The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 09

"There you are," said Captain Paul Smits as all four turned to look at them as they blinked, their eyes adjusting to the daylight. Harold offered the Very Respectful Bow to them, and to his surprise, Paul and Ernst returned it, earning elevated eyebrows from the cops.

"Permission to disembark, Captain?" the Mage asked with a tired smile.

"Permission granted, Healer Harold, with our thanks," Paul replied, offering his hand and giving him a firm handshake, which Ernst repeated.

"I'm glad I was able to help," he replied. "That's what the Kingdom gives me the big bags of Sovereigns for." They all chuckled. "Are there any taxi carts this far down the road?" he asked the cops as he shifted his pack to make it more comfortable. They shrugged, and he nodded, interpreting it as a no.

"Thank you for everything, Harold," said Greta, giving him a hug that was made awkward by his pack. "I have other matters to attend to, but I will come to the Mage School later to buy some books to bring back to our Healers and Physicians."

"They'll give you a small discount for foreign accreditation, especially if you tell them what's been going on back home," he replied. "All in the name of harmonious relations with our neighbours across the ocean." With a polite bow to the cops, who were looking at a handful of papers that were probably a cargo manifest, he turned and made his way down the gangplank, pausing on the quay to wave to Greta and for her to wave back, before he started to walk down the quay towards the street.

There were plenty of carts going back and forth carrying a variety of items to and from the ships, mostly barrels and crates. He passed by the police station, exchanging a friendly nod with another pair of cops who were keeping an eye on things, then walked up the gently sloping sidewalk until he was level with the city, all the while enjoying long-forgotten sights, sounds, and smells. He stopped by Bruno's again, bought some more of the meat scraps, and gave them to a collection of three dogs and two cats who were waiting for someone to give them something. They were a different lot than last night, and he did the usual Worm Buster on the meat and Clean and Flea Buster on the critters. Nobody appeared needing his services, so he continued walking. He'd intended to get on a taxi cart, but even though there were a few plying their trade along the street, the morning was so nice that he kept going. The trees were just opening their leaf buds, as it had been a chilly Spring, and everywhere he looked there were signs that the world was waking up, which cheered him up immensely.

In what seemed like no time at all he found himself standing in front of the Magic School. The building was a former Royal Palace that King Ferdinand had decided was too plain for the Royalty of a Very Important Nation, so he and Queen Isabella had commissioned and partly designed the current Palace that was located on a small hilltop about a mile away with a splendid view of the Tignish River. The former Palace had been bequeathed to the Mages, who had been in rather dire need of a centralized location for their School. It was four storeys tall, with a basement floor as well, and occupied an entire city block with an enclosed lawn and garden where students and staff could rest, wander, or sit at tables to drink coffee, eat, and study with friends. The stone from which it was built was a solid gray granite with window frames and doorways made from the contrasting Svend white granite with green streaks. The architecture was indeed plain, but its massive bulk was somehow comforting to the passers-by with its aura of solid permanence.

Its main entrance faced the Central Park that was across the street, and on its other side, the expansive Central Barracks that served as the main HQ of the Armed Forces of The Kingdom. The Bookstore had a separate entrance to the south of the main entrance that was marked with a tasteful sign, and of course had an entrance from within the building for everyone's convenience. Harold stood at the junction of the sidewalk and the walkway to the main entrance for a moment as many memories competed for his attention, before he finally squared his shoulders and started walking towards the door. The large clock on an elaborate pedestal that was to the left of the walkway read 10:30, and its accuracy was such that people would go out of their way to pass by it to set their pocket watches.

The right door opened inward and the left one opened outward. Both were of a solid, heavy, dark wood and were exceptionally well balanced so that only a minimal effort was required to open them. Closing was handled by a spring-powered gadget at the top of each door, and the sounds of the city outside were effectively muted when the door closed behind him. The floor still had the lovely mosaic of a country garden and the walls and high, vaulted ceiling of the were still painted the calming pastel green with pastel pink trim. After his graduation ceremony, he'd packed up and left the next morning after dealing with the hangover from the party the night before and never looked back. Even the front desk where you had to sign in or show your student ID was the same, just with a different person behind it.

