The Sword of Aradel (13 page)

Mary Day gasped. “Do you mean to say that creature is here somewhere?”

“Yes,” said Brian. “We saw him last evening, outside. I don't think he saw us—at least I hope not. But I'm sure he's here now, looking for the sword.”

“Does he know about Dr. Legrande?”

“I doubt it. He wouldn't be here now if he hadn't found Cerid's notes for the formula.”

“Don't underestimate him!” Merra burst out. “He's as skilled at sorcery as he is at swordsmanship. That black-robed devil can find out anything he wants to know. Oh, dear,” she wailed, “why did Dr. Legrande have to go to London at a time like this?”

There was a sudden, unhappy silence. Brian sat rubbing his knuckles against his jaw, wondering how long it would take Albericus to find out about Merra and himself, as well as about Dr. Legrande. He was startled by a sharp ringing from the instrument on the desk.

“That can't be London so soon,” Mary Day said in English, as she caught up the thing. “Yes?” she spoke into it. “This is Dr. Day. Yes, Mr. Lawson, I saw them. Two young people in costume, one with a sword … Oh, very well. If they insist on seeing me, I'll have to talk to them.”

Frowning, she replaced the thing on her desk. “Trouble seems to be piling up on us,” she said, obviously upset. “The police have been searching for you. The guard at the entrance says they are on their way here.”

Abruptly she stood up. “This way, quick! I've got to hide you!”

10

Duel

B
RIAN WAS SURPRISED WHEN
M
ARY
D
AY LED
them to a cabinet at the back of the room and gave it a slight tug. The entire cabinet swung outward, disclosing a narrow passageway and a dimly lighted flight of stairs leading upward.

“This isn't supposed to be a secret doorway,” she said. “It's just a space saver until the new wing is finished. You can see it from the top of the stairs—but don't open the outer door unless you're forced to. Hurry, get inside—”

“Wait!” said Merra. “Here comes Tancred.”

“Don't tell me there are
three
of you!”

“He's my nightingale. He keeps watch for us.”

Tancred swooped into the room and settled on her shoulder. They slipped through the opening, and Mary Day swung the cabinet back in place behind them.

Brian climbed the stairs to a small cubicle with a barred door on one side. The place was a rough wooden structure, obviously temporary; beyond it there were sounds of a giant machine and men working. He was tempted to open the door, but partially satisfied his curiosity by peering through cracks in the wall and the doorframe.

A short distance away from the door a deep excavation was being made by a monstrous digger that reminded him of a huge insect. The temple, he remembered, was on a low hill, and as nearly as he could tell it was the hill that was being scooped out to make space for more underground rooms.

His inspection was interrupted by Merra. “Tancred has just seen Albericus!” she whispered. “Tancred says Albericus is following those guards—police, they call them—who are coming to question Mary Day about us.”

Brian sat down on the steps, suddenly icy inside. “That devil is catching up with us,” he muttered. “He knows we are here now. It won't take him long to find out about the sword. If Dr. Legrande happens to send his message—”

Merra sat down near him. Her green eyes were clouded with worry. “The fates seem to be against us,” she said. “We—we'll just have to accept what is, and go on from there. It's impossible for us to keep Albericus from learning the truth—and it seems just as impossible to get the sword in time for the attack.”

“How soon is your birthday? Or birth hour, rather?”

“It would be eighteen hours from now—if we were in Aradel.”

“You say there's fifteen hours difference?”

“I thought there was, but now I suspect it's all in how I repeat the formula—there are certain adjustments that have to be made, and it's so easy to forget them. It's very confusing, but I'll soon have it straightened out. Anyway, it will be at least thirty hours before Dr. Legrande can arrive. We—we've got to think of something.”

“You've already thought of it. You're right, we must keep Albericus here.”

“That's no problem, Sir Brian—at least for a while. He certainly won't leave without the sword.”

“Of course not. He wouldn't dare. But he's bound to learn Dr. Legrande will be bringing it. You see what's going to happen?”

She nodded. “He'll be watching for Dr. Legrande. And he'll take the sword away from him—unless we stop him.”

