trance, Samson’s three companions stared at her fearfully but the others merely listened intently to the alien harshness of her voice.

  ‘We leave at first light my brothers! Our patience shall soon be rewarded! Victory is nigh … we shall call together the scattered tribes and unite them under my rule … it is time for the repressed to rise up and rebel! The Council will fall! I shall lead us to a future that is rightfully ours and give us the freedom to hunt the pathetic specimens that dare to look down upon us now! How they will quiver with terror when our plans are realised!’ Mistral let out a high laugh, her eyes remained emotionless, but her face twisted into an expression of vitriolic ecstasy. ‘A new dawn is upon us! Tonight we celebrate the end of an era, for tomorrow we leave and the light of the rising sun will warm the faces of our vanquishing heroes … but now I have a gift for my young, who will know a future free from repression and restraints … a life for you to enjoy, fresh and warm; see how the pulse still beats in his neck –’

  ‘Enough! Enough! Enough!’ Brutus shouted, leaping to his feet with a wild expression on his face.

  ‘Mistral, come away, come back to me. Hear me now –’

  While Fabian drew Mistral from her trance Brutus sank slowly back to the ground and rubbed his hands over his face. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘That Bellicose … he just really gets to me.’

  ‘Me too brother.’ Xerxes agreed in a hard voice. ‘And tomorrow we shall get to him.’

  ‘Plan and Prepare!’ Samson announced loudly. ‘The rules of combat. These,’ he paused and pulled a handful of iron collars from his saddlebag and dropped them to the ground with a sonorous clang, ‘are for tomorrow. Clovis made them for me a while back.’

  Phantom picked up one of the collars and turned it over in his hands; pointing at a series of sharp dints imprinted in the metal he raised his eyebrows at his brother.

  Samson caught his look, ‘Yes Phantom, those are teeth marks. Vampires preferred method of attack is to go for the jugular. They rarely carry weapons, although we can’t discount that possibility. Other distinguishing traits are that their arms are of equal length to their legs, which gives them the ability to run like the dogs they are, but sadly for us means they have a damned long reach when it comes to close quarters … and don’t fool yourselves! Because that’s what it will come to ... we will be fighting face-to-face with them tomorrow!’

  ‘Mind the skin –’ Mistral looked up suddenly. ‘It’s covered with short bristles, like suede – but I think it’s toxic, or at least really sharp because … oh, never mind how I know, but just wear gloves and don’t have your shirt sleeves rolled up.’

  ‘You heard her.’ Samson said briskly. ‘Gloves armour and collars on. We need to be protected.’

  ‘Now we know the route they are going to take, we can plan our position.’ Fabian leaned over the map once again. ‘Bellicose said that the light of the rising sun would warm their faces, which means they are going to take the eastern trail heading here,’ he traced a finger lightly down the map. ‘Which provides us with two possible sites for an ambush.’

  While Fabian and Samson debated the advantages of the two locations Mistral sank back against Prospero’s recumbent bulk and closed her eyes. Bellicose’s words about rebellion had reminded her uncomfortably of Alyssa. She realised guiltily that she hadn’t given her mother a moment’s consideration since fleeing the centaur tribe three days ago. Alyssa had defied Imperato in helping her to escape and risked being ostracized by the tribe for her actions. Closing her eyes and sinking more deeply into the comforting warmth of Prospero’s thick coat, Mistral let her mind reach out for her mother’s, the retired rebel.

  Alyssa’s thoughts floated like music into hers, a harmonious orchestra of love and happiness. Imperato was with her … they were reminiscing about their youth … the independent and headstrong Alyssa, so convinced that the life of the tribe was not for her … laughing together at how wrong she’d been and how she, Mistral; their daughter, was so like her –

  ‘Now either Bellicose has started telling jokes or you’re reading someone far less sinister!’

  ‘Ah, brother.’ Mistral sighed, opening her eyes to meet Phantom’s inquisitive green gaze. ‘I would tell you, but I’m not sure I’ve forgiven you yet.’

  ‘You will.’

  ‘Might not.’

  ‘Will.’

  Mistral raised an eyebrow, ‘And what makes you so sure?’

  ‘This,’ he smiled smugly and dropped a small package onto her lap.

  She unfolded the linen coverings and let out a low cry of joy, ‘Roast beef!’

  ‘Welcome to your new craving!’

  ‘How did you know?’ Mistral dema
nded through a mouthful of the cold meat.

  ‘Come on Mistral, you’ve been living with us for most of your pregnancy, I even know how many times a night you have to go –’

  Mistral halted him with a muffled, ‘Nuff said!’

