The Seer (78 page)

Mistral gave
him a disparaging look, ‘Afraid of a fight brother?’

Phantasm
ignored her and continued to address Fabian and Samson, ‘Bellicose La Monte’s
tribe have been hunting freely in the Council stronghold for the last month,
but they’ve been very careful to clear up after themselves.  Mage Grapple
has no evidence of their activities other than the thoughts Mistral has read
for him in Bellicose’s mind, or he would have acted by now.’

‘Didn’t he
believe me?  Mistral demanded heatedly.

‘It’s not a
case of Mage Grapple believing you Mistral, but of Mage Grapple convincing the
other Councillors to act against the vampire tribe based on the word of an
unproven Seer who is, by her own admission, given to slightly reckless and
irrational acts.’

‘Oh right! 
So now I’m a liar
and
I’m irrational?  Next time he wants me to
read someone he can go –’ 

‘Please, let
Phantasm finish Mistral.’  Fabian murmured, holding a hand out to halt
her.  She continued to glower at Phantasm but instantly fell silent.

‘If we present
Mage Grapple with the information Mistral has gleaned from both Master Nox’s
and Bellicose La Monte’s thoughts we could request that he send a small army of
warlocks to the Valley.  I am certain that he will comply since it won’t
involve a Council decision.  Mage Grapple won’t be challenging the vampire
tribe directly, merely providing protection to the Isle’s Seer.’

‘Surely you
can see how unacceptable that would be to the Ri!’  Samson exclaimed.

Phantasm shrugged,
‘I admit that most warriors consider pride an emotion worth dying for and
wouldn’t willingly accept the presence of warlocks in the sanctuary of the Ri
Valley, but we could request Mage Grapple to instruct the warlocks to wait in
the meadows and deal with the vampire tribe from there.’

‘No.’

Fabian’s curt
response was all Mistral had been waiting for.  She marched over to Cirrus
and pulled herself into the saddle.  ‘Then allow me to suggest an easterly
route into the mountains,’ she began, kicking Cirrus into a brisk trot and
passing Samson to take the lead.

‘Your call
brother.’  Samson raised an eyebrow at Fabian.

Fabian stared
after Mistral, now cantering lightly up the path leading into the mountains
followed by Prospero, ‘She can take us there, but she will not fight.’

Samson pulled
his mare around and kicked her after Mistral, swiftly followed by the other
warriors leaving Phantasm alone with Fabian. 

Fabian turned
to walk over to collect Spirit but Phantasm reached out a hand and stopped him,
‘Permit me to ask, Mage De Winter, why you were so quick to refute my
suggestion?’  he asked quietly.  ‘I can see how little you want
Mistral to accompany us on this journey, and to my mind the solution I
presented would have solved all issues.  We could return to the Valley
with an army of warlocks –’

‘And make Leo
look impotent!  He is the Divinus now Phantasm, not you or I!  A
decision that involves the Valley is his alone to make!  Half of the
warriors in the Ri already believe he is a spy for the Council; sending in Mage
Grapple’s personal army of warlocks would only serve to convince the other half
of that too!’

‘I can see how
the presence of warlocks could be misconstrued to mean that Master Sphinx has
links to the Council but –’

‘No
Phantasm!  Do not mention this to me again!  This is a Ri matter and
it will be dealt with by Ri warriors!’  Fabian broke away from Phantasm’s
grip and mounted Spirit, galloping her after the vanishing warriors without
another word.

They trekked
east into the barren mountains, winding single file up the narrow path Mistral
had seen through Fabian’s eyes the day before.  She took the lead with the
warriors riding in virtual silence behind.  Fabian rode by her side,
taking Cirrus’s reins whenever he noticed her eyes slide out of focus and into
the mind of Bellicose La Monte.  He hadn’t mentioned their argument since
leaving the camp and only spoke to her each time she left her trance to
politely enquire what she had Seen.  Mistral found the forced civility
more distressing than a thousand shouted arguments.  She stole
surreptitious glances at him out of the corner of her eye, hoping to see the
hard lines around his mouth soften, but they never did.  On impulse she
cast aside her obsessive reading of Bellicose and listened instead to
Fabian.  The resulting flood of tormented thoughts startled her; he was
not angry, but anguished.  And as usual it was because of her, always
because of her.

