The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 12

A note to the reader: I decided to include both Part 2 and Part 3 in one story, rather than two. Together, they are a bit longer than Part 1.

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Harold the Healer, Chapter 11: Part 2: Afternoon

It had been a long morning for Leila Parsons, who had been until recently the only Healer in Magwitch. Having to get up at dark o'clock so that she, her husband Harold, and their daughter Marcie could make their way to the Central Park for the Summer Solstice Sunrise Ceremony (she always smiled at the alliteration) was always taxing. Nellie Nix, who ran the Town's massage parlor, had had a hand that had been badly mauled by a stray dog and needed extensive repair. Ann Branson had to be sent to the hospital to get a small, suspicious lump in one of her breasts checked. Most distressingly, Isobel Dupont also had to be sent to the hospital, but for a blood test to see if they could figure out what sort of blood cancer she most probably had. Strangely, she couldn't remember having made the appointment with Isobel; it had been there in her book when she'd opened it this morning. Harold could have probably told her right away, but he hadn't been here at the time. Then Nellie had come back, bringing her partner Myrtle Stanfield, so that they could both learn the technique of squeezing, licking, and stroking breasts that was very effective at bringing a woman to orgasm.

Leila had had to exercise extreme restraint while demonstrating, since she had to teach rather than devour their luscious pussies that had been swollen with the effects of the massaging. The vigorous Cleaning that she'd had to apply to herself after they had finished had helped cool her down, and making lunch for herself and Marcie had been a distraction, but the morning events had awoken her dragon, and the only way to get it back to sleep was to fuck it. She had shopping to do for the party, but this came first and it wouldn't take long.

She found herself in her bedroom without remembering going there from the kitchen. She pulled the top drawer of her dresser open, reached in to the very back where she hoped that Marcie didn't snoop, and pulled out her Joy Buzzer. It was as thick as Harold's cock, the one that she wanted to have thrusting and squirting its hot cum her right now, but couldn't because he was Goddess-knows-where, and two inches longer than his seven. Its body was made from two pieces of dark-coloured wood, hollowed out to contain a clockwork mechanism and carved with many strategic bumps and ridges. The mechanism was wound by twisting the head a few times and activated by pressing one of the bumps. In addition to vibrating, the head turned and it was shaped so that it helped drill right into where it was needed the most. Her dark blue shorts and already damp panties quickly found their way to the floor and she laid herself on the bed, not bothering to remove her matching pale blue blouse. She opened her legs wide, exposing her trimmed copper-coloured bush and swollen pussy to the air. Within moments, the Joy Buzzer had been wound and stuffed inside to work its magic.

Her thoughts were initially of Nellie and Myrtle's delightful breasts that she'd had to lick and squeeze in just the right way to show the other how to do it, and how the masseur's hand had gone to the subject's pussy and worked on it at just the right time to enhance the orgasm. As she held the Joy Buzzer with her right hand, moving it in and out and making sure to rub the vibrating thing across her sweet spot and clitoris from the inside, her left hand was rubbing and stroking her clitoris from the outside, sending in a few sparks of Magic just like Harold would do from his cock.

Like two nights ago, after a long day in which an unwilling Marcie had finally been put into bed ("but it's still light out!") and she'd fallen asleep almost immediately, they had drifted outside in the gathering dusk and cast Bug Attractor spells to lure the ever-hungry mosquitoes to where the ever-hungry bats could swoop in and gobble them up. They had brought a bottle of white wine and three glasses (one for the Goddess, of course) and enjoyed each other's company, sharing what had happened that day. He'd gotten up and started massaging her neck and shoulders, which had badly needed help, and before long, he had moved down to her breasts and arms.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she had murmured as his little sparks of turquoise and forest green slipped into her muscles as he squeezed and kneaded.

