The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 10

"Watch for a big change on the Equinox," Leila murmured. Harold's eyebrows rose. Whatever it was that she'd been remembering, it was intense and he felt his body responding to it.

"What sort of change would that be?" he inquired.

"Huh? Did I say that out loud?" she asked, blinking as her mind reluctantly returned to the present. "Don't worry, I'm OK," she added, noting his concerned expression. "We should get the pie and take it down to the Park." He rather reluctantly agreed. What she really wanted to do was to push him into her bedroom, remove his clothes and for them to fuck each other into total ruin. But everyone at the party would know, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. "I've got a small crate in the basement that we can use to hold it." They returned to the kitchen after she locked the front door. "No snacking!" she admonished, and he put on a crestfallen look.

"I will go outside to remove myself from the temptation," he replied virtuously. Her stare seemed to bore into his head. "On my honour, no tricks," he finally grumbled, knowing that was what she had been waiting for. She cast a Mage Light and opened the door to the basement as he put on his boots again, took his staff from the corner to the right of the door where they had been put after they'd come in, and went outside. He hadn't had anything to eat since this morning, except for a few apples, and that pie smelled just too damned good. Spotting the privy, he decided to use it, knowing the old Army wisdom of never missing a chance to eat, sleep, or use a privy. When Leila emerged a few minutes later and locked the door, she looked around for Harold, quickly spotting his staff leaning against the privy. She left the pie in the crate on the table and took her turn after he emerged, looking relieved. After she came out, she saw him looking in her garden and that the pie was still untouched.

"If the gentleman would care to escort me to the Park, I would be grateful," she said.

"Gentleman? Where?" he replied, looking around, shading his eyes unnecessarily with his hand, since he was still wearing his hat. There was that smile that he so wanted to see. "In the absence of any suitable gentleman, I would be pleased to accompany you." She rolled her eyes and picked up the crate, and they made their way down the path, through the gate, and onto the Main Street of Magwitch. He looked around with interest as they made their way south, seeing the usual collection of stores that one always sees in a small town. There were also plenty of people on the sidewalks, many of whom nodded or otherwise greeted Leila, who returned the greeting.

"It's a wonder that I don't weigh 300 pounds because of them," she said as they passed Cartwright's Bakery, from which very tempting aromas were emerging. Its occupants returned her friendly wave with cheerful smiles. A couple of blocks further on, they saw a sign for the Torres Tailor Shop. "These folks were refugees from Carcosa," she said. "I have no idea what brought them here, but they bought the place from the previous owner, who was retiring, and have been a great addition to the community." Just then, the door opened and a man, a woman, two young girls and a younger boy, emerged. They all had black hair and olive complexions, typical of the Carcosan, and were chattering excitedly in Carcosian. They stopped in their tracks when they saw Harold, as did he.

"Pella? Ramon?" he asked. "You made it out?" Without seeming to have moved, they were suddenly in a three-way embrace, crying their eyes out. The kids and Leila stood there staring, the picture definition of gobsmacked. They broke it after a minute before the kids started to get upset because their parents were crying, but their parents were smiling and happy even though they were crying, which just made them confused. At his mother's request, the boy opened the door and they all went inside to get tissues to wipe their eyes and blow their noses, and Harold Cleaned their hands.

"Healer Harold saved us," said Ramon quietly, as much to his kids as to Leila. "Three of the Yellow Autarch's soldiers had broken my legs and were going to do, uh, bad things to your mother, when he charged around the corner and killed them."

"I never understood why, in the midst of all the chaos and fighting, that they thought that they had the time to do that instead of fighting the invaders, which is what they were supposed to be doing," Harold replied.

"We and our neighbours waited it out in our house, at Healer Harold's direction," said Pella. "Eventually, we were able to gather what stuff that we could and made it down to the harbour and we and a lot of others were able to get on one of the transports that brought them here for a ride back to the Capital. I can't even remember how we came to be here. It's all a blur."