With a short
sigh she withdrew her mind from his.  The ache of separation she’d felt
was nothing compared to the torture she was inflicting on Fabian by following
him.  Her selfishness had only served to fuel his already innate
compulsion to protect her at any cost.  She glanced at his face
again.  His expression remained cold and hard, so close to anger that it
was almost completely indistinguishable from the anxiety he was truly
feeling.  She frowned suddenly; was she so used to reading auras and minds
that she could no longer tell the subtle differences in facial
expressions?  With a stab of panic Mistral realised that she’d spent all
of the last three days in minds other than her own ... was she starting to
become detached from reality like the last Divinus?  Mistral immediately
looked over her shoulder at the twins.  They refused to meet her eyes but
she didn’t care, it wasn’t eye contact she wanted.  Denying the auras that
sprang obediently into view Mistral studied their faces instead.  They
wore identical expressions of composed neutrality, but their carefully
concealed anger was apparent in the hard set of their mouths and the slight
crease between their eyebrows.  Allowing herself a quick glance at their
auras Mistral sighed in relief to see vibrant reds and purples confirming her
interpretation.  She wasn’t losing touch with reality; just with her
husband.

Turning back
to Fabian she stared openly at the profile of his face, tilting her head
slightly to scrutinize his expression.  He was extremely hard to read
without the added insight of being able to see both his aura and hear his thoughts. 
How would she stand a chance of ever knowing what was going through his mind
without the help of her gift?  She realised grimly that she would probably
spend her entire life either asking him what he was thinking, which would no
doubt quickly become very tedious, or else be eternally confounded by his
inscrutable expression.  He suddenly turned to meet her gaze.  Caught
off guard Mistral stared back into their midnight depths and smiled.  The
windows of his soul; they could never hide anything from her.

‘I’m so
sorry,’ she whispered and reached over to slip her cold hand into his.  ‘I
just couldn’t stand being apart from you again so soon.’

Fabian said
nothing but his eyes moved slowly over her face, as though trying to commit
every detail to lasting memory.  Raising her hand to his lips he closed
his eyes and gently kissed the skin of her palm.  His fingers briefly
caressed the band of gold on her third finger before he released his
hold.  Mistral instantly dropped her reins and reached over to kiss him,
pulling her fingers through his dark hair to draw him closer, heedless to the
exasperated sighs of the twins.

‘Looks like
they’ve made up then.’  Xerxes said cheerfully to his brother.

Brutus looked
up and laughed at the sight of Mistral almost falling out of the saddle while
she leaned over to embrace Fabian, ‘Knew she’d get round him eventually.’

Samson called
a halt at midday to rest the horses and eat.  They dismounted and tethered
the horses to pick at the low growing shrubs clinging to the rocks at the side
of the path.  Grateful for the opportunity to stretch her legs and also
tend to the annoyingly frequent matter of needing to answer the call of nature,
Mistral returned to find the warriors sat together on the sun-warmed rocks
sharing a meal.  She sat down next to Fabian, taking the food he offered
her and listening to their talk while she ate.  Darius, one of Samson’s
companions was speaking. 

‘Fifteen you
say?’

‘Adult males
from the description Mistral gave.’  Fabian confirmed. 

‘Where were they
hunting?’  Samson asked Mistral.

When she
hesitated Samson made an impatient noise, ‘Oh come on Mistral!  You can
give up on the blackmail act now!  You’re here aren’t you?’

‘No, Samson,
it’s not that.’  Mistral drew in a deep breath and looked at Xerxes and
Brutus.  ‘I’m sorry brothers.’

There was a
moment’s frozen silence. 

‘No!’ 
Xerxes immediately to his feet and reached for his sword.

Brutus was
ashen-faced, ‘Who did you See Mistral?’ 

‘Elves from
your village, but they weren’t in the village itself.’

Brutus closed
his eyes briefly.

‘And I can’t
say for certain, but I don’t think I Saw Castor either.’

‘What were
they wearing?’  Brutus asked quickly.

‘Some kind of
linen shirt, loose … I – I think it might have been white,’ she didn’t want to say
that their apparel had been so blood-soaked that the original colours were
unidentifiable.  ‘And sort of tan coloured trousers –’

‘The
herders.’  Xerxes said heavily.  ‘They’d be returning from driving
the flocks up to the higher pastures –’

‘Where were
they?’  Brutus cut across his brother sharply.

