The Sword of Aradel by Alexander Key Read Free Book Online

going to make it burn. But she merely waved her slender hands over it, snapped her fingers once, and bright flame rose from the coals. Soon the kettle hanging from its crane was singing merrily, and she made tea from a collection of herbs kept in jars on a shelf.
    It was a spicy, thought-stirring drink, and Brian’s mind was working swiftly before he had finished half a cup.
    â€œI have an idea,” he said abruptly.
    â€œSo have I,” said Merra. “But let us hear yours first, Sir Brian. Mine is complicated, and I—I’d rather not try it if yours is easier.”
    â€œWell, mine shouldn’t be too hard. Have you a formula that will take us to Rondelaine?”
    â€œOf course. We used it often in the past.”
    â€œWhat part of the castle will it carry us to?”
    â€œThe highest part. The top of the little watch-tower that rises above the main tower.”
    â€œIs that the same tower where your mother kept her records?”
    â€œWhy—why, yes! I see what your idea is. There are only two rooms in the tower, and hers was the upper one. It’s a tiny place, just big enough for a cabinet, a stool, and a little table where she did her calculations. She—she liked to work there because it was so hidden away that no one ever disturbed her.”
    â€œHave you been there since—since she—”
    Merra shook her head. “Not to the room. But I was in the tower only a few weeks ago to leave a message. I—I may as well tell you, Sir Brian—if you haven’t already guessed—we’ve been organizing the peasants so we’ll have an army to follow the sword. If we ever find it …”
    â€œWe’ll find it. Now tell me: It’s been five years since your mother used the room. Do you think there’s a chance her notes and records will still be there?”
    â€œI don’t see why not. It’s an awfully big place, Rondelaine, and the little room is way up high where hardly anyone ever goes. There are so many stairs to climb that Mother always went there by formula from her apartment. Anyway, anyone who went into the room wouldn’t pay much attention to a pair of old account books full of figures and symbols.”
    Brian stood frowning, rubbing his bony knuckles against the hard line of his jaw. Because of a certain grimness in his face and his thick shock of unusually pale hair, he looked at that moment more like a young Viking marauder than a former stableboy. Suddenly he said, “What is the hour?”
    Nysa, who was just beginning to dim, closed her eyes for a second and replied, “The sun is halfway down the sky. You have four hours till darkness.”
    â€œThen there is time enough. Let us go to Rondelaine.” He looked at Merra. “How do we manage it?”
    â€œWait!” said Nysa, all at once becoming sharply visible again. “It will be much safer if I go to Rondelaine instead of you two. They can see you. But I can go everywhere without anyone even suspecting …”
    â€œNo, please,” Merra said quickly, shaking her head. “We’ll be safe enough. Besides, this is a good chance to show Sir Brian how we travel. He should know a little about it before we start for the sword.”
    â€œOh, very well. I suppose you are right. But he should take his weapon, just to get used to carrying it, and it ought to be in a scabbard. Wait a minute.”
    Nysa hurried up the stairway, and returned presently with a very old and beautiful scabbard, intricately engraved, and with a band of great amethysts set in gold around the top.
    At the sight of it, Brian whistled softly. “That must have belonged to a king!”
    â€œIt has belonged to many kings,” she told him. “For generations this scabbard has held the true sword of Aradel. Cerid was forced to leave it behind because she was too small to wear it. The scabbard and the sword together would have been too difficult for