Read The Seer Online

Authors: Kirsten Jones

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

The Seer (108 page)

‘Thoughts!’
 Phantom replied promptly.  ‘And loads of ones that really shouldn’t
ever become public!  It was great!’

‘And what
else?’

Phantom
frowned, ‘Well, there were feelings too –’

‘Exactly. 
There is always a price to pay.  With the blessing of being all-knowing
comes the curse of being all-feeling.  Mistral would have to share in
Golden’s rejection and misery in order to hear her thoughts, it would be
impossible not to have empathy.’ 

Phantom
scowled, ‘You can’t seriously feel sorry for Golden!  It’s all of her own
doing!  She’s cheated and lied to get what she wants too many times to
expect anyone to believe the truth when she finally tells it!  Golden’s
got tangled in her own web of deceit, and I refuse to feel any pity for
her!  And you shouldn’t waste any emotion on her either Mistral! 
She’ll survive, she always does!’

‘I know, and I
don’t feel sorry for her … it’s just not a very satisfying kind of victory
that’s all.’

‘No.’ Phantasm
sighed.  Opening the doors to a large mirror-fronted wardrobe he hung the dress
inside and turned to look at Mistral.  ‘I’m sure you’d rather have had a
fight with her in the middle of the banqueting hall, or maybe on the dance
floor?’

Mistral
grinned, ‘Now that would have been more enjoyable use for that space!  I
wonder if Mage Grapple would consider inviting Golden back when I’m in fighting
shape again!’

‘I doubt it,
now … brother?  Talking of prices to pay … we should really get the rather
unpleasant duty of a visit to our mother over with before we leave.  Care
to join us Mistral?’

Mistral gave
him an apologetic look, ‘Love to but can’t, sorry, I’ve got to pack.’

‘Of course you
have.’  Phantasm murmured, looking pointedly at the huge wardrobe which
was completely empty apart from Mistral’s white dress.

‘What time are
we leaving?’  Phantom asked, rising reluctantly to his feet and
stretching.

Mistral’s eyes
grew vague while her mind connected with Fabian’s again, ‘Midday –’

‘Another long
ride back.’  Phantom grumbled, then turned to look hopefully at
Mistral.  ‘I don’t suppose that now Mage De Winter has embraced the Craft
he’d consider Casting a nice little Expediency spell on us to hurry the journey
along would he?  In fact, why not get him to cast one on my brother and I
before we go see our mother, just to make the visit go a little faster.’

‘You can ask
him if you want, but I’m not going to.’  Mistral replied
shortly.   

By midday
Fabian, Mistral and Leo were waiting for the twins outside Melsina De’ath’s
house.  Leaning against the railings of the extravagant courtyard Mistral
gazed at the depressed looking lions imprisoned there.  Prospero whined
and stared hungrily at them.  A long strand of saliva dangled from his
mouth then snapped and fell onto the swept flagstone pavement.

Mistral smiled
and patted him on the head, ‘I know you think they look challenging Prosp, but
Eloise probably has more fight in her than those two,’ she sighed and looked at
Fabian.  ‘They really should be released you know.  It’s cruel
keeping them penned in like that.’

‘They would be
eaten by manticores within seconds.’  Fabian replied practically. 
‘Those two have been in captivity far too long to have any survival instincts
left.’

‘Like me being
stuck in the Valley.’  Mistral grumbled under her breath.  She was
not looking forward to returning to her Valley gaol.  She’d agreed to run
Cain’s shop for him while he was abroad and the prospect of standing behind a
counter for eight hours a day didn’t exactly thrill her.

‘Mistral?’

Leo’s icy
summons dragged her from her brooding thoughts.  She turned and looked
enquiringly at her new Divinus. 

‘I want you to
read Samson, Gleacher and Bryden while we are waiting.  I need an update
on events in the Valley.’

Mistral nodded
and gazed sympathetically into the amber eyes of one of the bored lions,
knowing just how it felt; caged for others entertainment.  With a
dispirited sigh she released a tendril of Sight from her mind, feeling it
uncurl slowly at first then with more impetus, springing eagerly away to
unravel up into the late summer sky.  She released a second in quick
succession and after a moment’s hesitation finally unleashed the third; the one
intended for Bryden.  With a fervent hope not to find the Magnate member
indulging his love of hot baths, Mistral sent the three strands of Sight up
into the cloudless sky and across the Isle.  She watched their progress in
her mind’s eye, seeing the sprawl of the Council fall away to be replaced by
the unbroken green blur of the High Moors.  Here the tendrils gathered
speed, vying with each other like racing horses to soar over The Velvet
Forests, the thick canopy of green and russet flying past at a dizzying pace
until they were suddenly arcing up high over the meadows and plummeting down
into the Valley, instantly fastening themselves into the minds of Samson, Gleacher
and Bryden Wolfsnare.

