‘You can take my place Samson.’ Mistral offered, the quietness of her voice letting him know that she was serious.
He shook his head, scowling heavily, ‘I think the officials would notice that I’m not you Mistral.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Phantom eyed Mistral’s bedraggled appearance. ‘You two look quite similar at the moment.’
‘You could do with a tidy up before you represent the Ri in the final.’ Phantasm remarked, reaching over to pull a leaf from her hair. ‘Would you like to go for a wash? I can come and keep guard.’
‘Thanks, but Fabian’s coming with me.’ Mistral quickly kicked Cirrus on to hide the blush creeping over her face.
‘Mage De Winter’s taking you to the pool?’ Phantasm hissed when he caught her up. ‘You know the two of you shouldn’t be alone together, especially not in situations that involved being undressed!’
Mistral turned to glare at him, her initial embarrassment giving way to anger, ‘We are married you know!’
‘Don’t be obtuse Mistral! You know what I’m referring to! You two can’t be together until you have the Sight!’
Mistral turned away, her expression haughty, ‘Fabian’s a perfect gentleman.’
‘I doubt you have any notion of what constitutes gentlemanly behaviour!’ Phantasm snorted. ‘But let me tell you this Mistral, even gentlemen have their limits and you are certainly no lady!’
‘I am actually. I’ve got the title to prove it.’
Phantasm pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting to hold his temper, ‘Mistral. Really. Is this wise?’
‘Perfectly.’ Fabian replied coolly, riding up alongside Phantasm. ‘However, I do appreciate your continued concern for my wife’s wellbeing.’
Phantasm was at once stiffly polite, ‘Mage De Winter. I should be more than happy to escort Mistral to the pool.’
‘Thank you, but your offer is unnecessary.’
‘Fighting over you now are they?’ Phantom whispered to Mistral, jogging up alongside her on Mars.
‘Don’t! I want to die! Come on, let’s leave them to it!’ she muttered and kicked Cirrus into a canter, leaving Phantasm and Fabian to continue their conversation.
Phantasm watched Mistral and his twin ride on ahead before speaking, his tone clipped, ‘I sincerely hope you are not labouring under the misconception that I would behave inappropriately.’
‘No Phantasm, I do not think that of you.’ Fabian replied flatly. ‘I know that the bond you two share is very different to mine.’
Phantasm frowned, ‘If not that, then you have other concerns?’
Fabian nodded once and glanced over at Mistral and Phantom, her dark head bent close to his blond while he whispered something that made her laugh.
‘Columbine.’
‘But there was no sign of her in The Emerald Forests.’ Phantasm’s brow furrowed. ‘We searched for tracks and there were none, and I don’t recall Columbine being particularly adept at woodcraft during our apprenticeship.’
‘And shouldn’t the lack of evidence that she has been living there give more reason for concern?’
Phantasm’s frown deepened, ‘I am not sure I follow your thinking. To me it appears that she has fled.’
‘Or not gone anywhere at all.’
Phantasm’s face cleared, ‘Of course! Oh, that’s clever! Almost all of the Arcanes were out of the Vale for the hunt, either watching or taking part! It would provide the perfect opportunity for Columbine to move around the camp undetected and conceal herself somewhere close to where Mistral will be!’
Fabian nodded tensely, ‘Samson and I reached the very same conclusion. Columbine was almost successful in her attempt on Mistral’s life at the pool before and I believe that she may well try there again.’
Phantasm looked up to watch Phantom pulling another leaf from Mistral’s hair, earning himself an ungrateful slap on the arm in the process.
‘She saved my brother’s life today,’ he said quietly. ‘But I was too angry to thank her.’
Fabian watched Phantom rubbing his arm and complaining while Mistral laughed.
‘I think she would willingly die for you two. I am sure she would not expect or even desire your gratitude.’
‘And we would die for her too.’ Phantasm responded then sighed. ‘Nearly have a few times actually.’
Fabian gave a short laugh, ‘Near-death experiences do seem to follow my wife around like a shadow.’
