Exile's Return (Book 1) (8 page)

‘There, behind those bushes. A cave.’

With a breath of relief, Micah gained the bushes and led the horses into the cave. It turned out to be big enough to hide them all. The girl stood beside Finnlay, her eyes fixed on the cave mouth. In silence they waited, listening to the night. With a bit of luck, those soldiers might not even return.

After ten minutes however, Micah began to worry and curse himself for not staying with his master. Sure, Dunlorn was a mighty swordsman, but it was dark and he was tired. Alone, he might not be able to overcome those men if the slightest thing went wrong. Micah shot a glance across the cave to where Finnlay stood. He would know. If anything happened to his brother, Finnlay would know. At least, that’s what Micah hoped. So far, he appeared unconcerned – not that Micah could really see his face, but Finnlay hadn’t moved and that was sign enough.

The minutes dragged by until Micah was about ready to leave the cave, when he heard a splash in the water outside. He froze. His hand instantly went to his sword but Finnlay caught his eye, shook his head and visibly relaxed. Moments later, Robert stood in the cave mouth, gazing inwards.

‘Well,’ Finnlay murmured, ‘you two certainly live interesting lives.’

Micah couldn’t help laughing with relief. ‘It’s getting to be quite a habit.’

Dunlorn came into the cave and glanced about him. ‘Well, it could be worse.’

‘Considering the fact that those were Guildesmen you just lied to, brother, I don’t really see how.’

Spreading his arms expansively, Robert replied, ‘It could be snowing.’ With a grin he turned to Micah. ‘Those men won’t come back. Let’s get a fire started. I’m cold!’

With a blaze going in the middle of the cave, the horses unsaddled and stalled at the far end, Micah pulled one of the bags across to the fire and began to prepare some food. Robert sat down on the other side of the fire and reached out his hands towards the flames. With a glance in Micah’s direction, he waved the girl forward from where she stood by the cave mouth.

‘All right, child,’ Dunlorn began quietly. ‘Do you want to tell us your name?’

The girl moved forward hesitantly, glancing at each of them before taking a seat by the fire.

‘I’m more curious to know why she lied to us,’ Finnlay
grunted, taking the piece of bread Micah handed him. ‘Unless I’m mistaken, robbers don’t go around dressed in Guilde robes – although few people would be able to tell the difference.’

Robert hid a smile and turned back to the girl. ‘Well?’

She gazed at him for a moment, not speaking. Now that Micah could see her properly, he realized she was not as young as he’d first thought. Perhaps sixteen or seventeen. Nor was she dressed so poorly. Although her cloak was worn and frayed, the green dress underneath showed little signs of age, even if it was streaked with dust and mud. Her thin, oval face was tanned and made her deep blue eyes almost glow in contrast. A ragged braid of thick black hair tumbled down her back. Although she was obviously wary, the girl appeared strangely unafraid and moved with a confidence beyond her years.

‘You can speak, can’t you?’ Finnlay prompted, his patience wearing thin.

‘Yes,’ she murmured with a little laugh. ‘Of course I can – and I’m sorry I lied to you back there. My name is Jenn and I thank you for your help. I don’t think that poor horse would have taken me much further. He was already winded and stumbling when I came upon you.’

‘And why were they chasing you?’ Finnlay asked flatly.

She dropped her gaze for a moment. ‘I guess I insulted them. I’m no horse thief, I promise you.’

‘Are we supposed to believe that?’

‘Finnlay, please,’ Robert chided. Micah handed out cups of ale, then settled down with his back to the wall of the cave, his feet toasting nicely before the fire.

Finnlay took a swallow, then wiped his hand across his mouth. ‘Then that horse was yours?’

‘Not exactly. I … borrowed it.’

‘Borrowed it? From whom?’

At this, she smiled a little. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t have time to ask. When those men came at me I just leaped on the first one to hand. By then it was too late.’ The smile vanished, replaced by a frown. ‘Do you think they will have
found it by now? Do you think those soldiers will return it to its owner?’

Finnlay blinked at her unveiled anxiety. If she was trying to fool them, she was doing a very good job. However, Micah didn’t think she was. There was, after all, no reason for her to lie now – after they had helped her.