‘A narrow
gorge, like the ones we climbed up through on the Cull.  There was a
really high peak of rock right at the top with a hole through it … it looked a
bit like a needle.’

‘The Eye of
the Needle.’  Brutus said quietly.  ‘I know it.’

‘Where does it
lie from here?’  Samson demanded sharply.

Xerxes
indicated towards the east with his drawn sword, ‘A day’s ride.’

‘Are they
still there Mistral?’  Samson asked.

Her eyes
instantly became vague as she slid back into the mind of Bellicose La Monte,
‘They are satiated … travelling now … eager for the journey to the Valley … to
sweep aside the obstacles that hinder their new brother’s path to victory –’

‘Are they on
horseback?’  Fabian asked her quietly.

Mistral shook
her head, ‘They are running … on all fours … they move like gargoyles … they
are not robed, it is easy to clean after a hunt that way– ’

Xerxes let out
an angry growl.

‘What of the
landscape Mistral?  Where are they now?’  Fabian asked quickly. 

She frowned,
her eyes roved blankly over her surroundings, seeing not the grazing horses or
her brothers but the hard ground passing beneath Bellicose La Monte’s running
body, ‘Shadows … it is darker where they are … cold … the sun cannot not reach
so far into this gorge … I can smell … water … the rocks are strange … gold and
red … like velvet –’

‘Lichen!’ 
Brutus exclaimed suddenly and turned to Xerxes.  ‘We know that place!
 It’s the gorge with the waterfall running down through it!’

‘Where is
it?’  Samson demanded, looking at Brutus urgently.

‘North east
from here.  They’re heading home.’ 

‘The tribe
calls … they have food for them.’  Mistral continued in a lifeless
voice.  ‘The females have young to feed … the old way –’

‘I swear I
will kill every single one of those bloodsucking sons of bitches!’ 

‘We all will
Xerxes, but just listen for now.’  Cain laid a restraining hand on his
arm.

‘Bellicose is
proud of his son … his first hunt was a success –’

‘Enough,’
Fabian said and took hold of Mistral’s hands.  ‘Come back to me now.’

While Mistral
took a long drink of water Samson questioned Xerxes and Brutus more closely
about the location of the gorge the vampires were passing through.

‘It is not
that far away.  In fact it’s lucky that Mistral delayed our start this
morning or we may even have unintentionally crossed paths with them.’
 Brutus said and turned to Fabian.  ‘Have you got that map?’

While Fabian
retrieved the map from his saddlebag Phantasm knelt down beside Mistral and
looked into her vacant eyes, ‘Are you alright?’

Mistral closed
her eyes and pressed a hand to her aching temples, ‘Talking to me now are you
brother?’

‘Oh come on
Mistral!  You know I only get so damned angry with you because I care!’

Mistral sighed
wearily, ‘Your godson is fine Phantasm, so you can stop worrying.’

‘I actually
care about his mother too,’ he said more gently.

Mistral opened
her eyes to meet his emerald gaze and couldn’t resist the fond smile that crept
onto her lips, ‘I’m alright too, although - and I never thought I’d say this, I
am getting fed up with the sight of blood.’

‘Sorry, but I
think we might be seeing a bit more of that tomorrow.’

‘As long as
it’s not ours.’  Mistral replied darkly.

Fabian
returned and spread the map out on the ground at their feet.  The warriors
gathered around as Brutus pressed a finger down onto their location then traced
a short line to a red dot on the map: the region inhabited by the vampire
tribe.

‘Less than
half a day.’  Samson muttered.  ‘We need to camp for the night away
from any established paths then move before first light to position ourselves
to attack.  Mistral can tell us which way they will be travelling.’

‘You plan to
ambush them?’ 

‘Ideally.’
 Samson’s eyes narrowed.  ‘But let’s be realistic.  We’re
dealing with vampires.  They’re going to have smelt us before we’ve even
caught sight of them.’

‘Maybe not.’
 Mistral interrupted quietly.  ‘When they’re … full … their senses
are dulled.  It’s only when they’re hungry that their senses sharpen.’

‘Good. 
Then we shall find a suitable place to camp around here –’ Samson prodded the
map with a dirty finger and rose to his feet decisively.  ‘Mount up
warriors; we can plan the battle when we make camp.’