The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 11

"What do you two plan to do today?" Leila asked Mark and Stella.

"Go home, get some rest, and maybe do some shopping," she replied and they both suddenly looked tired again. "Smithing requires knowledge as well as physical skill, and it's doubly tiring when you're trying to learn both at the same time."

"I get to learn about all the finer points of horse health and care from Dad, as well as from the Webber Transportation staff, how to put tack on horses and then hitch them to wagons, how to balance a load and tie it down, wagon inspections, and on and on," Mark groaned, rubbing his temples and getting a sympathetic squeeze from Stella. "I had no idea how much work is required just to move stuff around. And on alternate days I'm in the smithy, studying books about it with Stella, and trying out Metal Magic spells from the textbook that Mom sent me. Today will be a very welcome day off!"

"You seem to have the knack for Metal Magic," said Harold ruefully, unconsciously giving his right hand a shake. He'd hurt it enough when he'd tried one of the simple spells and it had backfired that Leila had had to Heal him, showing Mark the process in the bargain. "Metal, Healing, and Veterinary Healing makes a very unusual combination. At least you've found your mandatory Breadth Requirement courses."

"I think that we will take this aching head home and rest it for a while. You've definitely earned a rest day," said Stella, putting a strong arm around his shoulders, and they turned and started to walk away. "Enjoy the Solstice Day!" they said over their shoulders.

"You too!" chorused Harold, Leila, and Marcie. Her friend Donna had disappeared back to her parents and they were by themselves. "Time to go back home for some more sleep," he yawned and stretched, noting how they followed suit. Then he saw the gong, still on the gazebo's stage, and he got an all-too-familiar look of mischief. "I know that a gong isn't really a musical instrument, so I'm wondering what sort of noise it will make when I hit it."

"My school play needs some sound effects," said Marcie thoughtfully. "Most of Papa's noises are Not at All Suitable, but maybe this one could be." Leila shrugged and they started walking toward it.

"Just keep him away from the drums. You know how he likes making farting noises with them."

"Boys grow older, but they don't grow up," they said together. Harold's look of outraged innocence was too much for them and they started laughing.

"Oh, here comes trouble," said Kim Blandford dryly. "You want to play with the gong, don't you?" They had stopped at the foot of the stairs. Fred, Brenda's large and amiable husband, looked bemused as he held the baby. All of them on the stage were familiar with at least some of Harold's weird repertoire by now. After an evening concert a week ago, he'd somehow managed to sneak onto the stage and fast-talk his way into putting on his musical comedy act, well-honed from years of traveling and earning some food to eat at taverns. He'd had no trouble getting the musicians to go along with it and despite the initial embarrassment that he'd caused his wife and daughter, they were soon laughing as hard as the rest of them at his puns, pratfalls, and merry mangling of popular tunes.

"You're not going to do that again, are you?" Leila had asked later, after Marcie had been put to bed. He had been flat on his back with his upper arms pinned to the bed by her large, strong hands. She had mounted him and was riding his cock, which was hot and hard, just as she liked it. Her almost D-sized tits with their pink, quarter-inch nipples and medium-sized areolas were swaying forward and backward, just out of reach of his questing tongue. She expertly squeezed and relaxed her grip on his cock, making him moan raggedly.

"I will if they ask me," he had managed to reply. He had been letting her have her way with him and had been enjoying every moment of the sweet torment. Outside, rain had rustled and pattered. "Laughter is the best medicine, is it not?" His unusual blue eyes had been fixed on her bright blue eyes that were half closed as her orgasm was coming on like a stampede, with no way to stop it now. She had lost some altitude over him and her left breast lowered enough for him to give it and its rock-hard nipple a long, lazy lick, along with a little spark of Magic that caused her to clench hard, locking him in place, and she'd felt every pulse and squirt of his cum as it splashed against her cervix. She had dropped onto his chest, barely avoiding bonking heads, and he had held her tight as he'd rolled sideways so that they could lie next to each other. "You and Marcie were rather grumpy all day, and all I wanted to see was your smiles."

