Free Exile's Return (Book 1) by Kate Jacoby Page B

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, hislife 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 teachhis 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