The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Very true.’ Fabian smiled. ‘Now please come down, you’re making me nervous.’

  He abruptly vanished from view. She leaned over further to watch him climb swiftly down the ladder to the deck. Swinging her legs over the side she placed her feet carefully on the rungs and followed him down. He reached up and swung her into his arms before she reached the bottom.

  ‘Breakfast?’ he suggested, holding her close.

  ‘Yes please, I’m starving!’

  Fabian laughed, ‘When aren’t you these days? I’ll ask if there’s any boar in the kitchen.’

  ‘Please! Anything but fish –’ Mistral called as she quickly climbed down the next ladder to retrieve her boots. She sat down on one of the coils of rope to pull them on and looked at Fabian curiously. ‘Fabian? Who’s Elise White?’

  ‘She was my nursemaid, and also Leo’s, briefly.’

  Mistral caught the emotion that flickered across his face and bent her head to lace her boots up, ‘You were fond of her?’ She asked, trying to keep the question light. Fabian never talked about his upbringing.

  Fabian shrugged, ‘She was a kind woman, but guilty of misplaced loyalty when it came to my father. She believed that the name of De Winter instantly bequeathed him with the ability to make good judgements, and she was sadly mistaken.’

  ‘Do you want our son to have a nursemaid?’ Mistral asked with a sudden frown. She had no idea how Fabian expected their son to be raised.

  Fabian let out a harsh bark of laughter and strode over to pull her to her feet and into his arms, ‘No! I want our son to be loved by his parents, not a paid assistant!’

  ‘Oh good.’ Mistral sighed with relief. ‘Because I had thought that Prospero might want the job. Talking of which, he’s disgraced himself already –’

  They strolled together to the galley while Mistral relayed Prospero’s dead rat incident. After breakfast Fabian and Mistral returned to the deck to discuss the plans he and Gleacher had agreed on.

  ‘But how will we draw a party of Rochfortes hornets out of their nest without getting stung? There’ll only be the two of us! I know I like a challenge, but even I think that’d be a suicide mission!’

  ‘We won’t have to go to the stronghold Mistral, the Rochfortes will come to us.’

  ‘What? But how will they know we’re here?’

  ‘Before he passed the Divinus informed Leo and I that the Rochfortes were watching all the local ports for any Ri or Council ships. I have no doubt they will be informed very quickly of our arrival.’

  Mistral pulled a face, ‘Puts a bit of a dampener on our honeymoon then doesn’t it? Waiting for the inevitable attempt on our lives in the middle of the night by a horde of Rochfortes!’

  Fabian laughed, ‘There’s no need to be quite so melodramatic. We will be mooring in a small fishing village. I doubt very much that it will be under constant surveillance. By the time word of a Ri ship arriving reaches Etienne we should have been able to round up the herd and secure them, leaving us free to focus on watching for their arrival –’

  ‘But, won’t whoever does notice that a Ri ship has docked just use Expediency to get the news back to Etienne? They’ll be able to travel much faster than we can.’

  ‘The Rochfortes won’t be watching the ports themselves; it’s the type of menial task they would consider beneath them. They will have paid some of the locals to keep an eye out for our ships.’

  ‘Local? As in ... human?’

  Fabian nodded, ‘Which means it will take more time for word to reach Etienne. However, the bad news is that once Etienne is informed of a palomino and a firebrand being unloaded from the hold of a Ri ship he will immediately know that you and I are here. He saw enough of Spirit and Cirrus during the ride from Blackneath to the Council last year to recognise them again instantly.’ Fabian paused and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps we should use Gleacher’s horse and buy another at the dock –’

  ‘No thanks.’ Mistral said quickly. ‘If we end up fleeing for our lives I want to be on a horse I know and trust!’

  ‘Then we are just left with the timescale to calculate. Our destination is a less than a day’s ride from the fishing port. The Rochforte stronghold is further to the west, perhaps even another day’s ride. That gives us at least a day’s grace before Etienne is informed of our arrival at the port. It will take at least another day for a party to reach us, giving us a total of a two day head start.’

  ‘But how will he know where we are? Will we be followed?’