"You awful man," she had murmured, already half asleep in the warmth and security of his loving embrace. "You actually enjoyed being silly in front of everyone." She had been so far gone that she'd only grunted as he'd Cleaned them and the mess that they'd made.

"Oh, I most definitely did, my love," he had replied as they'd both conked out.

"Yes, please," he replied with Polite Bow #3. "Believe it or not, in all of the years of my travels, I have never encountered a gong. I have no idea of what horrible noise I will create with it."

"Let's get the baby a safe distance away," said Fred with his deep, mellow voice. "This, I definitely have to hear, but not this close." He grinned and scooped up the inevitable bag of baby paraphernalia and he and Brenda decamped from the gazebo, as did Kim, leaving only Lakash. Harold climbed the stairs and rather hesitantly relieved him of the mallet. Holding his staff in his left hand, he struck the gong with the mallet in his right hand and produced a deep, rumbling, nasty belch that made him think of a chorus of beer-swilling soldiers, both male and female, in Margrave just north of the Argosy border, each trying to belch the longest. There was scattered laughter from the people streaming by.

"Do it again, Healer Harold," someone encouraged, so he did, striking a different part of the gong this time and getting a different timbre of belch.

"That's enough, Harold," said Lakash, his brown eyes twinkling as he deftly snatched the mallet out of the other Healer's hand. "We will keep the gong here because we have to strike it to mark the sunset. Do you promise to not play with or strike this gong anymore?" He whined and pouted, but had to relent under the pressure of five basilisk stares.

"Fine, on my honour, no tricks," he finally sighed, saluting Lakash in the military way, with his clenched right fist over his heart, knuckles up, making sure that the others witnessed it.

"Otherwise, it will be your head that gets knocked by that mallet," Leila warned, unable to suppress a grin at his expression. Of course, they all knew that a Mage's word was his bond and Harold knew that he'd be unlikely to get closer to the gazebo than Turner's Veterinary Clinic, which was across Main Street from the Park.

"I'm thinking that the best birthday present of all would be a Big Birthday Nap," he wheedled as the three made their way back up Main St. in the early morning light. "Not a noisy party."

"Nope!" Marcie replied, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn. "My whole class will be coming over at about five o'clock. It's what we always do."

"Don't worry, Harold," soothed Leila at his alarmed expression. "Each of the stomachs with legs will bring something to eat. I ordered a birthday cake from Cartwright's Bakery that should be ready at around lunch time. Will you be able to pick it up this afternoon?"

"It depends on how many farm calls I have to make," he responded as they neared the bakery shop, "but I think that I can." The Cartwrights had far too many delicious temptations on display and he was certain that at least one of them would wind up in his stomach before he left the place. He did what he could to avoid walking past them, but the constant need for bread kept them going in two or three times a week. Since he was no longer spending most of his days walking from town to town, he'd had to adjust his diet to keep from maxing out, but they had the well-earned nickname 'The Destroyer of Diets'. The proprietors were already up and working to get the morning bread made, and they exchanged friendly waves as they walked past the store front. Fortunately, it was still too early for the temptations. "How do they do it? Up every day at this time!"

"I suppose that you get used to it," Marcie said thoughtfully. "We have our routines and they have theirs. It's only when the routine gets disrupted that we have problems." She yawned again.

"It's getting close to five o'clock now, with only about an hour and a half before our day usually begins," Harold added, yawning and stretching as they approached the house. The birds and squirrels were already active and they even saw a skunk making its way across their lawn, no doubt heading for its den somewhere down the street. "I never know whether it's worth it to go back to bed or to stay up and get some extra stuff done." They waited for the animal to move far enough away to not feel threatened.

"I can have a look at the Journal of Medical Magic that came yesterday," said Leila as they approached the kitchen door. "I'll let you know if there's anything veterinary-related." They went inside and removed their shoes and, for Harold, boots.

"I'll go back to bed," Marcie yawned again, visibly drooping. "I want to be ready for my birthday." She went to her bedroom and was asleep shortly after getting into bed without bothering to get undressed. Her parents exchanged a glance.

