Waterborne Exile by Susan Murray Page A

settlement. Hastily he checked over his shoulder to be sure his hiding place was secure, and breathed a sigh of relief. One of the elders was making his way along the path, leaning on a wooden staff to keep the weight off an ageing hip.
    The grizzled beard marked him out as old Brennan. Brett’s father raised his head and turned away from the grave.
    “Ah, Brennan, I should have known you’d be the first.” Smiling, he walked over to meet Brennan on the path, and accompany him to the area where various stones had been set out as rudimentary seats. Marten helped him settle on a boulder, but remained standing himself, pacing restlessly. There was no sign of anyone else on the path. Were they waiting for more?
    “Jenna said she would join us if she could, but Virrin’s time is close and she’s far from well.”
    “I’m sorry, I did not know. May the Hunter and the Goddess together protect her.”
    “Your good wishes are welcome, Marten, but your apology is unnecessary.”
    “No, I should have known. I’ve been away too long. I’ve returned to find my children grown into full men I scarce recognise. And all for what, Brennan? Was it worth it?”
    Brennan tilted his head. “The lady queen is safe, is she not? You hold an important card, however the gods deal the next hands.”
    “But Brennan, was it worth it?” Marten turned about again, moving closer to the boulder where Brett crouched in hiding. “I took her into such a nest of vipers at the summer palace. I could not have lived with myself had I left her there. And even at the end I was fool enough to believe Tresilian might be persuaded to honour his word. No, I will admit to you things there went from bad to worse so swiftly I was caught badly unprepared. I count myself fortunate to have escaped with my life.”
    “You know there are many who will say it is what you deserve for treating with the landbound.”
    “But they still have all the advantages, Brennan. We cannot fight them by traditional means, so we must persuade them by other methods.”
    “Again, there are those who will say we need neither fight nor persuade them, but simply carry on as we have been.”
    “What, have they talked you round to their way of thinking in my absence?”
    Brennan laughed. “I’m not such an old relic, Marten, as well you know. If we do not embrace change, the freemerchant ways will be as nothing in another generation. We will be swept away like sand from the rock face here, leaving no trace but the dust of our passing.”
    Marten paused in his pacing to and fro. “Some would say that would be better than changing.”
    “I never shall. And nor will you. Plenty agree change is necessary.”
    “And have any agreed to have their children taught to wield an edged weapon?”
    The old man shook his head. “You might have led them by example there.”
    “Rina wasn’t keen. I would have taken the boys to Highkell to be fostered there a while, but… she wasn’t keen on that, either. I confess as things worked out it is as well they were safe here. My friend, it’s such a mess.”
    “Rina will come round eventually. She always does – her bark’s worse than her bite.”
    “Not this time. She thinks a broken queen is a poor gift to bring her after such a long absence. I cannot help but see her side of things.”
    Brett had never heard his father sound defeated before. He was used to hearing laughter, larger-than-life plans and ambition to match. But he had a bit more insight into what his parents had been talking over in the night – and the tense time before his father had left the year before. There had been much talk about travelling to Highkell and seeing how the landbound lived there. He’d been bitterly disappointed when the time came for the caravan to depart and he and Malcolm were not part of it. Hearing that may have been Rina’s doing… No, he didn’t want to dwell on that.
    His father and Brennan continued to speak in low voices, but a slight