The Sword of Aradel by Alexander Key Page B

before he could free it they were upon him. He lost the sword but squirmed out of their grasp, kicking, fighting, hurling anything he could get his hands on. A few feet away Merra screamed her hate and laid about her with a heavy stick she had snatched from a desk. “Rotten wretches!” she yelled shrilly. “Rogues! Dogs! Whelps! A malediction on thee all!”
    A woman’s voice, high and clear and sharp as a razor, brought all action to an abrupt end. Brian, breathing rapidly, turned with the others and stared open-mouthed at the commanding Amazon who had come into the room. Tall and muscular, she was the sort, he knew instinctively, who would have definite opinions that might turn out to be troublesome.
    â€œBrawling with minors, are you?” she said icily. “Sergeant Sykes, what is the meaning of this?”
    Sergeant Sykes did not reply. He was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, holding a bloody handkerchief about a wounded hand. It was the guard named Joe who spoke.
    â€œMrs. Mayfield,” he began, “there was a gang fight in the park—”
    â€œLieutenant Mayfield,” she corrected him. “And I will remind you again that I am in complete charge of juvenile offenders. They are to be brought to my office as soon as you have their names.”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I—we thought you were off duty this evening.”
    â€œI was at night court. What’s wrong with Sergeant Sykes?”
    â€œThat young rascal yonder cut him with a sword. I should warn you, ma’am; he’s a ferocious devil—he ought to be handcuffed. The sergeant was just trying to get the facts about him when he went berserk. He’s already cut up Dippy Scarri’s gang and put them in the hospital. Three are in bad shape. One may die.”
    â€œH’m. See that the sergeant gets medical attention. And bring that pair into my office along with the sword and all the other exhibits. But no handcuffs—unless the kids cause more trouble.”
    Brian was propelled down a hall with Merra and thrust into a much smaller room containing a desk piled with papers and records, several chairs and a littered table, and some cabinets against a wall. He and Merra were given chairs at the table, facing the stern Amazon on the other side. The guard named Joe made room on the table for the sword and the other things, then gave a careful account of all that had happened, and took his seat near the door.
    For a minute the big woman studied the objects curiously. She examined the sword, touched the gold and the paper money received at the eating place, and suddenly picked up a large piece of chalk from Merra’s pouch.
    â€œA strange assortment, this. A rare sword studded with valuable gems. Old gold, modern money, and a piece of what looks like natural chalk. I’ve heard they have it around Dover.” Abruptly she looked up, and in her clear, cold voice demanded, “What are you doing with a piece of natural chalk?”
    Brian glanced at Merra. For the first time since they had arrived in this unknown land, there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.
    â€œThe chalk, good lady? We travel with it. And ’tis from the valley of the Loire, not Dover.”
    Lieutenant Mayfield stiffened slightly. Obviously it was an answer she neither expected nor wanted.
    â€œI will have no nonsense from either of you,” she bit out icily. “Nor will I stand for lies or evasions.” She paused, then said, “The chalk is very curious, though unimportant. But the sword and the gold must be accounted for. Where did you get them?”
    Merra gave one of her elfin smiles. It was such a marked change from her screaming fury during the fight that Brian looked at her in surprise. She’s up to something, he told himself.
    â€œThe gold, dear lady,” Merra said sweetly, “a gift it be from the Dryads. The sword, ’twas won in combat, even as Sir Brian hath