The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 17

Harold the Healer, Chapter 17

Author's Note: This flashback episode starts a few months after Chapter 13's events.

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The laughter in the dining room of the Charnok Inn subsided quickly as Healer Harold Moser arrived at the lectern on the stage and Desmond Trax, the lead trumpeter, and Julia Maxwell, the drummer, returned to their places after chasing him away from their instruments. He surveyed the oak-paneled room and the six of fourteen four-seat tables, including the one on his left near the wall that the bride, bridesmaid, groom, and best man occupied. A fire crackled in the fireplace on the right side of the room, offering some warmth to fend off the pre-Vernal Equinox chill. Spring comes sooner to the Southlands than it does to the rest of The Kingdom, but not this year, it seemed. Others had provided some humorous and some poignant anecdotes and stories about the happy couple, but he wanted the last word.

"Thank you again for giving me the honour and privilege to preside over your wedding, Lanna and Dennis," Harold said. Lanna Martok was the Chief Veterinarian of the Charnok Market, as well as having her own private practice, and Dennis "the menace" Kraktan was an animal feed supplier with an office not far from the Market grounds that were just off the Highway at the east end of the town.

"Having bored you all to tears at one time or another," he continued, waiting for the chuckles to subside, "you know that I've been a drifter for most of my life after Mage School, wandering around The Kingdom Healing people and animals that need help and moving on when I run out of work. Prior to my involuntary enlistment in the Army," he again paused for chuckles to subside, including from Lance Martin, a Medic who was with the nearby Army Base. Harold had met him at the Market when he had arrived in Charnok on All Hallows Eve almost four and a half months ago. "I was on one of the roads in the hills to the north, walking through a forest. It was early Fall and the trees were just starting to show their colours. It was a lovely day and I was enjoying the walk, but I started getting the feeling that I was being watched, you know that prickling feeling that you get on the back of your neck?" His audience nodded. "There was a raven hopping and flapping through the trees keeping up with me, and I was exchanging small talk with it, but that wasn't it."

"A few minutes later, I was getting really creeped out. I extended my senses out into the woods and could feel that there were things there shadowing me, but I couldn't see them. Then two gray wolves moved out onto the side of the road, a large one and a smaller one, so I stopped in my tracks." The audience was attentive, as he hadn't told any of them this story before. "The larger one barked and growled at me. The raven that had been following me landed on a branch and translated.

"My mate has been badly hurt. Please help us."

"Ravens can talk to wolves?" Lanna asked, surprised. Harold nodded.

"I was surprised too. They can understand each other. Always respect the ravens." They murmured to each other. "Of course, I agreed immediately. It wasn't the first time that I'd been approached by wildlife, but was the first time that I'd encountered wolves. I invited the raven to ride on my pack because it would have trouble in the woods, so it did. They're heavier than you think," he added. "It took about five minutes of bushwhacking to get to a small clearing in which a wolf was lying prone, breathing shallowly, slowly bleeding to death. Two others were standing guard and yapped and snarled at my escorts, who apparently told them to stand down, as the raven told me. To finally get to the point of the story, it took me about half an hour to put the alpha wolf back together. He'd been badly mauled by the bear whose abilities they'd badly underestimated before the others drove it off and it was a marvel that he was still alive. But all that time, his mate was lying nearby, positioned so that she would be what he saw first when I woke him up. I talked to her through the raven telling her what I was doing and she understood."

"And you healed the wolf," said Dennis quietly. Harold nodded.

"When I released the Sleep spell, he laid there and they talked to each other. I didn't understand and the raven didn't translate, but I could feel it, the old, deep love that they had for each other." He looked at the bride and groom and took a deep breath, composing himself. "Love is universal. Love is two old wolves talking to each other while the Healer offers his services to the rest of the pack. Love is being there for the other, being their back when they can't carry, being the light to illuminate their darkness, being their cup when theirs is broken. I have seen it in you two, and it is true: two souls joined by love are greater than the sum of their parts. To the bride and groom!" He raised a glass for the toast, as did the rest of them. His had only water because he'd already had more alcohol than he felt comfortable drinking.

"And to health and long life for the Goddess!" the bride and groom, who did somehow resemble grizzled old wolves, counter-toasted, as per tradition. More drink was consumed.

"For my final action, I would like to sing you a new song that I wrote to get the dancing started."

"Oh no you don't!" Desmond and Julia, the two largest members of the band, hustled the feebly protesting Healer from the stage and back to his seat at a table near the back as the rest of the audience laughed. Many of them had also heard the noises that he made when singing and they only wanted to hear them once. Harold had a strange curse on him that prevented him from making any sort of music, though it didn't prevent him from enjoying any that he heard. During the course of his travels, he'd created two comedy routines that exploited this; one of them was for adults only.

"Let's move the tables. It's time for the dancing!" Desmond announced. The waiters had already cleared the tables and collected the bills, as the sensible tradition had the guests paying for their meals. The wedding party folks were not the only patrons of the Charnok Inn that night of course, as it easily sat twice their number and most of the tables were occupied. They had the front section that included the dance floor and was in front of the stage. They all got up and moved the tables that were on the dance floor to staff-designated places on the sides of the room and the other people also shifted their tables to clear lanes for the staff who had to change their routes to continue serving.

"Why are you all watching me so closely?" Harold asked innocently as he and Geraldine Dixon moved their rectangular table to the spot where their waiter pointed and Markus Troxam and Christine Macks, their table mates, took the chairs. "You already extracted a promise of good behaviour from me. I won't try to sneak away in the middle of this golden opportunity," he added virtuously. The other three snorted in unison, which got them laughing. Markus and Christine were veterinary colleagues of Lanna and Geraldine was a close friend of hers, as well as an employee of Dennis. She moonlighted at the weekly Market, which is where she'd encountered Harold when he'd first arrived. "A Mage's word is his bond."

"It is, but it's also as greasy as a politician trying to avoid answering a question," Geraldine replied. His Shocked and Appalled expression was met with the eye-rolling skepticism that it deserved.

"We're sorry that you're leaving tomorrow," said Markus as they re-seated themselves. Harold and Geraldine had their backs at angles to the wall because of his aversion to being "out in the open" as he called it. "You've done amazing work with us at the clinic."

"And in your moonlighting at the hospital," Christine added.

"Thank you," he replied modestly. "I'm sorry as well. I really like it here, but the Mages Group, especially the Healers, in Margrave made it quite clear that if I didn't get my shapely ass over there Real Soon they'd take me there in a prison wagon. They want me to tell them all the stuff that I learned when I was in Carcosa, especially in dealing with mass casualty events. Just a coffee, please," he added to the tall, willowy, and very female waiter who'd come around to see if they wanted any drinks or snacks.

"She was giving you the eye there," Christine chuckled when the waiter had moved on. The other three had each ordered a mug of the local beer that was quite good, but Harold had already had two and that was his limit. He'd always had a low tolerance for alcohol, to the amusement of the others in his Army unit, but he just blew them off. He justified it by saying that a Healer in a combat zone needed to be available at all times, which had proven true far too often for all of the Healers regardless of nationality.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're now ready for the first dance," Janna Wilnax, the female half of the band's pair of singers, announced. Lanna and Dennis were on the floor near the stage.

"We had a lot of choices for the song we wanted to dance to," Dennis said as the wedding guests and a few onlookers gathered around the floor and had settled down.

"Highway to Hell?" suggested a wag, getting some laughs. "You Give Love a Bad Name?" "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For?" others added. They looked at the crowd with their hands on their hips and shaking their heads sadly.

"Dennis, why did we even invite these jokers?" Lanna demanded. They'd clearly been expecting some razzing.

"Because this is the best that the Professional Wedding Guest Agency could scrape up," he replied sadly. "I'm going back there to get a refund!" They all laughed. "Janna, if you would get us started?" The band played a gentle intro, and Janna and her husband Wilmer began to sing.

"When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we'll see..." "Stand by Me" was commonly performed at weddings, including many that Harold had officiated. One of the perks of being a Healer was the authority to preside over weddings, and one that he greatly enjoyed, and not because of the free food and entertainment. The flip side was that he also was trusted to direct funerals, although there was obviously no legal power associated with it. The Wilnaxes were good and the love that they shared was obvious as they and the band proceeded through the song and the newlyweds held each other close and danced slowly. The applause that came after the song was finished was genuine, as were the cheers when they kissed.

"Come on, everyone, all are welcome on the dance floor!" Wilmer said in his clear tenor and everyone moved onto it as the next song began.

"The dance floor is this way, Harold," said Geraldine, who had appointed herself as his 'date' for the evening, as she deftly interposed herself between him and the door out. "You keep doing that!"

"If I didn't, you'd think that something was wrong with me," he replied with a grin as he was herded to the floor and they started to dance to the upbeat song that the band was playing and singing. She was five-foot-seven and in her late fifties, but despite this her wavy black, shoulder-length hair was only half gray. Her figure could be described as matronly, with plenty of padding in all the right places, but there was no shortage of muscle under it due to having to haul heavy things around as part of her job. She had the olive complexion and dark brown eyes of the stereotypical Southlander that resembled that of the Argosians, whose border was not that far away. Her nose was long and straight and her mouth wide and thin lipped, and her smile lit up her face in a way that he liked to see. Her breasts, with which she had made sure that he had become familiar, were C-sized with very dark brown nipples and areolas.

"We know that you were responsible for getting Lanna and Dennis together," she murmured into his ear as the third song, a love ballad, began and she pressed her body against his. He was just over six feet tall and the loose clothing he habitually wore concealed his hard, muscular frame and his delightfully thick, seven-inch cock that had driven her pussy into ruin as many times as she'd been able to invite it in. "You claim it was a coincidence, but coincidences can be staged."

"It's perfectly natural that the owner of an animal feed store would be in close contact with the weekly Market, which is so conveniently close," he replied after she pulled away from a smooch that made it quite clear what they would be doing after they got back to her place. "He'd taken over the place and gotten it running smoothly, and it just so happened that LouLou's Restaurant decided to try a pop-up pavilion in the middle of November." Direct questions about that coincidence asked to LouLou's co-owner, whom Geraldine knew quite well, only generated masterful evasions based on the theme of sudden inspiration. That the restaurant happened to be the favourite of both Lanna and Dennis did nothing to dispel the suspicion. "Pop-up restaurants are now going to be a part of the Market because of their success." She could feel something else that had popped up in direct response to her incendiary kiss, something that her pussy was wanting to have stuffed into it.

"We should sit at our table and enjoy our refreshments," he added, eyeing the waiter who was delivering his coffee and her beer to their table. He knew that she was on the make and wanted to conceal the bulge in his pants that was glowing with his colours of forest green and turquoise until it resolved itself naturally. Lanna and Dennis had become serious quickly, resulting in Harold's needing a new place to stay. They had been good for each other, Geraldine thought as they made it back to their table and sipped their drinks. Lanna had become more relaxed and even-tempered and he looked less lost and haunted and more human. She had told him that he would stay with her, since she lived alone. The first tell of his character had happened when they'd stood naked in her bedroom that night and he'd asked, "What do you like?"

The day they'd met on All Hallow's Eve, he had introduced her and Lanna to the marvelous breast massage method that somehow generated an orgasm without even touching the vulva, though the effect was far more devastating with a properly timed tickle of the clitoris. She had demanded that if he were to teach anyone else this technique that she would be their test subject, and to her surprise he had acquiesced, bringing Dennis to her place two weeks ago to be educated. Harold had taken pains to demonstrate how it was modified for a single breast, since Lanna's left one had had to be removed due to a cancer that had been caught in time. She'd come to work the next day mellow and unfocused, and after Markus and Christine had extracted the reason, they had collared Harold and brought him to Geraldine's place for The Lesson. Again, he had kept his promise. They both learned the moves on her, then practiced on each other, then fucked frantically on her living room floor. She'd literally tackled the sneaking Healer at the door to the hallway, removed his pants and underwear and ridden his glowing cock to a third and final orgasm. She'd woken up in their bed the next morning with no recollection of getting into it.

"You're tired?" she asked Harold as he all but inhaled his coffee. He nodded wearily.

"I was covering for Lanna at the clinic so that she could do the million and one things that seem to need doing on a wedding day, and it seems like there was a million and one things to do there too."

"That pretty much sums it up," Christine affirmed as she and Markus plunked themselves in their seats and their mugs of beer on the table. "I've never seen so many emergencies parade through the waiting room. Cats, dogs, rabbits, even a goat."

"Some damned dog ate six rocks and needed surgery to get them out," Markus said, shaking his head. "Boxers are loving, loyal, and dumb as posts." Harold had had to field that one to Heal the damage that the rocks had caused on the way down as well as in the stomach. It was a miracle that Brutus had even lived long enough for his distraught owner to get him there.

"Sparing Lanna from today at the clinic is the best wedding present we could have given her," Harold replied with a rueful smile. "How was your day at work, Geraldine?" She rolled her eyes.

"I was filling in for Dennis of course and it was a license to coin money. Oats and hay and everything else were flying off the shelves. It must be a full moon tonight or something." Harold closed his eyes and they could feel something shift as he reached out with his senses.

"Actually, it is," he said. "It's probably shining on us as we speak. Or would be if it wasn't raining." He gestured toward the window that was on the same wall as the wedding party's table and they could see rain falling gently in the light of a street light that had been enchanted with Mage Light. The band shifted to a new song with a funky beat on the drums, guitars, and the other instruments.

"All right, you, back on the dance floor," Geraldine ordered, seeing that the coffee had finally worked its magic on her tired date.

"Lucky love belongs in teenage heaven, I know, I know," Janna and Wilmer sang together in a relaxed way that had them all grooving to the beat. Rain or no rain, the party would have to break up soon, and since it was Sunday, it was back to work tomorrow. People generally chose their day off, and for Geraldine it was Wednesday. Harold danced with the grace of one who has been trained in martial arts as they alternated between leading with some fancy steps, twirls, and even a hip bump.

"Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen," said Wilmer after the song concluded. It was the last of their set and everyone applauded enthusiastically. "You've been a great crowd! Best wishes to the newlyweds! Oh look, there's the cake!" A modest, two-tier cake had been delivered to the bridal party's table near the end of the song.

"Put me down!" Lanna demanded as she and Dennis, who'd wound up near the left corner of the stage, were carried over to the cake as per tradition by the laughing and cheering guests. There was enough cake for the band members too. Geraldine, who had been expecting Harold to try to sneak onto the unoccupied stage during the commotion, nabbed him and herded him back to their table, cake slice on a napkin in his hand and an exaggerated pout on his face.

"Nobody lets me have any fun," he whined through a mouthful of the very good cake.

"You are being very silly," she mumbled through her cake. "Mmm, oh this is so good."

"Not as silly as I could be if you would let me onto the stage for a few minutes. I don't think that I've done my adults-only performance for anyone, have I?"

"I don't think so, but it's probably completely unsuitable for a wedding reception." The band was packing up and the guests were starting to head to the washrooms or offer their congratulations once again to the bride and groom as the party started to break up.

"So, who was that fellow we saw you dancing with, Geraldine?" Dennis asked when it was their turn. "And not that rascal," he added, indicating Harold, who tried to look innocent.

"His name is Morton and he came into the store this afternoon to get some cat food," she replied. "How he happened to wind up here tonight is beyond me." Three pairs of eyes focused on the Mage, who yawned almost theatrically.

"What are you looking at me for? People encounter each other all the time."

"Thanks for everything, Harold," said Lanna as they embraced. "You've made a huge difference to us and to the entire town. We will miss you." The Healer had to wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

"Sorry, it's warm in here and my eyes are sweating," he managed to say. "Thanks for all your help," he added. "You made a huge difference to me too. Good luck to you both." After Lanna and Dennis moved on to others, Harold found himself accepting well wishes from other wedding guests, as it was well known by now that he was leaving tomorrow. Geraldine took advantage of this and went to the bathroom, and ten minutes later Harold followed her example.

It was a bit of a shock to step out from the warm restaurant into the barely above freezing cold and damp and they quickly opened their umbrellas. The rain had been no surprise, as the clouds had been thickening and lowering all day, so everyone had umbrellas in addition to hats, warm coats, and gloves or mittens, and Harold and Geraldine were no exceptions. The rather draining Ward spell can absorb kinetic energy and use it to power itself, but the rain was barely more than a heavy drizzle and the rain and wind hadn't yet increased to a point where they would provide enough energy to make casting and maintaining it worthwhile. The Charnok Inn was close to the downtown and they walked east along Main Street in the direction of Geraldine's house and, further along, the Highway that would take him south to Margrave if he turned right or north to (eventually) The Capital. They had arms around the other's waist and their umbrellas in the other hand, and Harold's ever-present quarterstaff was Levitating beside him.

"You are an easy man to love, Harold Moser," she said as they reached her cottage-like dwelling after a left turn on a side street and a right turn on another. "Someday, somewhere you will meet your soulmate and there will be no turning back." The kiss that followed on the doorstep with the rain pattering on their umbrellas was warm and comforting.

"Having safely escorted you to your home, I should be going," he murmured into her ear.

"Not until tomorrow!" she asserted, digging in her dark green handbag, extracting the door's key, and opening her front door, all the while holding her umbrella and a quantity of the front of Harold's coat in her left hand to keep him from sneaking away. His unresisting body was hauled inside and the door closed and firmly locked, a sound with which he was very familiar. He cast a Mage Light to spare her the effort of lighting the lamp that was on a small table on the right side of the hallway just past the door's maximum extent when it was wide open. After hanging their outerwear in the handy closet, propping his staff in a corner, and leaving their umbrellas open on the floor to dry, they went into the finished basement, cleaned the ash from and loaded some coal into the boiler/pump contraption that heated the house.

"It's dirty stuff, but there's lots of it from the mines in the mountains," she said as he lit the kindling with Ignite Fire that would then ignite the coal.

"But you sometimes find interesting stuff in it," Harold said, picking up a piece the size of his palm from the large bin and turning it over in his hand. "Look, a fern impression."

"It's beautiful, like a frost fern on glass," she replied as they both looked at it in the steady, yellowish Mage Light. "Trapped in time, brought to us after who knows how many millions of years."

"Keep it. Remember me with it," he said as the heat from the water heater began to warm them. The door to the stairs opened into the kitchen and it was closed behind them. She put the piece of coal on a paper napkin on the kitchen table, then held his right hand and led him the short distance to the front bedroom. There was nobody else in the house, but she closed the door anyway, turned, and walked into his arms for a long, sizzling, yet tender and gentle kiss.

"It is possible for someone to be in love with someone else, but to not want to spend the rest of their life with them," Geraldine murmured, her fingers busy unbuttoning Harold's shirt.

"It is definitely possible," he replied as the buttons on her blouse were released from active duty. "One tragic incompatibility, one square peg for a round hole," he continued as their upper garments whispered to the floor, soon followed by her bra. The almost black nipples on her slightly saggy and wrinkled C-sized breasts looked like they were about to pop off and he bent down to gently lick and suck on them in turn, generating throaty moans. "Something that prevents the upgrade from Friends with Benefits to long-term mates." The buttons obstructing her access to his hard, glowing cock were undone and the offending garment and the equally offending underwear beneath it were yanked to his ankles.

"Mental injuries, still too fresh and raw, from experiences too terrible to tell," she said, licking the underside of the turquoise and forest green glowing shaft to its sensitive tip, which was then gobbled up. He moaned and shook as her tongue expertly licked and swirled around him. His cock audibly popped out as she was lifted to her feet and her pants and underwear found their way to the floor. His exploring right hand discovered heat and moisture and her vagina greedily absorbed his probing middle finger, clamping on it when his thumb stroked her hard clitoris.

"Or the ability to trust a man with her heart again," he whispered with his lips just brushing hers, which then mashed into hers as tongues invaded and their arms crushed their naked bodies into each other's. Her husband had left one day twenty years ago and never returned, leaving behind only a Dissolution of Marriage document on the kitchen table with his signature on it.

"I think that we're ready," she grunted as her orgasm passed. "In the bed. It's still cold in here."

"Let's cuddle," he suggested innocently once they were under the covers.

"With you on top of me," she growled, nose to nose with him. He complied and they both moaned raggedly as he pushed his cock all the way into her pussy in one thrust. "Oh, you're so hard," she whispered as she clamped down on him and he began thrusting. "Give me everything you've got. Go full animal on me!" He began thrusting as hard as he could and she bucked back until she was squeezing him to the point of immobility and she could feel his cum splashing off her cervix and filling her up. They rolled sideways so that she could breathe, with his softening cock still inside her. "This girl's gotta pee," she finally muttered, reluctantly disentangling herself. "Oh, what a mess we made," she murmured blearily as she felt stuff coming out of her. Harold managed to get enough wits together to hit them and the bed with the Clean spell, making them squeal as it did its work very efficiently. It was enough to wake Geraldine up enough to get her to the bathroom and back and then flop in the bed. He followed suit and they burrowed under the blankets and fell asleep immediately.

Waking up was a relief for Harold. For once, he'd had a different dream, but it was a weird one. He'd had to perform the Last Rites for graves on the battlefield in Carcosa, grave after grave, row after row, but there always seemed to be more appearing just when he thought he was finished. He had finally gotten fed up, had somehow made himself and his staff a stupendous size and done the Last Rites on the entire battlefield at once. Someone's voice had shouted, "You cheated!" and he'd woken up, completely confused. Geraldine wasn't riding his cock, which made him feel somewhat disappointed, even though the pleasant ache in his loins made him wonder if he even had any cum left in him after last night's action. She wasn't in the bed, either, but his nose alerted him to something happening in the kitchen as he was getting dressed. He Cleaned his clothes and the bedding, then made the bed and went into the kitchen.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Geraldine purred as he carefully wrapped his arms around her to avoid disturbing the bacon and eggs that she was frying, and kissed the back of her neck. A small pot of oatmeal with raisins was bubbling and blurping and a pot of coffee was warming on the far corners of the stove. "Oh, unggh," she moaned as he expertly worked some kinks out of her neck and shoulders. "Any more of that and I'll take you back to bed and leave you snoring and ruined!" she mock-threatened.

"And I will take you down with me," he replied. They had done this more than once, and had been barely able to function at their jobs for the rest of the morning, despite prodigious amounts of coffee. "I'll set the table. Thanks for making breakfast. Timmy Tum-Tum is empty and angry." Both of their stomachs were gurgling in anticipation of the food, which was soon served.

"Your visit to Margrave is well timed. They're having the Busker's Festival this week in the lead-up to the Equinox." His eyebrows rose. "It's usually warmer than this at this time of the year," she added dryly. They looked out the window to see the sun struggling to make its presence felt from behind the clouds. Harold closed his eyes and reached out into the atmosphere to try to figure out what it would deliver.

"It will clear up and get warmer today," he concluded. Geraldine couldn't see what he was doing, but she could feel something gentle moving and shifting. "I think that Spring is finally on its way."

"That's good to know. From what I hear, it's been colder than usual throughout The Kingdom this Winter. We'll all be glad to see it over and done with." There was no further need to waste time talking when food was in front of them, and this impediment was soon gone. Harold lifted his plate and his bowl to look under them to see if there were any crumbs, and pouted when there weren't, getting a smile. She looked in her coffee mug and looked disconsolate when she saw nary a drop left to consume, and he smiled at her.

"If I may have the honour of Cleaning the dishes one last time?" he inquired, knowing what the answer would be. All of the dishes were put into the sink and Cleaned with a loud clatter that made them jump, even now, and they were put away.

"There will be a taxi cart waiting for us soon," Geraldine said warmly as they were copping feels on each other as they were putting the dishes away. His hand had somehow found its way between the legs of her warm winter-weight slacks and she turned to look him square in his odd blue eyes. "We don't need to have the driver find us going at it."

"Ladies first," he sighed dramatically and gesturing to the bathroom, earning a snort. "Don't stand there listening, you pervert!" she demanded from behind the firmly closed door. "Go make sure your pack is packed or something."

"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly. His large military backpack had been packed and thoroughly checked last night, but he gave it one more look as he waited. He wasn't going far, so he hadn't had to pack any food or fill his four canteens, but there was still enough in there to give it some heft. The flat box at the bottom was fitted to the dimensions of the pack and held important stuff, like a surgical kit, a surprising number of gold Sovereigns and an assortment of silver doubloons and copper pennies in a small sack that kept them from clinking, and his graduation certificate from the Mage School in a tough envelope. The sack had been handed to him by the Carcosa City Council as thanks for his service, now please get on the next ship out. Four bars of field rations, each the size of a pound of butter, were in the box in their wrappings and would stay good until opened. His Silver Star medal in its wooden box was also there. It had never been worn and he couldn't imagine a situation in which it would be. On top of the box was his Medical Magic Reference Manual, a hefty tome with small print that contained everything that he needed to know, much of which had been pushed into his unwilling brain in the ten years of classes. Other items included his metal Army mess kit, still complete, a change of traveling clothes, a set of "presentable" clothes, and other odds and ends.

Geraldine emerged from the bathroom and he took his turn. Charnok wasn't a large city, but it had a small, snug harbor and was close enough to Margrave to have warranted a water system, for which he was always grateful, though there were many houses that hadn't been hooked up to it, like Lanna's. They dressed for the outdoors, stepped onto her front porch, and she locked the door, just as a taxi cart came down the street and stopped in front of the house.

"Good morning, Geraldine," the driver, a middle-aged woman dressed warmly in dark clothes, addressed them. The cart was a standard, light, four-wheeled vehicle with two seats in the back and a storage area behind them and made for a single horse to pull. "Off to work?"

"Sadly, yes I am, Tara," Geraldine replied as they descended the steps of her house and walked down the pathway.

"Please take me to the coach station after dropping Geraldine off," Harold added with a polite bow. "I have to descend into the darkness of Margrave." At her inquiring raised eyebrow, he added as she mounted the cart, "I'm Healer Harold Moser." He checked out the brown and white cart horse who was under a colourful blanket to ward off the chill, giving him a scratch behind the ears that he leaned into, nearly knocking him over. "You're taking good care of him," he observed, climbing the small ladder on the right side of the cart used to get on and off it. His pack landed in the back with a small thud.

"I can't earn a living without Marley," Tara replied with a smile as she got the ensemble going.

"Don't let that creature charm you," said Geraldine, giving him a poke.

"I've heard about you," Tara replied after she'd navigated through the neighbourhood and gotten them onto the main street heading east. "Thank you for helping with Zarkan's Last Day. That meant a lot to us. How did your name wind up on the plaque on his statue? The sculptor says that he didn't put it on."

"That I don't know," he replied honestly. "It's an amazingly lifelike carving and I'm honoured to be included." He did not add that he suspected that it was the local Goddess who had done it. She had appeared that All Hallow's Eve riding Zarkan's spirit, leaving the City Council, Geraldine, and Lanna wide-eyed with shock and wonder. "I've dealt with hundreds of horses in my time, and have never met one that was loved by so many. His memorial is fitting and will last long after all who knew him have passed away."

"Thanks for the ride," Geraldine said once the cart had passed through the morning traffic to the front door of her workplace. She handed Tara three doubloons for her trouble and dismounted from the cart. Harold had visited the store a few times. The large warehouse in the back had a half dozen resident cats that he'd made sure were healthy so they could continue their jobs of keeping hungry rodents away. It was close to opening time and there was already a man waiting by the door.

"You again?" she demanded, recognizing Morton from last night at the party and the day before. He was about five-foot-ten and of average body build, but it was hard to tell because of his dark, elegant winter coat whose hood was up over his head. His smile was bright and charming as she removed the store's door key from her handbag and opened the door's secure lock.

