Guardians of the Keep: Book Two of the Bridge of D'Arnath by Carol Berg Page B

getting nowhere, but at least matters were no worse.
    And then on one evening I found ink spilled over the papers on the writing desk in my study. There had
    been little of importance on the desk: a letter to my friend Tennice’s father asking for advice about roofs
    and forges, a shopping list for Nancy’s next trip to Graysteve, half a sheet of musical notation for a
    melody I was trying to remember. But of course, the value of what was destroyed was not the measure
    of the loss. Nor was it the invasion of my privacy, for I had clearly left myself open to such a violation. I
    almost laughed when I realized what bothered me so sorely. It was the lack of imagination. I had been
    consigned by a ten-year-old to the company of weak-willed tutors and spineless schoolmasters. All my
    cleverness had advanced me not a whit. I was insulted.
    Soon I found myself devising one scheme after another to crack Gerick’s shell. One day when I
    visited the tower, I brought a small wooden box that held chess pieces and unfolded into a small game
    board. I asked Gerick if he played. He nodded, but refused to have a game with me. Another day, I
    brought my knife. Surely knives were irresistible for young boys still practicing swordplay with wooden
    weapons. I made a flute from a hollow reed, proud that I got it to play passably. When I offered to show
    Gerick how to make one, he flared his nostrils in distaste. “You are a wicked, evil woman. Everyone
    knows it. Why do you stay here? Go away!” At least I had evidence he was not struck dumb by my
    presence. On another day I brought a bundle of tall meadow grass and spent an entire afternoon weaving
    figures of animals as my old friend Jonah had taught me to do when I lived in Dunfarrie. Gerick stayed,
    pretending to shoot arrows at birds, only leaving the tower once I had used up my supplies. I considered
    that a victory.
    Only one certain conclusion resulted from my activity. The boy was not afraid of me. Though he still
    maintained his reserve, he would sit on the windy parapet all afternoon, separated from me only by the
    empty firepit or a stone merlon. He watched me for hours at a time while I was at my business, though he
    knew I was aware of him. So, if fear that I might somehow ensorcel him was not keeping him silent, he
    must have some other reason, well calculated and determined. It made me look at him with new eyes.
    What could prompt a child to maintain such control?
    Not for the first time I wished I had the ability to steal the boy’s thoughts as Karon’s people could.
    Scruples prevented the Dar’Nethi from using their power without permission, but for my part, the puzzle
    of my nephew would have quickly overcome any such ideals.
    Philomena paid no attention to Gerick’s attempts to be rid of me. She was pleased with our
    arrangement, she told me. No one bothered her with tedious business, yet the house was calm, the
    servants well ordered, the food excellent, and, most importantly, it would soon be Covenant Day, and
    silver would flow into the Comigor coffers once more. “You’ve been a great blessing, Seri,” she told me
    one evening after our reading time. She had just finished detailing Gerick’s latest complaints. “I told him
    he’s acting the selfish little pig.”
    “Tell me, Philomena, have you considered getting some friend of Tomas’s to foster Gerick?”
    “Well, of course. Not that anyone I know would put up with him. One would think someone might
    offer out of sympathy, but only the captain has said he’d do it. He’s such a nosy.”
    “The captain?”
    “You know him. Tomas’s trained dog. Captain Darzid.”
    Hatred bubbled up from my depths for the immaculately groomed courtier who had stood in every
    dark place of my life. Karon’s arrest and trial. My son’s murder. Darzid had hunted the sorcerer prince
    who had come to me at midsummer, and I believed he had lured Tomas to his death, making him a pawn
    in the long war between Karon’s