"Maybe not the trying part," he had replied, a smirk audible in his voice as he had gently stroked her earlobes in the way that she liked, then bent down to kiss her. That had done it, setting her pussy on fire as he had known that it would. His glowing cock had been tenting his pants right in front of her eyes, and said pants had been undone and pulled down. As she remembered greedily gobbling it up, she shoved the Joy Buzzer in as far as it would go, gave herself a spark and clamped down hard on the vibrator as her first orgasm roared through her. She moaned loudly, just as he had when she had done to him what she knew that he liked. She kept the Buzzer going in and out as she remembered how he had teased her by slowly and deliberately removing her blouse and bra, stroking and squeezing her breasts and ignoring the needy furnace between her legs until she had shoved him away, hauled down and discarded her pants and soaking panties, and pulled him down onto her as she all but fell onto the grass. Just as he had stuffed his cock into her in one thrust, she stuffed the Joy Buzzer into her as far as it would go and clamped his pillow over her face to mute the noise as she came like an avalanche.

"Oh, maybe that wasn't such a good idea," she muttered blearily, lying on the soft, wonderful bed, her half copper, half silver hair all mussed up. It would be so, so easy to just close her eyes and drift off to the sleep that her body so desperately needed, but she knew that if she closed her eyes, they would open and see Marcie's face front and centre asking why she was sleeping and not working on her party. Another much-needed Clean spell on her pussy and panties, the bed, and the Joy Buzzer cleared the cobwebs from her brain and she managed to get herself dressed, put the Joy Buzzer away, and brush her hair to make herself look presentable. "I'm a lucky woman to have a man who can also give me memories that I can use to get myself off with," she added as she returned rather shakily to the kitchen for a drink of water from the pump and to grab a cloth shopping bag from the hook on the other side of the basement door.

She locked the front door as the kitchen clock chimed one o'clock, then went out the kitchen door, locked it, and made a hasty visit to the privy before walking down the stone-flagged path at the side of the house, through the gate, and down to the street. There was a lot of activity on Main Street, as there always was not just on Solstice Day, and as she stood at the corner, waiting for a chance to cross, she started feeling Harold's signature approaching. She turned and saw him nearing the corner, carrying two boxes stacked on top of each other and with his staff floating in the air beside him. She smiled and raised her left arm to wave at him.

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Summer Solstice has the most hours of daylight, and is also the longest day of the year for all of the citizens of Magwitch who choose to get up to attend the Summer Solstice Sunrise Ceremony. Said sunrise this year was at the always ungodly hour of 4:32 and Harold Moser, Leila, and their daughter Marcie had gotten up an hour before then. They had had a snack and the parents had consumed the first of several cups of coffee that would be required to sustain them before making their way to the Central Park to witness the sunrise. Having spent many years wandering around The Kingdom, Harold had witnessed many sunrises, and the simple magic of watching shadows coalesce out of nothing as the sun rose never failed to move him.

Today was also Marcie's eleventh birthday, which added complications because he had to perform related duties instead of getting some much-needed rest, such as transporting the all-important birthday cake and two dozen donuts home and putting them in the basement where they would be kept cool despite the warmth of the summer day. His restorative coffee and chicken pot pie at Macy's Diner would help to ward off the temptation to sample the donuts. Each of the many Cartwright Bakery's nicknames, such as "The Destroyer of Diets", was well-earned. He wondered if Leila would be home and if they would be able to have some naked time before he had to go out to the General Store to get garden stakes for the kids to use while he led them through the First Form, but he suspected that if they became horizontal, they would fall asleep instead of getting frisky.

He was just approaching Willow Street, across which was their home, when he picked up Leila's signature and in the next second looked up to see her at the corner, looking like she was about to cross Main Street once a break in the traffic occurred. She turned her head, saw him, and was raising her left arm to wave at him when she was interrupted.

"Get away from me, you piece of shit!" a woman's voice shouted, loud enough to be heard from the other side of the street over the background noise. "I am not going to sell you that land!" A woman in a large yellow sun hat gave a tall, bearded man a shove and ran out into the street, dodging around a two-horse cart while carrying a substantial green shopping bag.

"It's a fucking swamp!" the man yelled back, having to wait for the cart to pass before venturing onto the street after her. "It's of no use to you!"

"Hey, watch it, lady!" said the man on a lovely chestnut mare, having to hastily arrest her northbound pace so that the woman could run by in front of them.

