The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 09

"I think that we should waddle this off for a few blocks," Susan suggested. "I need to have it settle down a bit before we get into a taxi cart." Disagreement was notably lacking, so they set off down the sidewalk towards the city's core.

"Did you know that the Carcosan War Memorial was opened about a month ago?" Larry asked Harold somberly. The Mage shook his head, managing to look both surprised and sad. "It's down in the North Harbour Park, not far from the lighthouse. You should go check it out before you leave."

"Why would our government pay for such a thing?"

"The Carcosans did," said Susan. "They gave us the money and we hired local artisans to design and build it. It's low-key, but really moving at the same time. They apparently did the same for Argosy."

"Our training group all went down there two days ago," Diana added. "It was enough to make me forget about the pain of my wisdom teeth. I can't even imagine what it was like."

"Maybe you should visit my dreams sometime," Harold replied bleakly. "Or your parents' dreams, which will be different from mine, but no less horrible. I think that we all hope that you never have to experience anything worse than dealing with bandits, disaster cleanup, or civil unrest."

"It isn't all about marching, weapons training, and physical conditioning," said Diana, clearly quoting someone. "It's a tough job, one of the very few where the people you are trying to handle are actively trying to harm or kill you. Your training will prepare you to neutralize those threats to you and your comrades." She was walking beside Harold and saw his nod at recognizing the familiar words that all recruits, volunteer or otherwise, had to repeat upon demand. "I have killed people already." That got a surprised reaction from him. "Two men tried to rape me two years ago. It goes without saying that my parents have been training me all my life, well before I was old enough to officially enlist." They nodded with proud expressions. "They had no way to know, of course, and they found out the hard way. The police never laid any charge on me, as it was a clear case of self-defence."

"The primary motto of a Healer is 'Do No Harm'," Harold replied, returning her gaze, though they could tell that he was seeing things that had happened long ago and far away. "For a few years after I graduated, I drifted around the Kingdom applying my skills and learning more than I could ever learn in school, including that sometimes there are people who will not respect the Healer's art and will try to kill anyone for whatever possessions they may have. Fortunately, most of those people have never had to deal with someone who knows how to use a staff. When I was in Carcosa, I had to do both Healing and killing, sometimes within minutes of each other. Let's just say that it left a lasting impression on me."

"Where to, sir?" inquired a voice from above them. Larry had hailed a taxi cart, a sure sign that the Deity didn't need him now.

"The Central Barracks, please," he responded politely, making sure that the cart driver saw his insignia. The driver carried all sorts of people all over the Capital, so he wasn't overly impressed, but could now add more senior non-commissioned officers to the mental list that he kept. Force of habit made Harold give the cart horse a quick once-over, including a good scratch behind the ears that got the other four smiling at him, before he hopped into the cart and they moved into the moderate traffic of other carts, buggies, wagons, and horse riders.

"On a slightly less intense note," said Susan dryly, turning around to look at the Mage, since both bench seats in the cart faced forward, "what are you doing now?"

"I work for a group with the unlikely name of The Order of St. Thrimble," he replied, visibly relieved at being able to direct his thoughts away from Carcosa. "Our chapter is based in Havisham, in the Westlands. We're a small group of Healers who make a circuit of some towns offering extra assistance to the local Healers and doctors. My almost-wife is the Town Healer in Magwitch and we have a daughter who will be seven this June." This got pleasant smiles from the others.

"Has there ever been any military base in the Westlands?" asked Diana. "I know that we have several in various parts of the Kingdom, but all I know about the area is that it's mostly farmland and small towns that support it."

"Not that I know of," Larry mused. They were now approaching the Central Park, one of the main focal points of the Capital, as twilight was deepening into night and the street lights, which were poles enchanted with Mage Light, were coming on. There would be a bonfire, as always, in the middle of the Park to celebrate the Eve of Beltane, and there was already a sizeable crowd and traffic was congested. "Driver, you might as well let us off here. We'll get to our destination faster on foot." The driver was paid off and thanked them warmly for the generous tip.

"Thank you very much for your hospitality," said Harold, offering them the Very Respectful Bow.

