Free The Sword in the Tree by Clyde Robert Bulla Page B

up. “No, not today. Remember your wound.”
    â€œAh, yes, my wound. I’d like to have my hands on the dog who gave it to me!” said Lionel.
    He told them what had happened. “Late in the evening I was riding toward Weldon Castle. In the woods three robbers set upon me. One of them wounded me with a knife. They stole my purse, my sword and shield, and my horse.”
    â€œThere are many robbers in the land,” said Lord Weldon. “It is not safe to ride in the woods alone.”
    â€œNo gold, no horse, no sword or shield,” said Lionel. “What a poor knight am I!”
    â€œNot poor at all,” said Lord Weldon. “You are with your own people again. You have a home with us.”
    â€œMy good brother,” said Lionel. “How can I ever thank you?” And he bowed his head over his brother’s hand.

THE OAK TREE

3
    The next day Lionel asked to be taken outside.
    â€œI want to sit in the shade of the great oak tree,” he said.
    The oak tree stood in the castle garden. There were some who said it was the oldest tree in all England. Ever since Shan was a small boy, he had liked to climb it. High in its trunk he had found a hollow so large that he could nearly get inside it.
    â€œI fear the oak will die, with such a large hollow in its trunk,” Lord Weldon had said.
    But the tree was still strong and green, and each spring it put out new leaves and branches.
    Four servants carried Lionel, bed and all, into the garden. They put him down under the oak tree.
    â€œStay with him until I come back,” Lord Weldon told Shan.
    â€œWhere are you going, Father?” asked Shan.
    â€œIt is time for me to ride through my lands,” said Lord Weldon. “I want to talk with the farmers and see how the crops are growing.”
    One of the things Shan liked best was riding with his father.
    â€œI wish I could go,” he said.
    â€œSo do I,” said his father, “but your uncle doesn’t like being left alone.”
    So Shan stayed with his uncle.
    â€œIs your father gone much of the time?” asked Lionel.
    â€œOnly when he rides out through his lands,” said Shan.
    â€œDoesn’t he ever go away to war?”
    â€œThere is no war in England. These are times of peace,” said Shan. “For many years we have had no prisoners in the dungeon under our castle.”
    â€œNo prisoners? Then what do you do with your dungeon?”
    â€œNothing. I wish my father would have it filled with earth and stones. It is such an ugly place, with no window for the sun to shine in.”
    â€œYou had better keep your dungeon. You may have need of it.” Lionel sat up straight. “Look. What is that old man doing here?” He shouted in a loud voice, “Go!”
    The old man was bending over a rose bush. He did not look up.
    Lionel turned red with anger. “Bring me a stone to throw. I’ll have him out in a hurry.”
    â€œYou must do him no harm,” said Shan. “That is Nappus.”
    â€œNappus? Who is Nappus?”
    â€œHe is the one who cared for you and dressed your wound. He has a right to come to this garden. He finds snails and herbs here for his medicines.”
    â€œBut why did he not speak when I spoke to him?”
    â€œHe could not hear you,” said Shan. “Years ago he was caught in the woods by a storm. He stood under a tree, and the tree was struck by lightning. After that day, Nappus could not hear or speak. But he is very wise. There are some who say he is a man of magic.”
    â€œThen I would do him no harm,” said Lionel. “It is good luck to have such a man about the castle. Old man!” he called. “You may stay if you like . . . Oh, I forgot. He cannot hear me.”
    Shan went to Nappus. He looked among the rose bushes and found two big brown snails. He put them into Nappus’ hand.
    Nappus smiled and nodded. Then he saw Lionel and the smile