After Feren left, John trudged back into the house, reluctant to confront the grief of the child. Instead, he found Golwin at the table in the kitchen. Cook had fed him a seed cake. He’d have to remember to thank the servant who took Golwin into the house. John sat at the table next to the boy. It was easy to see why Feren had been worried about someone in the family starving.

What could he say? What would comfort the boy, and what would make him bolt?

Golwin had finished the cake and was staring at him before John said anything.

“Did you like it?”

Golwin nodded.

“One of my favorites too. I like to eat them for breakfast, or after supper.”

Golwin said nothing.

John resisted the temptation to fidget, and then he resisted the urge to wish Feren hadn’t brought Golwin. It was what it was. But still, it would have been nicer to be reading right now.

Now there was another hunger Golwin might have. Feren had been the son of his father’s servant, a good friend to play with. John had once tried to teach Feren to read, but both fathers had discouraged it.

“Can you read?” John asked Golwin.

“Read books?”

“Books, words, anything. Can you read?”

“We couldn’t afford books,” said Golwin. “My dad copied the map strategy onto a piece of scrap fabric we had. He said the fabric was easier to take with us when we herded our goats.”

“Hmmm,” John said, “You know, I taught that game to your papa. We used to play it for hours.”

Golwin nodded. John thought he saw the child brighten a little.

“Well, let me show you something else in the library that your papa liked.”