The last of the slavers on the island of Spitsbergen were packed onto the patrol boat. They had enough diesel to reach Greenland, water and food for the journey. From the quayside Conall watched his brother stride up the gangplank. Faro’s right arm was still in a sling. The wound had almost healed, but the shoulder would never be as strong again according to their mother. It was lucky he’d missed the veins and arteries, she said. He might have killed Faro, skewering his arm like that. Conall tried to tell her there’d been no choice, but she was a mother and wouldn’t listen.
As Faro reached the top of the gangplank he kept walking, never turning to look back or wave goodbye. He hadn’t spoken to Conall in the two weeks since the fight in the seed bank. He’d turn away if Conall approached, sullen and brooding.
Faro reached the deck of the patrol boat and disappeared below.
Rufus ran around Conall’s legs, barking at him, impatient to be up and off and doing. Rabbits to chase. Holes to dig.
“All right boy, we’ll get back.” Conall turned from the harbour and began to walk.
His parents would be waiting for him at the Oduma encampment near the old airport. Conall could picture them standing hand in hand, watching the patrol boat sail up the fjord before setting off across the north Atlantic for Greenland, or Alaska, watching Faro leave their lives. And looking anxiously for the return of their dutiful, younger son.
Conall dreaded it, but he’d have to tell them soon.
≈≈≈≈
The Oduma were camped near the seed bank where they toiled to restore the stone circle and cover the entrance to the tunnels. They had captured guns and boats, tools and equipment from the slavers and would use these, Tugon said, to build defences in case the company men returned. And they would work alongside the settlers and traders, to make sure the slavers could never again divide the people of Svalbard.
Tugon had pardoned Faro. He’d pardoned Jonah, Bagatt and Proctor. Conall too, and his father, all those who had entered the sacred site. And he agreed to share the seeds: some for the Oduma, to rewild the north; some for the settlers, for their orchards and gardens; and some for the Hudsons, for their new voyage.
Conall paused to gaze at The Arkady, moored offshore, waiting to take possession of its share of the treasure.
“We go South,” Erica Hudson had told him. “The Arctic’s overrun, people fighting and feuding. Besides, The Arkady was built to sail, not sit here in Spitsbergen.” At the south pole, she said, the melting ice had left a continent, unexplored and empty. “We’ll take the seeds there, bring the land to life.”
And she’d looked up at him, over her reading glasses with those piercing eyes, and told him, if he wanted to, he could come.
All these years, he’d dreamt of reuniting his family. For two brief weeks, they were together, the four of them, while his mother nursed Faro through his recovery. Now his older brother had gone to his new family, the company that mined and dug and enslaved. And Conall would go to his. The Arkady was his home, the crew his kinsfolk. He’d stay with Heather, with the Hudsons, and Jonah and ‘Bones’ Bagatt. He’d sail the world, set off into the unknown, go exploring, free to be with the boat as long as he wished and to leave when he chose. But Heather would be there, and he guessed he’d stay a while.
His mother sobbed when he told her. His father sat stone-faced and grim. They’d lost their sons. Again. But at least they had each other. And they knew Conall and Faro were alive, making their own ways in the world. He was glad he’d come north to find them. He’d lost his brother. But he’d found himself. He’d found Heather, and a new family, a new home.
And a new adventure.
~~~~~~
The end
From the author
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About the Author
Simon Townley is a British writer and the author of a range of cross-genre novels and short stories. He lives in Devon, England. You can see his Amazon profile here.
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In The Wreckage (A Tale of Two Brothers)
By Simon J. Townley
Published by Beardale Books
http://www.beardale.com
[email protected]
Version 2014.07.14
Publisher’s note
This text uses British English spelling.
Cover design by Beardale Books
Amazon Kindle Edition
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Copyright © 2013 Simon J Townley. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.
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