"I saw some toys that I thought that my cat might like," he replied. Their gazes met as she opened the door and turned to look at him, and as she looked into his warm, brown eyes, Geraldine Dixon practically felt something in her brain click. At their wedding that June, Morton Blackwell said that he'd felt the same thing, that one magical moment when all the stars seemed to align. Both of them had the suspicion that Harold had staged this somehow, but he had never returned from Margrave for them to interrogate and in the end, it just didn't matter how or why they had come to meet, only that they had.

"What are you smirking at?" Tara inquired as they pulled away from the feed store.

"Oh, nothing in particular, just a pun that I thought up. Do you want me to share?" he inquired innocently, transferring his attention to the cart driver. Her grimace was answer enough and she quickly turned to look forward to mind the traffic. They arrived at the coach station, which was on the Highway just south of the Market grounds, ten minutes later.

"If I recall the schedule correctly, there should be a coach going to Margrave leaving in a few minutes. We've timed it well."

"Which is highly unusual for me," he replied, giving Tara some doubloons, dismounting, grabbing his pack and putting it on. "Have a drama-free day, Tara," he concluded with a winning smile, now holding his staff in his left hand.

"That is all I wish," she replied, smiling back and looking at a couple who seemed to be wanting a ride into town. "Interested in going to Charnok?" Harold strode up the paved walkway toward the main building, which also served as a hotel for the people in transit who had to stay overnight before making the final leg of the trip to Margrave, which was the end of the line. The semaphore tower was behind it and the main marshaling yard, which was separated from the walkway by a six-foot high wooden fence, was in front and well to the north. Having spent a fair bit of time at various stations throughout The Kingdom on his travels, Harold knew that they and their buildings were laid out according to a fairly standard pattern that was optimized for efficiency. He held the door to allow an elderly couple to exit, then went in and walked the several paces required to reach the ticket counter.

"Good morning, sir," the woman behind the desk greeted him. Her brown hair, starting to go gray at the temples, and blue eyes marked her as a "Northerner", as people in the Southlands tended to refer to people who were not from the Southlands. Harold recognized the professionally scrutinizing look that seemed to be a part of the description of several jobs ranging from tavern bouncers to fare counter clerks and bowed politely.

"One ticket to Margrave, please," he replied. She named the price and he nodded, reached into his right front pocket and pulled out a Sovereign. He then had his left hand grab it and try to pull it out of his right hand, precipitating a brief 'tug-of-war' before his right hand 'won' and he handed it over. Monica, as her name tag read, quickly snatched it away as his left hand made one last desperate attempt to grab the golden coin before his right hand slapped it onto the counter with a squeaking noise.

"You must be a Healer," Monica said, shaking her head and grinning at his silliness. At his inquiring look, she added, "Healers from the group in Margrave come through all the time, going in and out on their rounds of the nearby towns. You have a presence very similar to theirs." Warm, comforting, and safe feelings she felt from him, a bit more strongly than from some of the others.

"Harold Moser, Healer at Large," he replied with Polite Bow #3 that she returned reflexively. "I'm also a Veterinary Healer in case you have any horses that need some attention." He made a point of saying this whenever he was in a coach station. Most of the time he was politely acknowledged and nothing came of it, but not so today, as Monica's expression brightened.

"As it happens, we have two of them with hoof injuries, poor things. The Margrave Healers do some basic veterinary work, but we haven't had a Veterinary Healer with us before."

"Huh. I've been in Charnok since All Hallows Eve and never once did I think to come here," he replied, looking annoyed. "Not that my days weren't full enough in town," he added with an eye roll.

"You'll have to miss the next trip," said Monica as they watched the two coaches getting prepared in the marshaling yard through the large picture window, "but it looks like they're full anyway," she concluded, checking a large ledger on the desk. Coaches held six inside and it looked like twelve people were out there getting their stuff loaded on top of them.

"Doing my job will keep me out of mischief while I wait," Harold replied as a tall, burly man approached from the waiting room at their left at whose far side the restaurant was located.

"Hey, Monica, is this the Healer we were promised?" he asked in a pleasant tenor. He had a closely cut goatee, mostly gray, a large nose that looked like it had taken some abuse over the years, bushy black eyebrows with some gray in them, a high forehead and a short haircut. He was dressed in warm workwear and sturdy boots, probably steel-toed, which was always a good idea when you spent your day working with large, heavy animals that weren't always careful about where they put their feet.

"Ah," Harold said with a knowing smile. "A tall, strong woman with long gray hair came in some time to tell you, then vanished?" The man, whose name tag said Jed, and Monica were surprised.

"Last night, during the storm, the last coach came in very late with only two horses because a small rockslide up the Highway a bit had blocked the road until the coachmen could shovel enough of it clear. Even so, two of the horses managed to get rocks into their hooves and were hurt," said Jed. "We were here waiting for them and a woman matching that description came in and told me that someone would be here in the morning to fix them up. I took one of the horses out of the traces, turned around, and she was gone."

"You probably just had an encounter with the local Goddess," the Healer said.

"Oh, we didn't even pay her respect," said Monica, moving a hand to her mouth in shock.

"That's OK, she wasn't expecting any. I've encountered several Deities as I've wandered around The Kingdom, and that's how they operate most of the time. They show up, say that I'm coming, then I find myself being directed with varying degrees of subtlety to where I'm supposed to be." He grinned at their expressions. "Lead me to the stables so I can Heal the horses and I'll wager a doubloon that when I'm done, a coach with room for at least one passenger will appear to take me away."

"I think that I'll pass on that wager," said Jed with a grin. "Come on, I'll take you there." Jed led him out the door to the marshaling yard where the coaches were getting underway, where they turned right, and walked across the ground where horses and coaches were put together into a team. Harold noticed on the trip that the various people that were working around the area checked him out, saw that he was with Jed, then went about their business. He had a feeling that trespassers would be seen and accosted shortly after and that their reception would not be on the friendliest of terms. Above them, the discs of the semaphore thumped as they rotated on vertical axes, showing either white or black sides, transmitting a message to one of the other towers that was in the line of sight.

The main stable door was large and slid open and shut on wheels, but they went in though a small door in its middle, above which was a large window. Inside were stalls on either side of the main aisle and visible above them was the second floor that was piled high with bales of hay and sacks of probably oats or similar feed. Signs warning of no open flames, safety lanterns only, were prominently displayed.

"Hey, Janet, I've got the Healer," Jed called out after they had entered. Two women and a man who were in the stable tending to the eight horses stopped what they were doing to look, and one of them stepped out of a stall holding a tool used for hoof maintenance.

"I'm Harold Moser, Healer and Veterinary Healer at Large," he introduced himself. The woman moved to meet them, realized that she was holding the tool, put it on the top of the open stable door, which was widened into a shelf, and continued. Her handshake was firm and she looked tired.

"I'm Janet Trekan," she replied in a contralto voice that was clearly accustomed to making itself heard in noisy environments. He idly wondered if she'd been a Drill Sergeant at one point; she certainly had the physique and presence of one. "I was just cleaning and sterilizing Molly's hooves there to keep the infections at bay. I'm so glad that you're here." Her caring for the injured horse was evident and Harold found himself warming to her immediately.

"There's nothing I want to see less than a horse in pain," he said sincerely. "Can you bring her out here so I can work on her, or should I go in the stall?" Her expression answered his question. "The less walking she has to do, the better," he agreed. "Let me get rid of this pack first." He released the straps that kept it firmly attached to him and allowed it to slide off his back to land on the wooden floor with a thump. "Oh, that feels better," he said, leaning his staff against a wall that separated two stalls and conjuring a Mage Light for a better view. The three of them walked the short distance to Molly's stall and he introduced himself to the black and white mare, gently stroking her nose and scratching behind her ears. She was favouring her left front hoof, so he went into the stall and persuaded her to lift her leg and bend it so that the hoof was visible. "Oh, dear," he murmured as he saw the cracked and bleeding frog. "I'll fix this for you and you'll be as good as new," he said and Molly seemed to understand and relax.

Jed and Janet wanted to see what he was doing, so Harold persuaded the horse to move to the side of the stall and to lift her injured hoof up again. They saw him make a corkscrew motion with his left hand and say a few unfamiliar words and a ring of forest green and turquoise light appeared around the horse's shin and clamped down. Molly whuffed at the sudden cessation of pain and the Healer paused to tell her firmly to not put her foot down quite yet. "I'm Cleaning and Sterilizing the hoof, not that it needs much cleaning," he said, doing so. "Now to heal the frog." He moved the Mage Light closer and studied it carefully, then said some more words and moved his fingers very precisely and they watched as the damage disappeared and the tissue became whole again. He then said a few sentences and made more precise gestures and something that looked like a two-foot-square pane of glass coalesced out of the air.

"I want to check inside the hoof in case there's been damage to the bones or muscles," he told the onlookers, who were now the entire barn staff. "Rocks can do all sorts of nasty things, especially sharp ones." The view on the glass zoomed in and through the hoof to present a side view of the bones.

"That's a crack in the bone, isn't it?" someone asked. He nodded. "No wonder she was so sore!"

"Bone fixing takes a bit more power," Harold said, closing his eyes, and they could feel something shifting and moving. "Os hoc reparare," he said and the bone healed. The hoof was otherwise fine, and he released the Tourniquet and Molly put her hoof gingerly on the floor of the stall, then shifted her weight onto it. "Is there anything else she needs?" he asked, looking visibly tired.

"That's all we know about," said Janet as she and a few of the others wiped their eyes. Harold patted the horse's neck and she turned to bump him gently with her muzzle before he left the stall. He added a horse-sized Clean spell that improved her appearance a bit, as she'd been groomed already.

"I'll get her some food and water," said one of the men, his voice rough with emotion. "Vasco also needs help, if you don't mind." He didn't mind in the least. Vasco was a gray and white gelding who'd lost the shoe on his right rear hoof in the scramble through the mostly cleared rockslide and wound up getting a crack in the hoof. The coachmen had bound it up as best as they'd could and he and his injured partner Molly had had to be removed from the tracings. The other two horses of the team had taken the coach the last half mile to the station over the fortunately flat and slightly downhill road while the second driver had walked the two injured horses slowly through the utterly foul weather. This was told to Harold as he repaired the injured hoof, and there was a collective sigh of relief as Vasco put his foot down and felt no pain. Another Clean had him looking as good as new.

"Since you have me here," he said after accepting the heartfelt thanks of the staff, "if any of the other horses, or even any of you, have anything that needs to be fixed, now is the time to get it done." The slight limp of a horse was caused by an easily-healed pulled muscle. Three people had what turned out to be small melanomas or pre-melanomas that were burned out, and he warned them to watch out for strange-looking moles and to get them treated immediately. One of the older staffers had incipient cataracts that were cleared up. A left knee that was becoming arthritic was fixed. During the session, he was eating food and drinking coffee and water because of his body's increased need for sustenance caused by the extensive use of Magic. A much-needed trip to the small washroom in the barn finished it.

"Wow, it's noon already," he marveled, stretching and yawning cavernously. "When's the next coach out? Is there one with a bed on it?" he added, blinking blearily. Another pair of coaches had come through while he'd been working and one of the horses had needed some attention.

"I don't know, Healer Harold," Janet lied cheerfully. "We were thinking of keeping you here as a permanent employee." Looking at her, he figured she was only half-joking. They were outside in the bright sunshine of an early Spring day, with the air smelling of promised warmth from the south. "I'd thank you properly," she murmured as she spotted Jed walking toward them with a sheet of paper in his hand, "but I have a feeling that you'd fall asleep before I could get your pants off."

"And where would we do it? There are eyes everywhere," Harold grinned and she rolled her eyes.

"Here you go, Healer Harold," said Jed upon arrival, handing him the paper. "As requested, here's the list of all the things that you did today, for billing purposes."

"Thank you very much, Jed," he replied, shaking his hand, then folding the paper and putting it into the top of his pack. "Oh, I hope that coach is going to Margrave," he said as one turned into the driveway and made its noisy way to the marshaling area. "I should totter over to the departure lounge to embark properly."

"I think you'll need a wheelbarrow and someone to push it," Janet observed. "Thank you so much for everything!" Harold was able to get his pack installed on his back and made it over to the building, stopping to wave before going through the side door. Fortunately, it was an inbound coach and there was a space for him on it, so he presented his ticket and got his pack and staff properly secured in the cargo area on its roof. He had to sit in the middle of the side facing away from the direction of travel, but it didn't matter because he was asleep by the time the door was closed.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," said a female voice, and a hand that the voice to which it was attached gave him a gentle shake. It seemed like he'd only just closed his eyes and now he was being awakened.

"Huh? Whaa?" he mumbled, finally opening his eyes when the shaking didn't stop. "Oh, what a lovely face to wake up to," he said, offering a weak smile and batting eyelashes.

"A silver-tongued rascal, eh?" the Southlander woman whose shoulder-length black hair was about half gray. "Out, you. Rascals have to pay extra." With some assistance, the Healer disembarked from the coach, where he saw his staff leaning against it and his pack on the ground beside the staff.

"I'd thought that a sliver tongue, when used right, would get me a discount." He waggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes. She was five-foot-ten and had the sturdy body build that one would expect from someone who works at a coach terminal. He quickly put on his pack.

"If I weren't working and if there were a place around here where we could get some privacy, I might just take you up on your offer, bub." Her heavy boot whistled through empty air where his ass had been just moments before.

"Have a drama-free day!" he said over his shoulder as he scuttled with remarkable speed to the entrance to the main building. Alison Karch snorted, shook her head, and waved the driver forward to the horse-changing area. She had seen in his eyes that he would have given her everything she needed and left her snoring and wonderfully ruined in her bed. It had been a while since anyone had hit on her, even indirectly like he had. Her slightly hooked nose and somewhat deep-set eyes never were much for attracting men into her bed. Her D-sized tits were nice, she thought as she made her way back to the stable, but her relatively large frame didn't make them stand out. Maybe she wasn't so unattractive after all, even if she smelled like a horse for most of her day.