"Thank you for helping me," said Diana, planting a sizzling kiss on his lips that left him a little dazed. "We're going to check in at the Barracks and then come enjoy the festivities."

"I'll have a look around, and then make my way to the Memorial," the Mage replied. "I will have to collect my prize in the morning and then take the first coach home that I can. Not much of a vacation, but I'll take what I can get." The other three marched off through the noisy, cheerful crowd and Harold turned to cast his eyes once again on the huge stone pile that used to be a palace, but now served as The Kingdom's Capital School of Magic. A large proportion of the crowd was students and faculty and all of the Mage signatures blended into each other, so for once he didn't stand out. With his hat, staff, large pack, and well-worn traveler's clothes, he looked like a regular person who'd come into the city for the festivities. He moved into a shaded area by a tree that was just starting to leaf and transferred most of the coins in his pockets, save for a few doubloons and pennies for food purchases, into his boots to keep them away from pickpockets. He added a basic protective Ward to his pack, whose charge was tied into the Magic field and would give anyone who tried to tamper with it a painful zap.

"There's not much to see here," he said to himself as someone lit the fire and it started to flame up to loud cheers. The Park was renowned for its gardens and trees, and contained a few specimens of each variety of tree and perennial that would grow here. Early tulips, closed up into their buds for the night, daffodils, and other bulbs were blooming, and the vast numbers of crocus that would make the garden beds look like multi-coloured clouds were already finished.

Assisted by overworked traffic cops, he crossed the Highway that they'd come down to get here and started to walk down North Harbor Road, variations of which all coastal cities seemed to have named the main street that leads to the water. As with the Highway, which was the unimaginative name given to the street that became the road to Havisham and beyond, both sides of the street were lined with an eclectic mixture of storefronts, but these had been built as such rather than converted from houses. There were also a public school, a high school on the other side of the street, and some rather seedy-looking walk-up apartments that he noted as he approached the outer boundary of the Docklands area of the city. He stopped by a coffee shop near the intersection with the Highway and bought a bag of instant coffee to bring back to Leila. He smiled to himself when he imagined her reaction to it, one that would probably lead to hot, hard sex in her bed at the first opportunity.

The harbor itself was in the estuary of the Tignish River, which by the time it reached the ocean was five hundred yards wide and slow-flowing, though much of this width was man-made. The upside was that it offered about two and a half miles on its north and south banks for quays, and the relatively flat land around it meant that there was almost always wind available to power the ships in and out. The tides were only about three feet, which was also helpful. The downside was that it was prone to fog, especially in the Spring when warm, moist air from the south blew over the colder ocean and river water. A lighthouse was placed on each side of the river mouth, with the lights powered by powerful Enchanted Mage Light posts and broadcast out using lenses and mirrors to illuminate both the harbor and out into the ocean as a beacon for incoming shipping.

The Docklands is a U-shaped area about a mile wide around the harbor that contains a large number of warehouses, import/export businesses, stock yards, and shipping and moving companies and their horse-related areas, as well as places where a lot of their workers lived. There was always an active nightlife of the rough-and-ready kind, as well as various illicit activities such as import and excise tax evasion, prostitution, gambling, and so on, that the Federal and Capital Police did their best to clamp down on.

The Magic School was only two miles from the easternmost reaches of the Docklands, but the Mages were left strictly alone to do their business. They identified themselves with a small Mage Light over the palm of one hand to anyone who looked like they wanted trouble, and those newcomers to the area who did not heed the Golden Rule of the Docklands, 'Don't Fuck with the Mages', would be tracked down and paid a visit by the offended party, a Warrior Professor and one or more Warrior students, and would learn why. Healers and non-Mage Physicians operated two clinics, one on the North Side and one on the South Side, to gain practical experience in their craft, and the Veterinarians had one on the South Side near the river mouth where a lot of the transportation companies' horses were kept. Harold had spent a lot of time at all three places during his time at the School and was quite familiar with where things were and how the area worked.

