The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 01

"Papa? Is that you?" piped a girl's voice. They reluctantly broke apart and turned to see a ten-year-old girl peeking around the right corner of the house. Her face lit up as she recognized him, she dropped the hoe she had been holding and charged. Harold barely had time to brace himself for impact as she leaped onto him for a big hug. He swung her around twice, with Leila hastily making room, before putting her down with a thump. She still clung to him.

"Leila, is there any way we can stop this child from growing?" he demanded with mock severity, ruffling her hair. "I swear that every time I come see you, you've grown another inch!"

"Nope!" said Marcie with a big gap-toothed grin, standing tall and proud at four-foot-nine. She was going to be big-boned like her mother, but had her father's slenderer hands and long fingers, and her eyes were also a very similar shade of blue to his. His brown and Leila's red hair had combined into auburn hair with a slight curl to it that went down past her shoulders. As with her mother, she had it tied back for garden work, and she was wearing a dark-coloured pull-over blouse, pants, and boots. "I will not stop growing until I'm bigger than both of you!"

"The way you eat, I'd swear you were a tiny horse in disguise!" Leila exclaimed. "If the weeds in the garden grew as fast as you, we'd be in trouble!"

"Weeds grow way faster than me, Mama," Marcie replied. "That's why we were in the garden."

"How is school going?" Harold asked, collecting his hat, staff, and backpack.

"It's too easy," she complained as they made their way back from where she had come. "Mama makes me help the other kids and Mrs. Edwards says that I'm a natural teacher."

"I'm proud of you for doing that," Harold said seriously. "If we can help others, then we must. You never know when those you help will be able to help you one day."

"Speaking of helping," said Leila, "it was Helen who dropped off your Papa, rather early because she was in a big hurry. He has gotten a way to help Tom finish recovering from his injury."

"Is he the man who Healer Hendrix spent a long time with?" asked Marcie. "The mule kicked him in the nuts?"

"Yes, that's him. Your Mama and I have to get ready for the surgery, as I expect they'll be back as soon as Helen can find him and drag him back here. Do you want to keep gardening or come inside and do some reading?" She made a face.

"I'll get a drink of water from the kitchen and go back out there. We were about half an hour away from finishing the weeding. That's more fun than reading."

"The books will wait," said Leila as they entered the back door and removed their boots by the door. "Go get your drink and get out there and clobber those weeds!" Harold noticed her hand giving his rump a squeeze. The kitchen was the room they had entered, and Marcie filled a green mug with her name on it with a couple of strokes of the pump handle, drank it down, put the mug on the counter, put on her boots again and ran out the door. Instead of closing it, Harold took his pack a few feet outside and, from the safety of the doorway, hit it with a hard Cleaning spell, sending a blast of dirt, dust, and some hay in all directions.

"I wouldn't want to be guilty of bringing something that dirty into your house," he said.

"Then hold still, you dusty old man," Leila replied, zapping him with the same spell and sending more dust and grime into the air.

"Oof!" he coughed as the breeze carried the cloud away from the house. "That was a bit harder than necessary!" He paused. "Hmm, you're not exactly clean either."

"Hey!" she objected as he ran the few steps back and dragged her away from the door. "Yow!" she added as the Cleaning magic blew away all of the sweat and grime she'd worked up in the garden. "Well, that's the first part done. Now we should get changed into our professional clothes and wait for our clients to show up." The thick stone walls and slate roof kept the house cooler than the outside, he noted as they made their way through the door at the back of the large, stone-paved kitchen. A few steps down the hallway that was wide enough for them to walk side by side, the door to the guest bedroom was on the left and the door to Marcie's bedroom was on the right.

"I'll get changed in here," Harold said as he hauled the tall, heavy pack into the room and propped it up at the foot of the bed, which was next to the window, protected by closed, pale green drapes, on the far side of the room. He stood up and turned around at the sound of the door closing, and then Leila was in his arms kissing him with all the passion that a long absence generates. He responded with equal intensity and they remained locked for a minute, each feeling the other's magic rising in them. She also felt something else rising in his pants, something hard that wanted to get out.

