Read Online The Extraordinary Adventures of Alfred Kropp by Rick Yancey - Free Book Online Page A

right?”
    â€œYes, King Arthur.”
    â€œThat’s just a legend, a story, Mr. Samson.”
    â€œI don’t have the time to convince you of anything, Alfred. You held it tonight. In your inexperienced hands, the Sword bested three of the finest swordsmen in the world. Yet that is only a fraction of its power. The Sword of Kings contains the power of heaven itself, Alfred, the power to create as well as to destroy. All the mortal arts of weaponry are powerless against it, but more than this, the will of ordinary men cannot withstand its might.”
    I thought of the tall monk stepping aside to let me and Uncle Farrell pass, as I held the Sword, telling him to move. The will of ordinary men cannot withstand its might.
    Mr. Samson’s eyes were shining with a faraway look, as if he was seeing things I could not see, great battles and men in gleaming armor on horseback, thundering across rolling fields.
    â€œYou asked who those men in the Towers were. Only twelve of us are left now, but they—and I—are the descendents of King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. The Sword has been in our care for centuries and, as far as I know, this is the first time we have failed to keep it from the hands of evil men.”
    â€œYou’re a knight,” I said, slowly shaking my head. “You’re telling me you guys are knights like King Arthur–type knights?”
    â€œNot those men, no,” Mr. Samson said, gesturing toward the two gray suits still at attention by the door. “Their organization did not even know of the Sword’s existence before tonight. Circumstances now demand the use of every tool at our disposal. You see, Monsieur Mogart has many powerful friends, Alfred, friends who would pay any price for a weapon against which there is no defense. And Mogart’s friends are no friends of humanity. They are despots and dictators who would pay anything to possess the Sword. Do you begin to understand? There is no weapon devised by man, no army or combination of armies, no nation or alliance of nations on earth that can resist the power of the Sword.”
    â€œMr. Myers paid my uncle to steal the Sword so he could sell it to somebody?”
    â€œTo the highest bidder, and you can guess how high those bids will go.”
    He touched my arm again, and I was surprised to see tears shining in his hazel eyes.
    â€œAnd what kinds of men will bid on it. Alfred,” he said, “an army with the Sword at its head would be invincible.”

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    â€œIt is a prize beyond any price, Alfred,” Mr. Samson said. “But Mogart can expect billions for it. Tens of billions. And if we do not find him before the Sword passes into the hands of evil men, the world will plunge into an age of unimaginable cruelty and terror. Envision the horrors of Nazi Germany or the Russia of the Stalinists, multiply them tenfold, and then you will begin to understand the magnitude of this loss.”
    The rising sun was shining now through the window on his sharp features.
    â€œWe must retrieve the Sword before this can happen. He may yet decide to keep it for his own use, but that result would not be much better.”
    â€œYou know where he is?” I asked.
    â€œI know where he is going. He has been preparing a long time for this day. Right now he is crossing the Atlantic, making for his keep in Játiva.” He saw my confused expression and gave a little laugh. “In Spain, Alfred.” He smiled at me again. “You have a thousand more questions, but I’ve stayed too long; I must go.”
    â€œDon’t go yet,” I begged. “Don’t leave me alone.”
    He patted my hand and his smile faded. “That seems to be my doom—and yours, Alfred.”
    He turned and went to the door. I jumped up and followed him.
    â€œThere’s gotta be something I can do,” I said. “Take me with you; I could help. I’m the one who lost it; I