There was a large and detailed map of Margrave on the wall between the exit and the picture window that overlooked the marshaling yard and Harold took a few minutes to study it while consuming a much-needed cup of coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich from the station's restaurant. The coach station was marked with a black X and was on the eastern outskirts near the Highway. The Argosy border was on the south end of the map and some wag had written 'Here Be Dragons' in a blank area. Below it, another wag had written in Argosian, 'I draghi ti mangeranno.' The downtown was on the west end of the map and the chunk of the large harbor that was claimed by the Navy Yards was clearly marked, along with the Army base right next to it. The streets were laid out in a reasonably regular grid pattern that was somewhat disrupted by the unimaginatively named Margrave River that ran through the middle of it. He Cleaned the empty mug and returned it to the designated area, then visited the washroom.

"Let's see if I can get a taxi cart," he said to himself, holding the door for a young couple and then going through it. As with the station in Charnok, the walkway to the street went past the fenced marshaling yard; in this case the fence had been recently painted with a nicely-done mural showing a coach in motion somewhere on a paved road. Much to his surprise, there was a horse and cart at the cart stand, but there was no driver, whom he presumed had ducked into the station's washroom. He walked up to the bay mare with white 'socks', introduced himself, and gave her a good Cleaning and a basic exam while he waited.

"And what do you think you are doing?" the driver demanded, hustling down the walk in time to see her cart being Cleaned. She had a cup of coffee in her left hand and a sandwich in her right.

"I was waiting for you to come back from your break," he replied with his most winning smile. "Your horse is in excellent shape, and so is your cart and I figured that you wouldn't mind if I cleaned them for you." She gave him an unreadable look and somehow scrambled up to her seat on the left side.

"You feel like a Healer, but I don't recognize you," she said, getting herself settled. "What are you waiting for? Get on already." He removed his pack and put it into the cargo area, then scrambled up the small ladder to the passenger area and sat on the right side so that the driver could see him.

"I always wait for the invitation," he replied, getting a nod in return. "I'm Harold Moser, Healer at Large, I'm here for the Busker Festival, and it's a much longer walk than I feel willing to make today."

"No problem. It's a straight trip down Marquis Road here." She clucked her tongue and gave the reins a slight flick and the horse and cart made a U turn through a break in the light traffic and began heading west at a brisk walk. "Do you want to stop at the Mages House? It's right on the way," she asked.

"Hmm, no thanks," he replied, faking a cringe to get a smile. "The Healer's Group was wanting me to come here to tell them about handling mass casualty events based on my experiences in Carcosa, but there really isn't much to tell. You have to run around the area and quickly assess who has a chance to be saved and about where they should be in the priority line based on their injuries. They all know how to triage just as well as I do, I'm sure."

"Maybe that was a cover story," she replied, giving him a look. "There have been some problems lately because of gangs. Last week, news got out that two of the higher-ups in the Croods had split away from the gang, taking some other members with them, and even poaching some members and a higher-up from the Troggs. They're calling themselves the Croggs of all things and are promising the street workers better care and a bit more money and less onerous charges for the protection rackets."

"Oh, brother," Harold muttered. "That's the last thing I want to get stuck in. Maybe I should just get on the next ship out, no matter where it's going."

"Well, at least stay for a bit and look around the Festival," the driver encouraged as they made good time down the road and he looked around with interest. As with the majority of major roads in the cities and towns he'd passed through, this one had a mix of stores selling a wide variety of things, coffee shops, various services, a health clinic, a veterinary clinic, as well as a public school and a high school, a post office, and even an Armed Forces Recruitment Centre.

"Yeah, just keep going past that one as quickly as you can," he said sardonically and Arda, as the driver had introduced herself, chuckled. "I'm about halfway through my five-year term of service with the Army, since I was never formally released while I was in Carcosa. I was the last one of us out and I hope that I didn't leave a civil war behind me."

"I hope that you didn't just walk into one," she replied grimly. "The Army and cops, and even the Marine detachment at the Naval base are fully aware of what's going on, so if you see more of them around the Busker Festival than you think is reasonable, that's why."

"Thanks for the intel. I will definitely try to keep a low profile," he replied thoughtfully. Gangs were also a fact of life in The Capital and there had been an uneasy truce of sorts between them, the Harbor Police, and the regular cops when he had been there. As a Healer-in-Training, he had remained strictly neutral as required, but his work in the Docklands' two clinics and veterinary work in the stock yards and horse corrals had had him encounter many of the "invisible people" and he had developed a respect for them. They just wanted to live their lives, do their work, and not be bothered by either the criminals or the minions of law enforcement. "The gangs in the Docklands of The Capital only have a few rules that I know of," he said as it appeared that they were arriving at his destination forty-five minutes after departure. "The one that applied to me was 'Don't fuck with the Mages'. Do you know if the rule applies here?"

"Those who initially think they are above that rule suddenly become its strongest proponents," Arda said dryly. As Harold paid her off, he suspected that the exposure of a small tattoo of a stylized daisy-like flower on the inside of her right wrist as she received his fare plus a decent tip was no accident. After he'd dismounted, put on his pack, and retrieved his quarterstaff, he discreetly made the Sign of the Mage, which was a small Mage Light over his right palm, and she nodded acknowledgement.

"Have a drama-free day," he said with a Polite Bow #2, wishing it as much for himself as for her.

"Life is better that way," she agreed with a smile and she got on her way. The invisible people, the ones whose occupations kept the wheels of city life moving, often served as the eyes and ears of gangs and also the cops, sometimes both. His long-standing policy of always being polite to strangers had probably saved himself from far more trouble than he'd ever know he mused as he started walking in the direction of the Festival's location, which was centred in and around a large park in the heart of the City's downtown. She hadn't wanted to get too close because of the traffic issues that it generated, and he was fine with that. When he'd come through about two and a half years ago with the section from Queen's Horse Regiment after their fight with the Ostermund raiders, it had been dark and they'd taken a different road to get to the barracks.

It was no surprise that the majority of the storefronts and warehouses along the two blocks of Percival Road were related to maritime operations and definitely lacked esthetic appeal, but this changed when he reached the Margrave Park, along with the street's name. The shops and buildings on the very busy streets that overlooked it were more attractive and upscale, featuring restaurants, clothing, furniture, coffee shops, and personal services like tailors, hair stylists, and even a pet grooming studio. From comparing it to the map's scale, he estimated that it was a quarter mile long east-west and half that wide, and despite its size a significant portion was occupied by groups of people playing various instruments and singing and other groups of people being their audiences.

He crossed the southern boundary road, unimaginatively named South Park Avenue, and the eastern boundary road, unsurprisingly named East Park Street, with the aid of two overworked traffic cops and a third whose job seemed to be looking out for trouble. The park's southeast corner had been sliced off and turned into a grand entrance, complete with stone pillars supporting a wrought iron sign with letters between two arching rails that welcomed visitors to Margrave Park. Waist-high brick walls stretched from the gates to the streets, and sitting at the base of the right-hand one were two shabbily-dressed men and one woman.

"Spare a few pennies for the blind, sir or madam?" one of them asked Harold, who had been looking around and hadn't noticed them. All three had directed their attention to him as others walked by, and he could see that they all had advanced cataracts and could only see light and shadow at best. Each had a hat in front of them and all had some coins in them.

"Why haven't you had your cataracts fixed by a Healer?" he asked, removing his pack and setting it down so he could kneel for a better look.

"Fucking gangsters," spat the woman, who was a Northerner and looked about fifty, but could have been younger. "You get desperate enough for a loan from them, next thing they say they own you and have to do what they say. People give money to blind people out of sympathy and they take it."

"We just got here yesterday," said the other man, who was a Southlander like the first one. "The Croods had us shipped in from Markdale for the Festival. Are you a Healer?" he asked hopefully.

"Damned right I am," he replied angrily. Few things set him off faster than cruelty to animals or people. "Hold still while I fix you up." He closed his eyes and summoned his Magic and they could feel something shifting that they couldn't explain. He muttered some words and made some passes with his hands and fingers and his index fingers glowed in his colours of forest green and turquoise. He held his fingers in front of the man's eyes and said some more words, and sparks leaped from his fingertips into the patient's eyes. He rapidly repeated this with the other two, leaving all three of them blinking and shading their eyes from the midafternoon sun. "How about your hearing? I can fix that up too, since I'm charged up." They said sure, and he put his fingers into each of their ears, said some more words, and the insides glowed briefly as the Healing Magic did its work. "I'll throw in a Clean spell in the bargain," he concluded, doing so, making them look and smell a lot better.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" demanded a gruff voice from behind him.

"My job," Harold replied, standing up and turning around to see what looked like a stereotypical thug. He was a man of about his height with greasy black hair coming from under a blue woolen toque, beady, dark brown eyes on either side of a nose that had seen some abuse, and an acne-pitted face. A badly-trimmed beard and mustache surrounded a medium-sized mouth whose thin lips were arranged in a distinctly unfriendly expression in keeping with the rest of his face. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The Sign of the Mage, coupled with the other three standing up and moving to either side of the Healer, clearly made him think twice about his next action.

"Fuck off, asshole," the woman said calmly. "We're done with you, and you're done with us. But I think that your story is only just beginning with them." The thug's back was turned to the intersection, where the traffic cops had noticed something interesting going on and two of them had quickly made their way to the sidewalk. The man whirled and fell hard on the pavement thanks to Harold's carefully placed staff and the cops quickly pounced, one producing handcuffs that were quickly applied.

"Were you folks having some trouble with Lenny here?" the male cop asked mildly as the equally burly female cop hauled Lenny to his feet, none too gently. Harold saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a mousy-looking teenaged girl in a scruffy coat looking at the scene from the other side of the wall. Her eyes widened when she saw that Harold had seen her and she quickly turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"He was running us, using our blindness to get money," said the first of the men. All the coins that had been in their hats that had been in front of where they'd been sitting had disappeared and their hats were now firmly on their heads. "Now that the kind Healer has cured our cataracts, we'll be on our way."

"Not so fast," the female cop said, flagging down a passing cart that was large, drawn by two draft horses, and featured a large cage in its rear. 'Margrave Police Department' was painted in white on the blue sides, and there were already three glum-looking men and a woman in the cage. "I'll take your statements here and now with Bill as my witness, once this joker gets locked up, so that we can use it in court when his time comes." The wagon was wide enough to seat three up front and the officers had all dismounted and were moving to apprehend the latest miscreant. "We'll also get a statement from the man..." her voice trailed off as the cops looked around. "Where the hell did he go?"

Not wanting to get further involved, Harold had used the distraction to melt into a passing stream of people entering the park and he kept going once they'd dispersed. The buskers were all singing and playing quite well, but he had never had much interest in music, mainly due to his weird curse, and he couldn't see the point in hanging around for it. Having visited several country fairs in his travels, he suspected that there would be a part of the area set aside for non-busking activities, which might include food and/or coffee, both of which were becoming more attractive, so he allowed the movement of people to carry him westward, just another tourist of no interest to anybody. But he felt like he was being watched.

A row of standard portable ten-by-ten tents was lined up on the south side of the park with their side and rear flaps down to protect their occupants. It was a bit past three o'clock, he reckoned, right in the lull between lunch and dinner, so there was no competition for the paper bags of roasted nuts that were being sold in the third tent. A doubloon got him two and some scrutiny from the man behind the table and he wondered as he walked casually away to whom he was reporting. He looked more closely and saw a few hard-looking men and women circulating through the crowd just like he was, wondered if they were gangsters or undercover Army or police operatives, and decided that he did not want to find out. He ambled westward, casually but rapidly eating the nuts as his eyes rapidly flicked from place to place while his brain tried to work out the fastest and least attention-getting way to get out.

"Hey, big boy, that's a nice trick making your staff stick to your pack like that," a female voice said from his left. He'd needed both hands free to eat the nuts, so he'd surreptitiously Mage Glued his staff to left side of his pack, figuring that nobody would notice in the short time he'd be eating. "Anybody who can do that should be able to show a girl a good time." She was a Southlander, five-foot-seven, with her hair cut in an attractive style to about halfway to her shoulders. She had an appealing girl-next-door look that was probably helpful for a woman of her apparent profession. His reply was the verbal equivalent of a blank stare, as being propositioned was the last thing that he'd been expecting. "Maybe a little peek will help you make up your mind." Her long, warm, pale green coat was not buttoned up and, after a quick check to see if anyone was looking, she opened it to reveal that it was all that she was wearing. Her breasts were plump and C-sized, her figure had curves in all the right places, and her black, curly bush had been shaved and trimmed into an inch-wide strip. "You can see all you want at my place, for a price." Her come-hither look was well-practiced. A nearby group started up a catchy tune with drums and guitars.

"Miss, the only people who should be getting a better look at you are Healers or surgeons or both." It was her turn to be surprised. "The nipple on your left breast is inverted and the breast is shaped wrong. I can't give any further details without a proper exam, but you probably have a case of advanced breast cancer. You must get yourself to the hospital right now before it's too late!" She could see that he meant every word and Harold watched her turn pale.

"Switch on the sky and the stars glow for you," the singers began.

"How... how the fuck could you know that?" she demanded over the music, fear making her belligerent. "You must be a tit man if that's what you saw in my preview!"

"I'm a Healer," he replied quietly. "I see it far too often. I'd fix you myself, but there's nowhere private for me to work."

"Don't close your eyes 'cause your future's ready to shine..."

"Hey, Sandy, is this man bothering you?" This came from one of the hard-faced men who'd appeared out of a group of passers-by. He had a red woolen toque, a brown coat that covered his ass, heavy jeans and boots, all of which could have used a good cleaning. "If you don't want her services, pal, I suggest you fuck off so she can find someone else." His hard stare was met by an even harder one of Harold's and he flinched involuntarily. The pimp could have sworn that his eyes had been an odd shade of blue, but now they were the gray you see in the ocean on a stormy day.