"That is an amazing coincidence," Leila exclaimed, giving Harold a closer look. He seemed so ordinary on the outside, she thought, but the burst of joy that she had felt from him, not to mention his being in the thick of the fighting and killing people, spoke of something much more. She wondered what those strange blue eyes had seen. "If we want to get this pie to the Party, we really should get going. I don't know about Harold, but I am getting rather hungry and I fear that the pie won't make it."

"Nom, nom, nom," said Harold, leering at the pie and leaning towards it, only to have her snatch it away and make him pout comically. "I haven't had more than a few apples since breakfast, and that dress is starting to look good. Nom, nom, nom." This time it was the boy, who looked to be about five, who positioned himself between the Healer and the rack, crossed his arms, and looked fierce. "I haven't met you before, and I've forgotten your names," he said, addressing the kids.

"I am Sylvia," said the oldest daughter, who looked like she would be tall and willowy like her mother. "This is Olivia, and that is Franco." He gravely shook their hands.

"I am very pleased to meet you. We will be seeing more of each other, as I am now working for the Order of St. Thrimble and will be in town every six weeks or so. Magwitch is the last stop before I return to Havisham," he added. They trooped outside and Ramon locked the shop's door. They continued down the sidewalk, joining the stream of others who were making their way there. They passed a hotel on the other side of the road with a nice, tasteful sign naming it as the Village Inn. "That looks like a nice place to stay, and it's conveniently close to the Park," he said innocently.

"Visiting Healers always enjoy the hospitality of the Town's Healer," said Leila firmly, not meeting anyone's gaze. The volume of noise had been steadily increasing as they approached the Town's Central Park. Harold noted the sign of Turner's Veterinary Clinic across the street, but had to direct his attention to where he was going. "That place is nice, but expensive, especially the restaurant. Ah, here we are." There was a large octagonal gazebo in its centre, and the large area had many tall, shady trees and flower gardens. It also had a lot of people in it, with more coming every minute, many holding things that held food. The park's picnic tables had been lined up along the south side bordering a small river, while other tables had been set up beside them to extend the line all the way from one end to the other. A small band in the gazebo was playing cheerful music that was mostly audible over the noise of conversations.

"Where will you put the pie?" he asked Leila as the Torres family split off to greet some friends. "I want some now. If we wait, there won't be any left when we get to it!"

"You are very obsessed with pie, Mister Moser," she replied with a grin as they steered their way towards a point in the line of tables. "The desserts always go here at this end." Fortunately, it was very close to the sidewalk of Main St.

"Hello, Leila," said the middle-aged woman behind the table as she made some space between other pies, gelatin desserts, cakes, and plates of sweets. Harold dutifully lifted the pie from her crate and put it on the table. "Thank you very much for the pie. There won't be any left when the party is over."

"There won't be any left if I turn my back on this creature, Sheila," Leila replied with a smile, giving Harold a poke. He tried to look innocent, failing comically. "I want to exercise baker's privilege and have a small slice now for each of us."

"If my husband looked at me like you're looking at that pie, I'd know I wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight," Janice purred as she used a knife to deftly create two small slices and lifted them onto two small plates from a stack, then handed them each a fork. "That's great flaky crust," she added.

"I'm Harold Moser, the new Healer with the Order of St. Thrimble, and the contributor of the crust to this creation," he introduced himself, accepting a plate and, with the greatest restraint, taking a small piece with the fork and putting it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned softly as the flavors generated the taste buds' equivalent of an orgasm. "OK," he continued as he opened his eyes, to see Sheila and Leila looking at him with amused expressions, "I will finish the rest of this slice, and then we will move on. On the one hand, I want to devour every crumb, but in so doing I would make myself horribly sick, which would be an unforgiveable waste."

"My husband Robert is like that with my fudge," Sheila replied with a wink as she watched the two Healers make short work of their pie slices. Harold Cleaned the plates and forks and they handed them back. "I can't make it too often, and only for parties or family gatherings, and he's very protective of it."

"Thank you very much, Sheila," said Leila. "We'll see you around."

"Any more of that pie and I'll definitely be round," he said, getting a push from Leila and a snicker from Sheila. "Next chance I get, I will make some oatmeal raisin cookies. It is physically impossible to keep from eating less than four."

