Barry Dave - Peter and the sword of mercy: Peter and the Starcatchers Series, Book 4

ALSO BY DAVE BARRY AND RIDLEY PEARSON

Peter and the Starcatchers

Peter and the Shadow Thieves

Peter and the Secret of Rundoon

Escape from the Carnivale

Cave of the Dark Wind

Blood Tide

Science Fair

ALSO BY RIDLEY PEARSON

Kingdom KeepersDisney After Dark

Kingdom Keepers IIDisney at Dawn

Kingdom Keepers IIIDisney in Shadow

Steel TrappThe Challenge

Copyright 2009 Dave Barry and Page One, Inc.

Illustrations copyright 2009 by Greg Call

All rights reserved. Published by Disney Hyperion Books, an imprint of Disney
Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission
from the publisher.

For information address Disney Hyperion Books, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York,
New York, 10011-5690.

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data on file.

Reinforced binding

ISBN 978-1-4231-4091-7

Visit www.hyperionbooksforchildren.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, we thank all the readersespecially the young readerswho kept asking us to write another Starcatchers book. We really hadnt planned to, but you talked us into it, and were very happy you did. It was great fun to bring the familiar characters back, and to introduce them to some new ones.

We appreciate all the great people at Disney Hyperion Books, especially our wise and ever supportive editor, Wendy Lefkon, and our unflappable publicist, Jennifer Levine. We promise them that at future book-signing events, we will try to make sure that there are no snakes.

We salute the amazing, brilliant, ever enthusiastic archaeologist Patrick Hunt of Stanford University for digging around the world of swords and museums for us. That theres a character in this book named Patrick Hunt is, of course, purely coincidental. We also thank Sam Thomas of the London Underground Customer Service Center for helping us with historical research for scenes set in the Underground. Any inaccuracies in those scenes, or any others, are completely our fault.

We thank Judi Smith for her diligent research and ruthless proofreading.

And hats off to our wives, Michelle Kaufman and Marcelle Pearson, for letting us do this instead of getting real jobs.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Palatine Chapel, Aachen, Germany, A.D. 811

CHARLEMAGNE, CONQUEROR OF EUROPE, knelt before the stone altar. He was seventy, but with his reddish beard and full head of hair, he looked much younger. His lanky frame still held much of the strength that had made him a feared warrior.

Although usually surrounded by his knights, he chose to pray alone. He prayed for the peace to continue. And, as always, he prayed for forgiveness for his son, now forty, but still a boy in his fathers eyesa foolish boy. He had killed the son of Ogier the Dane, who had been one of Charlemagnes most trusted knights. Charlemagne regretted that any man should lose a son, but especially a man who had served him so well.

Charlemagne bowed his head, his lips moving as he recited the Scripture.

He sensed something behind him. Instantly, with an instinct honed in battle, he ducked his head and hurled himself sideways. A sword cleaved the air where his neck had been and struck an iron candle stand, slicing it cleanly in two as though it were a stick of kindling.

As Charlemagne scrambled to his feet, the burning candles fell onto the linen altar cloth, setting it ablaze. In the glare of the flames, Charlemagne recognized his attacker: it was Ogier the Dane, and the sword he held, known as Curtana, had been a gift from Charlemagne himself. Its bladesome said it had been forged from magical metalhad a distinctive notch six inches from the tip, a notch created forty years earlier, when Charlemagne and the Dane had been young men, and the best of friends.

Charlemagne did not want this fight. If he could have stopped it with an apology, he would have done so. But the look in his former friends eyes told him that words would be useless. Ogier wanted blood. Blood for blood.

Charlemagne drew his sword, known as Joyeuse. Both men grunted as they swung their weapons, the blades glinting in the firelight, the clash of metal echoing off the chapels stone walls.

The two old knights, breathing heavily, circled each other warily in the swirling smoke, each looking for an opening. Ogier swung his sword, just missing Charlemagnes jaw but slicing off a piece of the kings beard.

Ogier swung again and Charlemagne jumped back, holding out Joyeuse to block the strike. The swords clanged together. Charlemagne stumbled backward, tripping on a prayer rug that had bunched beneath his feet. He fell to the stone floor, sprawled on his back, helpless. Ogier began to raise his sword, preparing to strike the fallen king. As he did, Charlemagne saw a brilliant light. He thought at first it was firelight reflecting from Ogiers blade, but in the next instant, the light, dancing in the swirling smoke, seemed to form itself intoCould it be?

An angel.

Charlemagne stared, transfixed, at the face smiling at him, shimmering through the smoke with unearthly beauty. Charlemagne smiled back at the angel; if this was death, he welcomed it. Ogier, disconcerted by the mans smile, paused. Then, with a grunt, he swung Curtana down toward the head of his former king. As he did, Charlemagne reached toward the angel, using the right hand in which he still held Joyeuse.

The two blades met. Charlemagne lost his grip. Joyeuse tumbled to the stone floor. The king was now unarmed; Ogiers next blow would surely be fatal. Holding Curtana in both hands, the Dane raised it for a stabbing, downward thrust. And then he stopped, staring at its blade.

Curtana had lost its tip, broken off at the notch that Charlemagne had put into the blade all those years before.

The sword was blunt now, useless for stabbing. The tip, a piece six inches long, lay on the floor by Charlemagnes shoulder.

Ogier, panting, stared at his swordthe sword that had served him faithfully for decades, in fight after fight. Then he looked at Charlemagne.

It is not your day to die, he said. Curtana does not want to kill you.

He laid the sword on the stone floor at Charlemagnes feet.

It was your sword at the start, he said. Now it is yours again.

Charlemagne looked at the sword, then back at his old friend.

You must go, he said. Before my knights pursue you. Go, and live in peace.

Ogier nodded. And you, he said.