‘Your wife.’ Phantasm mused softly and gave Fabian a sideways look. ‘I’ve heard you say that a lot today. Is it a phrase that pleases you because of its novelty or its meaning?’
Fabian turned, the smile on his lips not touching his eyes, ‘You doubt me still?’
‘I see you freshly returned from an assassination Contract to a wife you left. Two things you swore never to do again.’
‘Life is not like the pages of a book Phantasm. There are no rules when it comes to how I feel about Mistral. I would kill anyone –’ he paused, his cold eyes full of unspoken meaning ‘– who threatened to hurt what is mine.’
‘Mistral is not a possession!’
‘Is she not? I beg to differ. I see her as something precious to be treasured, protected and cared for, by whatever means necessary. Do I own her? Why not ask of her the same about me? But I’m sure you know the answer already. I am hers and she is mine. We belong to each other. And so do you by the way. But that’s something else you already know.’
Fabian abruptly urged Spirit on, leaving Phantasm alone with his thoughts in the middle of a celebrating crowd of Ri warriors. Despite not having won the hunting event they had secured two places in the final and were looking forward to an afternoon of entertainment.
‘There’s no shame in losing to a centaur in a hunting event anyway, everyone knows they could shoot mosquitos with a bow!’ Jareth was saying loudly.
‘Still, it would have been good to have three of the Ri in the final. Might have knocked some stigma from being a half-breed –’
‘Or make them look down on us even more!’ Jareth argued. ‘No doubt Bryden would decide that having mixed blood somehow gives an unfair advantage. Huh! He’d probably go and invent some limit on how much Mage blood you could have to be eligible to enter next time!’
‘Brothers! We mustn’t be greedy.’ Samson laughed and slapped the sweating neck of his horse. ‘We have two places in the final; any more would be frankly embarrassing! Now, there’s just time for a drink or three before the final begins. First round’s on me!’
Samson pulled his horse to a halt by the beer tent and was swiftly joined by most of the other warriors. Talking and laughing loudly, they dismounted and vanished into the tent.
‘That’s the last we’ll see of them until the final starts.’ Phantom glanced over at the already rowdy interior of the tent. ‘I think I’ll go collect the details of the final from the registration tent. See you back at the camp.’
Mistral watched him ride off along the avenue of tents before looking round for Fabian. He was still talking to Phantasm, his expression serious. She was glad they didn’t appear to be arguing anymore. Whistling Prospero, who was casting hungry looks in the direction of the fairies again, Mistral pushed her tired horse into a canter back towards their tent.
By the time she had turned Cirrus out and fed Prospero some leftover meat, the rest of her brothers had returned.
‘Why are you lot here and not in the beer tent?’ Mistral asked with a surprised look.
‘We’re hiding Xerxes.’ Brutus explained with a rueful grin. ‘He owes too much money on that hunt.’
‘It’s not funny!’ Xerxes snapped. ‘I took some really good odds on us winning, which we nearly did!’
‘But nearly’s not good enough is it brother?’ Brutus sighed, playing the patronising older brother. ‘And I really can’t believe that even you would take a bet against a centaur in a hunting event.’
Xerxes scowled angrily and muttered something under his breath.
Xerxes cut him off with a few choice words and stormed out of the tent, letting the canvas flap fall closed with a forceful snap.
‘Oh dear, “Exceptional Lover” crown slipped a bit further has it?’ Cain remarked, strolling back with Saul after turning their horses out.
‘I think it’s more of a necklace than a crown now.’
Mistral listened to their merciless teasing with a smile while she unbuckled her armour. It was a relief when the last piece dropped to the ground, leaving her sweat-damp shirt clinging to her back. She was looking forward to a cooling swim; maybe even trying to persuade Fabian to join her.
Picking up her saddlebag she turned to see Fabian and Phantasm walking towards the camp. Fabian was looking at her, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth while his eyes travelled over her torn trousers. She would have blushed but Phantasm’ recent comments about her being no lady made her hold her head a little higher and stride confidently towards him, heedless of the rips revealing more than a lady ever should.