"Good morning, ma'am," he addressed the middle-aged Mage behind the desk, and he knew of course that she could read him as a Mage as well. "I'm Harold Moser, DMM, DMVM, here to collect a prize, probably from the Headmaster's Office," he said after offering her the Very Respectful Bow. "I don't have an appointment because I couldn't get here before closing time yesterday."

"Ah, yes, the Air Sled Prize winner," she replied in a pleasant alto voice, flipping through a book on her desk. She had gray, curly hair cut relatively short, warm brown eyes that appeared to appraise him without moving from his face, a medium-sized nose and mouth with thin lips. He knew from experience that nobody at the Security Desk would be there if they couldn't deal with troublemakers, so he waited politely as she wrote out a pass and handed it to him, together with a safety pin that he used to pin it to his shirt, as he'd opened his coat to keep from overheating. "I must give you credit for a truly unexpected solution to that problem. How on earth did nobody ever think of it before?"

"That thought occurred to me as well," he replied with a smile. "Maybe it's because normal people don't have lustful thoughts when they're needing the Air Sled." She grinned. "Do I go to the Office?"

"Yes, that's the place to start, anyway," she replied. "And I suspect that you have no idea how much chaos you unleashed in here after that paper was published," she added, her eyes twinkling. "Congratulations." He shook her extended hand, now grinning.

"Thank you very much, ma'am," he said with another polite bow. "I'll just slip in and out."

"Oh, there was definitely a lot of that happening," she chuckled and he scurried only slightly hastily past her. As was ingrained in the brains of all who graduated from the Magic School, he knew that the Headmaster's Office, which was the nerve centre of the building, was down the hallway, turn right at the corridor in front of the Auditorium, down a short distance and to the left. There were large windows in the hallway that looked in and large windows that looked out from the office into the garden, and a door that was mostly window was on the right. He pulled it open and strode through, controlling with some difficulty the sense of unease that the place induced, even after thirty years or so. There was a grid of cubbyholes for mail on the right end of the long counter that separated the waiting benches from the warren of rooms that stretched well out of sight of the main area where the secretaries were busy clacking away with typewriters, processing the endless amount of paperwork that they had to deal with.

"Good morning, sir. How may I help you?" a relatively young man behind the desk inquired, looking up from whatever he was typing. He had a name tag that read "G. Watson."

"Good morning," Harold replied politely. "I'm Harold Moser, here to inquire about picking up my Air Sled Prize." Mr. Watson's expression brightened.

"Ah, we were wondering when you'd show up. I'll go get the Headmaster," he replied, standing up and turning to go.

"Sorry for the delay. I only get to check my mail every six weeks or so, since my job has me wandering around the Westlands most of the time."

"No problem at all, Dr. Moser. I'll be right back." The door to the Headmaster's Office was to Harold's left, just out of sight down a corridor that led to several other offices.

"Excuse me, sir?" inquired a voice from his left. He looked where he'd been consciously trying not to look, at the row of plain wooden chairs with well-worn seats that were parked against the far wall, which was the infamous waiting area for those due to see the Dean of Discipline, also known as the Vice-Headmaster. Two miscreants, a young man with curly black hair who was probably about 18, and so in Third Year, and a fresh-faced young woman with shoulder-length brown hair, who was probably in Fifth or Sixth Year, were sitting there, waiting to make the Walk of Shame to the D.D.'s office, which was on the other side of the Reception Office's room.

"Yes? Can I help you?" he replied, smiling amiably as he leaned against the counter, which went up to mid-chest.

"Are you the Harold Moser who created the Third Discipline of Quarterstaff Training?" the young man asked, eyes shining.

"Well, I didn't exactly create any 'Third Discipline'", he replied, eyebrows raised in surprise. "I just pulled together the best of both the Magic School's and the other School's Disciplines to make my own in order to pass my Major Project. Which, now that I say it, does sound like a Third Discipline," he said dryly, rolling his eyes and getting snickers. "But I never did anything like found an actual School for teaching it."