"We'll see about that," she replied, already looking forward to losing the gluttonous challenge. Oatmeal raisin happened to be one of her favourite cookies, to which she reacted nearly as strongly as he had reacted to her pie.

There was a carefully-tended fire in a pit near the river upon which was a large pot resting on a stand that was full of boiling water, and whose purpose was to cook cobs of corn that were supplied from the farm of the hosts. A large glass jar for "tips" was on the table and it was already filling with pennies and doubloons, one of the latter being contributed by Harold for a cob for each of them, generously buttered and salted and well worth the expense. Slices from a side of beef, along with cooked potatoes and vegetables, made the transit from table to plate to stomach, as coins made the transit from pocket to jars in response. They earned some free goodies by Cleaning plates and cutlery as well.

All the time they were eating, greeting, chatting, and circulating, Harold noticed that Leila was scanning the crowd, clearly looking for someone. After eating any more had become physically impossible, they waddled off towards the gazebo where various citizens had parked themselves on the grass. It was there that they finally picked up the signature of another Mage, and Leila perked up. An elegant, elderly woman was seated on a folding chair and chatting and shaking hands with people who were coming by, all of whom were looking rather sad and concerned.

"This is your grandmother, Marcie Parsons?" he asked Leila quietly. She nodded. Marcie had noticed their arrival and turned toward them.

"Hello, Leila. I was wondering when you'd show up," she said with a friendly smile directed at Harold. "Who's your companion?"

"Gran, may I introduce you to Harold Moser, the new Healer from the Order of St. Thrimble." Harold offered the Very Respectful Bow, causing her to raise her eyebrows.

"You're a polite one," she commented. Despite the noise from the party, her voice was clear and audible. "You're older than the usual newbie too. Only Hendrix is about your age." Harold had heard of Hendrix and hoped to be able to meet him one day. The rotation schedule pretty much ensured that the only other Healer he'd meet was Lakash Moto, the head of the Order, when he returned to Havisham. "In all my years, I can't remember anyone who walked around with a staff. At my age, it's all canes."

"I wouldn't want to tangle with you and your cane, if you had one," he replied with a grin, making a point of searching around her for a cane, but only finding a plate and fork that she had been using to eat something. "Even Leila would give me a run for my money, once she got a little more practice in." Leila scowled at him, but it had no effect.

"She is an avid practitioner of the Quarterstaff Discipline that you cobbled together and has been very keen to meet you," Marcie replied with a slightly evil glint in her eyes, ignoring her granddaughter's none-too-subtle shushing motions. They paused while an older couple stopped to offer Marcie their respects, saying how good it was to have known her and how they'd miss her, before moving on. "Word has been spreading that it's my Last Day," she added. "Did Leila tell you?" Harold nodded.

"The Goddess came to you last night to tell you. I was sorry to hear that I wasn't going to get to know you better." She could sense that he was telling the truth and not just being polite. "I don't know if it's just coincidence, but I've gotten the feeling that your Goddess plays a more active role in her domain than others that I've met." Marcie nodded in return.

"She has never given me a straight answer, but I'm convinced that she was somehow responsible for luring me to Magwitch in the first place, and making sure that I was conveniently nearby when someone had a medical emergency that I could deal with." Harold and Leila had both had many similar experiences and exchanged a look.

"That's how I came to meet so many of them in my wanderings," said Harold. "We serve the Deities, and they aren't shy about reminding us." Marcie remembered the times when the Goddess had shown up needing her back and neck worked on that had always ended with their enthusiastically devouring each other's pussies with plenty of stimulating sparks in all the right places. She remembered licking and sucking the Goddess' cock from a tiny nub to its full size of about seven inches, to be followed by having its stuffed into her needy pussy and thrusting and squirting her into a total ruin. She remembered the one and only time that she had ruined the Goddess when she'd hidden a Joy Buzzer under her pillow and drilled it into her perfect asshole while devouring her pussy, and remembered the Goddess' "revenge" the next time when she had brought her own Joy Buzzer. Her mind suddenly returned to the present and she saw both Harold and Leila staring at her, wide-eyed. She found herself blushing in the waning light of the day as she realized that they must have been picking up on her feelings.