"Sorry," she apologized, then shouted back, "if you want it, then it has value and I'm not letting you have anything after you screwed over my father!" Harold, Leila, and a few passers-by on both sides of the street stopped to watch the drama. A black shape detached itself from the roof of the building across the street from the Mages, spread an impressive pair of wings and flew towards the man and horse at a remarkable speed. The man started the horse moving again and the pursuer dodged another southbound horse and cart and ran about three feet behind the horse, between it and a two-horse cart.

"What the fuck?" he yelled in surprise, flinching as the black shape flashed between him and the horse. The woman had reached the other side of the street about three feet from Harold and turned, and both got a perfect view of the black bird flipping sideways, pecking the horse hard on the right flank and flying up and around in a truly impressive feat of acrobatics, disappearing from their field of view in the blink of an eye. The horse screamed in surprise and pain and reflexively lashed out with her right rear foot, which smashed hard into the man's midsection with a loud crunch. His body was sent flying backwards into the end of the pole to which the two horses that were pulling the northbound cart were hitched. He hit it with another crunch and fell awkwardly as the horses, a black one with a white belly and legs on the left and a bay on the right, reacted in fright and began whinnying and rearing, trying to get away from whatever the hell it was that had come at them.

The woman who had been pursued started screaming in shock as Harold rushed to place the boxes next to the wooden picket fence of the house behind him, then let go of the Levitation spell that had been keeping his staff floating at his right side, so it landed partly on the sidewalk and partly on the top donut box. He felt Leila approaching rapidly and looked up to see her moving her hands and saying some words that were likely the Daze spell as she ran across the side street.

"Obstupescere!" he muttered, making the motions to gather the Magic and tie it up as he had done so many times before, while standing up and turning as chaos erupted on the busy street. He cast the spell as a small ball that glowed with his colours of turquoise and forest green and flung it at the black horse's head, while exclaiming "Caput equi!" The ball homed in on the frantic horse's head and managed to hit it just under the left eye, quickly spreading out and sinking into its skull even as his second spell struck the other horse on its muzzle. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a yellow and turquoise ball streak from Leila's hand, making a noticeable curve before striking under the jaw of the horse that had been attacked, where it also spread out and sank in. Its rider, unprepared for the sudden motion of his mount, had been thrown off, had only avoided decapitation from a flying hoof by a half inch, and was lying on the street in harm's way.

The spells had their desired effect and the panicking horses were already starting to calm and several bystanders began running towards him and the woman, who was now white with shock. Harold looked over, realized that his boxes were in danger from the coming crowd, quickly ran the three steps over to them, snatched them up and put them on the other side of the fence, doing the same with his staff. A man and a woman had grabbed the tack of the horse team and were pulling and pushing them away from the broken body of the man, who had also gotten stepped on, while Leila and another woman had grabbed the reins of the other horse and were getting it away from its rider. Harold sprinted past the horse, slapped its bleeding flank with a Heal spell in one smooth motion, and continued to the man, who was lying on his back and screaming in pain. And little wonder, Harold thought as the Window coalesced out of thin air and he brought it to the man's left shoulder, which was clearly out of alignment.

"What is it?" a breathless Leila asked, moving beside him to look at the Window. "Please, give us some room," she addressed the gathering crowd, who all looked shocked. Many were getting pale as they saw the blood starting to flow freely from several lacerations on his forehead.

"Broken left clavicle," Harold responded, tapping the man's temples with glowing forefingers and abruptly ceasing the screaming as he was knocked out.

"Fuck, that's nasty!" she replied, casting a Numb circle from his neck to his waist. Harold doubled down with Relax Muscles on the whole area.

"Anybody with weak stomachs should look away now!" Harold shouted, surprising the onlookers, who were already backing away to give room. The two Healers quickly adjusted and set the bone back where it was supposed to be and Harold fused the pieces together with "Os hoc reparare", ignoring the sounds of at least three people being sick. Leila Sterilized and Healed the man's lacerations as Harold sat back on his heels, breathing heavily and feeling rather woozy because of all the Magic that he'd had to throw around in a very short time.