  ‘We will be docking in a small village Mistral. News of strangers arriving will spread like wildfire amongst the locals. They will be naturally curious to know what a foreign ship is doing there and question the crew at every opportunity.’

  ‘Yes but, the crew are Ri aren’t they? They’ll know not to talk about the Contract.’

  ‘Yes, they are Ri and would never divulge the details of a Contract. However, we don’t want to prevent the news of our arrival from reaching Etienne, merely delay it. Gleacher has instructed the crew to remain on board for the first night then appear to sneak off the ship during the second day to do what all bored warriors do when faced with a week long wait and nothing to occupy their time other than –’

  ‘– head to the local tavern, drink, play cards and flirt with the local women,’ sighed Mistral.

  Fabian gave her a wry smile, ‘Precisely that. Gleacher will instruct them to accidently let slip the purpose of our visit and then the fun begins.’

  Mistral turned to look at him; he was staring out to sea, the breeze blowing his tousled hair back from his face to expose his ivory skin and dark eyes, shining with anticipation of the forthcoming adventure. She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling his arm tighten around her in response.

  ‘I will make sure you are in no danger Mistral. The Rochfortes want you alive; you are of no use to their plans otherwise. However, we need to have completed our Contract and be ready to leave before they arrive. I’m not keen on the idea of you fighting at the best of times, and even less in your current condition,’ he paused to smile softly at her then turned to look back out across the waves, towards their unseen destination. ‘I want you to read at least two of their party,’ he continued. ‘Three would be ideal, then it would be simply too bloodthirsty for Etienne to remove the risk –’

  ‘What?’ Mistral interrupted with a shocked look. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that Etienne would have one of his own kinsmen killed just because I’d read them?’

  Fabian turned to look at her, ‘Without a doubt Mistral. They know of a Seer’s ability to read a subject remotely. It was, after all, why their plan failed the last time. They will not take that risk again.’

  Mistral dropped her gaze. She didn’t particularly care to be reminded of the hellish time she’d spent in the basement of the De Winter mansion. A sudden thought pricked at her mind, ‘But I’ve read both Etienne and Christopher before! Won’t they be worried that I’m reading them remotely?’

  ‘Yes, that’s something I’ve been thinking about too, and I’ve come to the conclusion that they must believe they can evade your gift. Both were fairly adept at controlling their thoughts when the Divinus was reading them last year. It is also possible they believe you have not yet developed your gift enough to be able to read subjects remotely; it took the Divinus several years to master that aspect of Sight.’

  ‘Well they’re right about me not being able to read remotely when it comes to them.’ Mistral sighed then frowned. ‘I can’t believe that they’d kill any kinsmen I managed to read just to prevent me from reading them remotely! Talk about double standards! Etienne and Christophe must know I read them at the Council last year, and they can’t be sure that I can’t read them remotely. By rights those two should kill themselves to eradicate the risk!’

  Fabian laughed shortly, ‘That would be most convenient, but I sincerely doubt it will happen. And as for you being able to See Etienne and Christophe remotely, I be
lieve that will change when we reach France. I’m sure being in closer proximity to them will allow to you access their thoughts.’

  Mistral sighed at the promise of more fun subjects to read, ‘So back to the timescale ... how much time can we spend herding up the unicorns?’ She asked quickly to bring the subject round to something more positive.

  ‘By my estimation, three days. That should give the Rochfortes enough time to send a small reconnaissance party out provide you with an opportunity to read them. Then we must leave immediately for the port. If we remain any longer we will run the risk of Etienne sending in the full might of the Rochforte army. If that happens I don’t fancy our chances, not even by Xerxes’ usually over-ambitious reckoning.’

  Mistral smiled. Suddenly thinking of her brothers and the Valley she remembered her earlier promise and turned to Fabian, her smile morphing into a resigned expression. ‘Would you like me to read Malachi?’

  Fabian nodded, ‘And Leo.’

  Quelling a wave of resentment at the prospect of spending the next hour inside the mind of a morbid half-vampire then her emotionless brother-in-law, Mistral settled herself more comfortably against Fabian’s side and cleared her mind of all thoughts, preparing to See.