"I'm going to the hospital," she snapped at him, giving him a glare that Harold was all too familiar with, having been its recipient from various Kingdom, Southlander, Argosian, and Carcosan women.

"You're going to keep doing tricks until I say you're done!" Completely ignoring Harold, let alone that they were out in public with many potential witnesses, he turned to face Sandy and quickly raised his right hand to deliver what would no doubt be a hard slap. The Healer grabbed his wrist, pulled the arm back just so and twisted it in a certain way and he screamed as shoulder muscles were overextended in ways they weren't supposed to be. Sandy took a step back and delivered a hard kick to his crotch and managed to catch his forehead on her knee as he doubled over and hit the grass, twitching, moaning, and gasping with blinding pain.

"It's been fun but now I've got to go. Life is way too short to take it slow..."

"This place is crawling with cops," Harold said quickly, looking around and seeing a crowd around a stage to the west of them where some sort of performance was happening. "When they show up, tell them what I told you and I'm sure they'll arrange a trip to the hospital. Good luck, Sandy." He turned and vanished into a stream of people who were heading in the general direction of the stage.

"You fucking asshole! You probably knew about the cancer and..."

"Hold on, miss, you shouldn't kick a man when he's down." Two somewhat large, hard-looking people, a man and a woman, had appeared out of nowhere and pulled her back before she could kick his back. She screamed and struggled to get at him as they effortlessly held her.

"Are you two cops?" she demanded after her temper had subsided. She realized that her coat had fallen open, but instead of closing it, she turned to the woman and told her what Harold had said. By the end of her discourse, the cops' faces, especially the woman's, could have been carved from granite.

"Listen closely, asshole," she said after the unresisting thug had been handcuffed and hauled to his feet. She'd grabbed his coat to bring his terrified face nose-to-nose with hers. "The gals down at the station are going to want to have a little chat with you down in the basement about your behavior toward this young lady." The alert prison wagon drivers, who'd been going slowly down the right side of the road with the traffic, had come over to collar the man and took him away as best they could, given that he could barely walk. "Come with us. We'll get you a taxi cart and send you to the hospital right now."

"You didn't by any chance encounter a tall guy with a large pack and a staff?" the male cop asked.

"He's the one who told me about the cancer," Sandy replied as they hustled toward the street. "He took off that way, I think." She pointed in the direction of the stage. "Why, is he in trouble too?"

"Hell, no," he replied as he waved down a taxi cart. "He seems to be causing it."

The stage appeared to be a temporary one and it was about halfway to the centre of the park. There was a substantial crowd all around it watching what appeared to be a few kids or teenagers doing some sort of a dance, and they were rhythmically clapping and cheering. He gave it and the audience a wide berth as he continued making his way between groups of performers and their audiences, some of which were fairly large. One had a woman belting out "Oh, I'm walking on sunshine" as he walked past as her band played enthusiastically and the audience was dancing. He gave them plenty of space.

His dislike of being in crowds, stemming from a terrifying incident in Carcosa where he'd nearly died in a stampede, was being kept in check by his noticing how the soundscape changed as he moved from one place to another. As he moved away from one group of musicians, their efforts faded into the background noise as the music of the musicians he was approaching faded in. "I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero until the end of the night!" a raspy-voiced woman, and much of her audience, was singing enthusiastically as he finally left the crowds. He had no intention of being that hero and kept going.

He found himself approaching an octagonal gazebo that was about twenty feet across, nicely painted in white with green and blue trim, a standard that seemed to be consistent in city and town parks wherever he'd been. It looked like there was a wedding going on, with a few people arranged in the gazebo and three distinct groups of seats arranged around it in a quarter circle. More interesting was the three Mage signatures that he detected as he approached and began to circle around it to the left. Why would they have chosen to get married here today? All the background noise from the Festival would make it hard to hear anything. To his astonishment, he recognized the Mage signature whose owner was in the gazebo with the wedding party. She made some motions and he could see her lips moving and then a glowing amber and coral ring appeared in front of her mouth.

"Healer Moser, is that you?" It was the Amplify spell, tweaked to be directed at him instead of broadcasting all around. The directional component meant that she could hear him in return.

"No, I'm Chemist Melvin. Who the hell is Healer Moser?" he replied.

"Get up here, asshole. You're late for the wedding." They grinned at each other and he increased his pace, walking between a group of a dozen people wearing blue woolen hats on his left and another dozen wearing purple hats on his right. On the other side of them was a group wearing red hats, and he wondered if they had any relation to the thugs whom he'd encountered earlier. One Mage was in with each of the red and blue hats and both were positioned to be close to the purple hats.

"I didn't get any memo about leading a wedding, Connie," he said as he mounted the four steps to the gazebo's deck. "It's good to see you again." Connie Desmond had been the Warrior who'd been assigned to the group of six Healers and two Engineers who'd found themselves drafted into the Carcosa Campaign. She was the very image of a Warrior, a bit taller than Harold, solidly built, with her formerly brown and now mostly gray hair in a short military-style haircut. Her oval face was dominated by a strong chin with a dimple in its middle, bushy brown and gray eyebrows, and gray eyes that could instill terror in even the stoutest of hearts. She was career Army and had the air of a Drill Sergeant, but had been a Major in Carcosa. At the top of the steps, he paused to salute with his right fist over his heart, knuckles up, which she returned. He also knew, from plenty of first-hand experience, that her D-sized breasts were firm and had large brown areolas and nipples that responded very well to squeezes, gentle strokes, and licks, and that she preferred to be on top riding his hard cock as he delivered said attentions to her dangling breasts.

"A little birdie told us that you were coming," she replied dryly as he removed his pack with a small groan of relief and placed it against the protective fence of six-inch spaced and four-foot-high balusters that surrounded the perimeter of the gazebo. "And he said that despite my being qualified and authorized to perform marriages, you were the one to do it."

"Said little birdie being in the shape of a Deity?" She nodded with an unreadable expression.

"I'll resume my peacemaker post and turn it over to you." As she descended the stairs, Harold turned to see what he was unexpectedly dealing with. The bride and groom were in their mid-twenties, tall and strong-looking Southlanders. He could see their love when they looked at each other, but could also feel stress which may have been caused by the venomous looks that their probable parents, best man and maid of honour were exchanging. The ones behind the groom had blue hats and the ones behind the bride had red hats and the happy couple were wearing purple ones. Ah, the combination of blue and red, he deduced. The newly-founded Croggs, with the others being Croods and Troggs. Oh, boy, right in the middle of it. He cast an Amplify spell, making a glowing ring of turquoise and forest green that seemed to surprise the participants, and he stretched it to an arm span, tilted it horizontal, and moved it over everyone to catch what they had to say.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my apologies for my tardiness," he addressed the audience and the wedding party. "I was detained twice for Healing and had to work my way through the crowd to get here." There were some murmurs and people seemed to relax a bit. He projected his pleasant baritone voice in a friendly but professional tone. "The authority to preside over weddings is probably the most rewarding perk of my job. Aside from the occasional matchmaking of which I'm accused," he paused to allow some chuckles to pass, "my purpose is only to complete the technicality that causes The Kingdom to recognize the obvious - that these two are a couple. We are here today to put differences aside," he emphasized, giving the members of the wedding party a stern look, "to celebrate how the Magic of love has forged another union of two souls." He looked at the audience, which seemed to have settled down a bit.

"Now I must ask the two questions. Are you, the bride and groom, here today of your own volition, with no coercion or other factors forcing you?"

"I, Beth Marks, do solemnly declare that only my love for Steven Fredericks brought me here," the bride declared in a loud, clear, alto voice. She'd gotten the hint that he didn't know their names. The groom repeated the declaration in a clear tenor, making Harold wonder if they were singers.

"And for the most challenging question," Harold continued, and a hush seemed to fall, "is there any legal," he stressed slightly, "reason why Beth and Steven cannot be married at this time and in this place?" A warm southerly breeze, full of the promise of Spring, blew through, ruffling people's clothes and hats. Everyone looked at each other, but nobody rose and nobody spoke in the fifteen seconds that were required for an answer. The sounds of the friends and strangers who were filling the large park with sounds of happiness and good times washed over them, and Harold realized that maybe this was why they had chosen this place at this time.

"There are none. Let us begin." Rings were dug out of the pockets of the groom's blue tuxedo and the bride's tasteful peach equivalent. The tension that had been building was carried away and dissipated by the breeze and the music. Heartfelt vows were exchanged and the rings put on the appropriate fingers. At Harold's insistence, everyone present, including a number of onlookers who had gathered around, rose to their feet and repeated the Invocation: "Ring to ring, mind to mind, heart to heart. Two souls joined by love are stronger than the sum of their parts. We are now joined by our rings and our minds and our hearts." They needed no encouragement to kiss to seal the deal and everyone applauded and cheered. They went to the table that had been set up to Harold's right where the required documents, held down by rocks to keep them from being spirited away by the breezes, were signed.

"In the name of your local God, I am greatly pleased to present Beth and Steven to you as husband and wife!" On an impulse, as this wasn't part of the usual ceremony, he drew a glowing rectangle the size of a door in the air and invited them to walk through it, and they did. The happy couple stood beaming by the railing accepting the cheers and applause.

"Instead of doing a first dance here, we would like to sing to you the song that got us together," said Steven. "At a karaoke bar, The Elm Tree. We were both there out for a night on the town with our friends almost exactly six months ago. She'd gotten pushed onto the stage and the band started playing, and she started singing, so beautifully." They exchanged a look that would have melted the heart of a Drill Sergeant. "And I found myself singing along."

"And I saw him walking toward the stage singing with me," said Beth. "And our voices belonged together. And we looked at each other, and our hearts belonged together. Listen and hear why." They stood facing each other and held both hands.

"Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you." The song was slow and gentle and their voices harmonized and soared like nothing Harold had heard before. Neither had any of the others in the audience either, judging by their gobsmacked expressions. He cast two Mage Lights, one red and one blue, and had them circling the singing newlyweds slowly. They looked at him wonderingly, but didn't miss a beat. By the time they reached "Take my hand, take my whole life through," there was not a dry eye to be seen. The tough, hardened men and women of the syndicates, the undercover cops and Army who were many of the onlookers, and even the Warriors were lost in warm, happy, loving memories as children with their parents, as parents with their new babies, or with their loves. And with those came memories of those they had lost - parents, friends, children, some from natural causes, some not. When they reached the final line, Harold had just enough composure left to make his Mage Lights merge and become a larger purple light that he held over Steven and Beth's heads and allowed to fade away.

They all blinked and looked around to see that they were surrounded by crying people and Harold realized that he'd unconsciously upped the power in the Amplify spell so that a good portion of the park must have been hearing it and had come over to investigate.

"A wedding is a beginning, a fresh start," the Healer said. "A chance to leave the past behind." He paused. "You wedding guests, take off your hats and put them on your chairs." Slowly and uncertainly, they complied. "Now, look the other guests. All of them. See the people, not the hats. They are people, just like you are. They are fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, sisters, cousins. They are not pawns in some callous game you have made for yourselves and couldn't escape. Until now." He looked at the newlyweds and their tear-streaked faces. "Choose love, not hate. Choose compassion, not callousness. Choose words that you would want to hear spoken to you to speak to others." He gave the newlyweds the Very Respectful Bow and discontinued the Amplify spell, causing the brightly glowing ring to dissolve into nothing. "Thank you for having me officiate your wedding. I will never forget it."

He shook hands with the others in the gazebo, who were all looking lost and confused, got his pack on his back and his staff into his left hand and walked down the steps, wiping his eyes on his coat sleeve. To his left in the milling crowd was a nondescript man in an ordinary long coat and wearing a wide-brimmed hat that you'd normally see in summer. The man gave him a respectful nod and a thumbs-up. A motion distracted Harold momentarily and when he looked back, the man had vanished. 'At least the God approved,' he said to himself as he looked up to the gazebo to see the newlyweds being embraced by their in-laws and even the best man and maid of honour talking to each other. He knew the address of the Ministry of Health from sending in claims for work he'd been doing in Charnok and had found the street when he'd been looking at the map back at the coach station. He would go there first thing tomorrow, file his claim, then go to the harbor and find the next ship out to anywhere.

"Going somewhere, Harold?" A familiar voice broke through the fog in his head and he turned to see Connie standing in front of him, hands on her hips. One of the other two Warriors, a man, was on her left, watching him expressionlessly. Harold could feel that the other one was in the crowd beyond the gazebo and involved in an animated discussion.

"I'll have to wait until tomorrow to file my expenses claim for the work that I did at the Charnok coach station this morning, so my immediate goal is to find a place to eat and a place to sleep tonight."

"The best way to handle a mass casualty situation is to prevent it from happening," said the Warrior on Harold's right. His voice was surprisingly deep given his relatively slender build. "For the first time in ages there appears to be hope for resolving the gang situation here and we didn't have to bash any heads to do it. So far, at least. Congratulations." He and Connie both performed the Very Respectful Bow and then laughed at his astonished expression.

"They did most of the work," he said, pointing at Beth and Steven. "They must have been planning this all along and must be incredibly brave for trying it. I just made a little speech."

"Speak softly and carry a big stick," said Connie, eyeing his staff. "I could never have come up with that speech to save my soul. The God made the right choice."

"He gave me the thumbs-up, so I must have done something right," he replied dryly. "Well, I should be going to somewhere safer, like maybe Svend..." Motion to his right made him turn reflexively, where he saw a large, vaguely familiar woman in an attractive burgundy coat that went below her waist, matching slacks and medium-brimmed hat in a lighter shade, and black boots that were mostly hidden by the slacks.

"I'm Alison Karch," she introduced herself and they shook hands. "We met at the coach terminal when I had to pull his sleeping body from the coach from Charnok," she explained.

"You will report to the Mages House tomorrow at 0900, Lieutenant Moser," said Connie firmly.

"Yes, Major Desmond," he replied, saluting her. As with the Deities, when an officer asks if you can do something, the correct answer is yes. It might not apply later once his term of service expired, but being a Warrior does add weight to one's requests.