  ‘Hmm, perhaps when you’ve finished masticating half a dead cow you could tell me why you were smiling?’

  ‘I was reading Alyssa.’ Mistral managed after a huge swallow.

  ‘Ah, of course.’ Phantom’s face was overcome by the blissful look of having had a niggling suspicion confirmed. ‘So that’s how you escaped! But why didn’t they come after you?’

  Mistral rolled her eyes while she took another huge bite of meat, talking to him between chews, ‘Imperato’s a big believer in being free to follow your destiny. He obeyed Fabian’s wishes to try and keep me safe out of respect for his son-in-law, but when I escaped he put it down to fate … handy really, since I don’t think I’d have been able to outrun that lot.’

  ‘Do you want us to let him know you’ve reached us?’

  ‘Huh! You’re joking aren’t you? Imperato’s probably read all about my arrival in that celestial noticeboard the rest of us call the sky!’ Mistral ignored Phantom’s burst of laughter and scowled at him. ‘I’ve still not forgiven you and your brother for plotting behind my back with Fabian.’

  ‘Oh come on Mistral, we were only trying to keep you safe.’ Phantom sighed. ‘You know that if Phantasm could actually carry and give birth to that godson of his, he would.’

  Mistral pulled a face and stuffed the last of the meat into her mouth, giving it a cursory chew before swallowing it and patting her stomach with a contented smile, ‘Thanks brother,’ she murmured, closing her eyes. ‘Just what I needed.’

  ‘Glad I could be of service. Now that we’re talking again, can finally tell me what you Saw in Master Sphinx’s aura during Grendel’s wedding … Mistral? Mistral! Oh, damn it! If only Bellicose were so easily appeased!’ Phantom grumbled, regarding her sleeping form in exasperation.

  ‘Is she asleep already?’ Phantasm asked, breaking off from his conversation with one of Samson’s warriors to frown down at the comatose Mistral.

  ‘Oh yes.’ Phantom regarded her thoughtfully, watching her sleeping face crease into a pained expression. ‘But I wouldn’t thank you for her dreams.’

  Fabian immediately turned and reached over to wake her.

  ‘You can’t protect her from her dreams Mage De Winter.’ Phantasm said softly.

  Fabian’s hands fell limply to his sides, his eyes drifting over the half-wolf he’d bought to protect her life and the fingers curled into his fur bearing the ring he’d placed there to protect her future, and now the future of their son. He abruptly turned to look at Phantasm. ‘We must talk.’

  ‘Now?’ Phantasm glanced at Mistral.

  Fabian shook his head, ‘She might wake. Later –’

  The warriors planned until the moon had risen to reside over them in a brilliant crescent, lighting the map they pored obsessively over. A cold easterly wind sprang up, lifting the map’s edges and threatening to rip it out from beneath Samson’s hands.

  ‘We have our plan,’ he finally announced with a grim nod. ‘We leave before the dawn breaks and head for the northern-most gorge. Xerxes and Brutus will take position on the high ground with longbows to begin with; the rest of us will conceal ourselves in the rocks and wait. If you have no objections Fabian, I shall take point. I can see that your focus is torn.’

  Fabian made a dismissive gesture, his eyes not leaving Mistral’s sleeping form.

  ‘Good, then we rest.’ Samson grunted and folded up the map. ‘Grendel, you have first watch.’

  The warriors settled in for the night, wrapping themselves in their cloaks to fall into an uneasy sleep, disturbed by the wind that blew across the mouth of the cave in an ominous moaning sound. Two cloaked figures moved stealthily across the flat moonlit rock, slipping out of sight into the deep shadows at the edge of the mountain. There they halted and turned to face once another, lowering their hoods to reveal their faces; one with eyes darker than the midnight sky and the other with eyes that gleamed brighter than any polished jewel.

  ‘You have a plan you wish to discuss with me Mage De Winter?’ Phantasm murmured.

  Fabian nodded. He turned his head fractionally to look back at the cave where Mistral was asleep, wrapped in the warmth of both their Wolverine skins and Prospero. ‘I wish for you and your brother to remain here and use your gift to keep Mistral asleep when we leave.’

  Phantasm regarded Fabian for a long moment before replying, ‘We will, of course, comply with your request Mage De Winter,’ he paused then continued in a more passionate voice. ‘But I assure you it is only out of a wish to protect her and the life she is carrying. We are Ri too! It does not sit well with me to be left hiding here whilst my brothers fight!’

  Fabian held Phantasm’s angry gaze steadily, ‘I do not make this request lightly brother. There are no others I would entrust her life with.’

