Read Online Guardians of the Keep: Book Two of the Bridge of D'Arnath by Carol Berg - Free Book Online
Authors: Carol Berg
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people and the three sorcerers who called themselves the Lords of
Zhev’Na. “Darzid has offered to train Gerick?”
“Of course, I would never consider him.” Philomena fanned herself with a flat of stiff, painted paper
cut in the outline of a rose. “He’s no more than a common soldier really, not even knighted. Not at all
suitable for a duke’s companion.”
“Very true. How perceptive of you to see that a relationship with your son would be only to Darzid’s
advantage and not Gerick’s at all.”
“Gerick loathes him. He’d probably kill the man if forced to be with him. I told the captain not even to
think of it.”
I almost patted Philomena’s head that evening. I read to her for an extra hour, which put her quite to
sleep. “Your snobbery has served you well for once,” I whispered as I blew out her lamp.
Common sense told me to waste no more time trying to befriend a child who so clearly wanted
nothing to do with me, but somehow that answer was no longer acceptable. I could not shake the image
of his red-brown hair blowing wildly in the wind on the roof of the northwest tower. Whatever was
troubling Gerick had cut him off from the most basic human contact. No child should be so alone.
One morning in late fall, Allard, the head stableman, came to me with an odd story. Two days
previous, a boy had come to the stables asking for work. Being unknown to anyone, he was sent away.
“An ordinary kind of boy,” said Allard. “But yestermorn, that same boy was at the kitchen door, asking
cook for work. Cook sent him away, too, though she gave him a morsel of food as he looked so forlorn.
I hope that’s all right, ma’am, as I wouldn’t want to get cook in trouble.”
“Of course, that’s all right,” I said.
“Then last night late,” said the stableman, “I woke with the feeling that all was not right with the
horses. When I went to the stable, I found that boy again! I thought to take a whip to him, but he started
talking about how Quicksilver was getting a twist in his gut that was hurting him terrible, and how
Slewfoot had a crack in his hoof and would soon go lame if it weren’t fixed, and about how Marigold
was going to foal a fine colt, but we needed to keep her quiet as she was delicate. . . .”
I almost burst out laughing. Paulo! No other boy in the Four Realms had a feel for horses like Paulo.
It was hard to let Allard talk his worries out.
“. . . and he sounded so true, that I took a look and Quicksilver was tender in the belly just as the boy
said. All the rest was right, too. The boy is lame, which some would hold against him, but I could see as
he was a natural with the horses, far past any lad in the stable. But I didn’t want to take him on without
your say. I thought there might be something odd, as he was asking if this was where ‘the lady called Serf
was set up to run things.’”
“Allard, would it make you feel better if I were to speak to this boy before you took him on?”
Relief poured out of the man like summer ale from a barrel. “Aye, my lady. That would be just what I
was thinking.”
“Send him to me in the housekeeper’s room.”
The old man touched his forehead in respect and looked relieved to have shed the burden of the
extraordinary. I hurried to Nellia’s sitting room and shooed her away, saying I was to interview a new lad
for Allard. When Allard brought Paulo to the door, the boy grinned shyly.
“You can go, Allard,” I said. “No need to interrupt your work. Come in, young man.”
Paulo limped in, his twisting gait the result of one leg misshapen since birth. The old man bowed and
closed the door. The boy grinned shyly at me and touched his brow.
Only the certainty that Paulo would be mortified with embarrassment kept me from embracing him. I
offered my hand instead. “What in the name of the stars are you doing here, Paulo?”
“Sheriff sent me.”
Graeme Rowan, Sheriff of Dunfarrie, had sheltered the
Zhev’Na. “Darzid has offered to train Gerick?”
“Of course, I would never consider him.” Philomena fanned herself with a flat of stiff, painted paper
cut in the outline of a rose. “He’s no more than a common soldier really, not even knighted. Not at all
suitable for a duke’s companion.”
“Very true. How perceptive of you to see that a relationship with your son would be only to Darzid’s
advantage and not Gerick’s at all.”
“Gerick loathes him. He’d probably kill the man if forced to be with him. I told the captain not even to
think of it.”
I almost patted Philomena’s head that evening. I read to her for an extra hour, which put her quite to
sleep. “Your snobbery has served you well for once,” I whispered as I blew out her lamp.
Common sense told me to waste no more time trying to befriend a child who so clearly wanted
nothing to do with me, but somehow that answer was no longer acceptable. I could not shake the image
of his red-brown hair blowing wildly in the wind on the roof of the northwest tower. Whatever was
troubling Gerick had cut him off from the most basic human contact. No child should be so alone.
One morning in late fall, Allard, the head stableman, came to me with an odd story. Two days
previous, a boy had come to the stables asking for work. Being unknown to anyone, he was sent away.
“An ordinary kind of boy,” said Allard. “But yestermorn, that same boy was at the kitchen door, asking
cook for work. Cook sent him away, too, though she gave him a morsel of food as he looked so forlorn.
I hope that’s all right, ma’am, as I wouldn’t want to get cook in trouble.”
“Of course, that’s all right,” I said.
“Then last night late,” said the stableman, “I woke with the feeling that all was not right with the
horses. When I went to the stable, I found that boy again! I thought to take a whip to him, but he started
talking about how Quicksilver was getting a twist in his gut that was hurting him terrible, and how
Slewfoot had a crack in his hoof and would soon go lame if it weren’t fixed, and about how Marigold
was going to foal a fine colt, but we needed to keep her quiet as she was delicate. . . .”
I almost burst out laughing. Paulo! No other boy in the Four Realms had a feel for horses like Paulo.
It was hard to let Allard talk his worries out.
“. . . and he sounded so true, that I took a look and Quicksilver was tender in the belly just as the boy
said. All the rest was right, too. The boy is lame, which some would hold against him, but I could see as
he was a natural with the horses, far past any lad in the stable. But I didn’t want to take him on without
your say. I thought there might be something odd, as he was asking if this was where ‘the lady called Serf
was set up to run things.’”
“Allard, would it make you feel better if I were to speak to this boy before you took him on?”
Relief poured out of the man like summer ale from a barrel. “Aye, my lady. That would be just what I
was thinking.”
“Send him to me in the housekeeper’s room.”
The old man touched his forehead in respect and looked relieved to have shed the burden of the
extraordinary. I hurried to Nellia’s sitting room and shooed her away, saying I was to interview a new lad
for Allard. When Allard brought Paulo to the door, the boy grinned shyly.
“You can go, Allard,” I said. “No need to interrupt your work. Come in, young man.”
Paulo limped in, his twisting gait the result of one leg misshapen since birth. The old man bowed and
closed the door. The boy grinned shyly at me and touched his brow.
Only the certainty that Paulo would be mortified with embarrassment kept me from embracing him. I
offered my hand instead. “What in the name of the stars are you doing here, Paulo?”
“Sheriff sent me.”
Graeme Rowan, Sheriff of Dunfarrie, had sheltered the
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