"You will assist this creature in the carrying out of his order?" she asked Alison straight-faced.

"Yes, ma'am," Alison replied, standing at attention. "I happen to live not far from the Mages House and he will report as ordered."

"Help?" he pleaded in a Very Small Voice to the other Warrior, batting his eyelashes and making sad puppy eyes and all three of them exploded with surprised laughter, which was amplified by his making silly faces as he feigned struggling to sneak away while Alison was maintaining a firm grip on his pack.

"I'm Major Jack Merk, and I will be seeing you tomorrow," said the other Warrior. "But it looks like we have some business to take care of." The other Warrior was waving at them and the background noise was getting angrier.

"Not if I see you first!" The Warriors turned away, shaking their heads and chuckling.

"How on Earth can you go from making one of the most moving pleas for peace to being so silly?" Alison demanded in her somewhat husky contralto voice. "You really are a piece of work, and I don't even know you yet." Her eyes were a bit sunken and her nose was a bit hooked, but her oval face was otherwise open and attractive Harold mused as they hastily retreated to North Park Avenue, scurrying between no fewer than four of the prison carts that were being guided off the street and into the park, and they crossed the street. At least he knew where he was going to be spending the night, and with whom. He wasn't perturbed that she'd just shown up out of nowhere after brief encounter at the coach terminal, even if he'd had to hustle to preserve his ass from being impacted by her boot, just curious. Stranger things had happened to him.

"Alison, I apologize for my suggestive comment earlier," he said sincerely and she raised her elegantly trimmed eyebrows in surprise. "You caught me after I'd just woken up when my wits were addled, and for some reason that was the first thing that popped into my tiny brain when I saw you."

"That was the most flattering apology I've heard," she replied. The smile on her medium-lipped mouth was warm, but the look from her dark brown eyes had heat.

"Laughter is the best medicine," he continued. "Everyone feels better after a good laugh, right?"

"I suppose so," she replied thoughtfully. "I felt better after you made goo-goo eyes at that Major. I got the feeling that I wouldn't want to tangle with either of them."

"They're Warriors. Connie was assigned to the Mages unit in Carcosa to try to whip us into some sort of shape in a very short period of time. She was quite effective." His shiver didn't go unnoticed. "They get trained in the offensive use of Magic, which is otherwise heavily restricted for the rest of us, as well as pretty much anything that has been used as a weapon in the past and present. Not to mention unarmed combat. You are correct, you definitely don't want to mess with them. If there were three of them here, the Powers That Be must have been expecting something nasty to happen at that wedding."

"There's been a lot of gang-related violence in the past week because of the Croggs coming together from the Croods and the Troggs," Alison replied grimly. "The two you just married were the architects of the whole business. We were expecting an all-out war to break out."

"The emotions were real," said Harold as they continued westward past the various upscale shops. Whistles were blowing in the background and the noise was getting louder. Then he felt the first pulse of Magic being deployed against someone, followed by a scream. "They really are in love. Whether or not that will lead to any progress, whatever that means, is anyone's guess, human nature being what it is," he added sourly. "But at least they're trying."

"They should all be thrown in the ocean and fed to the sharks. Everything that they do makes people miserable!" Harold blinked and, after a moment, rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Yes, I suppose that you're right. The Syndicate members would have to magically become good citizens and find gainful employment. If that set of prison carts is any indication, as many of them as possible will be finding gainful employment from within Their Majesties' Correctional Services," he added dryly. "I wonder if the wedding will have altered the trajectory of events."

"I'm considering a trajectory toward a restaurant," Alison said. "Like this one." They had reached West Park Street, the corner that marked the northwest corner of the park across the street.

"I will not impede our progress into, uh, The Bashful Clam? Am I reading that right?"

"You are," she grinned, opening the door and beckoning him inside. He stepped back a couple of paces downwind from Alison and hit himself with a Clean spell, creating a cloud of dust and grime that drifted northward, then in they went. They found themselves in a ten-by-ten vestibule tastefully paneled in maple with a small host station in front of a large door. Between the station and the door was a large Southlander man in a tasteful navy suit with an easily-read nametag that read 'Admissions Coordinator'.

"Ms. Karch, welcome back," said the man in a resonant bass voice that Harold was sure would provoke choir directors to fight to the death to get him to sing with them. "You have brought someone."

"I am Harold Moser, Healer and Veterinary Healer at Large," the Mage responded after he realized that he was expected to identify himself. "It is the highlight of the career of any Admissions Coordinator to eject a reprobate like me from the premises which they guard. I wouldn't want to assume responsibility for the wrinkling of that superbly tailored suit that would occur during said process, so I will leave voluntarily." He made a Respectful Bow and pivoted on his left heel but his progress toward the exterior door was abruptly arrested by Alison's firm grip on his pack.

"This silly creature is my guest and will behave himself in the premises, Martin," she said firmly, with only a hint of steel underneath, a tone with which the Healer was all too familiar.

"No, I won't," he replied defiantly. "I will sing loudly and off-key and make various rude noises." After receiving the full force of The Stare from point-blank range, he quavered "Yes, dear," as meekly as possible, cringing and groveling to the point where she couldn't maintain her scowl and gave him the smile that he was waiting for.

"That was quite the performance, Healer Harold," Martin chuckled. "Welcome to the Bashful Clam. Enjoy your visit." He turned the shiny brass doorknob that was on the left side of the door and walked it open inwards. "You really know how to find them, Ms. Karch," he added as Harold scurried through the door past him, once again evading her fast-moving foot targeting his ass.

"You'd think that I'd find better while strolling through the park, even during the Busker Festival," she mock-complained as she passed through the door and Martin closed it behind them. They found themselves in a narrow hallway, dimly lit by lanterns hanging from the walls at either end. Harold cast a Mage Light and it revealed dark paneling on the walls and ceiling and dark stone tiles on the floor.

"So, Alison, just what have you gotten me into?" he asked mildly as they walked the twenty feet or so to the end, which seemed to be marked by a pair of black velvet curtains that they pushed their way through. "Oh, a nightclub?" he asked curiously. They were standing at the back of a dining room, whose front wall was occupied by a stage, on which chairs and musical instruments in stands were placed. In front of it was a decent-sized dance floor, around which square tables were distributed relatively densely. "Is this place popular enough to warrant a bouncer, oops, an Admissions Coordinator? All I want to know is if they serve food and when." They must have come in just after opening, because only three of the tables were occupied, two with four people each on the left side and one with two on the right side of the room.

"Move along, you," said the coach station wrangler, herding him toward the occupied table on the right. He brightened as he saw the Washrooms sign on the wall and he dropped his pack with a thud.

"I'll be right back." Ten minutes later, he peeked from the small hallway and then began an exaggerated tiptoe toward the stage at the front, but Alison swiftly collared him and brought him to the table, to the amusement of the others. "Tiptoeing is great exercise for the calf muscles," he said with a look of childish innocence that fooled nobody, as usual.

"Folks, this creature is Healer Harold Moser, who moonlights as a comedian, or so he thinks." Harold pouted and they chuckled. The background noise had increased since they'd arrived due to more people coming in and seating themselves. Harold was holding his anonymous light gray coat and draped it over the back of the chair that he was directed to and then slid his staff under the table so that it wouldn't get in the way. Introductions and fist bumps were exchanged. Lucy Kevark and Goren Montex were tall, sturdy, husband and wife Southlanders and worked at the coach depot in equipment maintenance and management. The room's multiple lanterns, including a round chandelier in the middle of the room that was festooned with them, revealed that the three were wearing nice-looking but casual outfits.

Alison's was a light burgundy blouse and darker burgundy slacks, both cold weather weight and loose-fitting like the clothes of the others, only hinting at what was underneath. Lucy had shades of lavender and Goren shades of maroon. The others who were coming in and seating themselves were even more colourful, including many in shades of red and blue. Harold's usual beige shirt and pants were meant to help him fade into the background, but now he felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb and had him wondering if he should use the Colour spell to change them.

"That sounds like a different job every day. Lots of variety," Harold said as he picked up the menu that was on the dinner plate in front of him. They nodded and Lucy rolled her eyes.

"The first part of our shift is always walking around the shop and stables looking for stuff that had grown legs and is needing to be brought back." She directed a Meaningful Stare at Alison, who wouldn't meet her gaze. "And there's always some damned thing that needs fixing." He scanned the menu. For a place with an Admissions Coordinator, the prices were surprisingly reasonable, unless the portions turned out to be tiny. Fish and chips with a salad looked good. Coffee would be helpful too.

"I'm probably going to be busy tomorrow, given that I've been summoned to the Mages House," he said as a dozen elegantly dressed servers, men and women, made their way through the swinging kitchen doors near the left side of the stage. Each was pushing a cart that had plates of bread and pitchers of water on it and they began circulating through the room. "In the near future, I could swing by and see if I can help out. Tweaks to standard Healing spells work on things that used to be alive, like wood, leather, and fabrics. Only the Goddess knows how many broken wheels and axles I and my colleagues fixed in Carcosa." It became clear that each server had a section of tables and theirs worked her way to them and efficiently handed out slices of bread on plates, filled up their water glasses, and left a plate with butter.

"I'll be back in a few minutes for your orders," she said with a friendly but professional smile. Alison hadn't answered his question about what she had gotten him into, and he decided to wait and see if it would be answered for him. Not topless or nude servers, at least not yet, and it wasn't warm enough in here for people to be parading around for long anyway.

"Thank you, Healer Harold," Goren responded. "Your coach's driver told us that you'd done a lot of work for the Charnok station. I'm pretty sure that the management wouldn't mind your coming by."

"Based on what I heard," Lucy added, "if you do come by, you may find it rather difficult to leave." Her smile was bright and open, but her brown eyes had a calculating look that made him think that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea after all. He followed their lead and buttered and ate his bread. It was really good and he discovered that he was hungrier than he'd realized. To try to break the ice a bit, he asked a question about whether they had a certain brand of lathe in their shop and whether a certain technique for turning new cart wheel spindles was better than another one. This surprised them, and they were more so when he kept up with their technobabble until the server appeared ten minutes later, as it seemed that they were the last table in her section.

"Who's onstage tonight?" Alison asked after she'd taken their orders.

"Speakeasy Sam and Her Starlighters," the server, whose nametag read Ada, replied.

"They're good," Goren said. His smile was attractive and the Healer noticed Lucy's brief hot stare. He'd had to ask, so they didn't come here specifically for a band, Harold mused. He mentally shrugged as the server turned and headed for the kitchen. Whatever was going to happen would happen. He just hoped that it would be after he'd eaten.

"You've been awfully quiet about yourself, Healer Harold," Lucy observed, "cleverly getting us to talk shop and barely introducing yourself." He shrank in his seat and made exaggeratedly shifty motions with his eyes, getting snickers but no relief from the stares.

"I'm a Healer and Veterinary Healer with little desire to stay in one place for too long. I've been drifting around The Kingdom since my graduation from Magic School, helping out wherever I'm needed and learning way more than I did in school." They nodded.

"You mentioned Carcosa as you were trying to lead our attention astray," Goren added.

"I just got back from there last September. I drifted into Charnok on All Hallows Eve and just came into town from there this afternoon. Alison here had to all but haul me out of the coach." Three relentless stares made him shift in his seat. "You lot are worse than Sergeants trying to get to the bottom of something," he complained. "Yes, there were six Healers, two Engineers and one Warrior, whom I happened to encounter in the park an hour and a half ago. Healers are very helpful to have along when a lot of unfriendly people are waving sharp and pointy things at your people. Most of my experiences are not suitable for discussion when we are about to eat," he added wryly as servers pushing carts began emerging from the kitchen. "It was awful, but ultimately I think that we did the right thing."

He closed his eyes and did what he could to push back the memories that wanted to overwhelm him yet again, of long, sometimes desperate sessions in operating theatres assisting surgeons, of patching up numerous less serious wounds and broken bones, and of the many occasions in which he'd had to defend himself. When he opened his eyes, the others were looking at him wide-eyed. Even though they weren't Mages, they had picked up on the emotions that he'd been broadcasting like a bonfire. "I don't like talking about it."

"The destruction of war is what we are trying to avoid," said Goran as quietly as possible over the background noise of the room, whose tone was changing as food began arriving at tables. Six people also arrived on the stage dressed in stylish black uniforms with sequins that made them sparkle like fireflies, timing that was probably not a coincidence. The speed of service of the food made Harold think that it had probably been already prepared, with carefully calculated estimates of the number of servings that would be required for each of the dishes on the menu.

"Hey, is this one of those places where you get dinner and a show or something, then out the door for them to have another sitting?" Harold inquired, then nodded when they confirmed it. "I spend most of my time out in the sticks where things like this are rumors at best. Oh, thank you very much, Ada!" She had delivered his dinner and he gave her his most winning smile, which she returned.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm Sam Mikaluk and with me are the Starlighters," said a tall, slender woman who had positioned herself in the middle of the stage, projecting her voice to make herself heard. She got a warm round of applause and there was more when she introduced the saxophonist, clarinetist, pianist, violinist, and drummer. "We'll be with you for the next couple of hours to get your night on the town started off right! One, two, three!" she addressed the band, who started up with a romantic melody. "Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, wondering in the night," she sang in a lovely, clear alto.

"Oh, it's not fair that she'd start with a dancing song," Goran, who was seated to Harold's left, complained half-heartedly, clearly unsure if he wanted to start on his dinner or join the approximately half of the diners who had hurried to the dance floor to hold each other close and dance to the gentle song. All four of them opted to remain and eat, as the aromas from their plates were too good to ignore. The song was short and warmly applauded when it was finished. Harold noted that the others seemed to abide by the Army principle of not wasting time talking when there was food in front of you, a principle that he followed as often as possible.