"More coffee," they said together, grinning at each other. Tonight, they would be going to bed as early as they could manage, but until then they'd power their way through the day as they had for much of their time in Magic School, where the phrase "there's too much blood in my coffee system" was almost like a mantra. Of course, the experience isn't quite the same when you're in your late forties and mid-fifties as it was when you're in your late teens and early twenties, as they were acutely aware.

The small amount of wood that had been used to heat the water for their first coffee had burned down to embers, so more was put into the stove and after a few minutes it was giving off enough heat to get the kettle warming. The morning sun was shining through the open window, which had a metal mesh screen to keep out the bugs, and the ambient sounds of a slowly waking community filtered through the crackling of the wood in the stove. Hot water was poured into their mugs, quickly followed by the last of the powdered coffee that Harold had brought at the fateful visit before their wedding. He'd arranged for it to be bought from a coffee shop, one of very many near the Magic School in the Capital, and its aroma brought back memories to both of them as they drifted outside to sit at two of the four chairs around the rectangular table that was on the stone-flagged patio. No Journal of Medical Magic accompanied them and they sat at the table, basking in the morning sun, sipping their coffee.

"What do eleven-year-old kids do at birthday parties?" Harold asked after a few minutes of companiable silence. "Marcie is approaching that age where anything that I do will be Mortally Embarrassing, and all that I can think of is leading them through a Form or two, which I'm sure would thrill them to bits," he concluded dryly. "How many of them are there, anyway?"

"Twenty, including Marcie," Leila replied thoughtfully. "Don't sell that idea short. It's something that they wouldn't have done before, and something other than the usual boring party games might be welcome. Of course, we'd have to find nineteen staves, and they could take theirs home as a party favour instead of the usual junk." She gave him a Significant Look.

"Of course, by 'we' finding the staves, you mean me." He grinned at her, and she smiled back.

"It's as if you can read my mind." He loved that smile and couldn't get enough.

"What do you think is on my mind?" he inquired, giving her his filthiest leer.

"The same thing that's always on your mind," she replied, rolling her eyes skyward, where she saw some puffy cumulus clouds slowly drifting from the northwest. Not that she didn't want him to follow through with the leer's promise of the licking, sucking, and fucking that would leave her lying pleasantly ruined in their bed, but there wasn't time for that today. Not to mention the risk of getting busted by Marcie, as she had no idea when she would get up and want breakfast.

"Come to think of it," Harold continued thoughtfully as he saw that Leila would not succumb to temptation, "five-foot garden stakes would serve the purpose just as well and I know that the General Store has them. I have no idea where to look for one staff, let alone nineteen, and it would be a total waste if they all wound up in a corner." Leila nodded. "You and Marcie have been leading the class at the community centre for some time and have yet to lure any of her classmates in, have you?"

"No, we haven't. The bunch that shows up on Sunday mornings to practice outside, despite your silly attempts to evade being the leader," she added, giving his cheek a pat with her hand, "are the core of the group, and we have others come and go at the community centre, but never the kids."

"Knowing my luck, they'll all think it's great and then I'll be roped into leading some gym classes," he muttered darkly. "But then again, I can have a trained army of staff-wielding munchkins and use them to take over the town, then the - mmph!" Leila had pulled him in for a kiss and they enjoyed the sensations of the sun warming their skins as they sat side by side with their empty mugs on the table and a gentle breeze ruffling their hair and rustling the leaves of nearby trees.

"Maybe I will take you up on your offer," she murmured, giving him a hot stare.

"Daughter appears in three, two, one..." Harold replied with a hot stare of his own, and right on cue, the kitchen door opened and there stood Marcie, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

"Hi, Mama. Hi, Papa," she said. "I can't sleep any more. Can we have breakfast now?" Her parents exchanged a glance and Papa had a familiar knowing smirk.

"We might as well," said Leila, and they both stood up and stretched. "Papa and I were just talking about what you and your friends could do at your party this afternoon." They went inside, closed the door, and saw that the kitchen clock said quarter-past six. The wood in the stove that had been used for their coffee had become mostly glowing embers, so some more had to be added and lit with an Ignite Fire spell to get the heat coming again.