  Gleacher was even more taciturn than usual at dinner, which, thanks to Fabian’s request, was roast boar. Mistral was pleased to be able to give the meal her full attention and not be required to try and join in the non-existent conversation. Fabian seemed unperturbed by the silence at the dinner table, watching Mistral with an amused expression while she demolished two servings of meat. By contrast Gleacher ate nothing and stared broodingly out at the moonlit sea. Quickly refusing the desert she was offered with a repulsed look, Mistral was relieved that Fabian also turned down his portion; it had looked suspiciously like the same sweet, honey-coated cakes they had been served at the Divinus’ funeral banquet.

  ‘Still can’t abide the sight of honey?’ Fabian asked.

  ‘Please don’t mention that word around me!’ Mistral grimaced and reached out for her glass of water.

  The ship’s captain entered the galley and spoke softly to Gleacher. The room was so quiet that Fabian and Mistral could hear every word. ‘We have been fortunate with the winds Master Shacklock. I expect to dock shortly after dawn. Do you have any specific instructions?’

  Gleacher’s grey eyes swivelled over to meet Fabian’s, ‘Keep the ship ready for immediate departure. I want you to take the crew into the local tavern on the second day. Have the appearance of being drunk and inadvertently allow the reason for our presence to become known to the locals, and then return to the ship and be prepared for a fight.’

  If the captain considered any of Gleacher’s instructions unusual he gave no sign but merely nodded and left the room as quietly as he had entered. Fabian shared a brief look with Gleacher before turning back to Mistral. Finding her picking at the last slice of meat on the platter he raised his eyebrows in an expression of amusement. ‘Would you like any more to eat? Only I am sure the cook could roast another boar if you so wish.’

  ‘Thank you, but I am replete.’ Mistral feigned a prim look and then patted her full stomach contentedly. ‘Or I should say; we are replete.’

  Gleacher glanced sharply at Mistral. A shadow crossed his face before he turned to Fabian, speaking for the first time that evening. ‘Your plan is foolish De Winter. You risk too much to satisfy a personal obsession!’

  Mistral was surprised by the anger in his voice. She’d been under the impression that he and Fabian had ironed out all of their differences.

  ‘You are the Ri’s Contracts Officer Gleacher and neither my Agent nor my conscience! I fail to see how this matter affects you!’ Fabian snapped back.

  ‘Your wife is with child! She should be safe in the Valley, not being used as bait for the Rochfortes!’

  Fabian sprang to his feet so quickly that he was already leaning across the table before Mistral heard the chair hit the floor. In a heartbeat Gleacher was also standing, glaring angrily at him across the narrow table.

  ‘Bait?’ Fabian repeated softly. ‘You accuse me of using my own wife, whose condition I am well aware of, as bait?’

  Gleacher glared icily at Fabian, leaning across the table to push his face closer, spitting his words out with venom. ‘You have been more blessed than you deserve De Winter! Despite the life you have led you have a wife and now a child, yet you would chance it all just to satisfy some blood feud!’

  ‘I care nothing for the feud between the tribes of Rochforte and Noble, only for the future! Etienne conspires to control the Isle, and what of our lives then Gleacher? Will the Ri exist under such puritanical rule? I agree that I have been more blessed than I ever thought possible with the life I now have, but it will be over before my son is born if I do not act! Make no mistake! The Rochfortes will attempt to seize control from Mage Grapple, and we need to know Etienne’s plans or the Isle will fall!’ Fabian held Gleacher’s gaze for a long moment before speaking again in a calmer voice. ‘Mistral is the only Seer on the Isle. If there were any other alive I swear it would be them with me now, and not her.’

  A silence fell while Gleacher and Fabian continued to lock glares across the table, ‘If you persist on going through with your plan then I must insist on accompanying you.’ Gleacher said finally.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Forget your pride De Winter! If it comes to a fight you will be outnumbered!’

  ‘It will not come to a fight. A Rochforte party only need to be within Mistral’s range of vision for her to read some of them. They will not be within sword range and cannot risk arrow fire. Etienne wants Mistral alive, not dead.’

