The Seer (95 page)

‘Of course
it’s safe Samson!’  Mistral looked surprised.  ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

‘Er, well,’
Samson’s scarred features creased, ‘you were a touch ... annoyed ... with me
this morning.’  

‘Oh
that!’  Mistral waved a hand airily to convey that it was all
forgotten.  ‘I’m not angry with you Samson!  I know that Fabian’s
worried about Malachi making an attempt to abduct me from the Valley and wanted
to remove me from plain sight, and by getting Cain to give me work in his shop
I would be both out of sight and occupied … and I also know that he asked you
to be the stand-in Training Lieutenant – and please note the “stand-in” bit
Samson, since I
will
be having that job back once your godson’s here
–  just to give you an excuse to be in the Arena all day and keep an eye
out for Malachi’s arrival without looking suspicious, oh and also because you
want to continue trying to persuade Fabian to slip off in the middle of the
night, without me, on some covert mission to slit Malachi’s throat –’ Mistral
paused and drew in a long breath while Samson stared at her with his mouth
slightly agape.  ‘And, finally, there’s no need to worry about any of that
because we’re all going to the Council tomorrow morning!’ 

‘We
are?’  Samson blinked.

‘Oh, not
you!  You’re on teaching duty!  Leo’s been summoned to the Council to
argue his case and he wants me and the twins to go with him, for obvious
reasons, and Fabian because he wants to show the Council that he’s got the
prestigious name of De Winter on side, and also because Fabian’s damned handy
in a fight.’  Mistral paused to allow herself a small smile of
pride.  ‘Anyway, we’re leaving tomorrow, or rather, once Cain’s given his
approval for me to travel, which you will be doing Cain, so drink up! 
We’ve just got time to break the good news to the twins and for you to give me
the all clear before I whip up that Theriac for you!  Oh, and I really
mean it this time ... good luck with those first years Samson.’  Giving
him a look of commiseration, Mistral quickly pushed back her chair and strode
purposefully towards the door, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

‘I’m so
grateful she’s having a boy.’  Samson finally muttered.  ‘Could you
imagine two of her?’

‘Don’t count
your chickens Samson.’  Cain warned, draining the contents of his tankard
and rising to his feet to follow her.  ‘The next one might be a girl.’

‘You’re going
to have to watch her very closely.’  Cain stowed his medical kit away in
his saddlebag and dropped it onto the kitchen table of Fabian and Mistral’s
house.

‘What? 
Even more closely than we have been doing?’  Phantom argued.  ‘It’s
not possible!’

‘She’s an
Arcane … and they don’t come much more Arcane than centaurs!  She’ll get
restless when she draws close to her time.  It’ll be natural for her to
try and slip away quietly – we need to avoid that at all costs.’

‘Why?’ 
Phantom demanded.  ‘If she wants to go off and give birth alone in the
hayloft or something why should we stop her?  To be honest, I’m not really
looking forward to this next part!’

‘Have you any
idea how many women die giving birth to half-breeds?’  Cain asked
sharply.  ‘These are not normal birthing procedures we’re talking about
here!’

‘Oh, fine
then.’  Phantom muttered.  ‘But I seriously hope she goes into labour
when she’s at home with her Mage and not with us on this wretched Council
expedition!’

‘I disagree,’
said Cain quietly.  ‘I think an Infirmary would be the best place for her,
but obviously the one in the Valley would be more suitable.’

‘And kind of
fitting too, considering how much time she spent in there during her training.’

‘I think that
Mistral would rather die giving birth than suffer Serenity’s over-enthusiastic
assistance,’ said Phantasm.  ‘I have already broached the subject with her
and received a firmly negative response.’

Cain sighed,
‘I tried too, without any success.’

‘Lots of swear
words?’  Phantom asked.

‘Just a few.’

‘Ah, glad to
hear some things still haven’t changed with her then.’

‘Look – I’ve
got to work.’  Cain said a touch impatiently.  ‘The shop renovations
have hit my pocket hard, I’ve had to take a mercenary Contract to cover the
costs, but it should be over inside a four week time-frame, so I plan to be
back before the end of the month and I’m fairly sure that she’s going to carry
for ten months or I wouldn’t be going.  But I need you to be extra
vigilant!  She will get restless and probably start to become devious and
try to lie to you about where she’s going and what she’s doing.’

Phantom
snorted, ‘Then you’re worrying about nothing Cain, because we all know Mistral
can’t lie to save her life!’ 

‘All the same,
you need to double-check everything she tells you.’  Cain insisted. 

‘We will
brother, you have our word.’  Phantasm assured him.

Cain regarded
Phantasm thoughtfully for a moment, ‘Good, because I want a nephew in one
piece, and I have a sneaking suspicion she’s going to name him after Saul.’