"Let me help you out of those clothes," she said huskily, pulling back and looking down at the bulge. "Those pants of yours must be getting tight on you," she murmured, expertly undoing the five buttons that kept them from falling down and yanking them and his underwear down in a quick motion. The exposed cock was about seven inches long and a bit thicker than three fingers held together in a triangle, and hard. It also had a faint glow in shifting patterns of turquoise and forest green that shifted as she slowly licked the underside from the root to the tip, at which point she stuffed it into her mouth. Harold groaned quietly as she went down and up once, twice, thrice because he could feel the sparks from her tongue slipping into him, each one sending a shot of fire straight to his brain. Leila then saucily looked him straight in the eyes as she swirled her sparkling tongue on the sensitive tip and surrounding retracted foreskin, while slowly pumping him with her right hand. "I can feel you coming. You can't hold it back from me," she whispered. Unable to resist any longer, he began frantically bucking and groaning as she put the tip in her mouth just in time to receive the first of two strong squirts that she savoured and swallowed, and continued to suck until he was producing no more.

"Hmm, you gave me cherry this time, very tasty," she said, standing up as his cock started deflating. "I'll just take off that shirt of yours," she said, pulling it over his head, revealing a well-muscled and somewhat hairy torso with a few scars on it, both on front and back. "I'll leave you to get changed," she added, making a move towards the door but finding him suddenly in the way.

"My lady must be a little stiff and sore from working in the garden all morning," he said firmly. "It would be wrong of me to allow her to hurt herself in the act of disrobing. Allow me to remove that blouse of yours." Eyes locked on each other's, he reached to her waist and slowly pulled the bottom up, over her head and off her arms, which she had put over her head to make it easier. "And reaching behind to undo that bra would stretch sore muscles. Allow me." He embraced her and delivered a slow kiss as his hands deftly undid the clasps of the bra. As he pulled away, the garment fell to the floor, revealing almost D sized breasts, firm and full, capped by glowing medium-sized pink areolas and hard nipples the diameter of a pencil that stuck out about a quarter inch. "Those beautiful nipples must be so uncomfortable," he murmured as he licked and kissed his way down to the one on his left, then moved to the other one. Small sparks from his tongue slipped into her skin as he went, and he could hear the effect that they were having in her increasingly ragged breathing.

"Bending down to remove your pants could hurt your back," he added as he kissed his way down to her navel, giving it a little swirl and a few sparks and getting a moan from her. He undid her four buttons and pulled down the pants and her underwear. She'd clearly been ready for his arrival, as her copper-haired bush had been carefully trimmed to a half-inch length. She was unsteady on her feet as she stepped out of her pants, as his tongue was already probing the front of her pussy, with each lick and spark sending a bullet of fire to her rapidly fragmenting brain. "You must be tired from your work. Why don't you lie down for a bit?" he suggested, standing up and gently pushing Leila to the edge of the bed, where she sat down suddenly. After a gentle push, she was flat on her back with her pussy and ass on the edge of the bed, both of which were glowing the same colours as her nipples, turquoise and yellow. She was unable to contain the throaty groans as Harold alternately tongue-fucked her pussy and sucked on her swollen clitoris. He could feel her coming like a stampede as her vagina closed in on his thrusting, sparking tongue until she grabbed a pillow and shrieked into it. He was rewarded with a big squirt of fluid as her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm. He slumped to the varnished wood floor with a groan and they both lay there, basking in the afterglow and slowly getting their breathing back to some semblance of normal.

"Dear Goddess, how I needed that!" said Leila quietly from the bed.

"Making love to you is like nothing else in this world," he replied, managing to sit up. "We're going to have to get ready for Tom and Helen before they catch us unclothed." She giggled.

"How long do you think they'll wait before he's pounding her into oblivion?"

"I think that they'll last about as long as it takes them to get home," he replied, standing up and helping her to her feet. "Lemon-lime. Nice touch," he smiled as they kissed one last time.

"I thought you'd like it," she replied, reluctantly parting her naked body from his. "See you in five minutes." She walked the few strides to the door, her firm, rounded ass swaying hypnotically, then turned to look over her shoulder. "Tonight, after Marcie is asleep, we will make love with all the time that we need." His cock twitched helplessly as she blew him a kiss, opened the door and walked through it to go down the hallway to the next door, where her bedroom was, leaving her working clothes on the floor intermingled with his.

