EXILE'S RETURN

by Kate Jacoby

Seaton glared at him for a moment then without another word turned and stalked out of the tent.

  Blair sighed into the silence and glanced at Robert. “I’m sorry about that. Those lands had been in his family four generations. There’s been quite a lot of that sort of thing happening lately. Seaton’s still bitter about it.”

  Robert remained where he stood, his eyes still on the door where Seaton had gone. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Blair came across the room and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Will you spend the night with us here? It’s the least I can do after the trouble my men caused you.”

  Robert shook his head. “No, thank you. I want to get a little further before we make camp. We’ve still got a long journey ahead of us. I want to cross the mountains before the first snows.”

  “Well, it’s good to have you back, anyway. My men will have your horses ready.”

  Oliver stood, “I’ll walk you out, Robert.”

  Saying goodbye to Blair, they left the tent. Micah went off to retrieve the horses, leaving Finnlay, Robert and their uncle alone in the centre of the compound.

  Robert was silent for a moment then murmured, “Well?”

  Oliver raised his eyebrows and ran a hand through his mane of hair. “Please don’t jump to conclusions, Robert. There’s so much you don’t know. A lot has happened while you’ve been away. I beg you, be patient before you act.”

  “Act?” Robert arched an eyebrow. “I have no intention of doing anything. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did Seaton lose those lands? And why are you here? And the others? What’s this all about? What conclusions, exactly, do you want me to avoid?”

  “Look, Robert,” Oliver leaned forward, his voice dropping, “if I were you, I would stay clear of Blair and Seaton for a while. At least until you have a better idea of how things lie.”

  “Is this a warning?”

  “No, nothing like that. But as for that other thing...”

  “What other thing?”

  Oliver waved his hands irritably. “You know very well what I mean. You’d never heard about Seaton losing those lands and I doubt your brother here told you either. You picked it out of Seaton’s thoughts. Don’t try to deny it—I’ve known you too long. I don’t know what things you got up to while you were away but you can’t continue to do them now. Not if you intend to live long enough to get into any real trouble.”

  “But I...”

  The old man frowned. “I know what you are, Robert—you and your brother. Fortunately, I don’t think anyone else knows and for that I thank the gods alone. But whatever you do, I beg you to be careful. If not for your sake, then at least for your mother’s.”

  The moon was long gone behind a swathe of clouds before Finnlay heard Robert call a halt at the bottom of a narrow gully. He was glad. Tired, cold and saddle-weary, he slid down from his horse and let it drink from the shallow stream. In the darkness, he could only just make out the faces of his brother and Micah. Both looked equally tired. He would have to broach the subject of Oliver’s extraordinary revelation in the morning.

  On the other hand ... “I suppose,” Finnlay murmured, “the good side was that you at least found those ruins.”

  Micah managed a weary chuckle but Robert turned swiftly and pointed a finger directly at Finnlay’s chest. “Not one word, brother. Take this as clear warning—not one, single, solitary word. For once in your life, have the sense to know when to leave something well alone.”

  Taken aback, Finnlay spread his arms, the image of innocence. “I wasn’t going to say anything, Robert, honest.”

  “I’m going to say this just once, brother, so listen very carefully. I have not come back to Lusara to return to court—or to join the Enclave. I don’t know what Seaton and Blair are up to and I don’t want to know. If you wish to get involved, then that’s your problem. But I will not now, nor ever, become involved in it all again. I’m going home and I intend to stay there. If you can’t live with that, then I suggest you think about taking up permanent residence at the Enclave—or learn to keep your mouth shut. I suspect the former is more likely than the latter. Any questions?”

  Finnlay let out the breath he’d been holding and did his best to meet Robert’s gaze. “Just one. Why?”

  For a second, he actually thought Robert might answer but instead, his brother burst out laughing. “Why? Is that all? Is that the best you can do? Oh, Finnlay, really.”

  As Robert turned away, Finnlay pursued him. “It may be a lame question but I still want an answer. Why? Why did you go? Why come back and why are you determined to turn your back on everything you care about?”