Phantasm
smiled, ‘Yes, I get that feeling too.’

‘Not sure how
that will sit with Mage De Winter though,’ Phantom mused, ‘naming his son after
his love rival.’

‘Saul was
never a rival.’  Phantasm said reproachfully.  ‘He was blood-bound to
protect Mistral, he just never knew why and was confused by her not being the
standard centaur shape.’

‘Saul loved
Mistral and he died for her.’  Cain sighed quietly.  ‘And despite
that obvious flaw in his character, he was my brother and I miss him every
day.  If Mistral names her son after him, it will be the most fitting
tribute I can think of.’

‘Let it be so
brother,’ murmured Phantasm.  ‘But rest assured; you have our word that we
will watch her like hawks.’

‘Right, in
that case, we had better go through some basics,’ said Cain briskly, suddenly
professional again.

Phantom looked
suddenly worried, ‘What?’ 

‘You need to
know what to do –’

‘No, I don’t
think I do!’

‘Yes, we do,’
said Phantasm firmly.  ‘Tell us what we need to know Cain.’

‘Er, before
you begin and probably scar me for the rest of my life, please tell me that
Mage De Winter has been appraised of the same facts!’  Phantom asked quickly. 

‘Months ago.’
 Cain confirmed.

‘Good, because
I think that taking him through the details with regard to his wife’s birthing
procedure is more than my life is worth!’ 

In the small
bedroom upstairs Mistral sighed and gazed longingly out of the window at the
meadows beyond the boundaries of the Valley.  The forest edge was just
visible from the window, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon sun. 
The trees were starting to show the first signs of autumn with a few gold and
russet leaves flecking the sea of green oaks.  Mistral watched the tree
tops rippling bewitchingly in the light breeze and felt an irresistible desire
to smell the damp fallen leaves and hear them rustle beneath Cirrus’ cantering
hooves.  Throwing open the small window she leaned out, closing her eyes
and drawing in a deep breath of the warm air, rich with the scent of wet earth.

The sound of
the bedroom door opening quietly behind her made her turn to see Cain gazing at
her.

‘You’re not
going to jump are you?’  He asked with a smile.

‘No!’ 
She laughed and reached out to close the window.  ‘Just … smelling the
air.’

Cain regarded
her thoughtfully before stepping into the room and closing the door, ‘Listen
Mistral, I’ve got some work lined up –’

‘Yes, I know,
I’ve got Theriac to brew, sorry.  I got a bit distracted.’

‘No, you
misunderstand.  I’ve taken a mercenary Contract, well, quite a few of us
have actually.  It’s nothing that’ll keep me away for more than a few
weeks, just some pathetic squabble between two powerful landowners, but it’s
well paid and I need the money.’

‘And you’re
telling me because you want to make me jealous?’ 

‘No.’ Cain
smiled.  ‘I’m telling you because I think you might be getting close to
full-term and I want you to be prepared for me not to be there when you go into
labour.’

‘Oh!’ 
Mistral looked at him in surprise and then nodded quickly.  ‘Fine … that’s
fine, Cain, no problem.’

Cain narrowed
his eyes and studied her overly innocent expression, ‘You didn’t think you were
going to actually give birth without anyone there did you?’ 

‘Er –’

‘Oh for pity’s
sake Mistral!  Tell me you aren’t planning to sneak off and try and do
this alone!’

‘No, I wasn’t
thinking that.’  Mistral said honestly.

‘Right –’ Cain
said slowly, looking at her carefully again.  ‘So that tells me that you
haven’t even thought about giving birth at all have you?’

Mistral sighed
and rolled her eyes, ‘Oh, alright then I admit it!  No, I haven’t given
thought about giving birth!  I mean, just what is there to consider? 
The baby’s got to come out and … well, whether you’re there or not, it’ll just
happen!’

‘Not quite.’
 Cain frowned.  ‘Look, I need you to promise me that you won’t go
wandering off alone in the next few weeks.  Don’t look like that!  I
know you hate being cooped up all the time, but it really is for your own
good.  I don’t want to frighten you Mistral, but giving birth is a tricky
enough business without the added complication of mixed breeds!’

‘Whatever you
say Cain.’  Mistral said dully and turned to stare out of the window
again; the sun had begun to dip towards the Western Range and soft golden rays
of sunlight dappled the long grass of the meadows.  She sighed longingly,
knowing how the cool breeze would feel as it pushed her hair back from her
face, how the hollow thud of Cirrus’ galloping hooves would sound as they raced
across the meadow –

‘Mistral?’

‘Hmm?’ 
She turned around with a dreamy look on her face.

‘Did you just
hear what I said?’