‘I don’t know,’ Dunlorn answered lightly. ‘Perhaps next time you’ll learn not to insult the Guilde. It can be dangerous. Men have been killed for less. But I’m curious. What exactly did you say to them?’

‘Well, er … have you heard the story about the hermit of Saint Cuthbert’s?’

‘By the gods,’ Finnlay rolled his eyes and leaned back on his elbows.

‘Ignore my brother,’ Dunlorn smiled companionably. ‘What hermit?’

‘I don’t know him personally, of course, but this hermit was once a Brother at Saint Cuthbert’s and has spent the last twenty years living deep in this forest. A few weeks ago he suddenly returned to the abbey and told the Abbot that he’d had a vision of Mineah – and of a dark angel who has come to the land to tear the Church in two. Having made this dire pronouncement, the hermit then left and disappeared again. As you can imagine, this story went around like wildfire. I mean, it’s been decades since anyone had a proper vision of Mineah. I even heard someone say that it means she’s about to take on human form again – just like she did five hundred years ago when the crumbling empire destroyed the last of the sorcerers. Back then, when the goddess helped the empire, they built a shrine to her in Alusia – so you can imagine how much people hope she is coming back now.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Finnlay interrupted, ‘but do we come to the Guilde somewhere in here – or is this just a history lesson?’

Jenn turned her head until she faced him squarely. ‘A pity it’s not a lesson in good manners.’

Robert burst out laughing. And while Micah chuckled, Finnlay just looked sour.

‘Never interrupt a storyteller, brother! Please, Jenn, go on.’

‘Well,’ she began again, ‘I was working at the tavern in Westmay, near the monastery. Those Guildesmen came in and started giving the innkeeper a lot of trouble. He’s a friend of mine, you see, but he couldn’t do anything to stop them. So I just told them that perhaps this dark angel in the hermit’s vision was not an angel at all, but the Guilde itself!’

Micah’s eyes widened and even Finnlay choked.

Robert shook his head in wonder. ‘By the gods my girl, but you do live dangerously!’

Jenn shrugged. ‘They’re so sour these days. I just got annoyed. I couldn’t help it.’

‘Obviously not! Were they stationed in your village? Will they be waiting for you when you go home?’

‘Oh, it’s not my home. I was just staying there for a while before I moved on. I don’t really have a home.’

Micah looked up at this. ‘No home? What about your family?’

In answer, she just raised her shoulders.

Robert frowned slightly then shot Micah a warning glance. ‘I think it’s time we all got some sleep. It’s late and I want to get moving by dawn.’

*

Bushes rustled against the cave mouth as a brisk wind whistled down the gully. It had started as a light breeze two hours before dawn but now, as the first glow touched the heavens, it warned of darker weather to come. From where he lay, he could see only a thin strip of sky still bleak with night, but on the western face of the gully opposite, he started to make out details by the light of the coming dawn. Thin, stringy plants clung tenaciously to the cliff face and draped their long roots towards the water far below as though desperate to drink.

Slow and silent, Robert pulled his blankets back and rose from his bed. Behind him, the others slept on undisturbed. He moved carefully forward to the cave opening and looked up. It was still blissfully dark but there was just enough glow
in the east to make out the shifting clouds tumbling across the sky. There would be rain later – a lot of rain.

He glanced back inside the cave. The fire was little more than a glow, banked against the morning. Around it were three bundles of black, his sleeping companions. Beyond them, standing silently in ignorant peace, were the horses.

Thus he returned in stealthy sorrow, quiet and black with the night. Unfinished and unending…

The quote was ancient, from
The Chronicle of Banderic.
Six hundred and twenty-three years old. Amazing.

Not so amazing, really. He must have read that book a dozen times by the age of fifteen. A sweeping tale of adventure and bravery, of exploration and discovery. Even now, some of those place names could conjure up a feathertouch of excitement, remind him of the boy he’d once been. What was the rest of the quote?

Imperfect and eternal, the rage unquelled in his breast, there to die a forgotten peace. Untempered flame of unholy passion will guide his path though wisdom itself will fail him at the last…

Was it really so long ago since that awful day when he’d stood before the Key, an innocent child of nine? Had the years passed so quickly that he’d not noticed? Within the age of the Enclave, it was a grain of time but to Robert, everything came down to that one moment. Those few seconds suspended at the edge of his childhood had changed his life and had brought him to where he was today, standing in a cave somewhere in Shan Moss. How could one single moment determine the course of an entire life? How had he allowed it to?