‘Ready?’ Fabian enquired softly.
A hundred inappropriate responses filled her mind. Determined to be the lady she voiced none but smiled her yes and even managed a thank you when he took her saddlebag and slung it over his shoulder. Ignoring Phantasm completely, Mistral took Fabian’s hand and walked away, feeling quite pleased with her performance.
Saul walked out of the tent to see Mistral and Fabian walking away hand in hand with Prospero trotting along at their heels.
‘Where’s she going? We need to plan the final!’
‘For a wash probably.’ Cain replied disinterestedly and rummaged in his saddlebag for some food. ‘She looked like bought half the forest back in her hair –’
‘To the pool? With him?’ Saul interrupted.
Cain looked up with a frown, ‘It would appear so brother, what’s it to you?’
‘You know why!’
‘Yes, yes, much to Mistral’s displeasure I think the whole Isle knows that she must remain the lovely sweet innocent creature she is until her gift is mastered.’ Cain muttered with a roll of his eyes. ‘But no-one wants her to achieve Sight more than her Mage does, so I really think she’s going to be perfectly safe with him.’
‘Safe? With a stone-cold killer like De Winter?’
‘I wasn’t referring to him killing her.’
Saul scowled and began to pace agitatedly, continually glancing over at the receding figures of Fabian and Mistral.
Cain watched him for a moment then threw his saddlebag down in frustration, ‘Look brother, you really are going to have to drop your infatuation with her! She will get the Sight one day and then she will be his, completely.’
Saul paused in his pacing and looked at Cain, his expression thoughtful, ‘Maybe, but until that day arrives –’
‘No!’ Cain cut in sharply. ‘You do not have a chance, or a hope, or even a prayer! What you do have is a death wish! Right, that’s it! As soon as the damned final is over I’m taking you to the nymph tent and no arguments! I could even find you one with dark hair and a bad-temper if you want!’
Saul shot him a disgusted look and stalked into the tent.
Mistral cast long sideways looks at Fabian as they walked. She didn’t want to be caught staring but she loved to look at him, admiring his sharply defined cheek bones, and his skin, so pale beneath the tousle of dark hair, gleaming like polished jet in the sunlight.
She sighed deeply. Her happiness was so nearly complete but for that final missing piece, so insignificant compared to how much she already loved him, yet still it rubbed like a grain of sand. She found herself musing that it was unusual for Fabian to willingly put them in a situation where temptation, with a little help, might overcome them. A suspicion crept into her mind, making her turn to him with a frown.
‘Fabian?’
He looked at her, his dark gaze gently enquiring.
‘Why are you coming with me and not the twins? You don’t really think anything untoward of Phantasm do you?’
He shook his head unconcernedly, ‘No, of course not.’
‘But, then … why?’ she let her voice trail off, suddenly hopeful that Fabian wanted to accompany her for another reason altogether.
‘I suspect that Columbine may have used the opportunity of the Vale being almost entirely empty to conceal herself near to you again.’
‘Oh.’ Mistral couldn’t disguise the sudden disappointment she felt.
Fabian immediately halted and turned to face her. Lifting her hand to his lips he caressed the skin softly, gazing at her with eyes of darkest night.
‘Our time will come Mistral, you must know it.’
She gazed at him for a long moment, her expression hesitant, ‘Sometimes … I – I see things … the future, I think ... and I know they are real. But it’s only ever in my dreams.’
‘Tell me what you dream of Mistral.’
She gazed back, trapped in the velvet prison of his eyes, ‘You. I only ever dream of you.’
He smiled and pulled her closer, into the bittersweet pleasure of his embrace, releasing her, as ever, long before she wanted him to.
‘Wait here for me.’
Mistral was left blinking dazedly in the bright sunlight. She was surprised to see they had reached the pool, which was mercifully deserted save for Prospero doing excited circuits. She turned to watch Fabian striding over to the waterfall concealing the cave where she and Columbine had fought. As he approached the edge of the pool to climb across to the waterfall Mistral suddenly called out.
