The Seer (35 page)

Mistral laughed.  There were many
similarities between Xerxes and a charging bull, and none of them
complimentary. 

The ride back to the Council passed by in a
drunken haze for the warriors but for Mistral it was filled with exhilaration
at being out in the open air again.  Much as she’d enjoyed the chance to
spend time alone with Fabian, she was more than ready to escape the confines of
the tiny mountain settlement.  The horses were skittish and irritable from
being stabled for so long; Spirit tried to throw Fabian several times and
Cirrus was impatient to let off steam, pulling strongly and trying to bolt at
every opportunity.  They arrived at the Council in ill humour, with the
twins clutching their heads and everyone wearing pained expressions.  

‘Tavern.’  Xerxes declared shortly,
dismounting and throwing his reins bad-temperedly to the young stablehand that
scurried towards him.

Brutus, Cain and the twins made noises of
agreement and dismounted stiffly, their muscles unused to riding after a long
break.   Grendel stomped past looking smug.  Having no horse to
battle with, he was in slightly better shape than the others.

‘We need to see Eximius.’  Fabian said
quietly and swung himself down from the saddle.

Mistral nodded and handed her reins to a
frightened looking stablehand, ‘He’s a bit grumpy today,’ she said over her
shoulder and hid a smile at the boy’s responding look of terror.  ‘And
could you feed my dog please?  He’s only had a dragon bone today and he’s
still hungry.’

Taking Fabian’s hand, Mistral walked beside him up
the steps to the Council building.  She was already so familiar with the
huge white marble atrium that the grandeur barely registered.  Mistral
could hear Fabian’s thoughts growing in tension with every step they
took.  She sighed, she’d grown used to her Mage’s thoughts only being full
of her and it was an unpleasant shock to hear him think of other, darker
matters once again.

He halted in front of one of the many featureless
doors set in the back wall of the atrium and rapped smartly on the polished
black wood.   There was a brief silence before footsteps sounded from
the other side and it was opened by the same
stern looking woman Mistral
had met at Mage Grapple’s house.

‘I need to see
Eximius on an urgent matter.  It cannot wait.’  Fabian snapped
without preamble.

She raised an
eyebrow coldly but said nothing and opened the door wider to admit both Fabian
and Mistral into the austere surroundings of a waiting room, furnished with the
same lack of attention to comfort that Mistral recognised from Mage Grapple’s
house.

‘I shall
inform him of your request.’  The woman swept from the room, vanishing
through yet another black panelled door into what Mistral could only assume was
Mage Grapple’s private office.

‘Is she his
housekeeper or his secretary?’  Mistral whispered.

‘Both.’
 Fabian replied in a low voice.  ‘Eximius trusts few people and likes
to utilise those he does fully.’

Mistral
thought for a moment, ‘Is she –?’

‘No.’ Fabian
cut her off sharply.  ‘Eximius does not have a lover.’

Mistral
winced.  As usual she had stuck her foot right in it.  Fabian’s
mother had been lovers with Eximius; Leo was their child.  She closed her
eyes and cursed herself for her insensitivity.  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered.

Fabian
squeezed her hand, letting her know that he understood.  The door suddenly
opened and the secretary returned, motioning wordlessly for them to enter into
Mage Grapple’s office.

‘Do you want
me to wait here?’  Mistral asked, hanging back as Fabian strode forwards.

‘No.’

Fabian dragged
her firmly into the private domain of the Head of the Mage Council and turned
to shut the door behind them, leaving her staring wordlessly into the heavily
scarred features of Mage Grapple.

'Lady De
Winter,’ he greeted her politely then turned to Fabian.  ‘Where is my
consort?’

Mistral
started.  Powers and Silver.  She’d forgotten all about having to
explain to Mage Grapple that his two Councillors were –

‘Dead.’

Mage Grapple
regarded Fabian steadily, ‘I see.  Please explain.’

‘I killed
Powers.’

There was a
short silence.

‘And Silver?’

‘He fell.’

There was a
short silence.

‘And why did
you kill Powers?’  Mage Grapple finally asked in a cold voice.

‘Because he
conspired to kill Mistral and one of the Gemini.’  Fabian replied in
equally icy tones.  ‘He was a Rochforte!  A fact that you should have
been aware of before electing to send him as one of our consort!’