“I'll do the stopping,” he told her. “You keep away from him.”

“I'll do no such thing! You'll need my help! And you've got to promise not to fight him—unless you have the true sword.”

“I'll do what I have to do,” he muttered, his jaws knotting.

They fell silent, waiting. Brian remembered the food they had brought, then forgot it, appetite lost in the uncertainty of the hours ahead. What was Mary Day saying to the police? And where was the black-robed Albericus? Was he standing in the hallway, listening?

Suddenly he said, “I know now I must be under a spell. There is so much I cannot remember. But who cast the spell? Was it your uncle?”

“Of course.”

“Then where was it done? At the hut of Harle, my father? And was it Harle who gave you shelter when you escaped from Celadon?”

“Yes, Sir Brian.”

“Then why was a spell cast upon the son of Harle? And why did your uncle train him as I was trained?”

“Oh, don't be a silly goose! Don't you realize by now that my uncle knew from the first that he could turn you into a master swordsman? And naturally the Dryads knew your destiny. It was to help me find the sword and save Aradel.”

“But why the spell, and all the secrecy? Don't tell me again it was for my own good!” He made a growling noise in his throat.

“But of course it was for your own good, you goose! It had to be kept from Albericus, or he would have had you killed. He's already divined that a fair-haired Celt might be his undoing.”

Her small hand reached forth and clasped his arm. “And please, please,” she added earnestly, “be ever watchful and do not let Albericus find you until you have the true sword. You must not fight him without it. He is twice your size, and his reach is incredible. His arms are like steel, and he is the second greatest swordsman on earth. Please, promise me—”

“I'll promise nothing,” he ground out.

Again they were silent, waiting. At long last there came a guarded voice from below, and they hurried down to the cabinet that Mary Day was holding open.

“Whew! The session I've had!” she said. “The police can't get it through their heads that you're not a pair of dangerous young criminals—” She stopped and went swiftly across the room to the corridor door, which was already closed, and did something to the lock. Returning, she said, “That Albericus gives me the creeps. He—”

“He—he came in here and talked to you?”

“You just bet he did! And while the police were here! Oh, you should have heard him—he spoke to me in Latin and French, very old French, and was as pious as you please. But he demanded that I tell the police in English you had stolen your sword from his private collection. I had to tell them, for I'm certain he understood English too. And right in the middle of it Dr. Legrande called from London!”

“No!”

“Yes! He called, and I was at my wit's end to make him understand. For I had to use Gaelic, which he doesn't know too well, and which I pray Albericus doesn't know. Greek would have been better, but I would stake my life that Albericus is well versed in it. Anyway, Dr. Legrande finally understood, and he expects to arrive tomorrow evening. He can hardly wait to meet you. And since the museum will be closed when he arrives, I promised to let him in through his old side entrance—the one you just saw up those steps. The museum staff doesn't like it, but they can't say anything. Dr. Legrande is a very wealthy man, and he's building the new addition at his own expense.” She paused, then said, “What's the matter, Sir Brian?”

“Gaelic,” he said slowly, “is our native tongue in Aradel. It is forbidden, and one risks the stake to be heard speaking it. I don't know if Albericus understands it, but I've a feeling he does.”

“Oh, dear God! We can only pray he doesn't. Anyway, we dare not take a chance. If he wants the sword, I haven't the least doubt that he would kill Dr. Legrande to get it.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “Honestly, I've never met a human that I so loathed on sight, and that so filled me with fear. He's a monster!”

“He is that!” Merra whispered. “If you could see the piled bones of those he's burned …”

“Then we must have some protection,” Mary Day went on, speaking in her easy Latin with occasional words from other languages for clarity. “We cannot call in the police. They'd arrest you on sight. But I know a night guard here I can trust, so maybe I can get him to stand by and keep watch tomorrow evening.”

She sat down, frowning, and began tapping her nervous fingers on the desk. “Now, we have another little problem. The police and the day guards are searching the museum for you, and every policeman in the city is on the watch for you.” She almost smiled. “They'll
never
forgive you for escaping the way you did! So you'll have to stay right here in hiding until Dr. Legrande arrives.”

