“Now!” announced Imbert, “You’re still pathetic specimens at sparring, but it’s time I taught you idiots a little about fighting with the staff and spear! I expect nothing but excellence, even though I know you’re both about as competent as little girls!” Temmin heard stifled snickering from the soldiers. Brother Imbert whipped around to face the men. “You lot! Don’t make me call you out here to prove how incompetent you are!”
“Go ahead,” said an insolent voice. From the shadows of the covered walkway, a big man ambled out with an arrogant step. He was a good two heads taller than the Brother--not that that was so difficult, thought Temmin--outweighed him, outreached him, and was at least 40 years younger.
Imbert stood his ground. “You think so, eh?” he barked.
“I know so,” said the big man, staring down at the diminutive priest.
Imbert nodded. “Pick your weapon!” The big man reached into the pile and picked out a long, thick spear with a wicked-looking tip; Imbert sneered and picked up a plain long staff. The big man stood perpendicular to the little Brother, loose-limbed and confident, the spear in both huge hands. “Ready--!” Imbert began, but the big man cut him off and thrust at Imbert’s head without any preamble at all.
Causes MeiLin Miranda Supports
Electronic Freedom Foundation, Doctors Without Borders, Oxfam, Habitat for Humanity, American Civil Liberties Union