Mage Grapple
raised a scarred eyebrow, ‘Was he really?’  He said softly. 

Fabian glared
at him, the silence seemed to deepen to become almost tangible.  Mistral
shifted uncomfortably and wished she were outside with the sour-faced
secretary.

‘I think you
owe my wife an apology!’  Fabian finally hissed.

Mage Grapple
stared at him emotionlessly before turning his unsettling grey stare to
Mistral, ‘Lady De Winter, I apologise unreservedly for inadvertently placing
you in danger.  My oversight was inexcusable.  I can only hope that
you find it within your generous nature to forgive me.’

Mistral
clenched her teeth to prevent her jaw from dropping and stared at Mage
Grapple.  Was he mocking her?  His cold grey eyes were devoid of any
humour, or any emotion.  She was left to assume that he was being
sincere.  ‘Er, it’s fine, really.  He didn’t do me any harm in the
end.  In fact, he was the one that came off the worst … well, both of them
actually.  Sorry you’ve lost half a department.’

Mage Grapple
abruptly let out a harsh bark of laughter.

Mistral gave
Fabian an uncertain look.  Mage Grapple seemed to laugh at her quite a
lot. 

Fabian
appeared to share her thoughts because he narrowed his eyes and demanded in a
glacial voice, ‘Do you find my wife amusing Eximius?’

‘Charmingly
so, De Winter, and that is in addition to the already considerable esteem with
which I hold her.’  Mage Grapple turned to look at Mistral again, fixing
her with his mismatched eyes.  ‘Truly, you are unique, Lady De
Winter.  I am honoured to have existed within your lifetime.  Please
forgive my oversight with Powers and Silver; I assure you I would not have
intentionally placed a life as valuable as yours in danger.  I shall
endeavour to redeem myself in your eyes with all due haste.’

Mistral
blinked at him and could think of nothing to say, other than – ‘Bellicose La
Monte’s tribe are growing restless.  They’ve just eaten an entire village
of elves and Bellicose covets your position as Head of the Council.’ 
Mistral’s words tumbled out in a hectic rush.  She drew in a breath and
waited for Mage Grapple to demand that she repeat herself more slowly.

Mage Grapple
regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment then nodded, ‘I thank you for the
information.  It is not totally unexpected, however now I have confirmation
of my suspicions I can prepare accordingly.  It appears that I am
twice-placed in your debt today, Lady De Winter, and have only one small act of
hospitality to offer you as recompense for the inconvenience you have endured.’

Mistral gave
him a guarded look and fervently hoped he wasn’t about to offer her money.

‘Permit me to
shorten your journey home.  It is cold, a winter such as this has not been
seen on the Isle for many years and my mind would be considerably eased to know
that the Isle’s only Seer were safely returned to her destination and not
camping out overnight in freezing conditions.’

Mistral stared
at him, ‘You mean, use the Craft to speed up our journey home?’

He nodded and
waited impassively for her response.

‘Er, thanks,
but n –’

‘Yes, that
will be perfectly acceptable.  We will be ready to leave within the
hour.  I shall see myself out Eximius.’  Fabian abruptly turned on
his heel and strode out of the room, dragging Mistral with him.

‘What did you
accept his offer for?’  She demanded in a low voice the moment they were
out of the secretary’s office.  ‘You hate the Craft!’

‘But I love
you!’  Fabian spun around, his dark eyes meeting hers with a breathtaking
intensity.  ‘And the sooner you are in the Infirmary and we find out what
is ailing you then the happier I shall be.’

Mistral paused
while she decided whether or not to lie, but her face had already betrayed her
guilt.

‘Oh I know,’
he murmured softly.  ‘Every time you dashed away from the table at
Diannah’s!  Did you think I wouldn’t realise you were being ill again?’

Mistral
dropped her gaze from his, ‘I didn’t want to worry you,’ she mumbled.  ‘I
feel fine … most of the time.’

‘But that is
not good enough for me Mistral; I want you to feel fine all of the time.’

She looked up
to meet his deep gaze and nodded resignedly, ‘Fine, travel by magic carpet it
is then.’

He gave her a
tight smile, ‘Nothing quite so romantic I assure you, but we will be back in
the Valley by nightfall.  I am sure your brothers will appreciate their
own beds tonight and not a night spent shivering in the snow on the High
Moors.’

