‘I –’ Mistral began and immediately stopped as tears inexplicably welled up in her eyes.
Fabian continued to regard her closely, his dark eyes forcing her to confess the truth she fought so hard to conceal, even from herself.
‘I will always blame myself for his death.’
‘And if, just for one single second, you stopped feeling guilty, would it make you feel as though you had taken Saul’s sacrifice for granted?’
Mistral nodded, unable to stop the tears from falling.
‘Then you understand why Samson is content to punish himself with guilty remorse and never seek to alleviate it.’ Fabian said simply.
‘But she might be happily married with a huge brood of children and not even remember him!’
‘That may be so, however it is Samson’s choice to make, and he is definitely big enough and ugly enough to make his own now.’ Smiling, Fabian brushed the tears away from her cheeks with his fingertips. ‘But now, my beautiful Lieutenant, why don’t you tell me what plans you have for the first week of lessons when we return?’
Mistral smiled, her eyes suddenly shining with enthusiasm, ‘I’ve had this great idea I wanted to discuss with you! In fact, can we ride back through The Velvet Forests? There’s a few things I’d like to pick up on the way –’
‘Do you ever wonder what life would’ve been like if our father hadn’t died?’ Phantom asked as he leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out lazily in front of him.
‘Empty.’ Phantasm replied, gazing over at Mistral talking animatedly with Fabian.
‘Oh I don’t know.’ Phantom mused with a hiccup. ‘We’d be having a masquerade ball, or something equally as grand for our twenty first … that would be anything but empty!’
Phantasm turned to give his brother a scathing look, ‘A room full of Mages we barely know, only there because of our father and not because they give a damn about his half-breed sons? That would be the very definition of empty, brother!’
‘Maybe, but we’d be rich.’ Phantom argued.
‘We are rich, just not in the monetary sense.’
Phantom looked around idly at the circle of warriors; Cain was teaching Samson a card trick, Xerxes and Brutus were dancing a jig to a tune Darius was playing on a pipe while Prospero ran around them in circles, barking excitedly and Grendel was laid out snoring beside a pile of empty wineskins, oblivious to Chester drawing on his face with a charred stick from the fire.
‘Maybe you’re right brother.’ Phantom yawned, closing his eyes and leaning back against his saddlebag. ‘I don’t suppose there’d be many opportunities for us to be godfathers either, being scummy half-breeds –’
‘None.’ Phantasm agreed softly.
Phantom’s eyes suddenly flew open, ‘How many children d’you think she’s going to have?’
Phantasm turned to regard Mistral, gazing adoringly at Fabian while he whispered something to her, ‘Who knows? But I’m fairly sure it’ll be more than just the one.’
‘Do you think she’ll expect us to be godfathers to all of them?’ Phantom asked with something close to panic in his voice.
Phantasm smiled, ‘I hope so.’
Phantom slumped back onto his saddlebag with a groan.
Mistral was up at dawn, slipping quietly down to the lake to wash while the rest of the warriors slept off the effects of an over-indulgence of wine and some of Cain’s more dubious home-brewed liqueurs. By the end of the night he’d dug out a foul-looking mixture that he refused to divulge the ingredients of, stating only that they were “unusual”. Samson had tried one shot, then another and after his third had declared it an “acquired taste” and passed out.
Returning to find them all still snoring, Mistral decided to cook breakfast and knelt down to coax the fire back into life. Prospero was stretched out in the warm space she had vacated, nestled close to Fabian’s side. Mistral watched her sleeping Mage while she stirred the embers of the fire. He looked so peaceful in sleep with his dark eyes closed, veiling the mirrors of his soul. They had spoken no more about Samson and Gemma the night before but had discussed their plans for training the first years. She was so excited at the double prospect of working with Fabian and having a challenge in her life again that she actually couldn’t wait to return to the Valley and get started. Leo was refusing to give her a wage until she’d completed paying back her apprenticeship but Mistral didn’t care, Fabian’s income from his role as Training Captain would be enough for them both to live on, plus they still had his earnings from the unicorn Contract to cover any unforeseen expenses. Mistral also fully intended to pull in a few Contracts on the side but had decided to keep that idea to herself; guessing it would probably be something Fabian wouldn’t approve of. She smiled at the complete contrasts in his nature; a Mage that denied his gift, an assassin that valued life, a thief that honoured morality, an ungrateful son that couldn’t wait to be a father.