Ten minutes later, they were dressed up in their more formal wear, with a white button-up shirt and a nicely-fitted charcoal gray suit on him, and a white button-up blouse and a modest charcoal skirt that went down to mid-calf on her. Shiny leather shoes and gray socks completed the effect. They had brushed their hair and he had taken a few moments to do the Mage Shave spell to clean up the bristles. His clothes were among the many things that were efficiently crammed into his pack.

"Do you think that we look like respectable citizens in our pretty costumes now?" Leila asked, her blue eyes twinkling.

"We're about as respectable as we can get," he replied admiringly. Then the kitchen door opened and Marcie came in.

"Mama, Papa, I finished the weeding!" she announced proudly.

"What, all by yourself?" Harold asked as they moved into the kitchen to see their daughter, whose hair was now somewhat messed up, in her now-grubby work clothes and glowing with youthful vitality. "Did those poor weeds even have a chance?"

"Never!" replied his daughter. "I'm hungry! And stinky," she added, getting a whiff. "Mama?" They went outside where Leila zapped her with the Clean spell, which also blew her hair in all different directions. "Thanks, Mama," she said, giving her a big hug. When they got back into the kitchen, Harold was already preparing a sandwich from generous hunks of bread cut from a loaf on the counter and some beef and cheese from the icebox.

"You want one?" he asked Leila. "If we're going to do some surgery, we'll need an extra boost." She nodded hungrily, so soon all three were standing in the kitchen, munching happily.

"Mama, were you and Papa loving each other?" she asked after swallowing the last bite and pumping herself another mug of water. They both coughed and wheezed as parts of sandwich tried to go down the wrong way.

"What do you mean, Marcie?" a red-faced Leila was finally able to get out after their daughter had hastily given them drinks to wash the food down. "We love each other very much all the time."

"I know you do," she said gravely, looking at them both in turn. "I can feel it whenever Papa is home. But after he comes home, you always find something for me to do outside, and then I really feel it a few minutes later. And again, at night when I'm going to sleep."

"What does it feel like, Marcie?" asked an equally red-faced Harold, putting an arm around Leila's waist and looking into her eyes.

"It feels so warm and comforting, like when I'm in bed in winter with all the blankets on me." She ran over and hugged them both, and they hugged her back.

"Love is its own special magic," Leila said. "When it happens, you can really feel it. You remember Tom and Helen's wedding two years ago? Did you feel how special it was?" She nodded.

"You and Papa led them in their vows and made it real, and it felt so good when they kissed."

"Now we get to help them to have children. They will be here soon and you'll have to ..." Harold was interrupted by a loud knock at the kitchen door.

"Marcie! Can you come out to play?" shouted a girlish voice from outside.

"Yes, I can!" she shouted back, taking the hint, running to the door and flinging it open. Outside was a small pack of girls and boys of varying ages and degrees of cleanliness. "Bye Mama! Bye Papa!" she waved at them as they stampeded around to the front of the house and out of sight.

"She is one truly remarkable piece of work," said Harold, shaking his head in amazement as they closed the kitchen door and walked to the front of the house. Just as they were about to open the door to look out, they were startled by a loud banging from its knocker. Leila opened it immediately, surprising the person who was knocking. It was Brenda, Helen's older sister, who, as Harold had predicted, was looking rather the worse for the wear. She had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, an average-sized nose and a wide smile, which, when combined with her shapely figure, could have a devastating effect on a man, and those women who leaned in that direction. Some of her curviness could be attributed to her relatively advanced state of pregnancy, at least in the seventh month. She was dressed in a lavender blouse, a calf-length skirt in a darker shade of purple, and a white sun hat.

"There you are!" she said angrily, pointing at Harold, who took a step back in surprise. "What gives you the right to interfere in my sister's marriage?"

"Uhh, what?" he asked, at a loss for words. "I'm not interfering with anything!"

"Helen told me that you were going to provide her with the baby that Tom can't make! You'll ruin their love and trust in each other!"

"She told me that Tom had suggested that I be the surrogate father," he replied defensively. "From the way she was acting, she really didn't want to do it but thought there was no other way. Though why me and not one of the local men, I don't know."

