Beyond the Burning Lands Read Free Page B

above the din. The stocks, they declared, were an evil custom at best, but on this, the day of the birth of their Lord, it was foul blasphemy to torture another living creature.
    I did not know which Lord they spoke of—I had thought they recognized no human authority except their priests—but I welcomed the small relief from my tormentors. Small indeed; they did not waste time arguing but continued throwing. Then the Christians carried their folly further, walking out to form a screen in front of me. I felt less gratitude for this than contempt for their idiocy. No guard could stand by and tolerate such interference with an official punishment, especially one not only ordered by the Prince but asked for by the High Seers.
    The Sergeant gave his orders. The Christians offered no resistance as the guard put them up also to be shied at. There was only room for three more in the stocks, so the rest were manacled hand and foot and left lying in the snow beside us. All this put the crowd in a thoroughly good humor, and with so many more targets I got off more lightly for the rest of my stay.
    The Christians sang their chants all the while they were there. They were still singing when the guards released me and led me away.
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    It was Murphy who received me in the Seer’s House. He was cold and distant in the presence of the soldiers, but said when we were left alone:
    â€œWell, Luke, I hope they did not give you too hard a time of it.”
    I stared at him. I was covered with filth and my head throbbed. The cut beneath my eye was swelling. I said:
    â€œHard enough, sir. It is kind of you to inquire.”
    â€œListen,” he said, “you did a foolish thing in going out last night. You were caught, and punishment followed. It is something that must be accepted.”
    â€œI was brought to you. You did not need to hand me back to them, to ask to have me put in the stocks.”
    â€œNo? I think we did. You are by your age plainly a trainee, too young to have taken vows and so lacking the protection of our cloth. It is essential for the common people to respect that cloth. Since you disgraced it in their eyes, it was necessary that those eyes should witness your thing. To be made sport of by the mob is another.”
    I said: “There are things due to me also. My father was Prince of a greater city than this. Punishment is one thing. To be made sport of by the mob is another.”
    â€œIt offends your dignity?”
    â€œI have been trained to fight,” I said, “to face wounding or death, even death by execution. But not to endure the mockery of curs. I saw polymufs grinning at me.”
    â€œYour dignity is not important. That is something you have to learn.”
    â€œBut the dignity of the High Seers is?”
    Murphy shook his head. “No. What is important is the restoration of human order and human knowledge. Everything must serve that.”
    I looked at him angrily, in silence. He said:
    â€œRemember that we made your father Prince and made you Prince in Waiting. We brought you from Winchester when there was a score of men eager to cut you down, confident that the new Prince, your brother, would thank them for it, and glad anyway to see one Perry the less. We have kept you in the Sanctuary and may yet restore you to this dignity which you prize so much.”
    â€œYet! In what time? Five years? Ten? Fifty, perhaps?”
    â€œSooner, I hope.” He relaxed and smiled. “How would you like to leave the Sanctuary and go back to Winchester, Luke?”
    I shook my head. “Do not mock me, sir.”
    â€œNo mocking. I have a Christmas gift for you. Your brother seeks your return and pledges his word to your safety.”
    I said, scarcely trusting myself to believe it: “This is not a joke?”
    â€œNews came this morning while you were in the stocks. Your brother is married to a Christian, as you know. The man they say