Free The Sword of Aradel by Alexander Key Page B

overhead were more distinct.
    As they hurried toward the great oak, she asked, “Did you wet your head, Sir Brian?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œSo did I. It sharpens the senses better than Nysa’s tea.” Then, lapsing into English, which she did on occasion: “Thou fearest not what dreadful pass lieth ahead of us this fateful morn?”
    â€œIt—it’s only normal to fear the unknown. But I’ve awakened to fear so many times at the abbey that I’ve become used to it.”
    â€œI know. You’ve been beaten, cut and jabbed with swords, flogged … I—I used to cry sometimes when Uncle Benedict told me what they’d done to you. He—he lived in fear that you would be killed, and he watched over you all the time. Yet he told us that what you were going through was for the best. That it would make you tough and strong.”
    Merra stopped and caught her lip between her teeth. They had reached Nysa’s tree. Now she looked up, and in a voice that did not sound quite steady, repeated the rhyme for entrance. As she did so, Tancred flew down and alighted on her shoulder. Before Brian could pull his wits together and begin asking questions, they were inside.
    Brother Benedict, up but not quite awake, was sitting on a bench frowning uncertainly at Nysa, who was putting food on the table. At the sight of them the monk’s frown deepened, and Nysa began pouring tea.
    â€œYou have only a few minutes,” she said. “Sit down and eat. You should eat all you can, for it may be impossible to obtain food until you return.”
    â€œWhat is all this?” Brother Benedict asked, suddenly coming awake. “Where are they going at this hour, Nysa? What about the formula?”
    â€œThe formula has been solved, Benedict. That is, as much as it can be solved until they try it out. Merra was awake most of the night, going over it with our sisters of the grove. It will take her almost to the sword. And it has been decided by everyone that the best time to leave is at dawn, which is almost here.”
    â€œMerciful God!” the monk whispered. He shook his head. “Sit down, you two,” he added. “Eat. And while you are replenishing yourselves, I will pray.” He bowed his head and began to mumble a prayer. It was surprising to see him do this, for he was not a devout man.
    Brian sat down near Merra. He drank some of his tea, then looked at the food and shook his head. “I—I’m not hungry.”
    â€œI’m not either,” Merra said. “It would make me sick if I ate anything now.”
    Brother Benedict finished his prayer and said quietly, “I have seen men on the eve of battle who could not eat. It is only natural, and perhaps best. But, Nysa, they will need something later. Put bread and cheese in those pouches at their belts.”
    Nysa did so. Merra fed Tancred some crumbs, then the nightingale flew up and alighted on her shoulder.
    â€œAre you taking him with you?” Nysa asked.
    â€œOf course! I—I wouldn’t think of going without him.”
    There followed a little silence. Suddenly Nysa closed her eyes and said, “I can see crimson showing in the east. It is time.” Tears stained her cheeks as she quickly embraced Merra.
    Brian, hastily buckling on his sword, was all at once enclosed in a bear hug by Merra’s uncle.
    â€œTake care of her, son!”
    â€œI will!”
    â€œGod bless you both!” The monk thrust them into the passageway that led under the hill. “We will wait here till you return.”
    Silently Brian followed Merra and Tancred into the cavelike room with the circle-covered floor. A chill went up his spine as his eyes swung to the corner where, years ago, Cerid had drawn the largest circle of all.
    Merra, without faltering, moved straight to it and stood near the center with its intricate design of triangles. Brian swallowed and took his place with his back to