She frowned
while she listened to the three different voices in her mind, her eyes roving
unseeingly over the ornate courtyard before her.  The deluge of
information was confusing; chaotic … Samson was fighting … Gleacher too …
Bryden … for once not in a bath but shooting his longbow from the open window
of his tower room. 

With a gasp
Mistral withdrew from their minds, her eyes flying open to see Fabian and Leo
looking urgently at her.

‘Well?’ 
Leo demanded.

‘They’re
fighting!  Damn it!  I can’t believe I’m stuck three days ride away
when there’s an almighty battle going on in the damned village square!’

‘The Valley is
under attack?’  Leo’s eyes blazed.  ‘Who dares invade our sanctuary?’

‘The party
Christophe sent to find me!  It’s not a small group but the whole damned
Rochforte army!  There’s a load of French mercenaries in with them too!’

Leo drew in a
sharp breath, ‘We need to be there now!’

Fabian was
already striding back towards the Council, ‘I will ask Eximius to cast on us.’

‘That will be
difficult!  He left the Council this morning to meet with Chieftain
Greenoak!’

Fabian
abruptly halted and spun around, his face drawn tight, ‘Then we ride with all
due haste!’

‘I will fetch
the Gemini!’  Leo was already pushing open the gate and striding away
through the courtyard past the two sleeping lions. 

‘If we ride
through the night we can make it by tomorrow afternoon!’  Mistral
immediately bunched her reins in one hand and grasped the pommel of her saddle
with the other, preparing to mount Cirrus. 

Watching her
trying to haul her ungainly body up into the saddle Fabian’s expression
immediately changed.  Reaching up to catch her under the arms he swung her
away from Cirrus, holding her close while he gazed imploringly at her. 

‘Please
forgive me, I am a fool.’

‘What?’ 
Mistral frowned in confusion.  ‘No you’re not!’

‘I am.  I
have let stubborn pride blind me for too long.’  Fabian’s lips formed a
smile but his eyes continued to gaze at her with a dark intensity.  ‘I
think that I allowed myself to become so obsessed with pushing you to embrace
your destiny because it has allowed me to ignore my own … yes, Mistral,’ he
paused and lifted a finger to press it against her lips and silence her, smiling
softly at the flash of jealousy in her eyes, ‘you are my destiny and I love you
with all my heart and soul, but I am a Mage.  I have at my disposal the
means to protect you with more than just my sword or my name.  I have the
Craft.’

‘Oh no,
Fabian!’  Mistral cried, shaking her head quickly.  ‘I would never
ask you to compromise what you believe in!’

‘No, I know
that you would not.  But have you forgotten what the Sight revealed to you
last night?  It was not your destiny to halt the Rochfortes, but mine and
Leo’s.  Our souls can only truly be complete once we embrace the true
nature of our blood; we are Mage born.’

A silence fell
while she gazed into his dark eyes, the absolute conviction that lay there
stilling the words of argument on her lips. 

‘We need to
return to the Valley by the fastest means possible, and that will require us to
cast.  Do you agree brother?’  Fabian looked up at Leo walking
through the courtyard gate with the twins following behind him.

Leaving the
twins to close the gate, Leo nodded curtly, ‘It is not something I wish to make
a habit of, but in this instance I feel we have no choice.’

‘Then we cast
together.’

Why
couldn’t they have done that before we had to visit our mother?  It’s been
the longest two hours of my life!

Mistral looked
around Fabian to see the twins stood side by side.  The merest hint of
irritation shone in Phantom’s eyes – it’d been his thought she’d heard. 
Two hours with Melsina … Mistral couldn’t imagine anything worse. 

‘May I help
you up?’

Fabian’s
murmured question broke through her vindictive thoughts.

‘Oh, yes,
right.’

Once she had
been helped into her saddle, Mistral gathered up the reins and looked over at
Fabian and Leo, trying not to stare but too intrigued to hide her obvious
curiosity.  When they had cast in the Council chamber the night before
she’d been too in the thrall of Sight to notice … but now he was about to
exercise his power in broad daylight, right before her eyes.  A slither of
panic slipped into her mind.  Would he change somehow?  Look, or even
behave differently now he had embraced the Craft?  What if he became
corrupt like the Mages she had Seen the night before, only interested in
satisfying their own shallow wants; could she still love a man like that?