"Um, yes, will we find you here when it's time to go home?" Leila asked. Marcie opened her mouth to answer, just as the band started to play a loud, jazzy fanfare. "Oh, that's my cue to cast the Amplify spell for the speeches," she added, rolling her eyes. There was murmuring and the sound of people moving to gather around the gazebo, on which two women and a man had joined the band members. "Excuse me." Harold bowed politely, grinning cheekily at her eye roll, and she strode off around the gazebo to its other side where the stairs to the platform were.

"The small woman in the red coat and hat is Miranda Keystone, the current Mayor," said Marcie. "The man is Ralph Emerson, a Councilor who runs these events, and really should be a chef someday, as he is an excellent cook." Harold nodded. "The other woman is Kim Blandford, the other Councilor and occasional Mayor. Her and Miranda's relationship is rather testy." Harold could see that the two were doing the best that they could to ignore each other. They watched Leila appear on the stage, go through the motions and say the words to cast the spell. A glowing ring of light appeared in mid-air and she stretched it to an arm span wide, rotated it to be parallel to the stage, and lifted it over her head so that people underneath it would be able to speak and be heard. She got a round of applause for her effort, which Harold suspected always happened.

"Can everyone hear me?" she asked. "Time for the speeches!" The theatrical groans from the crowd indicated that they could hear her just fine.

"You look like the sort of rascal who would abuse that spell to tell bad jokes," Marcie said, snickering at his look of innocence. Butter couldn't possibly melt in the mouth of this man, his batting eyelashes seemed to be trying to tell her. She had no doubt that this was as genuine as a three-Sovereign coin. Her lifetime of interpreting body language as part of diagnosing patients made his increasing unease as people moved closer to the gazebo to get a better look at its occupants stick out like a sore thumb, even though he presented a relatively relaxed outward appearance. Those strangely blue eyes of his were in constant motion as he casually looked around, seeking the path that would let him exit quickly. Her Mage sense felt that his presence was warm, comforting, and strong, despite his leaning towards mischief, but only confirmed the discomfort that he was feeling.

"You don't like crowds, do you?" she told him, pitching her voice so that only he would hear it. He startled, almost imperceptibly, and turned his attention to her. Marcie could see over his shoulder that the crowd was parting a bit to allow Leila to return.

"You read me like an open book." She nodded and smiled, wordlessly encouraging him to continue. "I never liked crowds to begin with, but I got caught in a stampede during the fighting in Carcosa and was totally crushed in a packed-in, panicking crowd of civilians in a plaza that was being compressed by Carcosan soldiers at one end and a large unit of ours at the other who were trying to get at each other. I nearly suffocated before our lot realized what was happening and moved away to allow them to disperse among the side streets." He turned to see that Leila was listening as well. "I could not move. I could barely breathe. I could not cast the Ward spell to protect myself. I was panicking just as badly as all the others, and it seemed to be a miracle that more didn't die, including myself," he continued over the sounds of the Mayor speaking about something and the crowd reacting with amusement to it. Even in the waning daylight, they could see that he had gone pale and was shaking a bit. "The logical part of my brain that sees that the people are enjoying themselves and are not the least bit threatening is doing what it can to soothe the animal part that wants so badly to run to safety."

He closed his eyes, took two deep breaths, and concentrated on imagining himself going through the Ninth and Tenth Quarterstaff Forms, a calming practice that he used in moments of stress like this. "The crowd is stationary. They are not moving toward me. I am one among them," he murmured, and finally opened his eyes after a couple of minutes. He drew upon the feeling of amusement and enjoyment that the citizens of Magwitch were expressing, as well as the calming, steadying influences of Leila and Marcie, to regain his equilibrium. "I'm sorry to have exposed you to that," he said, noting their wide-eyed stares. He would have been radiating his feelings like a blast furnace.

"No, no, it's fine," Leila assured him with an uncertain smile. "As Healers, we have to deal with mental trauma, as well as physical trauma. As you know, of course," she added with an eye roll.