Mistral sighed and poked the fire, now burning brightly once again. Sitting back from the warming flames she threaded two rabbits onto the spit and placed them over the fire. With nothing to do until they cooked she eyed her inert, snoring brothers and hoped that Cain had saved some of his potent manticore liqueur to cure their hangovers, or it was going to be a long day.
Before long the smell of roasting meat roused Prospero. He padded softly around her, sniffing hopefully at the rabbits.
‘Go wake the boys Prosp.’ Mistral urged him in a low murmur.
Prospero immediately bounded over to the twins and began to lick Phantom’s face, wagging his plumed tail energetically.
‘Ugh! Gerroff!’
Mistral laughed and watched Phantom shoving off her dog, who promptly rolled over onto his back to pant happily into Phantasm’s sleeping face.
‘Saints above! What is that smell? I think I’m going to be sick!’
Leaving the twins battling with Prospero, Mistral stole softly over to Fabian’s side and knelt down to kiss him. He responded instantly, reaching out to pull her into the warmth of his body, kissing her back with smiling lips.
‘Good morning.’
‘Hello,’ she murmured back.
‘Do I smell roast rabbit?’
‘You do. Going to get up and have some?’
‘No.’
‘Oh? Why not?’
‘Because you are going to stay here with me – ’
‘MISTRAL! Get your damned dog off me before I kill him!’
Laughing, Mistral wriggled from Fabian’s arms and went to rescue the twins from Prospero’s attempts to drown them both in dog saliva.
Gradually the warriors awoke, rubbing sore heads and moaning about parched throats. Mistral bossed them mercilessly; refusing to feed them until they’d all been down to the lake for a wash. They returned looking marginally refreshed to find bread, roast rabbit and cold leftovers from the night before ready for them. Tempers improved considerably once they’d eaten. Topping breakfast off with a much needed hair of the dog from Cain’s saddlebag, a few smiles began to emerge once again.
‘What’s the plan for today?’ Brutus asked, looking brightly at Samson, sat nursing his second tumbler of Cain’s patented pick-me-up.
‘Fabian’s in charge today.’ Samson muttered shortly.
‘We can easily cover the rest of the High Moors and reach The Velvet Forests before sunset.’ Fabian said, pointing southwards.
‘We’re going back through the forests then?’ Cain asked in surprise.
‘Hmm, there’s a couple of things I’d like to get along the way.’ Mistral said, giving Cain an enigmatic smile.
‘It’s too early for intrigue Mistral.’ Cain complained. ‘Just tell us what you’re up to.’
‘Ah, all in good time brother –’
They spent the next three days travelling back to the Valley at a leisurely pace. Samson grew more introverted with each day that passed and by the third day had fallen into a brooding silence. The other warriors left him alone; something in the set
of his scarred features didn’t invite questions on his uncharacteristic sullenness. Mistral didn’t pester him either but listened frequently to his thoughts; which revolved continually around Gemma and the chance he’d wasted. Through his mind she came to know the fair-haired girl he’d loved, smiling warmly at him out of the past, and felt his bitter regret at his betrayal of her. She was saddened to discover that Fabian had been right; Samson was envious of the love they shared and the family they were going to have. She Saw in his mind every touch and lingering look he’d witnessed and felt afresh his aching sadness born of the knowledge that the same could have been his. He dwelled obsessively over the bitter argument that had ended his relationship with Gemma; his shameful confession, her heartache, the words she’d flung at him in anger that were intractable once spoken. She had called him feckless and malign, a faithless wastrel. Mistral only just managed to stop herself from snorting out aloud when she listened to that particular memory in Samson’s mind and vowed that if she ever met Gemma, she would definitely teach her a few more choice words to describe the lying, cheating, selfish toe rag that Samson had obviously been in his youth.
Fabian and the twins noticed her perpetually vague expression but assumed she was reading Malachi; which she occasionally did, but only to be able to answer Phantom’s continual question of “What’s he thinking?” with something other than a sharp retort.
