Read Online The Sword of Aradel by Alexander Key - Free Book Online

yet.”
    â€œThat could be. It does take lots of power, especially for someone like myself. I mean, it’s natural for me to be visible, so I have to manage it just opposite from the way Nysa does. Anyway, I—I’d feel a lot better about going after the true sword if I could vanish easily whenever I wanted to, the way Cerid could.”
    â€œSure, it would be a help,” he admitted. “But the main thing is to get to wherever it is. What I don’t understand is why you think Brother Benedict can help us. You need a formula—but what does he know about it?”
    â€œHe knows how to cast a spell,” she said quietly.
    â€œA—a spell?” He stared at her.
    â€œYes. A spell. He’s very skilled at it.”
    â€œBut how is casting a spell going to produce the formula?”
    â€œIf he can put Nysa under a spell, he can send her mind over to—to where Cerid has gone and get the formula direct from her.”
    He stared at her again, incredulously. “Why, I—I never heard of such a thing!”
    â€œThere’s much you haven’t heard of,” she retorted, giving a faint sniff. “Uncle Benedict was rather lax in your education. Anyway,” she admitted, “Nysa is afraid it won’t work. No one has ever put a spell on one of the Dryads. After all, we do have very peculiar minds.”
    â€œYou certainly do have,” he affirmed. “Now suppose Nysa’s right, and a spell won’t work with her. What then?”
    â€œBut it’s got to work!” she wailed. “It’s just got to!”
    Brian sighed and rubbed his jaw in doubt, then studied her curiously out of the corner of his eye. With her little-girl looks and grown-up mind, her golden braids and changeable green eyes—slanting green eyes that could be full of mischief one moment, or brimming with tears or blazing with rage the next—she was the strangest person he had ever known.
    Finally he asked, “What was this trouble you were going to tell me about?”
    With the question, her mood changed on the instant. Suddenly she gave one of her gay little laughs. “The news is out about you! Sir Brian, how would you like to become a nobleman?”
    Something in him recoiled at the thought. “I’d rather be myself,” he retorted. “Don’t forget, my father was a woodcutter. Only hours ago I was a stableboy, until you knighted me—and I still think you were having fun at my expense. Anyway, knights earn their rank—but not those born with titles. They’re all so—so worthless. The abbey school was full of that sort. Spoiled and rotten! They called themselves my betters, and I despised them all!”
    â€œOh, dear me!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Then you don’t want to become a nobleman?”
    â€œNo! I just want to be myself.”
    She sniffed. “That’s really too bad. Because already the peasants are going quite wild about you. All they can talk about is the stableboy at St. Martin’s who cracked Rupert’s pate, and left Aradel without a ruler. La-de-de! Their leaders are having a secret meeting right now in the woods behind the village. They think you’ve got truly marvelous powers—already they’re calling you a count or something. They’re willing to march on Rondelaine immediately if you’ll lead them!”
    His jaw dropped.
    â€œWell?” she said, something devilish glinting in her eyes.
    â€œIs this the truth?” he demanded.
    â€œAs heaven is my witness, Sir Brian. I got it straight from Uncle Benedict, who is there talking to them now.” She shook her head in mock sadness. “And still you don’t want to be a nobleman?”
    â€œNever! But tell your uncle I’d lead them this very evening if I had the true sword—which we must have for victory—and that they can count on me the moment I get it.”
    Her laugh