"All right, what's going on here?" demanded a voice loudly, attracting attention away from the Healers. It was Constable Jill Chelsey and Constable Brad Wheeler, part of the Town's small Police Force. They were dressed in stylish, summer-weight uniforms of pale green that consisted of short-sleeved tops with two breast pockets, loose-fitting slacks, medium-brimmed dusty brown hats, shiny black boots and the required utility belts with a truncheon on the right side, a holder for a notebook and pencil on the left, and a few other small pouches with other items of the trade as well. "Oh, my," she added, eyeing the broken, bloody body of the man who'd started it all and directing her gaze to the Healers and the other man on the street.

"We're going to need the ambulance cart to transport this fellow to the morgue and the other to the hospital," Brad added in his even tenor that had a quiet authority. "Which won't be hard since they're both in the same building," he added dryly.

"This man needs to be evaluated for a concussion," said Leila, standing up and giving Harold a hand to haul him to his feet.

"And his horse will need to be taken care of," Harold noted, scratching the mare behind the ears. "Oh, that feels better," he added as he released the Window, the spells on the two cart horses and the man he'd just treated and leaned against the warm comfort of the horse's body. Seeing that the action was over, the crowd began to disperse with the rising murmur of conversations and speculations.

"I'm Lynn Tabor," the woman at the centre of the action introduced herself to the constables, both of whom had their notebooks and pencils deployed. She was five-foot-nine with the farmer's body build so common in the Westlands, and from under the large hat brown and gray hair fell past her shoulders. She was wearing a light blue button-up short-sleeved blouse and matching shorts, both of which were filled out nicely, Leila noted as she helped the man on the street sit up woozily. "That man was Frank Mellon, my good-for-nothing neighbour who took advantage of my father's infirmity to swindle us out of twenty Sovereigns for a shitty roof shingling job that we had to pay even more to get fixed and done properly!" A look of genuine disgust pulled her bushy eyebrows down over her brown eyes. "If ever there was a fitting way for him to die, this was it. But what the hell was that bird that flew by so fast?"

"That was a raven," said Harold tiredly, assisting Leila in getting the man to his feet. Aside from looking very pale and shaken, he seemed to be OK. Leila checked his pupils and saw no tell-tale signs of a concussion, much to her relief. The other man had dismounted from his cart to survey what he had unwittingly become a part of and grimaced with dismay at the broken body. All eyes turned to look at the Healer. "What we just witnessed was a planned, premeditated execution, raven style."

"They can do that?" asked an astonished Jill, as she and Brad scribbled more notes.

"They can do a hell of a lot more than most of us give them credit for," replied the Healer with a rueful smile, his eyes clearly looking into the past. "I have had many encounters with them during my travels and plenty of practice with Raven-speak as a result. They are remarkably intelligent, make loyal and dedicated friends, and remorseless, utterly ruthless enemies. Frank must have done something truly terrible to have brought this upon himself." He did not mention his suspicion that they also acted as the eyes and ears of local Deities out in the country.

"He hated ravens, and they knew it. There's a small colony of them in the swampy area that he was wanting to cheat me out of, and they would fly over and drop stones on him or swoop down and fly past him at top speed just out of reach. They left his dogs and livestock alone, even protecting them from predators, he would tell me, but they harassed him constantly. Then, last week, one of them got careless and passed by too close when he was holding a large stick, and he made a lucky swing and smacked it out of the air, then stomped on it and made sure it was dead. I watched as another one landed on the fence between our properties, hissed and spread its wings wide and squawked something like 'Grak-tok! Grak-tok!' before it flew off after Frank started throwing rocks at it."

"Revenge," said Harold flatly. "Grak-tok is their word for it. Nothing good ever happens when the ravens are out for revenge. I'll bet that it was the mate of the one he killed who did this, probably stalking and watching his movements, waiting for the chance to strike. That was one hell of a maneuver it pulled doing that. Always, always treat the ravens with respect," he added soberly to the remaining people around them, and they nodded thoughtfully. Ravens were part of the background of life like the other birds, occasionally seen but seldom encountered. Their large size, funereal plumage, and that feeling that they were always watching you made most people think that they were creepy and they wanted nothing to do with them, and here was one more reason.