  “But you said I cared about nothing,” Robert replied offhandedly, reaching up to unsaddle his horse.

  “By the gods, Robert—just answer the damn question! Why?”

  “You don’t really want to know. You’re just hoping that in my reasons you’ll find something you can use to change my mind about the Enclave.” He paused and turned around to face Finnlay properly. There should have been disdain in his eyes but there was nothing—not even patience. Just a dead, flat and unbroken facade. When he spoke again it was into a cold silence.

  “Trust me, Finn, it doesn’t matter. Not only do I not want to Stand the Circle—but I cannot. I had hoped you’d understand that by now. You, the Enclave and indeed the whole country will have to learn to get along without me. Believe me, it’s better this way. And it’s better too, that you even forget that I am a sorcerer.”

  So there it was. The declaration. Even as the words were spoken, Finnlay felt the finality behind them, like a wall of stone for ever separating them. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, of disappointment and futility. All the hopes he’d held for the past few days drained away from him and he felt empty and cold. Robert may have returned to Lusara, but this return was a greater rejection than his exile had ever been.

  Finnlay couldn’t look at him any more. He was afraid to. Instead, he turned back to his horse, words of acceptance on his lips. But he never got to say them. At that moment Micah moved, his voice hushed.

  “My lord?”

  As Finnlay looked up, Micah pointed towards the forest, his face stern with warning. “Someone’s coming.”

  Chapter 3

  Micah heard the horse coming towards them at a stumbling gallop, but he couldn’t see anything through the pitch black forest. And there was another sound too, one further behind—

  “A chase,” he murmured. “Your uncle?”

  Robert turned swiftly. “No. Something else. Get the horses back from the water.”

  Seconds later a horse crashed through the undergrowth and pounded across the stream, sending sheets of water into the air. On seeing them the animal reared, but its rider fought and won control. Without hesitating, Micah stepped forward and grabbed hold of the bridle while a voice above him gasped out, “Please help me! Robbers ... chasing me. Please ... need to hide.”

  Instantly, Robert moved. “Come down off there. Micah, help her up that tree. Quickly!”

  The girl jumped down. Micah lifted her on to the lower branch and stepped back. She was invisible in the darkness. He turned around to find his master had already sent the horse on its way. Finnlay had tied their own horses up and was sitting casually with his back to a tree stump. With a nod, Micah grabbed an armful of firewood from the forest floor and squatted down to prepare a fire—as though he’d been there all along.

  He was just in time, too. The forest opposite them parted again and three horses sped across the stream, coming to a stumbling halt in front of his master. But these men were not robbers. All three riders wore the unmistakable yellow blaze of the Guilde.

  “Did you see a rider come through here?” their leader demanded, gruff and out of breath. “Moments before us? A criminal and horse thief?”

  Robert placed his hands on his hips and nodded slowly. “Certainly did. Rode right past us, headed that way. He nearly knocked us down.”

  “That way?” the man po
inted in the direction Dunlorn had sent the horse.

  “Yes. I hope you can follow its tracks. People like that should be stopped.”

  “Right, come on!” As one, the soldiers turned and took up their pursuit, but Robert stayed where he was until the sound of the horses disappeared into the night. Then, with a warning glance at Micah, he called up to the girl, “Come down. Quickly. Finn, get that saddle back on my horse. They could return any minute.”

  Micah wasted no time and rounded up their horses, coming back to his master. “What next? These poor animals are too tired for flight.”

  “I know. Take them and the girl further up this gully. There’s bound to be a cave or something you can shelter in. Finnlay, go with them. Try to keep the horses quiet and no talking until I return.”

  “And if they come back, my lord?”

  Robert gave him a lopsided smile. “Just go, Micah. Now.”

  Micah nodded and led the others along the stream. Limestone walls rose on either side of them, covered in clumps of determined bushes. The night was so dark, Micah had a lot of trouble keeping to their path, finding eventually that it was easier to walk along the stream bed instead. He scanned both sides of the rising cliffs but could see nothing of any use. Then Finnlay tapped his shoulder.

  “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 feather-touch of excitement, remind him of the boy he’d once been. What was the rest of the quote?