Read Online The Sage by Christopher Stasheff - Free Book Online Page A

Illbane said, “No one can be too good,” and Kitishane
contradicted, “This is not goodness, Lua, but another form of evil, to be so
loyal to a man who has hurt you, and would again if he could!”
    “Could
it be you are still in love with him?” Yocote burst out. “In love, after all he
did to you—all you saw him do to me? ”
    Lua
hung her head in shame.
    “No,
there is nothing good in this,” Illbane said heavily, “though good might come
of it. I will not drive you away, gnome-maid, if you do not wish it.” He turned
to Yocote. “And you, gnome-man?”
    Yocote
still stared at Lua in outrage and hurt, then turned away in disgust. “Oh, I am
as bad as she is—bound by some sick form of love to one who loves me not, and
who I know will bring me hurt by it! But I'll go where she goes anyway, old
man! I will come with you!”
    “Oh,
Yocote!” Lua reached out toward him, but he twitched aside, turning away, his
face thunderous.
    Illbane
lifted his gaze to Kitishane. “And you, maiden? Will you not go forth in freedom?”
    “I
would rather go with you, in freedom,” Kitishane said slowly, “if you will have
me—and if you will teach me to fight as you do.”
    Illbane
regarded her with a steady gaze for a few minutes, then said, “I may, or I may
not. Why do you wish to learn?”
    “Why!”
Kitishane looked up in indignation. “Why, so that I will never again need to
fear a bully! Is there another reason?”
    “Many,”
Illbane told her, “but that is better than most, though not so good as some.
Well, you may come with us, though I make no promises of teaching. Come, then!”
    He
turned away. “And start marching, you!” His staff swung in a blur; Culaehra
yelped, then started off into the forest with Illbane close behind. Kitishane
and the two gnomes had to hurry to catch up.
    They
marched all that day. During the morning, Culaehra balked frequently to match
glares with Illbane, but each time a lash from the old man's staff sent him on
his way again. Finally, near the middle of the day, he dropped the sack and
kicked at Illbane—but the old man was ready. Slower than Culaehra, he collected
a few more bruises, but for each, he struck the younger man three times, until
Culaehra raised his arms in surrender, took up the pack again, and stumbled
ahead, the very picture of baffled misery. Lua went to him, reaching up to
comfort, but he shrugged her off, and would have kicked her had not Illbane's
staff hissed down between them. Illbane blocked the kick with a shrewd rap on
the shin, then struck the thigh for punishment. Culaehra cursed and went hobbling
on, while Kitishane gathered in the trembling Lua, and Yocote glared daggers at
the human beast of burden, flexing his hands and clenching his fists in
impotent anger.
    They
pitched camp after sunset, Culaehra and the gnomes dragging together a shelter
and kindling a campfire while Kitishane hunted and Illbane stood guard—over
Culaehra. As he watched he took up bits of wood and whittled, his huge knife
very much in evidence.
    When
the wild pig had been shot and roasted, they ate with their knives, and the others
were surprised that Illbane let Culaehra keep his. As they ate, Illbane told
them of distant lands he had seen and the strange folk who lived in them. Their
eyes shone as they listened, all except Culaehra's. Then, when the fire was
banked and each person had rolled up in whatever cover they had, Illbane went
aside, sitting alone and brooding— though in clear sight of Culaehra, and not
so far from him that he could not leap beside him in seconds.
    Yocote
looked up and saw the old man sitting alone, frowned at him for a few minutes,
then with sudden resolution threw off his covering of leaves and came slowly to
the stump where Illbane sat. He stood still for a while before the old man
turned to him, nodding. “Good evening, Yocote.”
    “Good
evening, Illbane.” As if they had not been traveling together all day! The
gnome clenched and