Don’t fret
Mistral.  He’s still your Mage.  He just might relax a bit more now
he’s finally got over the whole issue of “embracing the Craft”  …

Mistral’s eyes
met Phantasm’s in a fleeting glance then quickly looked back to watch Fabian
lock gazes with Leo.  There was no sound, no murmured incantation or
visible sign of the spell they were weaving but suddenly the air between them
began to eddy and swirl, as though caught in one of the sudden autumn breezes
that whipped the leaves up into spirals and moved them across the forest floor
in tiny whirlwinds of golden brown.  The spiralling air expanded out from
between the brothers to envelope them all in a rush of warm air, filling their
lungs with the burning scent of ozone.  Then, just as suddenly as it had
come, it was gone.

‘It is cast.’

Fabian’s
softly spoken words held no bitterness, only acceptance.  He had finally
acknowledged who he truly was.  Her beloved Mage was complete, and for
that one simple fact she suddenly loved him more than she ever thought
possible.

‘We ride for
the Valley!’

Leo’s response
was less reserved, kicking his grey stallion from a standstill to a canter he
clattered away along the avenue of houses.  The twins rode after him at a
more controlled pace, leaving Fabian and Mistral alone.

‘Are you
ready?’  

‘Yes, but …
um, Fabian?’  Mistral gazed at her Mage, his soulful eyes instantly
drawing her in.

‘Yes?’

‘I –’

Consumed by an
emotion she was completely incapable of putting into words, she faltered and
simply stared at him in silence.  He smiled and leaned forward to brush
his lips against hers.  He knew.  Of course he knew.

The Ransacking of
the Ri

 

The spell
Fabian and Leo had cast took effect once they passed through the City
gates.  Looking down at the hard-packed earth passing beneath Cirrus’s
pounding hooves, Mistral watched it suddenly accelerate and rush away, like a
rug being pulled from under them. 

Reaching over
to touch her arm, Fabian looked enquiringly at her.

Can you
read if I take Cirrus?

She nodded in
reply to his unspoken question and he immediately reached over to take her
reins.  He didn’t need to say who.  Gripping the pommel of her saddle
for support, Mistral let her mind fly ahead of them to the Valley, the
invisible strands of Sight shrinking the miles that lay between them until she
was there.  She closed her eyes and opened them again to See not the
rolling moorland sweeping past but the cobbles of the village square, red with
the blood of Malachi’s twisted fantasy.

‘I See –’

With every
tendril of Sight that fastened on Mistral was afforded a glimpse of the battle
raging in the Valley … villagers fleeing as their homes were ripped apart and
shops ransacked by soldiers, merciless in their pursuit of the prize Christophe
coveted … the door to the Cloak and Dagger, splintered and hanging off its hinges,
tables and chairs overturned in a mess of broken glass and spilt liquor … and
in the midst of the turmoil was Floris, swinging a heavy club at the two
Rochforte soldiers threatening him with drawn swords. 

‘Où est le
Seer?’

Mistral
repeated the words tonelessly, echoing the shouted demand that fell from the
lips of every Rochforte soldier and hired mercenary.

Clovis …
red-faced and shouting angrily amidst a sea of panicked horses turned out of
their stalls by mercenaries searching the stables ... Serenity ... no longer
the tranquil mother-figure but white-faced with fury and flinging bottles of
poison at the soldiers that forced their way into her Infirmary ... Mycroft …
barricaded in his tower room, vociferously lecturing the mercenaries hammering
at his door on the futility of violence, entreating them to lay down their arms
and seek a peaceful resolution.  The axe that smashed through the door
gave their succinct reply ... Bernadette ... wielding two meat cleavers and
screaming like a banshee at the pair of mercenaries who dared barge into the
sacred domain of her kitchen.

The fighting
was fiercest in the village square.  Led by Gleacher, warriors and
villagers led by were battling an army of Rochforte soldiers.  Samson and
the apprentices were outnumbered and fighting for their lives in the Arena,
only prevented from being completely overwhelmed by the might of the Rochforte
invasion by the fearsome skill of the three centaurs shooting longbow from the
higher ground of the paddock.

Leo listened
in stony-faced silence to Mistral describing the ruthless desecration of the
Valley in a flat, emotionless voice.  His tension reflected in the faces
of the twins, but Fabian … Fabian had eyes only for Mistral, watching her
closely while her blank gaze drifted over the passing countryside, tirelessly
relaying the scenes of violence and bloodshed until she suddenly swayed and
nearly fell from her saddle.  Fabian quickly reached out to steady her,
his words spoken with a firmness that was meant for more than just her
ears. 