‘Travelling!’ Mistral snapped for what felt like the thousandth time. ‘Still on a sailing boat, and he’s seasick, so if you don’t mind I’m going to leave him alone for a bit!’
Samson made an effort to return to his normal carefree self when they approached the Valley, shaking off his black mood to engage Darius in a lively conversation, planning the return trip to clear out the remaining vampires.
‘Good to be back?’ Phantasm asked Mistral, riding alongside her down the path into the village square.
‘Do you know what brother? It is! I’ve got plans for those first years!’
‘I’ll bet you have. I almost feel sorry for them.’
‘Not as sorry as I feel for my pocket.’ Cain said. ‘I haven’t pulled in any Contracts since before the election and fun as this little trip’s been, it was unpaid and my shop still isn’t complete.’
‘Hmm, straight to the Agency for us I think brothers.’ Brutus agreed ruefully. ‘Holiday over.’
Mistral laughed and looked over at the Training Arena when it came into sight around a bend in the path. Leo had been teaching the first years while Fabian was away and was obviously not enjoying reprising his role as Training Captain. He was stood in the middle of the Arena with hands on his hips, bellowing at the terrified apprentices.
‘Oh dear, looks like his Leoship’s been a ray of sunshine while we’ve been away.’ Brutus sighed.
Reining to a halt beside Fabian in the village square Mistral ran a critical eye over the apprentices. They were taking part in a simple target session with throwing knives, but were so unnerved by Leo’s bad-temper that they were making a complete hash of it. Knives were flying everywhere but at the targets.
‘Time to rescue them I think.’ Fabian murmured to Mistral.
‘Allow me!’ Mistral replied quickly. ‘I’m sure Leo will want a full debrief from you anyway.’
Fabian took her reins while she swung herself out of the saddle and turned to Grendel.
‘Pass me that sack brother!’
Grendel dropped a bulging sack onto the ground with a heavy thud, eliciting a chorus of angry squeaks from the creatures tied up inside. Grabbing the neck of the sack Mistral dragged it into the Arena.
‘Morning Master Sphinx!’ she called brightly. ‘Throwing knife practise today is it?’
Leo nodded curtly and strode past her without a word, his blue eyes barely grazing over the squirming sack she was dragging behind her.
‘Oh, this is going to be good!’ Xerxes leapt from his horse and quickly tied the reins to the Arena fence. ‘Care to make a small wager?’
‘Five coins on the apprentice that’s got yarthkin blood in him.’ Brutus said quickly, joining his brother at the fence.
‘Huh! Ignore the yarthkin! He might see better than the others, but his aim’s terrible! I’ve seen him in archery sessions. I think he actually hit the door of The Cloak!’ Cain snorted and pulled his mare over to tie her next to Xerxes’ horse. ‘My money’s on the half-elf, he can shoot!’
‘Ah, but can he throw?’ Phantasm asked, leaning against the fence and eyeing the apprentices calculatingly. ‘I’ll bet on that one there, he looks like he’s got dryad blood.’
‘Right then first years!’ Mistral called loudly. ‘I want you all in a line facing the north end of the Arena … no that’s south, turn the other way –’ she rolled her eyes and pointed the bewildered looking apprentices to the correct end of the Arena.
‘Hitting a static target is pointless! Very rarely does an enemy obligingly stand still for you, so to help you improve your skills at striking moving objects I’ve brought in a few helpers,’ she paused and gestured to the sack on the floor, moving around apparently of its own accord. ‘Now, just to make things interesting, the apprentice who brings down the most gets free drinks from the rest of you in The Cloak tonight!’
The apprentices gave each other wide-eyed looks. A Lieutenant encouraging them to drink?
‘Knives ready?’ Mistral looked at them all questioningly then bent and grabbed the neck of the sack. ‘Good! Here we go then!’