"That's true," the young woman replied, "it was Leila Parsons, Master Sally McGuinty, and Master Frank Parker who set it up and got it rolling. It's very popular here. When you're finished getting your prize and we've finished getting chewed out," she said with a resigned look at the Vice-Headmaster's door, "would you like to come and lead a class with us?"

"We'll do it in the Park just across the street," said the man as the D.D.'s door opened and a dejected-looking First Year girl departed. Harold had far less experience at dealing with adoration than with other reactions, and he was a bit off balance.

"Sure, why not?" he shrugged as they got up and opened the half door that led into the office area. They patted the girl's shoulder as she slunk through it, then went through, allowing it to close behind them. They then abruptly stopped and delivered the Very Respectful Bow to Mr. Watson and a familiar-looking woman wearing the all-too-familiar black and green robes of the Headmaster. When Harold's eyes focused on her face, he realized why - it was Sarah Willoughby. His look of total surprise and consternation caused all four of them, as well as the others in the Reception area, to laugh.

"Shoo, you two," Sarah said to the two students, who hustled into the Vice-Headmaster's Office and closed the door behind them. His brain had a hard time reconciling the current vision of Ms. Prim-and-Proper to the woman who had worked with him to alternately feast on Laura's wonderful tits while the other sucked and licked her pussy. Laura's orgasm had not been enough to leave her too weak to enthusiastically munch on Sarah's pussy when she sat on her face as he had thrust his cock into Laura while fondling and sending little sparks into Sarah's plump, C-sized breasts with medium-sized areolas and long, hard nipples. The combined wave from their very carefully coordinated orgasm had ripped through the camp and caused about twenty minutes of chaos as everyone caught up in it found themselves with a frantic need to fuck. Their Majors Charlie Hopper and Mary Malone had, after chewing out all of the Mages, acceded to their request for separate quarters a safe distance from the main barracks, though the cost that they'd had to pay in subsequent revenge had been high.

"I bask in the glory of the presence of the Headmaster," he said in his most wheedling voice, managing to turn the Very Respectful Bow into a fawning grovel, making them laugh even louder.

"Harold, you belong in the theatre," Sarah said when she recovered her composure.

"At least a third of the Healer's art is convincing the clients that you know what you're doing," he replied as she made her way through the door. "As you well know."

"And speaking of theatre, your award will be presented in the Auditorium. Since I knew you were coming, I had a chance to set up something suitable."

"Oh, my, look at the time!" said Harold hastily, looking at a spot on the wall that definitely didn't have a clock. "I have to catch a coach back to Havisham?" he continued weakly as she held him in an embrace made a bit awkward by his pack. There was no way that he could escape because the door into the office was closed, but she'd seen him weasel his way out of seemingly impossible situations before and had no intention of letting that happen now. He thought that he felt a subtle grind of her abdomen against his leg and her brown eyes had a wicked twinkle that he knew so well, but her robes seem to have hidden it from others' observation.

"Please make the announcement, Gordon," she addressed the man named G. Watson, who cast a modified Amplify spell and spoke through a glowing ring that was six inches in diameter.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you are interested in attending, the presentation of the Air Sled Prize to Dr. Harold Moser will be starting in ten minutes in the Auditorium."

"That includes you folks," Sarah addressed the others in the office, including the two miscreants who had emerged from the Vice-Headmaster's office and the Vice-Headmaster himself. "It's not very often that we get to recognize a significant advance in Magic."

"It's not that significant, is it?" Harold asked as they moved to the door and opened it. The sounds of people in motion were already audible as they turned right, heading back the way that he had come in. The main entrance to the Auditorium was just across the hallway from the lobby area through which one passed from the main entrance to the building, but they stopped at one of the backstage entrances that was off this hall. Sarah produced a key from her pocket, which was awfully convenient, he thought resignedly. He had walked right into the corral and this time there was no way out, with several pairs of eyes carefully watching his every move. He did not like being the centre of attention, preferring to stay in the background as much as possible, free to come and go as he pleased, but when circumstances occasionally put him in the limelight, he opted to play his part well in the hope that it would speed up the process of returning to the shadows. Sarah was able to sense his emotional shift and relaxed as he was ushered through the doorway to the backstage area.