‘Enough
now.’ 

Taking a drink
from the waterskin he passed her, Mistral let him continue to lead Cirrus until
she felt her strength begin to return.  Gathering up the reins, she smiled
her thanks and took control of her own horse once more.  Looking around at
the landscape rushing past she realised that they were already galloping along
the cliffside path bordering The Velvet Forests; their journey was nearly
over.  She glanced up at the sun to gauge the time and noted with surprise
that it was not yet the middle of the afternoon.  The power of the spell
Fabian and Leo had cast was equal to that of Mage Grapple’s.  

The sound of
Leo’s voice speaking made her turn to see that he had pulled his grey stallion
alongside Fabian and was attempting a conversation.  It was impossible for
a low voice and to be heard over the rushing wind, so Leo was forced to shout,
enabling her and the twins to hear every word without need of her gift.

‘Their timing
could not have been less opportune!  Most of the warriors are absent from
the Valley on a mercenary Contract!’

‘I doubt it is
a coincidence.’  Fabian’s raised voice was hard.  ‘Whose name was on
that Contract?’

‘Javiero
Martinez.  He’s a rich Spanish Mage involved in a squabble with a
neighbouring land owner… nothing out of the ordinary.’

Fabian
frowned, ‘Martinez?  It’s not a name I know.  Have you had any
dealings with him before?’

‘No, and I
have never heard of him either.  He contacted Scrimshaw with the
requirements and paid money in advance through a courier.’

Fabian’s face
darkened, ‘I am willing to bet that money was Malachi’s and the Spaniard was
really a Frenchman with Rochforte blood in his veins!’

Mistral could
hear the twins silently agreeing with Fabian’s suspicions.  A large,
well-paid Contract taking all available warriors coinciding exactly with Leo
being absent from the Valley was timing too perfect not to have been
orchestrated. 

Fabian and Leo
did not speak again.  They were now riding across the meadows and would
soon reach the Valley’s North Gate.  Mistral glanced down at the grass
rushing beneath the horses’ hooves and saw it begin to slow; the spell was
starting to lose affect as they neared their destination.  Battle was
moments away.

They galloped their
weary horses through the North Gate to silence; no shouted greeting or mournful
tolling of the warning bell. 

So that’s
how they got in!

Phantasm’s
thought did not need to be voiced.  The sight of two guards lying slain by
arrows at the foot of one of the huge gates spoke for itself. 
  

Leo barely
glanced at the fallen guards but spurred his horse on to gallop faster, his
face rigid with fury.  They could hear the sounds of battle over the
pounding of hooves, a cacophony of shouts and clashing swords that sent
adrenalin coursing through each of them.  Mistral was prepared for the
sight that met their eyes when they rounded the last bend in the path, but the
others had only heard her words and not shared in her visions.  Leo jerked
his horse to an abrupt halt and stared down at the scene of violence in the
village square.  Turning sharply in the saddle he began to issue a series
of curt commands.

‘Fabian! 
With me!  We will attack from the back!  Mistral!  You will stay
here under the protection of the Gemini!  And get that dog to guard!’

When Mistral
began to protest Leo cut her short with a furious glare.

‘No
Mistral!  Those soldiers are here to find you!  Do you want every
member of the Valley to have shed their blood just for you to wander in and hand
yourself over?’

‘I –’

‘Shut up and
stay put!’  Leo snapped, abruptly drawing his sword he pushed his horse
into a gallop and thundered down to the village square and was instantly
submerged in the broiling mass of the fight.

‘Please stay
here Mistral.’  Fabian’s liquid eyes were beseeching, his softly spoken
request exerting far more power over her than any shouted command from
Leo.  His lips touched hers in a feather light caress and then he was
gone, galloping down to join the fray and taking her heart with him.

‘Oh! 
Damn them both!’  Mistral snarled and reached for the crossbow attached to
the pommel of her saddle.

‘No Mistral!’
 Phantasm rested a restraining hand over hers. 

‘Come on
brother!’  Mistral cried.  ‘You heard Leo!  This is my
fault!  I know you won’t let me fight, but at least let me shoot a few
damned bolts into some Rochforte vermin!’

‘We’re
not
going to take part in this battle –’

‘We
are
damn it!’

‘– we’re going
to win it!’  Phantasm finished angrily. 

‘What?’ 
Mistral stared at him wildly.  

