The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Saul.’ Fabian said softly, his velvet stare never leaving Mistral’s.

  Leo nodded and announced in a clear voice, ‘Cassius Saul De Winter.’

  ‘And now the empty one is filled,’ said Cain quietly.

  One Year Later ...

  ‘They’re coming on.’

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment from my Training Captain.’ Mistral muttered while she gazed critically at the first year apprentices drilling under Samson’s watchful gaze.

  ‘You should.’ Fabian smiled lazily at her and turned to lean back against the Arena fence. ‘You and Samson are probably the best Training Lieutenants the Ri has ever known.’

  ‘No,’ she corrected him with a smile. ‘You were.’

  Fabian laughed, ‘I think you may have been a little biased.’

  ‘Still am,’ she murmured, giving him a lingering look.

  ‘Look mother! Uncle Xerxes has bought me a pony!’

  ‘Oh not another one! We’ll have a herd of damned ponies before long!’ Mistral groaned, turning to watch her son running towards them with a glossy Emerald Forest pony trotting along beside him. ‘He’s lovely Cassius!’ Mistral said with a forced grin before fixing Xerxes with a glare over the top of her son’s head. ‘What’s he called?’

  ‘Goblin!’

  Mistral laughed at Xerxes’ shameless grin.

  ‘He’s a fine pony Cassius.’ Fabian smiled and ruffled his son’s hair affectionately. ‘We’ll go riding later if you want … maybe take Prospero and hunt some rabbits.’

  Cassius smiled eagerly up at his father, ‘Can the twins come too? And Samson, and my uncles?’

  Fabian laughed, ‘Yes, we’ll all go out, just as soon as I get back,’ leaning over he kissed Mistral lightly. ‘I won’t be too long.’

  ‘Where are you going again?’ Mistral asked with a distracted frown, looking over at the apprentices once more.

  ‘To see the stonemason in the village, I think we need to have another room built onto our mountain house for Cassius.’

  ‘Oh!’ Mistral turned and looked at him, smiling shyly. ‘Make it two rooms.’

  Fabian’s eyes widened then a slow grin spread across his face, ‘Really?’

  ‘Really?’ Xerxes echoed, his hand reaching automatically for the top pocket of his jerkin.