"All right, Mister Rascal, let's see how well you dance," Alison said once every morsel had been removed from their plates and devoured, Harold had Cleaned everything to their surprise, and plates and cutlery had been neatly stacked and handed to the equally surprised Ada, who traded them for coffee.

"Have you got your steel-toed work boots on?" he asked with a smile as a song ended and people entered and left the dance floor. He looked down at her shoes, which were sensible, low-heeled loafers. "Oh, dear, better say goodbye to your toes." She smiled back as they found a spot near the right edge of the floor and rather awkwardly got themselves sorted out. A piano intro started.

"Why do birds suddenly appear, every time that you're near?" Sam the singer crooned as the band backed her up. They quickly found their rhythm and moved together well as the gentle song played out. He wasn't that much to look at, she mused, even close up, just a face that would quietly fade into any crowd anywhere, but in his arms as they dipped and swayed, she felt a sense of warmth and strength from him that made her feel safe and protected. That blast of rage, sorrow, and pain that she'd felt from him when he'd been asked about Carcosa had said more in that instant than words could ever express. And he was focused entirely on her, his odd blue eyes never leaving hers for the duration of the song. And it seemed so natural that her lips would press against his and that his sliver tongue was invading her mouth and hers was in his and they had to reluctantly break it when the song ended.

"I don't think that I needed those steel-toed shoes after all," she murmured as they stood there in each other's arms while people moved around them. "We dance together very well." Sam picked up a guitar and began to sing again.

"Talkin' to myself and feelin' old. Sometimes I'd like to quit, nothing ever seems to fit..." What she wanted to fit was his cock into her hot pussy as he pounded her from behind as she leaned over the sink in the women's washroom as the other women in there egged them on, as she'd seen others do from time to time, Alison thought dizzily. It was only a few hours ago that she was hauling him from the coach like a bag of oats and he'd made the mildly suggestive remark that had gotten her a little warm between the legs for no reason she could see.

"We'd better sit down," he said when the song had ended. "Otherwise, we may find ourselves getting dragged out of here for violating indecency laws here on the dance floor."

"Darned indecency laws," she complained half-heartedly as they returned to their seats. He reheated their coffees (with modified Create Fire spells, he explained) and they enjoyed the next three songs staring at each other over their mugs. "What's wrong, Harold?" she asked as his attention was drawn to the stage. The saxophone player was a balding, heavyset man with gray hair tied back in a ponytail. He'd been playing solidly for the entire set, but he had suddenly lurched and, as the audience and those on the dance floor watched in horror, he fell hard, his instrument clattering away from his nerveless hands.

"I don't think that's part of the act," said Lucy, wide-eyed.

"And, that's my cue," said Harold, getting up just as Sam ran over to the fallen musician.

"Help! Is there a doctor or a Healer in the house?" she cried out.

"How the hell did he get there so fast?" Goran asked, astonished, as the Healer had already dodged through the tables and people and vaulted onto the stage, his arms, hands, and fingers moving as he rapidly cast the Window spell that caused what looked like a two-by-two-foot sheet of glass to appear.

"I'm Harold Moser, Healer at Large," he introduced himself. The clarinet player had already loosened the fallen man's collar and she had knelt by his side, positioned to apply CPR. Harold placed the pane over the man's chest and zoomed in on his heart. "Fuck," he muttered, quickly swiveling the view to sweep through the heart, top to bottom. "This is his left anterior descending artery," he said, pointing it out as the cross-section view was pulled back from bottom to top. "It's clogged up with crap." The onlookers felt a surge of something as he closed his eyes and summoned more Magic. There was absolute silence in the room for a very long minute as bright red threads leaped from his fingers to the man's chest, directed by his view of the offending artery to burn out the plaque. He did a quick check of the other heart arteries and cleaned out some more. He pressed his hands together and pulled them apart with small lightning-like discharges and placed them just so on his chest. "Hoc cor incipe," he said and the man's body bounced off the floor. There was a pause, then the saxophonist started coughing and Harold rolled him onto his right side.

"Ambulance is on the way," someone announced from the back.

"Thanks," Harold called out, moving the Window over the man's head to do a quick scan of his brain. "I think it's... oh, wait a minute. What the hell?" Two men holding the ends of a folded stretcher and a woman behind them emerged from the back entrance and hustled to the front. Harold felt the signature of another Mage, and she was a Healer too.

"What's going on?" she asked as she hopped onto the stage. "I'm Crystal Orkus."

"I'm Harold Moser. I just cored out his LAD and got him restarted, and now I see an aneurysm just ready to pop! You know how to fix these things?"

"Yeah, I've done this before. Watch and learn." He watched her expertly wrap threads of Earth and Water around the bulging artery wall with deft movements of her fingers and gently tighten them until the bulge had been pushed back into place.

"Ah, then you apply the modified Turnbee method to strengthen the artery wall," he said, making some motions of his own to rebuild the artery wall and make it safe again.

"Who modified the Turnbee method?" she demanded, blinking in surprise. "That looks better!"

"It's something we hacked up in the field hospital in Carcosa," he replied, pushing the window carefully through the rest of the brain and, with neither of them seeing anything worrisome, he pulled it slowly back up, and it still seemed fine. "We needed something to fix blood vessels quickly in the battle."

"OK, looks good," she said as they both stood up, him rather tiredly. "The body snatchers here," the stretcher bearers snickered at her as they quickly set up the stretcher, "will load him up and get him into the cart and straight to the hospital where we'll give him the once-over to be sure he's OK. Will you be in town for the next few days?"

"No lesser luminary than Major Jack Merk requires my presence at the Mages House at 0900 tomorrow," he replied with an eye-roll. "I expect to be in town for a few days at least."

"Oh, Goddess, what happened to me?" the saxophonist wheezed as he was expertly loaded into the stretcher. "There was this awful pain in my chest, now I'm here."

"What happened is that today has become the first day of your new low-fat diet," Harold replied. "Healer Orkus will fill you in on the details on your trip. Good luck." With Harold's and Crystal's help, the stretcher was removed from the stage and the burly men and Crystal rapidly removed themselves through an exit next to the kitchen door. The clarinet player followed, explaining to them that she was his wife.

"Do you guys want to cancel the rest of your set?" This was the manager, a worried-looking five-foot-ten man with half-gray hair cut short. Sam and the remaining band members looked at each other.

"No, I think that we'll play to the end. We can't do anything for Joe and Jeannie and the show really should go on. Thank you so much, Healer Harold," she added, looking down on him from where she was standing. "We owe you big time."

"Pay it forward," Harold replied hoarsely, as the sight of the band members all wiping their eyes and trying not to cry was getting to him. "Get us dancing until they throw us out for the next group." As the band conferred to decide what to play, the manager turned to Harold.

"If there's anything we can do, please tell me," he said earnestly.

"If there are any extra plates of fish and chips left in the kitchen, I wouldn't mind one, and more coffee," he added with a weak smile. Alison took his arm and led him back to the table, where he sat down rather hard in his chair. Ada showed up a minute later with the food and coffee, for which Harold thanked her most sincerely. The band started up with a bouncy tune from the piano and drums, soon followed by the others and Sam on her guitar.

"You can do what you want, just seize the day. What you're doing tomorrow's gonna come your way," she belted out, the dancing resumed, and Harold wondered how much longer it would be before the sitting was over and he could leave. Too many unpleasant memories had been shaken loose that needed to be put back into their boxes. "You're looking for somewhere to belong. You're standing all alone." Sam seemed to be looking right at him when she was singing these lyrics and he had to agree.

"This song is hitting a little too close to home, isn't it?" Alison asked from her seat across the table from him, reaching for his left hand and giving it a squeeze, startling him from his reverie. "You don't do the job I do without being observant," she added. He nodded, a bit less wearily as the coffee and food started working their magic inside him.

"When we're done here, I'd like some time to go through the Quarterstaff Forms and get myself grounded again. Some memories got knocked loose and need to be put away."

"What you need is therapy, and probably a lot of it." He nodded bleakly.

"And my therapists will need therapy afterward," Harold added dryly. "Back in Carcosa, one suggested that I write down my memories as I remember them, which will allow me to give myself permission to forget them, since they've been recorded. I have been doing that, and it helps. I have a few notebooks full of nightmares in my pack." Notebooks that had been written in the standard Healer Shorthand rather than plaintext Kingdom Standard in case someone got into his pack and found them.

"OK folks, it's time to wrap things up," said Sam when the song came to its end. "Aside from the sudden departure of Joe and Jeannie," she said rather shakily, "it was a pleasure playing for you tonight." Those who weren't already on their feet rose and gave the band a rousing ovation that they accepted with polite bows. "And many thanks to Healer Harold Moser, whose timely aid may have saved his life." Harold, unused to being the centre of attention, shifted uncomfortably and grinned as the ovation was directed at him. As it faded, he raised his right arm and spoke loudly.

"Pay it forward. Do something good to make someone's life better. If one person can make a difference, think of what all of you together can do. Good night, and may the God watch over and protect you." He then scurried to the washroom to beat the rush and was out again five minutes later. It looked like Lucy and Goran had already left and Alison was already to go, so he put on his coat and pack and grabbed his quarterstaff. There was a door marked Exit next to the bathroom door and another one on the far side by the kitchen, which the patrons were both using, and Harold and Alison went out the former, where they found themselves in an alley that led back to North Park Street. Night had fallen, but the enchanted Mage Light streetlights provided enough illumination for them to walk safely. They got to the street, turned right and saw a line of people waiting patiently for admission, and even at this distance the muted noise from the Busker Festival in the park could be heard.

"If we walk around the park, we should be able to find a taxi cart to get back to my place," said Alison. "If you want to stop and do your Forms, there should be lots of space on this side for you."

"Thanks, Alison. The Healer needs to heal himself. It only takes about twenty minutes and I will be fully functional when I'm done." She didn't fail to note the slight stress on 'fully functional' as she took his left hand in her right. If she could be patient, it would greatly improve her chances of getting laid and it would be interesting to see what these Forms of his looked like. In all her thirty-five years, she'd never seen a quarterstaff, let alone someone who could use it. They crossed North Park Avenue and moved a bit into the corner of the park, which was far from the Busker Festival activity and unoccupied.

He put his pack at the base of a large tree, rested his head briefly against its trunk, then assumed the opening position of the First Form. "There are ten Forms of all three of the Schools of Quarterstaff Martial Arts. Some friends and I cobbled the Third School together by cherry-picking the best stuff from the other two," he said as he performed the slow, stately dance. "The leaders of the first two Schools were not happy about it once word got out and after we clobbered their best students in a competition a few days after we presented our Major Project. We wound up getting a lot of combat practice that generated opportunities for improvement." She grinned at what was obviously an understatement.

"That looks like quite a thorough workout," she mused as he transitioned into what he said was the Fourth Form. "If you led people through this before they came on shift, I'd bet there'd be a lot fewer injuries. Lucy was right. If you show up at the station, you won't be leaving any time soon."

"So, if people start making unreasonable demands, I can hide out there with you?" The roguish smile and twinkling eyes generated some warmth between her legs. If there were anything even remotely suitable near here, he'd be pounding her senseless and flooding her pussy with his hot cum soon after they got there. Then he'd do it again when they got back to her place, but taking their time about it. The trip down here after her shift had been a bit impulsive, but not so impulsive as to have her not drink a cup of contraceptive tea before she'd left.

"They would never find you and would get high-velocity horse shit to discourage them from looking around!" she answered firmly. "Oh! What's happened?" The Magic had come to him near the start of the Ninth Form, as it always did, and his entire body had started to glow in cool, peaceful shades of forest green and turquoise. She felt something gentle and soothing ebb and flow around and through her like waves on a beach, and it was wonderful.

"It's the Magic coming to me, to heal and cleanse my soul," he replied tranquilly. "This is why the Third School is better than the other two." He looked like a colourful ghost dancing in the wind, she thought as he progressed through the last two Forms and finally finished with a flourish. "Oh, I really needed that."

"Let's go home," Alison purred. "The taxi carts will be at the opposite corner. I suggest that we walk around, rather than through." There was a lot of activity in the park between here and there, as the extra Mage Light poles that had been brought in for better illumination showed. They opted for the shorter trip down West Park Street to get to South Park Avenue, where they would be more likely to find a ride. It was a lovely mild evening, but they wasted no time and reached their destination in a few minutes and turned left to head east.

"You're awfully alert," she noted as they walked. His attention was mostly on the street and the various carts and wagons, none of which were taxis, but he also checked the park side frequently.

"Yes, it's a habit of mine, or maybe an obsession, I don't know," he sighed. "Having spent so much time in an environment that was unfriendly even at the best of times, I've gotten wary of being jumped. I think that the shrinks call it 'hypervigilance' and they lump it in with post-traumatic stress. Even before Carcosa, I had to keep alert because I never knew if some roadside robbers would be lurking around the next bend or in the bushes somewhere. Mages can extend their senses, for lack of a better phrase, out a bit to detect living things further away than the living things think that I should be able to, and it has saved my neck on several unpleasant occasions. There are enough people around, especially now, that I shouldn't have to worry about it. But I definitely don't want to get back into the heart of the festivities because there are just too many people around." He took a deep breath, muttered something, breathed it out slowly and appeared to relax.

"You spend a lot of time alone, and it suits you," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm sort of like that. My job keeps me working in the background most of the time with relatively little contact with the passengers, just with the horses and my coworkers."

"The background is where I like to be too. Drifting in, quietly doing things for people or animals, then quietly moving on when there's nothing left to do. I'm not comfortable being in the spotlight. I never seem to know what to do or say, except when I'm being silly." They grinned at each other. "Oh, taxi!" he called out, waving at a southbound cart that, like all carts in the trade, had Taxi clearly painted on its sides for ease of recognition.

"Gah, you beat me to it," Alison said as they moved to the curb and he grinned at her.

"Hypervigilance wins again! Oof!" Her poke wasn't all that gentle. The driver was a man dressed in warm, light-coloured clothing and his horse had a warm brown blanket with a geometric pattern in red and yellow over her back.