"You'll behave yourself, then?" she asked, giving him a look with her warm brown eyes.

"On my honour, no tricks," he sighed reluctantly, making the military salute. "Let's do this." One of the office staff activated the Mage Lights to show that they were in a large room that was cluttered with all sorts of props and other theatre-related stuff. An open door at the opposite end revealed the five steps that led to the stage, and to their right was a passageway that led to the change rooms. There was considerable noise from the other side of the curtain as what sounded like a large number of people were rapidly assembling and getting themselves seated. "It sounds like there will be quite an audience."

"We're still in the Winter Term, so all the students are here," Sarah replied as she approached a lectern in the middle of the stage that had a suspicious-looking box on it. "You might as well take off your pack," she added with a grin. "It must be getting heavy." He complied, groaning slightly as it slid off his shoulders. He laid it gently to rest on the stage at the corner of the curtains where it wouldn't be visible when they were opened, and added his coat for good measure. Gordon stepped through the curtains where they met in the middle.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to mark this special occasion," he announced to the sea of interested faces. The acoustics of the Auditorium were such that he didn't have to speak too much more loudly than usual. They were all happy to be there because it got them out of their morning classes. "Our Headmaster will present the prize for solving the Air Sled Problem to Dr. Harold Moser, whose truly novel and unexpected solution set off a wave of research into the application of his method to other unsolved problems." There was a wave of quiet chuckles and snickers. One of the people from the office pulled down on the cord that opened the curtains to reveal Sarah at the lectern with Harold standing to her right, still wearing his hat and holding his staff. The audience rose to their feet, applauded briefly, then resumed sitting with murmuring that quickly stilled.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have had the privilege of knowing Dr. Moser since the time that we were both students here in this school, which of course was back in the prehistoric days," she added ironically, getting some laughs. Harold smiled and waved at the audience. "Some of you know of his role in the creation of the Third Discipline of Quarterstaff Martial Arts, which has been widely adopted in the School and generated no small amount of chaos after he and some cronies created it." There was more laughter. "Harold is the picture of a Healer: kind, compassionate, dedicated, and willing to do what it takes to get the job done, even if chaos is a by-product. I won't ask for the details on how you came up with applying erotic energy to provide the stabilization that the Air Sled needs, since there are lots of sweet, innocent, underage kids here." There were complaints and boos from a portion of the audience and laughs from the other portion. "And, since I want you to get back to your classes," she added, pausing to let the moans and groans subside, "I'll get on with it so that Dr. Moser can say a few words."

She opened the finely-crafted wooden box on the lectern and lifted out a plaque that was the size of sheet of paper and made of walnut. A thin sheet of gold foil had been fastened to its top side, on which was fancy scrollwork around the edges. Sarah read the inscription. "This plaque recognizes the contribution to the advancement of Magical Science of Harold Moser, DMM, DMVM, whose innovative solution to the Air Sled Problem has opened up an entirely new field of research. This Prize is given to you with the sincere thanks and congratulations from the Board of Directors of the Capital's Magic School." The applause and cheering were enthusiastic as Sarah gave him the plaque and a chaste peck on the cheek, and even more so when she added a lovely wooden rack of twenty, two-Sovereign coins. He made a show of rubbing the rack against the side of his face with a blissful expression before putting it into his pocket, getting some laughs from the audience and a smile from Sarah.

"Thank you very much, Sarah, um, Headmaster," he said sincerely. "I didn't think that I would enjoy returning to the School after all these years. It's been great to see all of you future Mages," he addressed the audience. "You're in excellent hands with Headmaster Willoughby. She's only evil some of the time," he added in a loud stage whisper, getting laughs from the audience and a withering stare, complete with hands on the hips, from Sarah.