The Accidental Sage

Once upon a time there lived an old man who had grown tired
of traveling the world. All his life he had sought something he could not find. He was never
precisely sure what that was, but without it he knew he could not be content. And so he wandered.
He had tried his hand at many trades and searched in many lands. Time and again he came close to
happiness, but still that something was missing and his dreams drew him away. With his beard an
iron gray, and his joints growing stiff with age, he journeyed at last to the very end of the earth.
There, it was rumored, he would find a sage, a wise man called Salis, who knew all there was to know.
Perhaps, thought the old man, he will know what it is I cannot find.

The road to the wise man was long. It led through an unhappy land ruled by young Prince
Ibbott who was known for many things–none of them good. Still, the old man thought, it is
the sage I seek, not the prince. Eventually he found a small, neat cottage at the top of
a mountain. It had a tiny garden in need of tending and a well for fresh water.

The old man carried his few possessions in a pack on his back, steadying himself with
a great staff he had carved, little by little, over the years. He used the staff to rap on the
door. Receiving no answer, he tried the latch and found the cottage unlocked. A thick, even
coating of dust assured the man that neither Salis the Sage nor anyone else had lived there
for quite some time.

The inside was even more to his liking than the outside and he could see no reason for such
a fine, if modest, cottage to go to waste.

Beneath the dust, he uncovered a table with two chairs, pots and pans, and some few dishes,
a serviceable bed. There was little else except for a pottery jar that sat in the center of the
table. It was small enough to fit in the old man’s palm, as delicate as an egg shell and glazed,
or so it seemed, with the blush of morning.

He found no other clue to the previous resident until, later that day, when he thought
to air the bedding. Between the straw mattress and the wooden frame, he discovered a magnificent
robe of a lush, midnight blue velvet embroidered all over with gold and silver threads. Who but
a wizard or sage would own such a thing? He wrapped the treasure around his shoulders, raised
the deep hood, and stepped outside into the daylight to examine it. His staff, resting beside
the door, slipped as he passed over the threshold. He caught it before it reached the ground.

He had not heard the rider approach. A young man astride a princely stead gazed down his
arrogant nose at the old man. “So you are the famed wise man, Salis,” the rider stated in a
voice that left no room for argument. “I have waited these twelve months for you to answer my
summons.” The old man held his tongue while a ball of dread formed in his belly. That
explained why the sage had abandoned such a comfortable home. “Have you nothing to say
for yourself old man?” the rider demanded.

‘Salis’ shrugged hiss shoulders beneath the robe. How could he deny he was this sage when
he wore the man’s robe, emerged from his house? Even the staff in his hand seemed now to be
presumptuously grand. Salis was not such a bad name after all, the old man thought. And cloaked
as he was in the wise man’s robe, he might as well assume the name. “I am an old man,” he replied.
“It is a difficult trek to the castle. What is it you wish of me?”

“I seek payment for the use of this cottage,” the young man said. “As prince of this realm, I hold title to this hovel, this whole mountain. But I am a compassionate man, I ask only wisdom in recompense. You need answer only a single question and you may live out your days in peace.”

There was something about the way Prince Ibbott spoke that sent a chill down Salis’s spine.
The prince’s next words did not upraise him in the least. “If you refuse, or your answer is false,
I shall send my soldiers to remove you from my lands,” Prince Ibbott let his words sink in before
continuing. “And I hope that you possess more wisdom than the others I have consulted before you.

“What question could I answer that other wise men could not?”

“I wish to know the secret of happiness.”

“The secret of happiness?”

“My soldiers are but a short distance away. Shall I call them?”

“No! No, no need for that your Highness, but it is a very great secret.
I cannot tell you in the open where anyone might hear. Please do me the honor
of coming inside.” Salis bowed deeply hoping the prince could not see the sweat
running down his face. The Secret of Happiness? He had searched his whole life
and never found it. But then again, if the prince was gullible enough to believe
there was a secret to happiness , perhaps he would be gullible enough to believe
whatever Salis told him! But what? The old man busied himself with making the
prince comfortable as he searched his mind for something–anything–to tell the young fool.

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The Accidental Sage by
Lisa Wright

© 1998