"Things don't seem to have changed all that much," he said to himself as he walked down the sidewalk that was bustling with Beltane Eve revelers. "I wonder if Bruno's is still there?" North Harbor Road approached the river at an angle, and where it met the bank was a large bridge that spanned the river and connected to South Harbor Road. On the north side of the street, at the Sawyer Bridge, was Bruno's 24-hour Butcher Shop, right where it always had been. As usual, there was a small group of street cats and dogs sitting to the left of the door, hoping for handouts. Bruno's always had a collection of chopped up meat scraps in a bowl on the left side of the counter for the soft-hearted such as himself (and why waste good meat?), and he went in, traded two doubloons for what they had, returned outside, cast Worm Buster on them, and offered them to the two dogs and three cats, who gratefully began devouring them. He cast Clean and Flea Buster on them as well, making a marked improvement in their appearance and sending several smoking sparks shooting off of them.

"Fucking mange," he muttered as he spotted a scaly patch on the right side of one of the dogs, and he applied the modified Sterilize spell used to get rid of it. The animals ignored his activities, focusing on eating the meat before someone could take it away. The dogs and cats were tolerated in the Docklands because they kept the vermin under control, and would occasionally find their way into homes as pets.

"So, you're a Healer," said a feminine voice with an unusual accent as he stood up. One of the passers-by had stopped to watch him at work. He offered Polite Bow #1.

"Harold Moser, Doctor of Magical Medicine, at your service, ma'am," he replied. She was about five-foot-nine and was dressed in sailor's clothes: a warm-looking, dark-coloured coat, trousers, gloves, boots, and a knitted wool hat, from under which blonde hair flowed in waves down past her shoulders. Her face was in shadow and he couldn't see it clearly. "And Veterinary Medicine," he added as the cats, finished with their food, were rubbing against his legs and meowing for attention. He carefully knelt, balancing the weight of his pack, and began petting and scratching them. "Come help me, these fuzzballs need more love than one person can give." After a momentary pause, she appeared to shrug and took a step forward, knelt and began attending to the two dogs, which were medium-sized and of definitely mixed parentage.

"I am on shore, seeking treatment," she said as the dogs moaned with pleasure from expert belly rubs. "I was met on the pier by a woman who told me that a tall man with a staff and a pack would be at this location and he would help me."

"And did this woman vanish into thin air shortly after?" he replied. She nodded, her expression unreadable because her face was still in shadow, and he grinned. "I'll bet she's the Goddess who's been keeping a close eye on me today. I just came into town this afternoon on business, could find no taxi carts, had to walk, and wound up helping with a wisdom tooth de-impaction? Un-impaction?"

"Goddesses do that?" she asked, surprised, as the cats enjoyed his ear scratches and pets.

"For me, at least. They want the people under their care to be healthy, and I'm the man for the job. What can I do for you?" The humans had been loved enough, and the cats and dogs got up and trotted away. They both stood up and she turned so that her face was in the light of the nearby streetlight. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he saw the large port-wine stain that was on the left side of her face and continued down her neck under her coat. "Oh, my. Why didn't you get that Healed when you were a child? There's a standard treatment for it."

"I am from Esk, oh, and my name is Greta Mueller, by the way."

"Um, Esk?" Harold racked his brain trying to remember where he'd heard the name before. "Wait, Esk from the other side of the ocean?" he asked, even more surprised.

"From the other side of the ocean," she affirmed dryly. Someone shouted 'Wooo!' from across the street as a large bunch of people, for whom remaining sober on this night was not a priority, passed by. "We are on the first trading ship that's been able to come by for a while. We just finished a civil war and are trying to pick up the pieces and get things going again." Harold made a sympathetic noise and they had to step aside to allow more customers to get to Bruno's. "There weren't many Healers available for the general population, and since my problem was more cosmetic than fatal, it never happened. I joined the crew of the ship and they gave me less of a hard time than everyone else, so there I stayed."

"If you want, I can do it here and now," the Healer offered. "It takes a couple of minutes to set up and then an hour or two to work its way through the affected area, depending on how large it is. If we cross the street, there's a riverbank park where we can stand and not be interrupted."

