Free Sword of Camelot by Gilbert L. Morris Page A

the spear back and, as the boar launched himself again, took aim. And the razor-sharp blade found its target. Reb was thrown to one side, and he felt the rip of a mighty tusk along one forearm as the spear fell from his hands.
    He's got me—I'm a goner! he thought wildly. The boar's heavy weight fell on him, and he gave up all hope.
    Then the weight was being lifted, and through the mist he heard Josh saying, “You all right, Reb?”
    Reb sat up and wiped the blood from his face. “He must have torn my head off,” he said dazedly.
    â€œThat's not your blood,” Loren said, awe on his face. “That's the boar's blood.”
    By this time, King Dion was there with the queen. “How is he?” the king asked anxiously.
    â€œI'm all right, I reckon,” Reb said thickly. But then pain stabbed his arm, and he held it up. “I did get nicked a little here.”
    Princess Elaine knelt beside him. “We've got to tie that up. He's bleeding badly.”
    Reb sat looking at the huge pig, then began to enjoy the attention as Elaine tore one of her underskirts free and began to wrap his arm Soon the bleeding was stopped.
    She looked up and said, “Now, that's better.”
    King Dion came to stand by the young man. “My boy,” he said, “you have saved the lives of the king, the queen, and the royal princess!” He looked at Sir Gwin. “Let me have your sword.”
    The knight handed it to him, and the king said, “Kneel, Reb Jackson.”
    Without understanding what was happening, Reb struggled to his knees. He felt the touch of the sword on his shoulder, and he heard the king say, “Arise, Sir Reb!”

8
A Message from the Dark Lord
    E lmas, the Chief Interrogator of the Sanhedrin, feared few people. He was so accustomed to having his word obeyed and to seeing fear come into the eyes of his servants that it always came as a shock whenever he himself felt fear. And that terrible fear came whenever the Dark Lord summoned him.
    Now, arrayed in his crimson robe, a gold chain around his neck, a medallion bearing a strange device bumping against his chest, he entered the chamber of the Dark Lord. He found that his breath was coming faster and that his stomach began to tighten. When he was inside, he fell on his knees before the powerful being that sat in the darkness of a throne.
    â€œI am come, my Lord.”
    The Dark Lord gave him one swift look, and his lips curled. His eyes were fathomless depths of evil. There was, indeed, an aura of evil that hung like a cloud about this powerful commander of an empire.
    â€œYou have failed me again, Elmas,” the Dark Lord said, his voice ringing like a hollow bell in the chamber. “If you cannot fulfill your functions, I have others who can.”
    Elmas began to tremble. He cupped his hands together and raised them. “Oh, my lord, do not speak so. You must know that I have always obeyed your commands.”
    â€œObedience is not enough,” the Dark Lord snapped. He rose from his throne, tall, dark, somber, wearing a black robe with a hood that shielded most of his features. Only the red gleam of his eyes and the cruel lips werevisible. “I have commissioned you twice for a mission concerning these accursed Sleepers. Both times you have failed me.”
    â€œIt was not my fault.” Elmas's teeth chattered. “Goel aided them—”
    â€œGoel! You know I have forbidden anyone to utter that name!” The Dark Lord moved close, reached down, and caught the quaking priest by the throat. He jerked him up, almost spitting out the name. “‘Goel. The house of Goel will be filled.’” He shook Elmas as a terrier shakes a rat. “Next you will be joining this uprising that is trying to bring Goel and his pitiful servants to rule in Nuworld.” He glanced callously at the swollen face of Elmas, then shoved him away.
    Elmas fell backward, clawing at his throat. The