"Where to, madam and sir?" he inquired. Alison stated an intersection and he nodded.

"Hop on board." He named the price, based on the distance plus a little extra because it was after dark, and between them Harold and Alison were able to cover it. Prepayment was generally required after dark due to the risk of fares running away before they reached the destination. It was an issue during the day too, but at the discretion of the driver who could get a better look at his passengers, and sometimes the passengers paid up voluntarily. Harold put his pack and staff in the back gently so as to not startle the horse with a heavy thud. Alison took the seat on the left behind the driver and Harold took the one on the right, and the driver made an expert U-turn to get them moving east away from the park.

"I'm glad that things settled down at the Festival," the driver said. "That riot earlier was an ugly bit of business. Word has it that the cops bagged a lot of high-level gang members who were there for a wedding. It's strange that they'd be out in the open like that."

"That is unusual," Alison replied. "Gangsters don't like risk. They'd know that there would be cops in the park because of informants. There must have been some very powerful motivation for them to be there, something that we'll probably never know."

"And the less we know, the better as far as I'm concerned," Harold added. "If I know something, someone who doesn't want me to know will either know or find out, and that would lead to unwanted attention. I prefer to let the forces of law and order do their jobs without my participation." Once they were away from the park, traffic lightened up considerably and they were able to make good time.

"That guy who did the wedding must have been a real pro. He appeared out of nowhere, did his job, made a nice speech that nobody seems to have listened to, then vanished without a trace. I wish that I could do that sometimes."

"He probably read the writing on the wall and took advantage of the confusion," Harold said neutrally. "He may have even been a plant by the cops to touch off the riot and give them a reason to move in and arrest people for disturbing the peace." The driver turned and gave them a thoughtful look. The man's hat kept his face in shadow, but the pack and staff had been part of the description. He also seemed to have a warm, calming presence about him that made the driver think he was a Mage of some sort, as he'd shuttled Mages from the Mages House to various places several times lately.

"Here we are," he said a few minutes later when they arrived at Marquis Road and Wendover Avenue and pulled over to the curb. His passengers got off and the man put on his pack and took his staff. "Have a great night."

"Thank you," the woman replied and they offered him a Polite Bow. "Have a boring night."

"That's all we wish for in this business." He did another U-turn to head back to the Park, where he was sure to get more business. Once he was safely on his way, Alison said,

"Come on, it's three more blocks east and four north." They quickly crossed the street and went into the residential area that began immediately away from the main road. "Those taxi drivers are all informants for somebody, sometimes even more than one somebody, and I don't think that you want those somebodies to know where you are." Harold looked mildly surprised.

"Thank you for looking out for me," he replied, and she heard his sincerity. "I wonder if I should have just stayed in safe, boring Charnok and away from all this weirdness and intrigue."

"I'm looking out for me, bub," she said, turning and wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling his body next to hers. "I don't want us to be interrupted," she whispered, her lips just brushing his. Then they were mashed together, tongues invading the others' mouths, and they practically ate each other up for a minute before finally having to break apart. "This is my place," she added, pointing to the modest, one-storey house in front of which they were standing. Within moments they were up the three steps and at her front door, which she unlocked using a key from her left front pants pocket. Then they were inside and the door was closed and locked again, experiences with which Harold was quite familiar. He removed his pack with a groan of relief and left it in front of the door, putting his staff in the corner to its left. Boots were placed on a tray to the right of the door in front of the closet with two folding doors. When he removed his coat to hang it on a hangar, the glowing bulge in his pants was revealed and she felt her pussy heat up rapidly as he cast a Mage Light.

"My bedroom is this way." She grabbed the glowing bulge and pulled the unresisting Healer to the back of the house, where the kitchen was to the right and her bedroom was off it to the left.

"Don't you want any foreplay?" he asked with a smile as they rapidly removed their inconvenient clothes and she pulled back the blankets and bedsheet.

"Foreplay will be for the next time! OH!" The last was a ragged moan as he'd stuffed his hot, very hard cock all the way into her vagina in one stroke almost before she'd finished opening her legs to welcome him in. "Hard! Fuck me hard!" she demanded.

"But I'll come too soon," he moaned as her vagina clamped on his cock and he involuntarily thrusted it in as far as it would go.

"I'm coming already! Fuck me!" His eyes locked on hers, they bucked and thrusted about ten times before he was locked in place and she felt the pulses and sudden heat inside her as he pumped squirt after squirt off her cervix and they moaned and groaned ecstatically. She rolled sideways and he dropped on his side, his softening cock still inside and they laid there, staring at each other glassy-eyed and breathing heavily. "Oh, what a mess we made," she muttered as she felt the warm juices sliding from her pussy and down the front of her thigh. It took a couple of minutes for Harold to assemble enough of his scattered wits to recast the Mage Light, which he'd lost because he'd lost the concentration on it when he'd come. He then cast the Clean spell on their private parts and her bed, making them both squeal as it performed the job very efficiently. He directed the result to appear outside her bedroom window and then flopped his head on his pillow again to look at her.

The neighbours on the left side of Alison's house had been relaxing in their living room after dinner and the kids were doing homework at the kitchen table, all by lamplight, when they suddenly felt a warm, tingly feeling pass through them that made them all think of a warm breeze blowing through the forest that wrapped itself around them as they were walking on a path. They closed their eyes and murmured unintelligibly as happy memories were replayed. Then the husband and wife slowly opened their eyes to look at each other as their bodies started feeling strange.

"Mel," said Cora, "I have a problem." Her nipples felt like they were trying to force their way out of her bra and her pussy was hotter than it had been since she'd been a teenager.

"Cora, I also have a problem." Mel stood up and his problem, a severely tented pair of pants, was immediately evident. "What the hell is happening?"

"What's going to happen is that we are going upstairs and we are going to fuck until we collapse!"

"But the kids..." he whispered, pointing to the kitchen and Cora clapped her right hand over her mouth, horrified that they might have heard them. She hustled down the hallway and peeked in, and both Robert, who was twelve, and Julie, who was ten, were asleep, heads down on their homework with the most peaceful smiles she'd ever seen on their faces, even when they'd been babies. She ran back to the living room and grabbed her husband's hand.

"They're asleep." No further encouragement was needed and before they had realized it, they were in their bedroom naked and the door firmly closed. Cora bent over to grab the covers to pull them back and suddenly Mel's cock had shoved itself all the way in from behind and they both moaned raggedly. He folded himself over her back to grasp her tits and fondle them and her nipples in the way that she liked and she came immediately, screaming into a pillow as her entire lower body spasmed. But he was only just getting started. "Oh, Mel, your cock has never been so hard!" she quavered as his penis slid in and out of her with increasing force as her vagina strove to swallow it entirely.

"Cora, you feel like a furnace," he moaned, then shoved in all the way and started pumping her full of cum as she clamped him in place. "Oh, what happened?"

"Get me a towel before that creampie slides down my legs to the floor!" He reluctantly pulled out his half-hard cock, leaving a small hole from which his cum was starting to dribble. He managed to make it to her bedside table and grabbed the top hand towel, which was normally placed under her ass before they went at it, brought it back and put it over her privates. She held onto it with her left hand and lurched into their ensuite bathroom while he used another towel to clean himself off.

"I'd better check on the kids and get them ready for bed. Thank the God that we have them get washed and in their pyjamas before they do their homework." He put on his underwear and pants, having not removed his shirt in his haste, and went to the kitchen, where the kids were looking around groggily.

"Can I go to bed now, Dad?" said Robert, staring at his half-finished Math homework. "I can finish this tomorrow at breakfast." Julie had almost finished her Geography work, so they went upstairs while he blew out the lanterns, where they brushed their teeth and fell into their beds.

"Easiest bedtime ever," Mel mused with a smile as he returned to his bedroom holding the lantern he'd brought from downstairs and closed the door again. Cora was lying on her left side facing him, with the long, dark brown nipples on her once perky and now slightly saggy D-sized breasts sticking straight out. Her gaze was as hot as he'd ever seen it, and he noticed when it moved down to stare at his crotch, where a tent was appearing in his pants. "How could I be getting hard again?" he asked, astonished.

"I don't know, and I don't care," she said huskily, rolling onto her back, raising and spreading her knees to reveal her swollen pussy, whose dark lips she parted to reveal the hidden pink. "Put that wonderful cock in here and this time we can take our time." A couple of months after she'd given birth to Julie, the love of his life had tearfully asked him if she was still attractive to him with her blobby post-partum body and sagging, thoroughly chewed breasts, and his response had been to pull down his pants. He remembered this as he removed all of his clothes, got on the bed and into position. The tears had slowed and stopped as she watched it lengthen and harden to its full seven-and-a-half inches.

"Does the dick lie?" he had asked her quietly, brushing away some tears, he recalled as he gently thrust his way into her, one inch at a time. Its hardening had been greatly accelerated when she had gobbled as much of it as she could into her mouth. Then, as now, it had been guided into its place, sliding back and forth in her womanhood as he'd kissed the remnants of tears away even as she'd grabbed his buttocks with both hands to push him in harder and deeper.

"Did you have any tea today?" he grunted after her first orgasm had passed and he was able to move in her again. He could feel that it would be a while before he would come again and intended to take full advantage of it.

"No, I didn't," she whispered, wide-eyed. "I didn't think that we would have sex tonight. It was a busy day for both of us. And I think I ovulated today." More grunts and thrusts followed. "If I conceive tonight, the child will be born from an act of pure love, and will do big things." Ten minutes later, after she had orgasmed from the missionary position, doggy style from behind, and her on top with him fondling her breasts, they were nearly exhausted. He was still hard, but couldn't seem to cross that threshold.

"Do you remember our first date?" he asked, having paused his thrusting due to fatigue. "That first kiss in the dark between your house and the neighbours?" Why was he thinking of that now?

"I will never forget that kiss. You were so scared, but then you melted into my arms and your tongue was in my mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world." They were back with him on top and he had eased himself down to rest his sweaty body against her equally sweaty body, nose to nose, lips just brushing hers. "Then I felt something hard poking me in the belly. Something that I had to investigate." Ignoring his weak and unconvincing protests, his belt and pants buttons had been undone and everything had been pulled down to reveal his throbbing erection.

"Your eyes got so big," he said, giving her gentle thrusts. "You said that the girls said that boys liked it when their cocks got licked, which you did, and oh how good that felt."

"Your affirmative was expressed by that huge load of cum that you sprayed over the lawn," Cora purred as she felt him hardening up a bit more. "And your eyes were so big when I undid my slacks and pulled them down and put your hand on my pussy for the first time."

"And you were so hot and wet, and somehow my finger found its way inside." Oh, he was definitely getting harder. Oh, she had been so tight back then. "The boys say that girls like it when we rub them here," he'd whispered, barely audibly, as his thumb had found her achingly hard clitoris and stroked it with the aid of the ample supply of her lubricant. Her affirmative had been a wide-eyed gasp, a loud moan and his hand getting sprayed and his finger nearly crushed.

"I have not had any contraceptive tea. But I will have for tomorrow night, I'd told you." She'd known as soon as she'd seen it that she wanted that cock inside her. He was moving faster now and she could feel herself beginning to squeeze him. "Did I tell you that Mom showed me how to make the tea?" He grunted no. "She'd asked if it was for you, and I'd told her yes, it was. She'd nodded and smiled and thought that you would treat me right. And she knew."

"You were so tight that night. I was afraid I was hurting you."

"It did hurt a bit as you stretched me with that cock of yours, but I wanted it, and I realized that I wanted you along with it." He felt himself finally passing the point of no return, and she felt it too. "It was a lot easier the second time," were the last words she said before their lips mashed together, tongues invaded, and they wrapped their arms around each other trying to make two people into one as his balls emptied themselves into her.

"I love you, Cora," he said. "You have always been my only one."

"And you have always been mine, Mel. Always." With great difficulty, she got up and put the already abused towel to its second use as she walked to the bathroom. He used it after her, blew out the lamp, and set the alarm clock before they both fell asleep. She could tell the next morning that she'd conceived. Their friends and parents were thrilled, their kids much less so. Forty-five years later, Jillian Chetnik stood behind a podium with her husband and two kids beside her and her parents and siblings behind her and formally declared her victory as Mayor of Margrave, and she turned out to be one of the best the City had known.

Harold, of course, was and would be unaware of what he had indirectly initiated because his focus was the woman whose back and neck he was massaging back into shape. "You're so knotted up that you could be human macramé," he commented as he got started, getting a snort in response. All that Alison could do by that point was moan and grunt as his strong, skilled fingers kneaded, stretched, and twisted muscles that she never knew that she had. Little shots of hot and cold also helped to loosen things up and after he'd gotten her out of the bed and onto her feet, she discovered that she could move and flex in ways that she had forgotten were possible.

"If you ever show up at the coach station, there is no way that you will ever be allowed to leave," she growled, pushing the unresisting Healer onto the bed, climbing on and impaling herself on his hard, glowing cock with another moan. "What are you doing?" she demanded blurrily. He'd started stroking, squeezing, and licking her breasts in a rather unusual way. "Nyurgh!" she exclaimed after a couple of minutes. Harold was trying to hold on, but her jiggling, dangling breasts and three hard squeezes while raising and lowering herself made him lose it and he emptied what sperm was left into her with a loud moan. This time the orgasm wave had no effect on the neighbours to the left, who were all sound asleep, save for giving them very pleasant, happy dreams. The neighbours to the right still hadn't gotten home from the Busker Festival and so were unaffected.

"Thank you, Harold," Alison said after he'd Cleaned them and the bedding, they'd made one last trip to the bathroom, and were now snuggled into her bed. It felt good having someone in it with her. "You have made a world of difference to me." Gentle kisses were exchanged and their eyes closed. "I don't think that you know what your schedule will be like any more than I do, but I want you to consider my home to be your home for as long as you're here."

"I will, Alison. Thank you." They slept the deep and dreamless sleep of the utterly exhausted.