  Gleacher shook his head angrily, ‘The risk is too great! I must come with you! If –’

  ‘No, Gleacher. You must stay.’ Fabian cut across him in a hard voice. ‘It is my name on the Contract, not yours. Your task is to keep the ship and the crew kept ready to sail. A swift exit will be vital to our success.’

  Gleacher let out an angry breath, ‘I think you’re making a dangerous mistake, but as you rightly point out; it’s not my name on the Contract –’ he paused and when he spoke again his voice was bitter. ‘If our roles were reversed, I would not chance what you have.’

  ‘Then we would look forward to an Isle ruled by Rochfortes. I bid you goodnight.’

  Abruptly taking Mistral by the hand, Fabian pulled her to her feet and strode swiftly from the room, towing her along behind him. Forced to practically run in order to keep up with his angry strides, Mistral felt her stomach contract queasily. ‘Er, Fabian,’ she clenched her teeth together to try and halt the wave of nausea.

  Fabian did break stride or turn around to look at her, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Can we slow down? I feel a bit –’

  He immediately stopped and spun around to face her, his expression contrite, ‘Oh, Mistral, forgive me! Do you feel ill?’

  ‘Running on a full stomach … not so good.’

  Fabian closed his eyes and sighed, opening them again to gaze at her sorrowfully, ‘I allowed my temper to get the better of me. Please allow me to make amends.’

  Lifting her carefully into his arms, he carried her along the corridor to their room at a much slower pace. Mistral sighed and laid her head onto his shoulder, murmuring the question she wanted to hear the answer to in words, not thoughts. ‘Please tell me what all that was about. I don’t understand why Gleacher was getting so riled.’

  Fabian didn’t reply straight away. Frowning, Mistral tilted her head slightly to look up at him but he refused to meet her gaze and continued to stare fixedly ahead. ‘Fabian?’

  Fabian’s reply was terse, the words clipped, as though he hated speaking them, ‘Gleacher once had a wife. She died in childbirth, along with their son.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mistral laid her head back against Fabian’s shoulder while she absorbed the tragic piece of Gleacher’s past. ‘So was angry with you because –’

  ‘He feels that I am risking
your life with my plan.’ Fabian finished quietly. They had reached their cabin; Fabian opened the door with her still in his arms and carried her over to the bed. Placing her gently down in the middle he turned to close the door, pausing there with his back towards her. ‘Gleacher is right. I am so blinded by my own selfishness that I would risk you. Please ... forgive me Mistral.’ He turned to her, the expression on his face so tortured that Mistral immediately slid from the bed and ran over to him.

  ‘No! No, you’re not selfish! I am! Coming to France was my choice, and I’m here because I have to be … not just to be with you, but for our son. I want him to have a future Fabian! He – he will be a half-breed –’

  Fabian’s arms tightened around her, ‘I know.’

  And suddenly Mistral realised why Fabian was so obsessed by the Rochfortes. Not out of a desire for revenge, but because of their son; their half-breed son. He would never be allowed to remain on the Isle under a Rochforte rule but would be forced into exile in order to survive, or worse, killed before he even had the chance to flee. She felt a surge of fierce protectiveness towards the unborn life within her, startling in its depth and savagery, filling her with unequivocal certainty that there was nothing she would not do to protect him. Her eyes darkened with fury at the faceless tribe of Rochforte and the threat they posed to her child.

  ‘I swear I will do anything to assure our son’s future Fabian! I will slit the throat of each Rochforte in turn and the pluck the thoughts from their fading minds if I have to!’

  The tension in Fabian’s face abruptly softened. He looked down at her angry expression and lifted a finger to gently stroke her cheek. ‘My tigress.’

  Mistral gazed up at him, her vitriolic mood melting beneath the warmth of his dusky gaze, ‘I mean it Fabian. I’m prepared to do whatever we need to for this to work. Reading a couple of Rochfortes is nothing,’ she paused, adding in a more hopeful tone, ‘can’t we kill a few while we’re at it, just to even things out a bit?’