The Golden Door by Emily Rodda Read Free Book Online

where this journey was going to end.
    The Keep.
    One step closer , he caught himself thinking. He glanced quickly at his mother, as if somehow she might have sensed his thoughts. But Lisbeth was staring into space, rocking slightly with the movement of the cart.
    Rye looked down at the bundle of clothes pressed against his knees. A smooth, sturdy stick was threaded under one of the bundle’s fastening straps. It was a stick from the ravaged bell tree. He had picked it up and carried it away with him out of his need to keep some remembrance, some small part of home.
    Only now did it occur to him that it could be a weapon.
    He slid the stick from beneath the strap and felt its weight. He felt how well it fit into his hand. A nervous fluttering began in his stomach.
    Do not think of it , he told himself. They will not let you go. You are too young.
    He thought the same that night as he lay trying to get to sleep in the small, hot room of the roadside inn at which the cart had stopped just before sunset. And waking at dawn, hearing his mother turn restlessly in her narrow bed on the other side of the room, he berated himself for even thinking of leaving her alone, for any reason.
    You are all she has left , he thought. The Warden would never allow you to be separated.
    But about this, at least, he was to find that he was quite wrong.
    They arrived at the Keep when the sun was high in the milky sky. The ancient fortress bulged from the Wall like a blister of stone. Towering over the little houses of Westwall, it looked exactly like the pictures Rye had seen of it, right down to the two huge brown animals standing on either side of the gateway with Keep soldiers perched on their backs.
    “Mother, look!” Rye whispered in awe. “Look at the horses!”
    But Lisbeth had seen the famous Keep horses as a girl and could not spare a glance for them now. She was carefully reading the sign that stood before the gateway.

    The great paved courtyard was a confusion of people. Some were rushing about importantly with folders under their arms. Most seemed to be standing in line or just milling around aimlessly. Children clad in shabby red — the “Keep orphans,” no doubt — ran in and out, looking very much at home.
    In the center of the courtyard was a bell tree, very old and gnarled and bearing only a few dry, speckled fruit. A fence of metal railings surrounded it. The label on the railings read:

    Lisbeth and Rye turned away from the tree, their hearts aching with sad memories of home. In silence, they joined the other needy citizens standing in line before the door marked “Information.” The line was long and moved slowly.
    When at last they reached the pleasant-faced woman at the desk beyond the door, Lisbeth told their story and showed the two gold badges.
    The woman filled in a form while they waited in silence. Then she filled in another. When she had finished, she looked up brightly and told Lisbeth thatshe could have work in the Keep kitchens and a bed in the women’s dormitory. Rye would be sent to Welds Center to work in the fields.
    “The Center!” Lisbeth gasped, drawing Rye closer to her. “But surely … surely we can stay together?”
    “Sadly, that is impossible,” the woman said briskly, smiling and shaking her head. “There is no suitable work for your son in the Keep. But do not fear. He will have all the care and discipline he needs in the boys’ camp in the Center. It will be the making of him!”
    “If Rye goes to the Center, I must go there, too,” Lisbeth said.
    The woman behind the desk suppressed a sigh. Her smile stayed in place, but Rye could feel her irritation.
    “There is no work for you in the Center, Citizen,” she said patiently. “You must understand that we do our best to help all those in need, but they cannot be a burden to others. They must work for their keep.”
    “I know that!” Lisbeth cried, color mounting on her cheeks. “We are very willing to work, but —”
    The