Read Online The Sage by Christopher Stasheff - Free Book Online

minutes.”
    Lua
started to speak, but Illbane waved her to silence, and Kitishane laid a
sympathetic hand on her shoulder. She felt she should not watch a scene of such
brutality, but morbid fascination held her—and the creeping satisfaction of
seeing the bully being bullied.
    Yocote
had no such scruples. He watched with shining eyes.
    Culaehra
drew a long, shuddering gasp, and Illbane dug the butt of his staff under the
man's belly to jab. Culaehra howled and rolled away from the pain, then
scrambled to his feet, glaring in fury—but Illbane followed him every inch and
was waiting to clout him as he stood. Culaehra's head rocked; he straightened,
bringing up his hands to guard, but Illbane struck them aside with a sweep of
his staff, then slapped Culaehra, forehand and backhand, one cheek, then the
other. Culaehra struck out, but Illbane caught his arm, stepped sideways, and
twisted it up behind Culaehra's back. The big man gave a shout of pain, then
clamped his jaw. Sweat stood out on his brow.
    “Understand,”
Illbane grated. “You have only one choice— obey me, or suffer pain at my hands
until you finally die.”
    “I'll
kill you for this,” Culaehra ground out.
    “Turn
those words around.” Illbane shoved and twisted, and Culaehra bellowed with
pain. Lua winced. Illbane lectured. “You have strength and swiftness, more than
I—but you are clumsy, and an ignorant fool when it comes to fighting. No, an
ignorant fool in all matters, or you would have known it was wrong to beat and
enslave those weaker than yourself! Well, you will learn it now, because I will
teach it to you, or you will die from my trying!”
    “Everyone
does it,” Culaehra said between clenched teeth. “What's wrong about it?”
    “Many
things, and if you weren't so determined to be ignorant, you'd know them! But
for the moment, this alone will do—that no matter how strong you are, there
will always be someone stronger! So if it is right for you to enslave those
weaker than you, then it is right for someone else to enslave you—and just now,
that someone is me! Now pick up that packi”
    He
gave one final twist and shoved the big man away from him. Culaehra stumbled,
but turned to glare at him, feet spread wide, shoulders hunched, arms up.
Illbane glared back, though, pure venom; his contempt and disgust and, yes,
hatred for all that Culaehra represented, daunted even the bully. He froze, his
glare glazing, the tiniest shred of uncertainty coming into his eyes.
    Illbane
swung his staff high, then held it poised.
    With
a snarl of defiance, Culaehra turned away and caught up the sack.
    Lua
heaved a sigh of relief, but Yocote's breath hissed out in victory.
    “The
other one, too!” The staff jabbed at a dark shape lying at the edge of the
clearing, then swung back up, ready to strike. Culaehra glared hatred at
Illbane, then slowly stepped over to pick up the pack—and froze in surprise.
    “Lift
it up,” Illbane jibed, “or are you not so strong as an old man? I have walked
fifty miles with that load on my back! Come, are you so weak after all?”
    “What
is in it?” Culaehra grunted.
    “Smith's
tools. Now hoist it to your back, or your shoulders will know a heavier load!”
    Red
with shame, Culaehra lifted the pack and slipped his arms through the straps.
Illbane nodded slowly, lowering the staff. Then he turned to the watching three
and said, “Go, now. You have done your part; you have witnessed his shame, and
thereby gained your revenge—or imposed justice.” He nodded to Lua. “Go where
you will—you are free.”
    “But
the poor man!” Tears filled Lua's eyes. “How can I leave him, when he is so
degraded?”
    “By
moving your feet!” Yocote cried. “Lua! He whipped you, he beat you, he degraded you!”
    “He
did,” she said, tears welling over, “and therefore I know how it feels. I
cannot leave him now!”
    “You
are too good,” Yocote said in disgust, then raised his head in horrible
suspicion even as