He walked forward out of the shelter. He felt the wind immediately and turned his face into it, revelling in the fresh cold touch. It had been so long since his flesh had caught a wind like that. And the smells – so familiar and yet so different. Invisible reminders pricked at his memory, touching things here and there. So much he’d forgotten. So very much.

But it hadn’t just been that one moment, had it? In all, his
life had been a series of moments, all equally to blame, all equally leading him to damnation.

No, they would leave him alone. He would make sure of it. This was one thing he would not fail at. There was nothing – absolutely nothing – they could say or do that would change his mind.

He bent down and trailed his fingers in the water, feeling them tingle and go numb. He wanted to reach out to the numbness, make it course through his veins and into his very heart. He wanted to wrap it around his soul, to drown in it. Anything that would finally grant him some peace.

But peace was not so easily gained. Three years wandering the southern lands had taught him that. There was no peace. He would just have to go on feeling, regardless of his will. He could no more stop it than tell the wind to stop blowing. It was inevitable, that failure. Just as inevitable as this return to Lusara.

Why hadn’t he seen that before? But three years ago, in the black pits of his frustration and despair – when rage had threatened to overwhelm him – thoughts of any return had been beyond him. And now looking back on it … on Berenice …

No! Not that. He would not – could not – afford to think about her.

Then what about Marcus? Faithful, exuberant, wise. Gone now. Gone before Robert had even seen him again. Gone for ever. Another friend lost, another voice silenced. A sombre welcome back to Lusara.

So – what was he to do about Finnlay? Send him on his way? Do as he asked and go to the Gathering? Or continue as he had always done and keep trying to make his brother understand. But was there anything left – any words remaining to convince his brother and all those like him that Robert was not the man they thought he was? That to put their faith in him was to guarantee failure – and worse?

But he already knew the answer. Finnlay was his brother and for all his faults, Robert loved him. As long as Robert had breath to command, he would continue trying to teach
his passionate, fiery sibling all he could. And perhaps, somewhere in there, at some point in time, Finnlay might just be able to forgive him his great crime.

Yes, forward. He must continue forward. The past was gone. The future would not be so bad that he couldn’t bear it. It only required a modicum of strength – and a cartload of determination. It could indeed be much worse.

He straightened up and turned his eyes towards the sky once more. It was almost dawn now, with that crisp grey half-light which characterized the moments just before the sun rose. That delicious moment of renewal, when the earth refreshed itself before diving into the coming day. Yes, it was time to move. He took a step back from the water – and stopped. A sound from the cave, movement and a light whispered voice.

Robert smiled. ‘I wouldn’t bother taking that horse. It’s lame.’

The girl’s face snapped around towards him in surprise. She remained frozen in the cave mouth, her hand on the horse’s bridle, then, giving in easily, she shrugged. ‘I didn’t think you would miss it.’

‘I sincerely hope you don’t make a habit of borrowing horses. Next time there may not be anyone around to rescue you. Do you?’

‘What?’

‘Make a habit of it?’

She raised her eyebrows and for a brief second, Robert had the strangest feeling that she looked familiar. The moment was fleeting however, and didn’t last long enough for him to pinpoint why.

‘You don’t look very surprised,’ she replied evenly. ‘Were you waiting for me?’

‘No, I was watching the sunrise – and you didn’t answer my question.’

‘No, I don’t make a habit of it. Despite what that Guildesman said, I’m not a thief. Look, put yourself in my place. I don’t know who you are – or why you helped me.
It’s a matter of survival, after all. For all I know, you could be murderers.’

Robert nodded deliberately. ‘Aye, we could indeed. What do you want? Back to your village?’

‘Would you take me if I asked?’

‘That would depend on how much I trusted you.’

‘Or on how much I trusted you.’

Despite his best intentions, Robert had to laugh. Jenn said nothing, merely watched him. She was no innocent, this one. Instead, she seemed to face life with a shameless bravado. ‘Where, then?’ he said.