The Seer (65 page)

Read The Seer Online

Authors: Kirsten Jones

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: The Seer
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‘And does my
level of horsemanship usually reduce you to floods of tears?’

‘Oh no, just,
you know,’ she cast around wildly for a plausible excuse for her display of
waterworks.  ‘It’s a bit er, strange, being with Imperato –’

Fabian’s expression
was instantly understanding, making Mistral cry again for deceiving him, ‘Do
you want me to tell Gleacher you are not well enough to continue?’ He offered
gently.

‘No
chance!  Er, I mean no thanks!  I wouldn’t want to miss this for the
world,’ she said quickly, catching Phantasm’s sharp look over Fabian’s shoulder
while he held her.

To her relief
a sudden flurry of activity in the village square diverted the attention away
from her mildly hysterical behaviour.  Mage Grapple and his small entourage
were arriving.  He dismounted and led his horse into the stableyard,
returning almost immediately to the square with the obvious intention of
watching the rest of the tournament.

‘Good move or
not?’  Phantom murmured to his brother.

‘Good.’
 Phantasm responded firmly.  ‘Shows he’s interested in the ways of
the Ri.’

‘He could
probably outride quite a few of the warriors here today.’  Samson
commented, hauling his mare to an unwilling halt beside them.

‘How’d she do
Samson?’  Mistral asked, making an effort to return to her normal self.

‘How do you
think?’  He grinned.  ‘We won our group of course!  Who was
highest in yours?’

‘Er –’ Mistral
had stormed away from her table without even looking at the times.  ‘I
don’t know, I suppose I should go and check –’

‘No need
Mistral.  Although I do need to verify the results I would prefer it if
you stayed with them until I arrived.’  Gleacher strode over with a stack
of parchment grasped in his hand, looking at her disapprovingly.

‘Sorry Master
Shacklock.’  Mistral pulled an apologetic face.  ‘Something came up.’

‘Duty first
Mistral, everything else second.’

‘Yes, of
course,’ she hid a grin as Phantom mimicked Gleacher’s teacherish expression
behind his back.

‘Now please
take these to Master Sphinx.  He will need to announce the successful
twelve going through to the second round.’

Mistral took
the sheaf of parchments from him; her feet moving automatically towards where
Leo was stood talking with Mage Grapple and Imperato while her eyes scanned the
list of times written in her untidy scrawl.  She swore violently when she
noted that Erin’s time was the third fastest on the sheet, marginally behind
Cain’s.  The only grain of comfort was that Fabian’s time had been the
fastest.

‘The times
from our group,’ she said abruptly, handing the parchments to Leo.

He barely
glanced at her while he took them and continued his conversation with Mage
Grapple, but Imperato missed nothing, noting her downcast eyes he frowned in
concern.

‘Is something
wrong my daughter?’

‘No, no,
nothing!  Can I go now?’  She asked Leo quickly.  He nodded
disinterestedly and she hurried away, feeling Imperato’s penetrating gaze
boring into her back as she practically ran back to the reassuring safety of
Fabian, while she still could.

The warriors
regrouped in the village square to hear Leo announce the results of the first
event.  He remounted his grey stallion and rode to the centre of the
square where a respectful space had been left for him.  Leading Spirit by
his side Fabian walked hand-in-hand with Mistral to stand with Samson and the
twins at the edge of the packed square. 

‘Warriors! 
I am proud to have witnessed a fine display of skill in both riding and
marksmanship today.  However, there are only twelve spaces in the next
event and they can only be taken by those that rode with the fastest time and
shot with the greatest accuracy.  I commend you all for taking part and
invite the following competitors to continue.’

An expectant
hush fell while Leo paused and looked down at the piece of parchment in his
hand.  Phantom rolled his eyes and Mistral smiled at his unspoken thought

Drama queen

They both knew
that Leo would have memorised the names of the successful competitors on first
sight and not need to read them out at all, he was just stalling for effect.

‘Fabian De
Winter, Cain, Erin, Samson, Brutus, Xerxes, Sebastian – ’

Mistral
listened to the list of names with a growing sense of pride that even the lurch
that Erin’s name caused her couldn’t dispel.  Her husband, Samson and
three of her brothers were in the second event …

‘ – Jareth,
Remir, Jasper and Gray!  Please make your way to the Training Arena for
the second event!’

‘Follow me
please Mistral.’

