The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  Fabian pushed back his chair and began to rise, quickly whispering in Mistral’s ear as he stood up, ‘I will be back soon. Listen if you wish to, however I’m sure there is nothing that will be of any interest, unfortunately – ’

  Mistral frowned in puzzlement and opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but he was already gone, moving quickly through the knot of people to find Castor. She watched him walk away, listening intently to his thoughts and quickly realised what he’d meant. His thoughts were already full of some statute the elven ambassador at the Council was in the process of contesting. She suppressed a sigh and turned her attention back to their table. Diannah had thawed slightly and was bemoaning her sons’ appearances.

  ‘Really Brutus, your hair does need a trim, and Xerxes! You look like you haven’t had a shave for days!’ She exclaimed. ‘Why can’t you just find a good woman to look after you?’

  ‘I am trying mother.’ Xerxes replied honestly.

  ‘Really hard.’ Brutus added in a low aside.

  ‘He actually holds auditions every Saturday night in The Cloak.’ Cain added helpfully then yelped as Xerxes’ heavy boot connected with his shin.

  Diannah shook her head with an expression of resigned affection on her face, ‘It is good to see you, my sons,’ she said proudly and then sighed. ‘But you were always destined to be trouble.’

  ‘Nothing has changed there, I can assure you.’ Cain muttered, giving Xerxes a foul look.

  ‘I must go.’ Diannah said suddenly, casting an anxious look over her shoulder to where Castor could be seen talking at a table with Fabian. ‘Chieftain Greenoak has been most generous in permitting my presence here this evening, but I really feel it’s time I was going now.’

  Mistral frowned and looked around the tavern; several of the elves were giving Diannah unwelcome looks, some even bordering on openly hostile.

  ‘We’ll escort you home mother.’ Brutus rose obediently and began to walk her to the door. After a moment’s hesitation, Xerxes scrambled from his seat and hurried after them. Mistral watched them go with a frown. She was unwilling to read their thoughts, knowing that they were going to be full of personal matters, but so much of the exchange between Diannah and her sons had left her feeling puzzled.

  ‘Ah, now who’s turn is it to have questions answered?’ Phantom whispered smugly in her ear.

  Mistral turned her head to whisper back, ‘Tell me what I need to know and don’t get all condescending on me,’ she leaned closer to add in a vicious undertone, ‘or I might feel the need to start discussing the finer points of Mage Hibbert’s artwork!’

  ‘There’s no need for threats Mistral!’ Phantom muttered and quickly buried his face in his tankard.

  Mistral waited impatiently for him to finish his drink but was thwarted from having her questions answered by the arrival of a huge wooden platter of meat. Closing her eyes she inhaled the rich aroma of roasted boar and was pleased when her stomach gave a hungry rumble instead of a queasy roll. ‘Oh thank heavens for that!’ She exclaimed and hungrily tore off a piece of the hot meat. ‘I’m starving!’

  Phantom watched her with a slightly revolted look on his face while she stuffed the piece of meat into her mouth, ‘Recovered from your sickness then I see?’ He picked up a knife and sliced off some meat before Mistral demolished the entire platter.

  She nodded, her cheeks bulging with meat, ‘Tell me why – ’ she began in a muffled voice but Phantom held his finger up to his lips with a disgusted look on his face.

  ‘Please no, Mistral! Do not spray food over me! Speak to me when you’ve finished.’

  Mistral scowled at him and forced her mouthful down with a huge swallow, ‘Tell me why Diannah had to go and why she was getting such funny stares and why –’

  Phantom held up a hand with a patronising sigh, ‘I can see you’re going to be in one of those moods, so allow me to make a suggestion. You eat, if that’s what you could describe that stomach turning action as, and I shall explain. I’m sure you’ve noticed that there are no female elves in the tavern?’

  Mistral nodded; her mouth full of roasted meat once again.

  ‘Good, glad to see you are beginning to appreciate the details.’ Phantom sniffed. ‘Well, elves, like most Arcane races, have very strong views on the status of the women in their societies, which is why there were none at the Festival of the Arcane, apart from the amazons and a few others who were, er, working –’ Phantom paused and looked slightly shifty.

  Mistral grinned and quickly shoved another piece of meat into her mouth before he noticed and got uppity again.