"That would be fine," she replied, looking astonished. "I did not think it would be that easy."

"I'm always glad to be able to help someone," he replied. They managed to scurry across the street and soon were standing on a thirty-foot-wide belt of grass and what would be flower beds that backed up against a waist-high wooden fence that separated them from a short and none-too-gentle slope down to the water. He removed his pack and let it fall with a thud, stretched and groaned slightly. "Let me do some focusing exercises first. It's been a long day." She smiled tentatively, then watched with interest as he took two steps backward, closed his eyes, and began to move through the Third and Fourth Forms of the Martial Arts they had been taught, which had been specifically designed for the purpose of focusing the mind and eliminating the chatter and clutter of the outside world. Greta could feel his comforting presence, but at the same time there seemed to be an undertone of sadness. Once finished the exercises, which took about five minutes, he then started speaking in a strange language while making complex passes with his hands through the air, with his fingers leaving faint trails of red, brown, dark blue, and light blue as they wove a beautiful pattern that suddenly snapped into a glowing ball in his right palm.

"I will apply this to your forehead," he said calmly, "and the process will begin. Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am," she replied softly. He carefully placed the ball against her forehead and pushed, and suddenly she felt a strange tingling as the spell got to work. "Das ist merkwürdig," she muttered. "It is strange," she translated for his benefit, and he nodded. "My ship is on this side of the harbor," she said as he put on his pack with a grunt and buckled it up. "Would you please to accompany me back to it? I have no idea where I am right now."

"Of course. I'm going that way myself. I was told that there's a new Memorial to those of us who died in the Carcosan War of Liberation," he said dryly, "in the park that's near the lighthouse on this side of the harbor. I want to see it tonight because I am returning home tomorrow." They remained on the current side of the street, which had fewer people on its sidewalk. "You speak Kingdom Standard very well. I'm surprised that people know it as far away as Esk."

"It is commonly spoken amongst the traders," she replied, "because your King Ferdinand was a very sneaky man when he ordered that your language be cleaned up so that what you see on paper is what you say and got rid of most of the weird grammatical irregularities."

"That was about 150 years ago. And you're right, he was being sneaky. He wanted to expand the Kingdom's influence outside our borders, as well as improve literacy and education within, and he was thoroughly fed up with the way things were. The traditionalists put up quite a fight, but the reforms were so simple and logical that they were adopted almost immediately. People in the publishing industry made a fortune reprinting books and translation dictionaries, and the King cost the Treasury many a Sovereign shipping out free two-book sets of dictionary and grammar to our embassies for distribution in other countries. It seems to be paying off."

"Our civil war was essentially driven by Reformers wanting to update and improve conditions for the masses and the rich Old Guard who thought that things were just fine the way they were, since they were the ones benefiting from it. They are now dead and we have been rebuilding everything. It's been a very difficult time."

"I am really sorry to hear that. Most people here have no idea just how fortunate they are in not having to deal with wars. The Argosy Republic, our neighbour to the south, is close enough to us in size and economy that war just doesn't make any sense, especially when trade is much more lucrative. Of course, there's been no shortage of complaints from both sides about 'unfair trading practices' and 'border incidents', but there's also a lot of cooperation when we both stand to benefit."

"Such as Carcosa. We have heard about it, even on our side of the ocean, but it was never made clear what made you two attack them. Piracy can be dealt with on the seas, can't it?" They were now approaching the quays, and the street was starting its gentle slope down to sea level.

"It was because one of their local Gods went insane," Harold replied quietly, and Greta gasped in surprise. He nodded at her reaction. "Do you want to go back to your ship, or continue on to the park? It's not that far away, just across the street and up the hill."

"I see my ship," she said, pointing out a large, two-masted, square-rigged vessel tied to a quay that was further down the road, nearly at the harbor's mouth, "though maybe not for long the way the fog is rolling in." He nodded, as they had both been feeling the cold, moist touch of the condensing fog as they had been walking. "I wish to learn more about your Kingdom. The distance we have to travel makes it hard to learn about other states. And I don't think that you should be alone when you are at this Memorial. I can feel your distress."