‘Yes, um …
mixed breeds are complicated,’ she repeated vaguely.

‘No,’ he said
slowly.  ‘I said it is imperative that you let Mage De Winter or the twins
know where you are at all times.  No-one can say for certain when you are
due, it could be dangerous for you to be on your own right now.’

Mistral nodded
distractedly and turned to gaze out of the window again and was immediately
lost in the beguiling shadows cast over the Valley by the Western Range. 
She was so absorbed in the scene that the sound of the door closing quietly
barely registered.  Left alone in the small bedroom, Mistral gazed at the
glass panes of the window to see her own reflection staring back at her,
wide-eyed and strangely blank.  She studied her own face with detached
interest for a moment before letting her eyes slide out of focus, Seeing with
her mind and not her eyes. 

She could
instantly hear the twins downstairs, whispering about her, and she almost
laughed.  Why were they whispering?  She could hear their
thoughts!  They might as well be shouting!  Sighing, she watched the long
fingers of shadow stretching across the valley and let the tendrils of her mind
chase after them, bounding away from her like Prospero after a rabbit. 
She smiled as she caught the random thought of one of the apprentices being
taught by the centaurs in the Arena.

A
centaur!  I’m being taught to shoot by a centaur!  I can’t believe
it!

The centaurs …
Imperato’s wild voice rustled in her ear like dry autumn leaves; he was
enjoying teaching, imparting knowledge of a skill he had honed to perfection
over nearly three centuries.  Mistral let her mind rove further, touching
on Dravite and Faras, both so serious and sombre, intent on the task of
instruction.  Passing over them quickly she read the apprentices
collectively, letting the nervous, excited babble of their thoughts pour into
her mind like a rushing mountain stream.

If only my
mother could see this!  She’d be so proud …

I shot the
target!  I actually shot the damned target!

Are they
half-man or half-horse?  There’s more man than horse there, I think … No,
more horse …

Mistral
laughed at the confused musing of one apprentice then felt Sight pull wilfully
at her mind, like Cirrus straining against her hold on a fresh spring morning,
filled with the promise of boundless energy and a desire to expend it. 
With a bell-like peal of laughter she unleashed more invisible tentacles from
her mind, letting them spring forth and unravel across the Valley to fasten
briefly onto the mind of every warrior they flew past, providing Mistral with a
fleeting glimpse of their thoughts before she willed the tentacle on, reaching
out for fresh minds.  Like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower,
Mistral sampled the thoughts laid on display to her by the Sight. 
Occasionally she would linger over a particular thought that captivated her
attention, but it was never for long; there was too much to See. 

The babble of
noise in her head intensified as more tentacles fed thoughts back to her; the
deluge of information was not at all confusing, merely distracting. 
Xerxes … she dipped in and out of his mind in the blink of an eye, the content
of his thoughts was too unpredictable to encourage much exploration. 
Brutus … she loitered in his mind, listening to him with a fond smile while he
deliberated between which of his two favourite bows to take on the mercenary
Contract.  Finally unable to decide he placed them both by his packed
saddlebag; an action so similar to one she would have made that she laughed out
aloud.  How many times had she left the house wearing more weaponry than
the window display of Toothe and Nayle? 

A splinter of
ice slid into her mind when a tentacle fastened onto Leo.  With a shiver
she pulled the tentacle away and redirected it to be rewarded with the deep,
rich voice of Bryden Wolfsnare, singing in elven to himself while he luxuriated
in a hot bath; something he had only experienced since leaving tribal life and
had developed a passion for.

Laughing to
herself, Mistral snapped that tentacle out of Bryden’s mind before the bubbles
of soap could disperse, drawing it back and releasing it like an arrow from a
bow.  Concentrating on that one tentacle, she left the others to wind
sinuously through the Valley and report thoughts back to her.  She heard
them all, but concentrated on that one single thread, watching it travel faster
and faster, out of the Valley and across the meadow, soaring up into the azure
sky, up and over The Velvet Forests, arcing high above the Moors to plummet
down with dizzying speed into the glittering white marble edifice of the Council
headquarters and catapult the thoughts of Mage Grapple into her mind with a
force that made her physically recoil.

This debate
will define the future of the Ri and the future of the Isle …

Enough of
that!  Mistral yanked the tendril out from Mage Grapple’s tightly ordered
thoughts and urged it on again, out over the Black Cliffs where the sea flowed
beneath her in a rush of sparkling blue, flying towards a ship hung with white
sails emblazoned with a vast golden lion: the emblem of the Rochforte tribe.

A voice spoke
in French; demanding her total focus.  The multitude of thoughts in her
head instantly muted, allowing Christophe’s voice to assume centre stage in her
mind.  He was talking to Malachi in a voice full of scorn.