Pulling off the string around the neck of the sack, Mistral tipped it upside down and shook out the contents. A mass of angrily chattering spriggans tumbled out and immediately began to scurry around on tiny bowed legs. For a brief moment the apprentices were too stunned to act then chaos erupted. Knives were suddenly flying everywhere , apprentices shoved and jostled each other, trying to get a clear shot at the small furry creatures scampering all over the Arena. Mistral retired to the fence to join her brothers and watch the pandemonium, pressing her hands to her eyes in despair when two of the apprentices collided and immediately started brawling when neither would apologise. Her brothers were in gales of laughter at the mayhem; shouting encouragement and helpful advice then letting out a collective groan of sympathy when one first year managed to fling his knife successfully into the leg of another.
‘At least one of them hit something!’ Cain said cheerfully, leaning his elbows onto the fence with a huge grin on his face.
‘I’m just glad Leo and Fabian have gone.’ Mistral muttered, wincing when one first year flung himself bodily over a spriggan to stop it making a dash for freedom, only to leap up again with a shriek of pain when the angry creature sunk its sharp teeth into him.
‘Oh, for crying out loud!’ Exhaling irritably, Mistral grabbed a handful of throwing knives from the belt around Cain’s waist and threw one after the other in rapid succession, deftly felling the tiny creatures that had defeated the apprentices.
‘Damn, did anyone bet on her doing that?’ Xerxes scowled and scanned the list of wagers he’d taken.
‘I did.’ Phantom said smugly. ‘Knew she wouldn’t resist the chance to show off!’
‘That was abysmal!’ Mistral howled at the startled first years then stormed over to pull apart the two still rolling around in the dirt. ‘And if you two are going to insist on fighting during my training sessions at least do it properly! You look like you’re cuddling each other! What the hell do you think your fists are for?’
‘Ramming in their mouths to stop them from crying by the look of them.’ Brutus said, leaning on the fence with an amused grin.
‘This is better than cards.’ Xerxes sighed with pleasure. ‘It’s a shame I’ve got to work, I could quite happily spend the summer out here watching this lot!’
‘Ah, work.’ Samson said quietly. ‘I think I feel the need to travel. In fact, I’m going to see Bragg and Napier and see if there’s some mercenary work going.’
The twins watched the rangy warrior lope away across the sq
uare.
‘He’s been quiet the last couple of days.’ Phantom mused.
‘Hmm, something’s definitely amiss … I wonder what.’
‘I wish I had her gift.’ Phantom looked over at Mistral, busy giving the windswept treatment to the apprentice who had thrown a knife into another’s leg. ‘Then I’d know everything!’
‘Thank heaven for small mercies.’ Cain muttered and untied his horse from the fence.
‘Show’s over.’ Xerxes sighed. ‘Better go see Scrimshaw, then maybe I ought to find Marietta –’
‘I’d put your armour on first if I were you brother.’ Brutus reminded him. ‘She might not have forgiven you for the slight misdemeanour with the nymphs at Grendel’s wedding.’
Xerxes smiled broadly, ‘I’d forgotten about that! I wonder if they’re still around.’
‘Oh my Grendie-Wendie! You’re back!’
They all spun around at the dramatic wail that rang out over the village square to see Liliana running towards Grendel with her arms out wide.
‘Grendie-Wendie?’ Brutus laughed. ‘Nice nickname!’
‘Hmm, maybe I’ll skip seeing her sisters and just find Marietta.’ Xerxes said, pulling a face at the sight of Liliana covering Grendel with ecstatic kisses. ‘At least she calls me by my real name.’
‘She might call you by a few others today brother.’
Star Eclipse
May blended seamlessly into the long sun-soaked days of June. Mistral’s weeks flew by in a whirl of training or mind-numbing Council meetings chaired by Mage Grapple. She would spend those boring hours in the airless Meeting Room with a vague look on her face, leaving her own mind to visit Malachi or Golden, but more often than not, to send the tendrils of Sight out across the Isle; searching for the mind of someone she had never met, but felt like she knew.
I’m bored. What’s Malachi doing?
Phantom’s thought pulled at the edges of her consciousness, dragging her mind back to the stifling warmth of the Meeting Room and the drone of voices. Despite the fact that it was June, a fire was blazing on the far side of the room and Mistral was amused to see the two Mages sat nearest to it sweating profusely.
The Seer Page 70