‘Fabian! Wait!’
He stopped and Mistral ran to him. She slowed to a walk, finally halting before him.
‘You’ll get soaked –’ she began to slowly unbutton his shirt.
Fabian froze, his face expressionless, but his eyes … they seared into hers with an intensity that burned. Without taking her gaze from his she unfastened the last button and slid her hands beneath the thin cotton, pushing it away to reveal the scarred skin of her dreams. She ran her hands across the lean muscles of his chest, luxuriating in the sensation of them tensing when he pulled her closer. Closing her eyes, Mistral let every thought leave her mind to live solely in that one blissful moment, wishing it could go on for ever. All too soon he was sighing her name in a softly exhaled plea.
‘Mistral –’
She let her touch linger on his sun-warmed skin for a moment longer then reluctantly stepped away, for once she the one to release him. She watched him stride back to the pool, admiring the lithe grace with which he moved over the rocks to reach the waterfall, never once hesitating or losing his balance. Turning quickly, he stepped beneath the waterfall itself, vanishing from her sight into the cave.
Mistral held her breath, listening for any sounds of a fight. She reached around to the back of her belt, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of her dagger, her grip tightening with every second that dragged by.
‘Nothing!’ Fabian’s voice echoed out from the cave.
Mistral released her held breath in a rush of relief then abruptly stopped breathing again when Fabian reappeared through the waterfall. He was soaked but didn’t seem to notice. Water rolled from his bare shoulders, leaving the skin glistening white. She stared, transfixed by the tiny rivulets of silver sliding down his back. He was so beautiful it made her heart ache. He reached the bank and began to walk towards her. She noticed distractedly that more drops shone in his hair and clung, diamond-bright, to every eyelash.
He stopped a short distance away from her, a dripping wet statue of perfection. Her Mage. They stared wordlessly at each other until Fabian finally spoke, his voice strained and hoarse.
‘Please. Go and take your swim Mistral.’
She held his burning stare for the length of another heartbeat, a deep sonorous boom that vibrated through her chest, so loud she was sure he could hear it too. A
bruptly she turned and strode towards the pool, kicking off her boots and yanking her shirt over her head as she went. She ran the last few steps to the water’s edge and dived in, still wearing her trousers.
Mistral stayed under until she was desperate for air, needing the water’s cooling touch on both her body and her mind. Breaking the surface with a gasp, she trod water awkwardly, hampered by her sodden trousers, and immediately regretted her impulsive action. The only dry trousers she now had were the ones Melsina had given her.
Cursing under her breath she swam back towards the bank with Prospero paddling along in her wake, a struggling fish clamped between his jaws. Leaving her dog to his breakfast, Mistral pulled herself out onto the rocks and looked around for Fabian. He had put his shirt on and was sat with his back towards her. She noticed with a sigh that the sun had already dried the water from his hair and no doubt also burned away the passion she had seen in his eyes earlier.
Reaching grumpily for her discarded shirt she pulled it on and walked over to him.
He looked up, his expression polite, ‘Better?’
‘Not really,’ she scowled, indicating to her wet trousers with an irritated wave. ‘I’m going to have to put on those other ones that make me look –’ she pulled a face and struggled for the words to describe how horribly exposed she felt in the close-fitting black trousers.
‘Ravishing.’ Fabian finished quietly and passed her saddlebag over.
Mistral snorted and opened the flap of her saddlebag, yanking out the trousers and a clean shirt, ‘More like one of those damned nymphs my brothers seem so intent on wearing out!’
Fabian smiled and watched her march away to change her clothes.
The Final Event
Fabian and Mistral returned to the camp just as Phantom arrived back from the registration tent, grinning and waving an official looking piece of parchment.
‘I’ve got the details of the final event!’ he called excitedly.
‘Share brother, share!’ Xerxes called out, reaching automatically into the top pocket of his jerkin for his tattered betting sheet. ‘I’ve been taking bets on what it’ll entail all weekend!’
The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) Page 52