  ‘And that’s because their presence anywhere outside of the tribal home is quite heavily frowned upon.’

  Mistral’s eyebrows shot up in an outraged expression but she was unable to speak due to her full mouth.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you find the notion ridiculous and offensive, but try not to. It’s an overhang from the old days, before the Isle was made a sanctuary for our kind. Here, they are safe, mainly due to the strict regulations of the Council. I know you think the opposite, but believe me, without Council rule the tribes would quickly destroy each other in pointless wars. The only thing more bent on their destruction than each other, was humankind.

  ‘When the Arcane tribes were scattered across the world they were forced to fight for survival every single day of their lives. Their womenfolk were the future of the tribe you see, without them there could be no children, so their movements outside of the tribal home were kept to an absolute minimum to ensure that they were safe – ’

  ‘From what?’ Mistral mumbled through a mouthful of bread.

  Phantom rolled his eyes at her, ‘I was just getting to that, there really was no need to try and speak. From what? From everything that is now kept carefully under control by the Council! Other tribes, humans, trolls, manticores, cyclops, giants, dragons … pretty much everything you dream about having a go at has at one time or another preyed on the unsuspecting womenfolk of the tribes when they were happily going about their day to day business. Arcanes, you see,’ Phantom paused and took another long drink of cider, ‘like their solitude, well, you’d know all about that … but they were always wandering off into the forests to collect firewood on their own or something else equally mundane, without really realising the danger they were placing themselves in.’ Phantom looked at her thoughtfully. ‘In fact, you’re exactly like that, I wonder if you could be half-elf –’

  ‘No brother.’ Phantasm leaned over, shaking his head. ‘There are no dark-haired elves, not even half-bred ones.’

  Mistral switched her gaze to Phantasm and hastily swallowed her mouthful of bread, ‘Is that why there were no other women at the Divinus’ funeral banquet?’ She asked, choking slightly on the bread.

  Phantasm nodded and patted her absent-mindedly on the back while she coughed, ‘Yes, although the Divinus had not lived with a tribe or followed their way of life for a long time, the tradition was honoured out of respect for his elven blood.’

  Mistral glanced over her shoulder at the other occupants in the busy tavern. None of them seemed to be paying her the slightest attention. ‘They don’t seem bothered by me,’ she said with a dismissive shrug.

  Phantasm shook his head lightly, his green eyes suddenly amused, ‘For a multitude of reasons. Firstly, you are not elven, secondly, you are Ri, thirdly and perhaps most importantly, you are married to Mage De Winter.’

  Mistral’s mouth formed a silent ‘oh’. Fabian’s formidable reputation now extended to protect her as well. She looked across the room to see her Mage still deep in conversation with Castor, his aura glowed around his dark hair in a uniform royal blue; he was utterly focused on the subject they were discussing. With a deep sigh, Mistral dragged her attention back to Phantasm to ask him the final question that had been troubling her.

  ‘Oh look! Here comes our very own man of the moment, or should I say two moments!’ Cain cut across her in a loud voice. They all turned to see the tavern doo
r opening to emit a much chastened looking Xerxes followed by a grinning Brutus. ‘I’ll bet Xerxes wishes it wasn’t only female half-breeds that can’t have children!’ Cain added with a laugh.

  Mistral smiled and picked up another piece of meat. Cain had just answered her final question.

  By the time Fabian returned to their table Mistral was full of roasted boar and feeling sleepy. Phantom was on his fourth tankard of cider and had bored her rigid with a story he swore was funny but just seemed to be about an exceedingly dull Council meeting he and his brother had attended. Every time he appeared to be about to get to the punch line he remembered another part of the story and retold it from the beginning again. Fabian stood behind Mistral and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders; she tilted back her head to look up at him, fighting back a yawn.

  ‘Tired?’ He enquired with a smile.

  She nodded and rolled her eyes meaningfully in Phantom’s direction. He was just starting his story again for the fifth time.

  Fabian drew her chair out, ‘I’ll take you to the guest quarters.’

  ‘We’ll come with.’ Xerxes quickly scurried over.

  ‘I think we should all go now actually.’ Phantasm said, looking at his brother who was now telling Grendel the same story. ‘We need to get an early start tomorrow.’

