Read Online Guardians of the Keep: Book Two of the Bridge of D'Arnath by Carol Berg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carol Berg
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lit the candles that Nellia had sent on the tray, adding their perfume to the scent of balsam
that filled the air.
“A joyous Long Night, Philomena,” I said, “and to you, Gerick.”
Philomena sighed. Gerick bowed politely, but didn’t say anything. One couldn’t expect too much.
Gerick sat on the edge of his mother’s bed while I pulled up a chair. I poured the wine and shared
around the roasted duck, sugared oranges, and cinnamon cakes. There was no conversation, but no
hostility either. When we were finished eating, Gerick and I moved the table out of the way. Philomena
frowned and said, “Aren’t you planning to read tonight?”
“On the contrary . . .” From my pockets I pulled two wrapped parcels and gave one to each of them.
I had ordered the two books from a shop in Montevial. Philomena’s was an exotic Isker romance, and
she insisted I begin it immediately. Gerick’s was a manuscript about Kerotean swordmaking, so
beautifully illustrated that I had hesitated to give it to him. I hated the thought that he might destroy it
because it came from me. But while I read to Philomena, he sat cross-legged on her bed turning every
page. His cheeks glowed in the candlelight.
When he closed the book at last, he jumped off the bed. I paused in my reading while he pecked his
mother on the cheek. “Excuse me, Mama. I’m off to bed.” Then, his eyes not quite settling on me, he
made a small gesture with the book. “It’s fine. Thank you.” Tucking the book securely under his arm, he
ran off, leaving me feeling inordinately happy. Even Philomena’s gleeful report on his most recent demand
that I be sent away did not spoil it.
A mere two days before the turning of the year and Covenant Day, I took my afternoon walk on the
south battlement, forced to confine myself to the castle because of a snowstorm that had raged
throughout the day. The wild whirling snow made me dizzy, and a sudden gust sent me stumbling toward
the crumbling southernmost cornice. As I grabbed the cold iron ring embedded in the stone, thanking the
ancient guardian warriors for protecting the daughter of Comigor yet again, I began to feel a burning
sensation in the region of my heart. I thought I had frosted my lungs or developed a sudden fever in them,
or perhaps something I’d eaten was bothering my digestion.
Before going back inside, I pulled on the silver chain about my neck as was my custom when I was
alone, drawing Dassine’s talisman from my bodice, expecting to find it cold and dull as always. But, as
the storm wind whipped my hair into my face, the snow swirled about me in a rose-colored frenzy,
picking up a soft glow from the translucent stone, banishing all thoughts of storms or loneliness or difficult
children. I wrapped my cold fingers about the stone until my hand gleamed with its pink radiance, and I
relished every moment of that burning, for I had been assured that when the stone grew warm and
glowed with its own light, Karon would arrive with the next dawn to visit me.
CHAPTER 4
I could not remember feeling so anxious in all my life, not when I was first presented at court, not on
the day I was married. I knew so much of this man who was coming, all those things that had drawn me
to him even when I believed him a stranger. Yet I was not foolish enough to think a man could die in
agony, be held captive for ten years as a disembodied soul, and be brought back to life in another
person’s body without being profoundly changed. So much less difficult had been my own lot, and I was
not the same person I had been. He was my beloved, and he was alive beyond all hope, but I was very
much afraid.
What would he be like? Though his soul was unquestionably my husband’s, Dassine had said that
D’Natheil would always be a part of him as well. I had seen the conflict between Karon’s nature and the
instincts and proclivities of the violent, amoral Prince of Avonar that remained in that body. How
that filled the air.
“A joyous Long Night, Philomena,” I said, “and to you, Gerick.”
Philomena sighed. Gerick bowed politely, but didn’t say anything. One couldn’t expect too much.
Gerick sat on the edge of his mother’s bed while I pulled up a chair. I poured the wine and shared
around the roasted duck, sugared oranges, and cinnamon cakes. There was no conversation, but no
hostility either. When we were finished eating, Gerick and I moved the table out of the way. Philomena
frowned and said, “Aren’t you planning to read tonight?”
“On the contrary . . .” From my pockets I pulled two wrapped parcels and gave one to each of them.
I had ordered the two books from a shop in Montevial. Philomena’s was an exotic Isker romance, and
she insisted I begin it immediately. Gerick’s was a manuscript about Kerotean swordmaking, so
beautifully illustrated that I had hesitated to give it to him. I hated the thought that he might destroy it
because it came from me. But while I read to Philomena, he sat cross-legged on her bed turning every
page. His cheeks glowed in the candlelight.
When he closed the book at last, he jumped off the bed. I paused in my reading while he pecked his
mother on the cheek. “Excuse me, Mama. I’m off to bed.” Then, his eyes not quite settling on me, he
made a small gesture with the book. “It’s fine. Thank you.” Tucking the book securely under his arm, he
ran off, leaving me feeling inordinately happy. Even Philomena’s gleeful report on his most recent demand
that I be sent away did not spoil it.
A mere two days before the turning of the year and Covenant Day, I took my afternoon walk on the
south battlement, forced to confine myself to the castle because of a snowstorm that had raged
throughout the day. The wild whirling snow made me dizzy, and a sudden gust sent me stumbling toward
the crumbling southernmost cornice. As I grabbed the cold iron ring embedded in the stone, thanking the
ancient guardian warriors for protecting the daughter of Comigor yet again, I began to feel a burning
sensation in the region of my heart. I thought I had frosted my lungs or developed a sudden fever in them,
or perhaps something I’d eaten was bothering my digestion.
Before going back inside, I pulled on the silver chain about my neck as was my custom when I was
alone, drawing Dassine’s talisman from my bodice, expecting to find it cold and dull as always. But, as
the storm wind whipped my hair into my face, the snow swirled about me in a rose-colored frenzy,
picking up a soft glow from the translucent stone, banishing all thoughts of storms or loneliness or difficult
children. I wrapped my cold fingers about the stone until my hand gleamed with its pink radiance, and I
relished every moment of that burning, for I had been assured that when the stone grew warm and
glowed with its own light, Karon would arrive with the next dawn to visit me.
CHAPTER 4
I could not remember feeling so anxious in all my life, not when I was first presented at court, not on
the day I was married. I knew so much of this man who was coming, all those things that had drawn me
to him even when I believed him a stranger. Yet I was not foolish enough to think a man could die in
agony, be held captive for ten years as a disembodied soul, and be brought back to life in another
person’s body without being profoundly changed. So much less difficult had been my own lot, and I was
not the same person I had been. He was my beloved, and he was alive beyond all hope, but I was very
much afraid.
What would he be like? Though his soul was unquestionably my husband’s, Dassine had said that
D’Natheil would always be a part of him as well. I had seen the conflict between Karon’s nature and the
instincts and proclivities of the violent, amoral Prince of Avonar that remained in that body. How
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