Mistral sighed
in response to Gleacher’s brusque summons and let go of Fabian’s hand.  He
didn’t relinquish his grasp but pulled her closer, bending his head to murmur
in her ear.

‘Come on
Mistral!’  Phantom muttered, tapping his foot impatiently until Fabian
finally released her and mounted, riding off with Samson towards the Arena and
leaving her smiling vacantly after him.  Grabbing her by the hand, Phantom
dragged her along by his side while he strode after Gleacher.  ‘I don’t
know why he insists on completely turning what little brains you’ve got to
marshmallow mere seconds before they’re meant to be used!  Why didn’t he
just think whatever he was saying to you and let you read him from a safe
distance?  You know how stupid you go whenever he gets hold of you!’

Mistral smiled
dreamily, ‘Fabian’s old-fashioned.  He likes to tell me … things.’

Without
breaking stride Phantom turned to give her a sharp look, ‘Well whatever
things
they were, please forget them for the next hour because you need to
concentrate.  In fact, I think I’ll ask Gleacher if my brother and I can
stay and help.’

‘Where is Phantasm
anyway?’  Mistral asked, noticing for the first time that he was missing.

‘Returning our
horses to the stables, since they are now surplus to requirements.’ 

‘Oh, yes,
sorry you didn’t get through.’

‘Don’t be, I’m
not.’  Phantom stated flatly.  ‘I can’t stand those jumped-up
ponies!  Anyway, we wouldn’t be able to go; we’ve got meetings with Mage
Grapple all next week.’

Mistral felt
the pleasant daydream she had been floating along in pop at Phantom’s words,
‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she sighed. 

‘My pleasure,
now please try not to get mud on that velvet cloak.  My brother’s already
fuming that you were using the sleeves as a handkerchief earlier.’

Mistral
concentrated on not slipping over while they picked their way carefully around
the side of the puddle-strewn Arena to the table where Gleacher was already
waiting, talking quietly with Imperato.

‘Ah,
finally.  Mistral, please take your seat.  Phantom?  Is there
something you wish to speak with me about?’

‘Yes Master
Shacklock, my brother and I wish to offer our assistance.’

‘Good.’
 Gleacher responded promptly, but before Phantom could settle himself into
one of the chairs he continued in a sharp tone.  ‘We require someone to
release a knucker for each competitor then remove the body once the task has
been completed.  You and your brother can wait by the edge of the Arena
and fulfil that role.’

Mistral
watched the smug look sliding off Phantom’s face.  For a split-second she
thought he might actually refuse, but he quickly recovered.  ‘Of course, Master
Shacklock.’  Phantom murmured then began trudging back across the muddy
Arena to break the good news to his twin. 

‘I require you
to keep time again please Mistral.  I will score the rounding ability and
accuracy of the shooting.’

Mistral nodded
and glanced at the clock before letting her gaze rest of the list of
names.  Twelve names, most of which she knew, one of which she never
wanted to see ever again in her life, unless it was her signature accepting a
lifetime Contract in Outer Mongolia.

Erin …

Mistral
scowled darkly at the tiny warrior, now flirting outrageously with Xerxes while
they lined up ready to listen to Leo outline the rules for the second
event.  Xerxes was doing his best to ignore her; Marietta was amongst the
crowd of villagers watching in the square and Mistral could see from the flinty
look on her face that she was less than pleased by Erin’s behaviour.

Leo rode into
the Arena at a canter, pulling his powerful horse to halt in a showy half-rear
in the centre and startling the already nervous looking group of horses milling
around in the top corner.  While Leo turned and prepared to deliver one of
his trademark rousing speeches, Mistral studied the horses that were to be
herded.  They were unbroken yearlings, unused to being handled. 
Rounding and herding them would be a difficult task.

A corral had
been erected on the opposite side of the Arena; its gate closed.  Mistral
could see a small target sticking up from the gate’s latch.  It was
designed so that the impact of a crossbow bolt striking the centre would
release the latch and let the gate swing open.  Just beyond the corral the
twins were stood beside a large metal cage full of knuckers.  Mistral
watched the slimy green creatures slithering over each other, seeking to escape
the confines of their cage and felt a burst of pity for the twins.  It was
going to be a dirty job. 

‘Welcome to
the second event!  A test of dexterity and horsemanship that requires you
to shoot the target on the gate to open it and drive a herd of four horses into
the corral –’

‘Easy!’ 
One of the competitors exclaimed confidently.