  Tomorrow … Mistral felt a burst of excitement at the thought of the dragon hunt and her tiredness instantly vanished. ‘Come on then!’ She said brightly and leapt to her feet, startling Prospero who had been fast asleep beneath the table. ‘Let’s get an early night!’

  ‘That’ll make a change for you then won’t it, Little Dormir.’ Brutus quipped, sliding out from around the other side of the table and grabbing his cloak.

  ‘Little who?’ Mistral frowned, slipping her arms into the cloak Fabian held out for her.

  ‘The Sleepy Elven Princess of course!’ Brutus laughed and shook his head. ‘I forget that you were raised in some weird parallel world, what was it called? Never or something?’

  ‘Nevelte actually.’ Phantasm corrected while he helped his brother rise unsteadily to his feet. ‘A tiny rural Mage settlement, well, when I say Mage, they were barely capable of weaving a sock, never mind a spell.’

  ‘Ah, that reminds me Mistral.’ Phantom gazed unfocusedly at her. ‘What did you hear in Mage Powers’ mind today? He looked furious!’

  Mistral glanced at Fabian, ‘Can I tell them? Only he is a Council Official and I don’t want to be known for using my gift just to keep the twins supplied with gossip.’

  Fabian shrugged, ‘It’s no secret.’

  Phantom’s green eyes slid from Fabian to Mistral, following their conversation like a spectator at a tennis match.

  ‘You’re sure?’ Mistral persisted.

  ‘He should learn to keep his private thoughts locked away in the presence of a Seer. Anything he was thinking near you is public knowledge as far as I am concerned.’

  ‘Do you do that then?’ Mistral asked sharply. ‘Hide thoughts from me?’

  ‘Only when I want to surprise you,’ he smiled.

  ‘Oh enough! Just tell me!’ Phantom cried desperately.

  Mistral laughed at her brother’s expression of impatience. Nothing excited Phantom more than a salacious piece of gossip, particularly about Council members.

  ‘Not in here though.’ Fabian said quietly and took her hand to lead her through the rowdy tavern.

  Bidding Castor good evening as he passed his table, Fabian opened the heavy door and stepped out into winter’s biting cold. The sky was clear of clouds and filled with thousands of tiny stars. Mistral gazed up at them while Fabian pulled her under the warmth of his cloak. Imperato’s complicated teachings about the movements of the planets drifted into her mind; a subject too vast to be grasped within one lifetime and definitely beyond her scale of comprehension.

  Fabian followed her gaze, ‘What do you see?’ He asked curiously.

  She turned her head back to look at him, her eyes wide and unblinking, ‘Stars.’

  Fabian laughed and began to walk with her through the village towards their guest quarters. Bundled deep within their cloaks with hoods pulled up, the warriors hurried after them.

  Phantom weaved a little as he ran to catch her up. ‘Mage Powers?’ He prompted breathlessly, enveloping her in a cloud of cider-scented breath.

  Mistral screwed her face up and pushed him away, ‘I’ll tell you,’ she said impatiently. ‘Just don’t breath on me! And if you snore tonight you’re sleeping outside!’

  ‘I do not snore!’ Phantom retorted, looking deeply affronted.

  ‘Er, yes you do actually,’ said Cain. ‘It took me ages to work out what the weird noise when we were all sleeping in the dorms. I kept hearing this buzzing noise every night. I thought there was a bee’s nest in the walls or something!’

  ‘Mage Powers?’ Phantom repeated in a louder voice.

  Mistral sighed, ‘It’s nothing too scandalous, well not on a Xerxes scale of scandalous anyway –’

  ‘You can stop that right now Mistral! I’m not being used as some new measurement of scandal!’ Xerxes cut in. ‘I was young … it was a long time ago and … I’ve learned my lesson,’ he finished hastily.

  ‘Er ... what?’ Cain gave him a confused look.

  ‘Our mother had a word.’ Brutus explained with a sigh. ‘Well, she had quite a few words actually, but she saved the really loud ones for Xerxes – anyway, I think he got the message.’

  ‘Back to Mage Powers now please!’ Phantom demanded, slurring his words a little.

