The Sword of Aradel Read Online Free PDF Page A

away. And I will see what I can do about the weather. A storm has been brewing. If I can draw it nearer …”
    Brian stood frozen, with his mouth agape, looking first at Merra, then about the room for the invisible Nysa. Merra had seated herself on a stool by the hearth; eyes closed, small hands clenched, her lips began moving soundlessly. Beyond her, unseen, he could hear someone softly chanting. He became aware of a faint keening of wind in the distance. It grew louder and sharper. Suddenly there was a great roaring of wind outside. Then down drummed the rain, furiously as if it would wash the earth away.
    Brian shook his head. He had been seeing and hearing things he did not believe in. Even now, with the storm raging outside, he could not bring himself to admit that an invisible person—if Nysa was a person—had brought it about. Then he realized that Merra had opened her eyes and was looking at him mischievously.
    â€œHave we shaken you mightily, Sir Brian?” she asked.
    â€œI—I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he managed to say. “You know I’m not a knight. Why, I’m not even old enough to be a squire.”
    â€œI knighted you,” she said tartly. “And if I wish to call you Sir Brian the Fair, I will.”
    â€œAnd I think you’d better let her, Sir Brian,” came the voice of Nysa, laughing. “Though very young, she is still a great lady in her own right. And I may as well tell you that, if she safely reaches her next birthday, she will live to bestow knighthood upon many before she leaves this realm. It is only fitting that you should be the first.” A pause, then she asked, “Merra, what did Grinder tell you?”
    â€œHa! He’s calling the packs together. And he promised not only to get rid of the dogs, but to chase Albericus and his men out of the forest. Oh, I’d love to see that!”
    â€œWho—who is Grinder?” Brian found himself asking.
    â€œThe king of the wolves,” Merra said promptly. “He’s one of my best friends. He told me he saw you earlier, when you were on your way here.”
    Brian swallowed and ran his tongue over dry lips. “You—you talk to people from afar, and to birds and wolves. And you have relatives who are invisible. What—what are you, anyway?”
    It was the unseen Nysa who answered. “We are of the Dryads,” she told him softly. “Many of us live in this grove. We preside over the forests, and the things of the forests.”
    â€œWood nymphs!” he burst out. “But—but there are no such creatures! Anyhow, I don’t believe in them. I—I just can’t!”
    â€œFie on you!” Merra cried. “You babble like an idiot! And that is no way to talk to Nysa. You are a guest in her home—and you have her to thank for the very clothes you are wearing!”
    Brian swallowed again. He suddenly felt like an unmannered oaf. “I—I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. But you see, no one at the abbey—except Brother Benedict—believes in much of anything, and they laugh at anyone who does. But I’m learning. After all I’ve seen today …”
    â€œI understand,” said Nysa. “Laughter is a terrible weapon. It destroys all belief. Not many believe in us now, and when all people cease to believe, we will cease to exist. Even our sacred groves will be gone …” There was a sigh of sadness, then she asked, “How do your new clothes feel?”
    â€œOh, wonderful! I do thank you for them.”
    â€œI pray you will live to see better. But they are the best my friends and I could get together on such short notice. Here—I’ll get rid of those old things.”
    His sodden rags, which he had been holding all the time, were suddenly taken from his hand. He saw them drift away and vanish through a small doorway he had not