"Brenda, please come in so we can at least fix you up," said Leila soothingly. Reluctantly, she did, and they went into the examination room. There was a large table covered in smooth, easily-cleaned brown leather in the middle of it. A pair of stirrups on which feet could be placed were folded down at the sides. She was guided to the table, on which she sat while Leila Healed her black eye and miscellaneous bruises and scratches. Harold retreated to the spare bedroom, retrieved a long metal tube from his backpack, and returned just as Leila had finished her ministrations.

"So, it's true that you have got a way to fix Tom's problem?" Brenda asked, her hopeful smile a stark contrast to her earlier demeanor.

"It's right here," he responded, relaxing noticeably. He looked down at the tube at their expressions and realized that he'd unconsciously been holding it like a baton, ready to strike or defend. "Sorry," he apologized, changing his stance to unscrew the top. "You looked like you were going to try to kill me."

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that," Brenda replied, getting off the exam table. "I still tend to get defensive about my little sister, even if she isn't so little any more. She never told me about her plan until just this morning, and neglected the part about Tom's buy-in."

"I could tell that she was telling the truth," he responded, pulling out a small pile of papers and setting it on a table that was under the open window. With a wave of his hand and a muttered phrase, the papers unrolled themselves flat. "This is a copy of Gargery's paper," he continued as Leila came over, picked it up, and started looking through it. "I was hoping that she'd have enough time to have a look before they showed up." A jingling of harness, clopping of hooves, and rattle of a swiftly-moving buggy became audible and soon the couple came wheeling around the corner and pulled into the gravel driveway that was at the far-right side of the house. "Please go out and stall them for a bit." Brenda nodded and went outside to greet them.

"Helen, I'm so sorry about this morning!" she cried as she ran to them. Helen had tied the reins to the hitching rail at the top of the driveway, while a rather woozy looking Tom was pumping some water from a small pump into a water trough, from which the exhausted horse was already greedily drinking. As the sisters embraced, he added the contents of a small bag of oats into a second trough that was in front of the water trough. He was the very image of the stereotypical farmer, tall, handsome and muscular, with black hair, large hands and feet, a medium-sized mouth with full lips, an oversized nose, and intelligent brown eyes that missed little. His older brother Fred was Brenda's husband, and they occasionally "disputed" who was the luckier man when they were out together, to the pleased embarrassment of their wives.

"Hi, Brenda," he said in his deep, calm voice, embracing her. "It's true, we did agree on the surrogate father, but now Helen says that it's not going to be necessary after all." The three of them looked at the window where they saw Harold and Leila standing. Leila bent down to the open part of the window and said through its fine metal mesh screen,

"Come on in, we're ready for you." Brenda accompanied them on the gravel path from the driveway to the front door.

"There I was, fixing the barn door and minding my own business when Helen came tearing into the yard with the hay wagon, unhitched it and hitched up the buggy in record time, then came over, dragged me there and all but threw me in. Then she kissed me hard enough to set me on fire and said 'Problem solved!' and off we went into town."

"Good luck, Tom. Let us know how it works out," Brenda replied with a wink, turning down the main walkway to the street. Leila opened the door and welcomed them in.

"Hi, Tom, it's great to see you again," said Harold, greeting him with a handshake.

"Harold showed me the paper and we think that we can build new epididymis ducts that will allow sperm to get from your testicles to the outside world, where they can do some good." Roger made a complex set of gestures with his hands and muttered a few phrases in a strange language and something that looked like a two-by-two-foot sheet of frosted glass appeared in front of him, floating in the air.

"Nice one," said Leila. "That looks prettier than the one I can conjure up."

"I'll show you the technique after we're done here," he replied enthusiastically, in full geek mode now. Helen giggled.

"How much nudity is required for the lesson?" Tom chuckled, Leila snickered, and Harold rolled his eyes and sighed.

"No comment," he replied with a small laugh. "It depends on the enthusiasm of the student." It was Leila's turn to go a bit red and the other two laughed, relaxing noticeably. "Have you seen this before?" he asked, moving the pane up so they could see it more clearly. They nodded, as Leila had used it on them a few times in the past. "It's a window that lets me zoom in, even to the microscopic level, and look right into the body without having to cut you open."