  ‘Ah yes, the helpful and polite Mage Powers. Like I said, it was nothing too scandalous. He fell in love with a nymph called Calantha and brought her to live at the Council. She came complete with her adult daughter, a half-breed called Golden –’

  ‘No! Surely not the Golden?’

  ‘One and the same brother.’ Mistral confirmed grimly. ‘It turns out that Mage Powers has a lot more in common with Xerxes that you’d have thought from their meeting today because he couldn’t resist the cake and eat it situation either and was caught with Golden by Calantha.’

  Cain and Brutus burst out laughing but Xerxes merely scowled and pulled his hood further up.

  ‘Always thought he was shifty.’ Phantom muttered. ‘Eyes too close together –’

  ‘What happened?’ Brutus asked, looking intrigued.

  Mistral shrugged, ‘The usual. Calantha issued an ultimatum. Powers took too long deciding so she stormed out and promptly took up with some other low-grade Councilor. I think he could have coped with that but she started bad-mouthing him and her daughter to anyone who would listen, leaving Powers no choice but to chuck Golden out. By then Golden’s name was mud at the Council and no-one would take her in … well, you guess what she did then.’

  ‘Swore vengeance on him and went straight to the Valley of the Ri to train,’ sighed Phantom. ‘That explains so much about her!’

  ‘It does rather.’ Mistral yawned, suddenly exhausted again.

  ‘I think we had best finish the matter there,’ Fabian said quietly. ‘We will be sharing quarters with Powers and Silver tonight.’

  They had reached the door to a long single-story building made out of heavy black timbers like the stableblock. He unlatched the door and stepped inside. Mistral looked around as she followed wearily. The entire log cabin consisted of one long room with a large fire set in a stone hearth. A cooking pot hung over the flames and Mistral could smell the remnants of some kind of meat stew. Two bundled figures lay asleep directly in front of the fire.

  ‘Huh, looks like they bagged the best spot for the night.’ Cain grumbled, throwing his Wolverine skin down onto the floor further away from the two Mages.

  Giving the two sleeping Mages contemptuous looks, the others followed suit. Prospero had no such qualms. He padded over to collapse heavily between the two Mages, laying his head across one of the sleeping figures like a pillow. The Mage swore and tried to push him off but was swiftly
silenced by a low growl and immediately lay still once more. Mistral grinned at her dog and he wagged his tail in response, deftly smacking the second Mage in the face with each hearty wag. Smiling, Fabian dropped down against the back wall of the room. Mistral sank happily into his arms and was sound asleep before he had pulled the Wolverine skin over them both.

  The sound of low voices woke Mistral. She opened her eyes, frowning in irritation. It was still dark, she cursed whoever was disturbing her sleep and closed her eyes to try and sleep again, but the voices persisted in a low murmur, one of them sharply petulant, like a child’s.

  ‘I do not snore! Now can we please change the subject, it is growing rather old!’

  ‘You do snore brother, I’ve never heard anything like it! You make Grendel’s snores sound like birdsong in comparison. Now I’m only saying this from a professional point of view.’

  ‘Oh I see, now you’re going to recommend that I buy one of your overpriced cures are you?’

  ‘Tried and tested brother! Guaranteed to give the loved ones in your life the peaceful night’s sleep they deserve – which is us by the way, so please buy some.’

  Mistral’s eyes flew open wide at the sound of Cain and Phantom’s voices. They were up, it must be morning … she was hunting dragons today! Throwing back the Wolverine skin, Mistral sat up and looked around the room. The Mages had gone and Prospero was stretched out in front of the hearth. Phantom was stood over him, stirring something in the cooking pot. Cain was knelt nearby, the contents of his saddlebag laid out in front of him while he sorted through various different coloured glass bottles. There was no-one else in the room.

  Mistral yawned and stretched before rising to her feet and walking over to the fire, ‘Where is everyone?’ she asked, bending to rub Prospero’s head affectionately.

  ‘Getting provisions.’ Cain replied, not looking up from his inventory. ‘We’re going to have a meeting over breakfast.’

  ‘Which is?’ Mistral enquired, peering cautiously into the pot.

  ‘Porridge,’ said Phantom shortly. His face wore the unmistakable grumpy expression brought on by an over-indulgence of cider, and he was obviously not taking the personal slight on his sleeping habits too well either.