‘You know what
Mistral!’  Phantom pulled his horse around to face her, the noise of
battle forcing him to shout.  ‘For someone with the Sight, you can be so
blind!’  

Mistral’s
expression suddenly cleared, ‘Oh!’ 

‘Yes, oh.’
 Phantom rolled his eyes and circled his horse tightly so that he and his
brother were now on either side of her. 

Phantasm
knotted his reins tightly and hooked them over the raised pommel of his saddle,
‘Now, if Prospero would be so good as to our guard while we do this, we can
begin.’

Mistral gave
Prospero the command to guard.  He immediately began to pace back and
forth in front of them, his pale blue eyes staring fixedly down at the battle.

‘Good … hand
please.’ 

Phantasm took
hold of her left hand while Mistral placed her right in Phantom’s.  Their
minds were instantly linked.  Thoughts and emotions flowed freely between
them; she shared in their shock at the sight of the Valley under siege, and
they in turn felt her frustration at being prevented from fighting. 

Ah, but you
can fight Mistral … now focus, we need to be more than observers this
time.  Are you ready?

Ready
brothers …

Mistral lifted
her head and cast one final look down at the battle being waged below then
closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, clearing her mind of all distractions,
letting the clamour fade to become a distant murmur.  She inhaled and
exhaled again, feeling the twins match her until they were breathing in
harmony.  Gradually their hearts slowed to beat together and three became one,
existing with perfect synergy.  Together they travelled down into
Mistral’s mind, to the darkness of her subconscious where coiled tendrils of
Sight lay waiting to be released.  Conscious of the twins’ need to be able
to follow her actions, Mistral carefully willed out a single strand of Sight,
unfurling it with deliberate slowness to weave almost lazily through the air
and fasten into the mind of the nearest Rochforte soldier.  Abruptly a
harsh voice invaded the peace of their conjoined minds, screaming the oaths and
curses of battle.  Mistral felt the disturbing sensation of the twins’
double presence linking together within her mind and heard beneath the
soldier’s guttural shouts the faint whisper their gift.  A sudden heat
flared along the tendril of Sight and the shouting voice was instantly replaced
by the blissful silence of a mind succumbing to deep sleep.

It
worked! 

They shared a
moment of fierce triumph.  The twins had successfully used the tendril of
Sight as a conduit for their gift.  Now it was time to take control.

Can you
keep up?

Of course
we can Mistral.

We’ll See
about that brothers …

Sight erupted
from her with a shuddering force, surging up into the sky until it reached an
unseen peak and exploded.  Tendrils billowed out across the Valley to form
a vast invisible umbrella.  It held for the merest of seconds, quivering
with almost tangible impatience until Mistral’s silent command released a
cloudburst of tendrils, hurtling down into the minds of their enemies.  A
profusion of voices filled their minds in a confusion of shouted French
followed by their simultaneous translation, creating an odd echoing effect.

‘Où est le
Seer? ... Where is the Seer?’

‘Nous
allons conquérir vous!  Vous savez la puissance de la Rochfortes!  …
We will conquer you!  You will know the might of the Rochfortes!’

She ignored
them and concentrated on controlling the multiple strands of Sight, ensuring
that each one was secured into the mind of a Rochforte and not one of the Ri
until she was finally satisfied.  Now it was the twins’ turn to work.

Ready
brothers?

Mistral
experienced again the unsettling sensation of an outside influence moving
within her mind as the twins began to work their gift.  Beads of heat
pulsed along one tendril and then another, the process rapidly accelerating
until Mistral felt as though she had tongues of fire reaching out from her
mind, carrying the  irrefutable force of the Gemini’s will.

‘Surrender.’

And with that
single murmured word an entire army was brought to its knees.

Suddenly
losing the will to fight many Rochfortes were instantly slain, falling
soundlessly to the ground with a vacant look that swiftly glazed to become the
fixed stare of death.  Others tossed aside their weapons and held their
arms aloft in the universal signal of surrender.  Some were cut down
anyway, others spared and held at sword point while they were bound and dragged
to the Arena; the mighty Rochfortes, now prisoners of the Ri.

On the steep
path overlooking the village square Mistral and the twins gave a collective
sigh.  The battle was over, the Ri victorious.  Mistral slipped her
hands from the twins’ and gazed down at the scene of destruction below
her.  Bodies littered the cobbles, many clad in the Rochfortes’ white and
gold livery, but a worrying number wore black.  The battle may have been
won, but now the real fight was about to begin; the fight to save the lives of
the wounded.

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