"Would your friends be interested in learning the First Form of the quarterstaff?" Harold asked. "You've already mastered it and can help me lead them through it. We'd have to use garden stakes instead of real staves, since they're hard to come by." Leila measured water from the pump into a pot and put it on the stove to boil. It would be oatmeal with raisins again for breakfast which wasn't her favourite, but she was getting hungry again and knew it would fill her up. "Or maybe competitive napping?" he added hopefully. "First one to sleep gets a prize?"

"Nice try, Harold," sighed Leila, rolling her eyes. Marcie giggled at his pout.

"I think that they might," she replied. "I will tell them in school so that they'll know ahead of time. Some of the usual games are getting rather lame," she added as she went to the mug cupboard, grabbed the front three, and put them on the table. Harold had measured out the oatmeal and raisins and dumped them into the pot as the water started to boil, at which point it was moved to the coolest part of the stove in order to cook. "But I still want Donut on a String! That's my favourite!"

"Which means that I have to get donuts from Cartwright's Bakery along with the cake. Or maybe we don't need cake this year?" Marcie crossed her arms and gave Papa her best Stern Look, which was an accurate replica of the one Leila used when he was being silly. "We can put frosting on them and spell out 'Happy Birthday Marcie' with them," he wheedled.

"Nope! Cake and donuts! And no Vegetable Cake, real cake!"

"No bed of crunchy vegetables smothered in sweet frosting?" Now both of his women were shaking their heads, unable to stop smiling at his pouting, huffing, sighing, and silly faces. That he was walking with an unbattered body was a testament to his never actually having tried this idea, but it always got Marcie wound up and sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

"Get the bowls, brown sugar, and milk, you awful man!" Leila admonished, waving the wooden spoon under his nose, then snatching it away when he tried to bite it. "Don't worry, I already ordered two dozen donuts to go with the cake, as usual."

Having Harold at home all the time had been an adjustment for everyone, but Marcie was happier for it. The warmth and comfort of their love felt so good, like it did now as Harold got the bottle of milk from the ice box, the tin of brown sugar from a cupboard, and bowls and spoons from another cupboard and a drawer. Leila filled the bowls with oatmeal, they applied liberal amounts of sugar to the top, and Papa poured milk into the mugs.

"How many appointments do you have today, Mama?"

"Only three, but they all should be relatively straightforward and will leave me time to get things set up for your party this afternoon. How about you, Harold?"

"I never know until I get to the Veterinary Clinic to see who's sent a request for help, then see how far out I have to ride to get to them, and so on. If I'm lucky, I'll be tied up all day and not be able to go to the bakery for cake and donuts." Marcie's stare, with those odd blue eyes that were so similar to his, made him twitch and get a shifty look.

"Mama, I think Papa actually wants to be at the party and is pretending that he doesn't."

"That's very perceptive of you, Marcie," said Leila, with an approving smile. "I've been feeling his emotions all morning. This is the first birthday that he's been home in quite some time."

"Am not," Harold replied, not very convincingly. He checked the kitchen clock, which had chimed the hour and somehow worked its way around to 7:00. "We've got an hour and a bit to kill before it's time to go to school. Have you got any homework to do?"

"Not from school, but Ms. Keystone gave me a book about Bridge and I've been going through it. It was written for grown-ups and has lots of stuff about theory that I don't understand, but it has lots of example hands that help."

"It is considered to be one of the best books on the game," said Leila. In fact, a new copy, ordered from the bookstore, was wrapped up and sitting in a dark corner of the basement, waiting to be given to her as a birthday present. Miranda had told her how pleased she was at Marcie's progress, and Leila had just shaken her head. "When we play cribbage, Harold and I have to team up just to have a chance at keeping up with her. At last, we've found a challenge for her."

"You do that. I'll continue proof-reading the textbook on Equine Anatomy that my unfortunate students are going to have to learn from, now that I've had enough coffee to concentrate on it."

"I've got my Journal of Medical Magic to read. We can all sit outside and read together." The time passed quickly and pleasantly. The patio table was the same size as the kitchen table, and Marcie put herself at one end, opened her book to an example, laid out the cards in the hands on the table, and proceeded to work through the example, which showed how the hand had been played and then how it could have been played better. Her parents exchanged a smile at the look of concentration on her face.