She studied each of them, and sighed. “Honestly, I'd give an arm and a leg to be able to stay here with you and talk! There are so many things I want to ask about. But tonight I'm being specially honored at my university, and I'm forced to go. It's out of town, and it will be impossible for me to get back until late tomorrow morning. But I'm sure you'll be all right if you'll keep the door locked. If anyone knocks, don't answer. And don't answer the phone. Just stay locked up, and
don't
leave the room.”

She stopped a moment, then said, “Back of that swinging cabinet where the steps are, there's a washroom to the right, and a cubbyhole to the left with a cot in it. Dr. Legrande is old, and he always rests there when he's tired. Sir Brian will have to sleep on the floor, but there's an extra blanket he can use. Now, you'll need food—”

“We brought along some bread and cheese,” Brian told her.

Mary Day insisted upon seeing it. Then she tasted it. “Black bread and goat's cheese!” she said, delighted. “Made in a fabled land centuries ago! It's better than any bread or cheese that can be bought today—but there isn't enough of it to hold you till tomorrow night. I'll go out now and get some things for you.”

Making sure the corridor was empty, she went out, carefully locking the door behind her. When she returned long later, she carried a large paper sack full of burgers and fruit.

Before her final departure, she glanced up at the skylight, frowning. “I'm sure no one can break in there,” she said. “But I'd suggest you keep the lights off, and stay behind the cabinet after dark. That—that
creature
may go prowling, and there's no use advertising your hiding place.”

When she was gone, Brian felt a distinct sense of loss. She was their only friend in this strange and unfriendly world.

He checked the door and went up the long flight of stairs behind the cabinet to test the other door in the cubicle. The huge insect of a digging machine had stopped working, and from the deep pit below it came a strong smell of oil. He sniffed it curiously, wondering what could have happened, then forgot it when he returned to the room and found Merra exploring the contents of the food sack.

There were six big burgers, a generous supply of chips, and two kinds of fruit. He had never eaten either kind, but he knew they were oranges and bananas, for the Iberian traders had occasionally brought them up from the coast for the abbot's table. Merra, hungrily sniffing the warm burgers, suggested that they eat two of those first, with some of the fruit, and save their bread and cheese till later.

The food satisfied their hunger, but did nothing to lessen the uncertainty hanging over them. Many long hours of waiting stretched ahead. They were practically prisoners while they waited; for beyond this room, surely somewhere near, was Albericus.

Why, Brian asked himself over and over, should the fate of Aradel rest in such lowly hands as his own, a mere woodcutter's son? Still, if he could save Aradel, what did it matter? Anyway, he didn't feel lowly anymore. The truly lowly ones were the worthless ones, like those arrogant students at the abbey.

The skylight grayed, and gradually the room darkened. Merra finally retreated to a cot in the alcove. Brian, with the extra blanket, stretched out on the floor at the foot of the stairs. The last thing he was conscious of was the faint but rank smell of oil coming from the pit that had been dug by the huge machine.

He was quietly awakened by the soft beating of Tancred's wings on his face.

Brian felt for the sword beside him. Drawing it stealthily from its scabbard, he rose to his feet. Some instinct warned him to be absolutely silent. For several seconds he stood motionless, listening. Then he inched over to the heavy cabinet whose back closed the opening to the narrow passageway where he stood.

Suddenly he was aware of movement on the other side of the cabinet. Someone was in the room!

Cold fingers of fear crept down his spine. He felt along the cabinet, searching for a small crack he could peer through, and was horrified to discover that he had failed to close it tightly before he went to sleep. In spite of its weight, the cabinet was so well balanced that only a slight pressure of the hand was needed to move it.

The glow of the outer lights around the museum, coming through the skylight, would have outlined the prowler in the room, but Brian wasted no time trying to see who it was. Nor did he wonder how the person had gained entry. With the unknown powers Albericus had at his disposal, the stoutest of locks would not have held him for long. It had to be Albericus, and there was only one reason for his presence in the room.