The Sword of Aradel Read Free Page A

quarterstaff.
    Brian’s first impulse was to race for the main gate under the drawbridge tower. If he could get through and make it across the drawbridge, there was a good chance he could reach the fringe of forest beyond the road.
    But he had taken only a few strides when he heard Albericus giving orders. “Close the gate and raise the bridge!” the gaunt monk shouted. “Shoot him, you bowmen! Kill the wretch! Don’t let him get away!”
    A whistling arrow made Brian whirl in his tracks. He dodged behind the smithy, saw no one, and began running as fast as he could along the rear of the stable. There was a door ahead where a part of the stable joined the abbey wall. If he could get through it without being seen, he should have time to catch his breath while he planned his next move.
    The door opened almost in his face, and a big hand caught his arm and jerked him inside. It was Brother Benedict.
    â€œFollow me,” said his burly friend, and began running with surprising speed past a row of stalls and across an open storage area beyond. At the rear of it, where the roof met the abbey wall, the monk slid behind a stack of heavy timbers leaning against the masonry. Here in the shadows Brian made out a small wooden door.
    â€œBetter leave your staff,” he was advised. “You will not need it, and it will just be in your way.”
    With some reluctance Brian thrust his quarterstaff among the timbers, and followed his guide. After the door was secured behind them they were in total darkness.
    â€œWe have fifty paces to go,” Brother Benedict said. “Hold to my robe, and keep in step with me.”
    Wondering, Brian did as he was told. They seemed to be in a narrow passageway that led in a long curve through the wall. He had heard that this portion of the abbey had once been a fort, built in Roman days. Could this possibly be an old escape route?
    â€œHere we are,” Brother Benedict said finally, as a sliver of light outlined one arm. Stooping, he pulled a rough wooden cover away from an opening just large enough to crawl through. Brian peered out at the brightening day.
    His view of the moat and the world beyond it was partially obscured by a small tangle of willow shrubs that screened the spot. The moat, nearly covered with lily pads here, was only a few feet below him. Directly opposite, a larger thicket almost hid the embankment that bordered a small field.
    â€œNow you are in on our little secret,” Brother Benedict said. “Only a few of us know of this way out of the abbey.”
    â€œBut the moat—how does one cross it?”
    His guide chuckled. “On sunken planks below the lilies. Walk them carefully, or you will slip into the water as I did one night. When you have crossed and reached the field, keep your head down and follow the embankment till you come to the trees. Have no fear of being seen. There’s no one on this part of the wall at this hour, and I doubt if there’s a worker in the field, for it’s been put to pasture.”
    Brother Benedict paused a moment, listening. Brian knew that a thorough search was being made for him on the other side of the wall, but he could make out no sounds of it here.
    Carefully the monk drew something from a fold of his robe. It was the sword Albericus had brought to Rupert.
    Brian gasped. “Where—where did you get it?”
    â€œI picked it up near the smithy, where it fell. No one saw me. Take it, son. It may not be all that it is supposed to be—but it happens to be the very finest of weapons, and you won it fairly against great odds. I’m proud of you!”
    Brian experienced a sudden thrill as he grasped the jeweled hilt. As a weapon, it was too long and much too heavy for him, but he had no doubt of his ability to use it should the need arise. It suddenly seemed strange that Rupert, who was far taller and stronger, had been so clumsy with it.
    â€œBy doing what you