  Surprise flickered in Phantasm’s eyes at Fabian’s use of the respectful term. He nodded once then glanced over at Mistral. ‘I’m not sure how long we can influence her to remain asleep for though. Sight will make her aware of your absence.’

  ‘Then I must wake the others and ensure we have left before that happens.’ Fabian turned away and began walking back to the cave.

  ‘And when she does awake, what then?’ Phantasm called quietly.

  Fabian halted, his back still towards Phantasm, ‘Keep her out of this fight. By any means necessary. I will not question your means.’

  ‘We may have to restrain her –’

  ‘So be it.’ Fabian began to walk back to the camp before abruptly stopping. He remained still for a moment then turned around and strode back to stand before Phantasm once more, fixing him with his deep black stare. ‘I ask this of you now, and your absolute honesty is what I seek.’

  ‘Ask.’ Phantasm responded quietly. ‘My reply shall be truthful.’

  ‘Should I not return from today’s fight, will you embrace the full responsibilities of your role as godfather?’

  ‘Without hesitation.’

  Fabian’s voice was tense, ‘And … Mistral?’

  Phantasm gazed calmly back at Fabian, ‘We will always be there for Mistral.’

  Fabian closed his eyes and let out a low sigh, ‘Then I am satisfied that should I die today, they will be assured of a steadying influence in their lives.’ He opened his eyes to stare forcefully at Phantasm, his hands reflexively curling into fists by his side. ‘Should she meet another –’

  Phantasm cut across him in a flat voice, ‘She will not.’

  ‘You misunderstand.’ Fabian continued in a softer voice. ‘I would not wish a life of loneliness for her. I would want her to love again.’

  ‘She is not capable of loving again the way she does you, Mage De Winter, I am certain of that.’

  Fabian regarded Phantasm closely, understanding stirring in the black depths of his eyes, ‘You share a bond through your gifts that I am unable comprehend. An affinity ... but also, I think, a love?’

  ‘Yes.’ Phantasm admitted quietly. ‘But she is, and always has been, yours. There cannot be another for her.’ A short silence fell while Phantasm lifted his eyes up to contemplate the night sky. He drew in a long breath and let it out slowly before lowering his gaze back to meet Fabian’s again. ‘I am bound to my brother through more than our gift; we are but one soul, eternally joined and forever incomplete without the other. Such is our destiny … and it will never permit either of us to find love or share in a life without the other,’ he paused and smiled. ‘We are to be your son’s godfathers and Mistral is our sister. That is more love than we could ever have expected to know. She would be well cared for Mage De Winter, I promise.’

  Fabian continued to hold his gaze for a long moment before turning and striding back to the camp. He woke Samson first then moved quickly amongst the others, signalling t
o each as he woke them to prepare silently for immediate departure.

  Phantom stole soundlessly to his brother’s side to murmur in his ear, ‘What was that about?’

  ‘Just Mage De Winter requesting that we physically restrain Mistral while he goes off to die, oh and then look after her and their son for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘Oh, is that all.’ Phantom muttered sourly. ‘Don’t suppose he left any specific instructions on just how to restrain her did he?’

  Cain and Grendel muffled the horses’ hooves with spare shirts while the rest of the warriors quietly broke camp. The twins sat completely still, staring unwaveringly at Mistral; concentrating all of their power into influencing her to remain asleep while all around silent preparations for the day’s fight were being made. At a wordless signal from Samson the warriors mounted and rode in single file after him, one by one they vanished into the wind-torn darkness until only Fabian was left.

  He walked quietly across the cave to stare silently down at Mistral. His hands flexed involuntarily, as though he were about to reach out to touch her, and then he was gone, striding quickly over to saddle his fidgeting mare and ride away into the dark.

  The muted sound of Spirit’s hoof beats gradually faded away to leave the twins sat in absolute silence, continuing to force their will into Mistral’s mind, waging their own private battle against the powerful gift she possessed. She stirred faintly and murmured Fabian’s name but did not wake.

  Deep within her dream Mistral was standing in the meadows near the Valley. She was alone and surrounded by a thick swirling mist that seemed to press in on her from every side, preventing her from moving and causing her to panic. But oh! To her unutterable joy Fabian was suddenly there, appearing through the fog to stand before her, the sight of him instantly filling her with bliss. She felt his lips brush hers in a lingering caress and smiled. Breathing in the warm scent of his skin with a sigh of pleasure she closed her eyes and listened to his velvet voice whispering his love to her. Each murmured word sweeter than the last until she heard the one he never said, jarring like a false note in a song.