‘I don’t think
they’re going to feel anything by the time we drag them out of the tavern,’ she
sighed.

‘I hope for
their sakes they haven’t drunk too much, travelling under and Expediency can be
disorientating at the best of times.’

Mistral
frowned, struck by a sudden memory, ‘Will it be the same spell I saw being used
on St Martine’s army back in The Desert Lands?’

Fabian nodded,
‘Yes.  Speed is determined depending on the power of the Mage casting the
spell.  The more powerful the Mage, the faster the recipient of the spell
can travel.’

‘Mage Grapple
cast that one?’  Mistral asked, remembering how effortlessly the foot
soldiers had kept pace with the galloping horses.

Fabian nodded
again and pulled her on towards the doors leading out of the Council atrium,
his face set in hard expression.  Mistral glanced at his expression but
was unable to resist voicing her curiosity.  They rarely discussed the
Craft, yet Fabian a powerful Mage by blood and must have been taught all about
the power that lived within him when he was growing up.

‘How does it
work?’

Fabian did not
break stride or look at her while he replied, ‘A single person is the recipient
of the spell.  They set the pace.  It will be me for the purpose of
this journey.  Whatever speed I travel at the spell will match my pace
multiplied by the power of Mage who cast.  Mage Grapple is capable is
casting an Expediency spell to the power of three.’

‘So we’ll get
home three times as fast?’  Mistral frowned.  It was a three day ride
back from the Council but Fabian had said they’d be back in the Valley by
nightfall.  She wasn’t brilliant with numbers, but even Mistral could see
that didn’t add up.

‘Not
quite.  With Expediency our three day ride will reduce to three hours.’

Mistral was
impressed but the disdainful look on Fabian’s face prevented her from saying as
much.  They strode through the wrought iron gates held open by two hooded
warlocks then Fabian abruptly pulled her to the right, down a narrow alleyway
she had never noticed.

‘Where are we
going?’

‘To fetch your
brothers from the tavern.’  Fabian replied shortly.  ‘If they can
still walk.’

Mistral
sighed.  Whenever Fabian referred to her brothers in that tone she knew he
was displeased with them.  Yes, they drank a bit, and liked to gamble, and
maybe they were a touch loud and sometimes given to being impulsive … and those
were just their good points; but they were her brothers and she wouldn’t hear a
word said against them.  She risked a glance out of the corner of her eye
at Fabian’s stony expression.  For two weeks he’d been literally unable to
do anything but relax.  Even though she’d spent time each afternoon
relaying the thoughts of either Malachi or Bellicose to him, there had been
nothing new in them.  She, Fabian, and her brothers hadn’t been the only
ones unable to travel; the whole Isle had come to a standstill due to the heavy
snow falls.  And now, in the space of just one short hour, he had
compromised his lifelong abhorrence of the Craft and argued with Mage Grapple –
all because of her.  She sighed, reflecting that he was typically refusing
to blame her and deflecting his bad mood onto to her brothers. 

‘Fabian?’ 
Pulling back sharply Mistral resisted his grip and stood still, making him turn
to look at her.  ‘Please don’t take your bad mood out on my brothers.
 I know they’re hardly angels, but who is?  They all mean a lot to me
… until I met you they were my only family.’

Fabian frowned
at her for a moment longer then sighed and reached out for her.  She
slipped into his arms unhesitatingly, laying her head against his chest to
listen to his voice murmuring to her.

‘These last
two weeks have been the happiest of my life Mistral.  I never imagined I
could feel so much love, and be loved in return.  It literally astounds me
every time I wake up and see you lying next to me.’

His voice was
filled with a poignancy that puzzled her.  If he was happy, why did he
sound sad?  She tilted her head to meet his soulful gaze, listening to his
softly spoken words.

‘I have never
known such completeness,’ he continued quietly.  ‘And there lies the irony
of my fate.  Perhaps it is recompense for the life I have lived to have
found you just as we may lose everything –’

‘Lose everything? 
How?’

‘Troubled
times lie ahead Mistral.  The Isle has been held firm by Eximius for
decades, but his time will wane.  There is no other like him. 
Struggles like the one we are facing with Malachi and Bellicose; the Rochfortes
… they will come again and again until one of them is successful.’