Leo paused and
smiled humourlessly at the warrior before he continued, ‘– but only after you
have dispatched the knucker that will be released to guard the gate!’

The warriors face
fell comically and a roar of laughter went up from the crowd.  Mistral
spotted Malachi in amongst the crowd; his face was twisted into a sneering mask
of disdain.  He had a small group of warriors gathered around him all
wearing similar expressions; the Malachi Nox fan club. 

‘Only the six
fastest and successful warriors will go through to the final event!  Now
all that remains before we begin is for me to remind you of the rules: do not
dismount at any point during your event and ride to the best of your ability!’

A resounding
cheer that went up from the crowd gathered all around the Training Arena
fence. 

‘Imperato –’

Mistral heard
a voice speaking to Imperato, barely audible over the chorus of applause that greeted
Xerxes cantering towards the table, obviously desperate to get away from Erin
before Marietta vaulted the fence and attacked her.  Turning her head to
see who had spoken Mistral was surprised to see Mage Grapple, his already
disfigured face creasing into deeper lines of concentration while he listened
to Imperato’s response to his question.

‘Focus please
Mistral!’  Gleacher snapped, recalling her sharply to her duties.  ‘I
will be on the far side of the Arena to verify the knucker kills.  Now,
can I trust you to manage the time-keeping accurately?’

‘Yes Master
Shacklock.’  Mistral responded obediently and rested a hand ready over the
start button on the clock as Xerxes rode up to the table, looking unusually
discomfited.

‘You will
not
believe what she just said to me!’

‘I think I
would.’  Mistral muttered and glared daggers at Erin, now grinning
impishly at Brutus.  Switching her gaze back to Xerxes, she frowned at his
flustered state.  ‘Just try and hold it together brother!  She’s
doing it on purpose to put you off!  Now for crying out loud get those
damned horses in the corral in a fast time or I may be joining Marietta in
murdering that two-foot trollop!’

Xerxes laughed
and drew in a steadying breath, ‘Right then.  Let’s do the formalities.’

‘When the
whistle blows the event begins, it’s only over when the horses are all in the
corral and the gate’s closed, oh, and kill the knucker.  Got it?’

Xerxes nodded
and Mistral gave a short blast on her whistle, watching him cantering off
towards the group of horses before she scowled over at Erin again.

The twins
released one knucker, not without some difficulty, for as soon as the cage door
was opened all the knuckers swarmed forwards and tried to ram their long snouts
through the gap.  Finally Phantasm managed to drag just one out by the
heavy leather collar placed around each one’s neck.  With a look of
revulsion on his face, he hauled the creature across the Arena and left it
blinking confusedly in front of the corral gate.

If Erin had
planned to unsettle Xerxes with whatever brazen suggestion she’d made then her
plan worked beautifully.  Xerxes approached the wary horses too quickly
and startled them.  They separated and scattered across the Arena, forcing
him to round them up before he could begin driving them towards the corral,
taking up valuable time.  Mistral watched the time ticking past on the
clock with growing agitation; it was taking far too long for Xerxes to regroup
the horses.  In the end the yearlings proved completely unmanageable and
Xerxes shot the knucker out of pure frustration before retiring from the event,
red-faced and sweating.  He galloped past Mistral without even looking at
her, leaving her glaring furiously at his brother instead. 

‘Tell me that
tart hasn’t had the same disastrous effect on you!’  Mistral hissed to
Brutus when he approached the table at a sedate walk.

‘No chance,’
he grinned. 

‘Good.’
 Mistral looked slightly mollified and placed the whistle to her lips.

Brutus
immediately shot the newly released knucker and fired again to release the
gate.  With the corral prepared, he then turned his attention to herding
the horses, now gathered together in a nervous huddle at the far end of the
Arena.  Riding at nothing faster than a trot, Brutus circled around them
in a wide loop, gradually tightening up on one side to push them towards the
corral, then riding out wide again so that he was performing an ellipse around
them.  His careful herding seemed to be working, Mistral held her breath
while she watched the four horses skitter nervously towards the open gate every
time Brutus made a pass.  Closer and closer they drew until Brutus hit an
unforeseen problem.  The dead knucker lay almost directly in front of the
open gate and the herd repeatedly shied away from body, forcing him to
continually drive them back towards the entrance and encourage them to jump
over.

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