The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 08

"How's his appetite been?" asked the Healer, who had been scratching Carfax behind the right ear, and the horse was leaning into it as best as he could without putting too much weight on his foot.

"He's been eating like a horse," Arthur responded with a smile, patting the horse's shoulder. "OK, let's get a look at your foot, Carfax." He bent down and grabbed the lower part of the massive leg, and the horse obligingly shifted his weight and allowed the foot to be elevated and the leg bent back so that they could see the bottom of his hoof. Harold summoned a Mage Light because they were inconveniently in the shade of the body. "That's very handy," he added, eyebrows raised.

"It's one of the first spells we learn, because it's easy," Harold replied, Cleaning the hoof for a better look. "Oh, a bar crack. Ouch. No wonder you're so sore," he said to Carfax sympathetically as he looked over to watch. "I'll make it better for you." They noticed two of the other horses in the paddock had seen them and were moving closer to investigate. "First, I'll Numb the hoof," he said conversationally. He closed his eyes and concentrated, and Arthur and Lydia felt something that they couldn't describe. The Healer's hands were now glowing with shifting colours of forest green and turquoise. He said some words in a strange language, positioned the fingers on his right hand in an odd way and made a circle around the base of the leg above the foot, leaving a glowing ring of the same colours.

"Don't move, you overfed lump!" Arthur warned. They could sense his relief at the sudden cessation of pain. "Healer Harold still has work to do!" Carfax huffed slightly, but remained still. Lydia provided a distraction, murmuring soothing things while stroking his head.

"Next comes Sterilize, to make sure that nothing nasty has gotten in there. Boy, have you ever got big feet!" Carfax gave him a look with his deep brown eyes. "Yes, I know it's not your fault. You are a draft horse and you need big feet to pull big loads." His voice was soft and soothing and the others felt themselves calming down, even though they weren't the subject. "Now, let's fix this nasty crack." With more words and gestures, he caused the affected area to glow, this time in a pale reddish-orange, and after a few seconds, he compressed and manipulated it until the crack was Healed. "We'll let this cool for a minute and then we're done," he added, waving his hat over the hoof to speed the process. When it was cool to the touch, he concluded, "OK, let's try it out."

Arthur released the leg and Harold released the Numb spell. Carfax put his foot down and gingerly put some weight on it, just as the other two horses, a mostly white male with black markings, and a bay mare, arrived and started sniffing him. Something was different, but they weren't sure what. Carfax was now standing normally, with his long tail swishing back and forth, and gave Harold a gentle push with his head. "You're welcome," said the Mage, stroking his head. "Now go test it out." The horse wheeled suddenly, surprisingly fast for a beast his size, and trotted swiftly past the food and water troughs to their left, with the other two turning to follow him.

"I'm not crying, you're crying," sniffled Arthur, wiping his eyes with a sleeve, and they climbed over the fence before the five tons or so of hustling equines returned to squash them.

"It's hot out here and my eyes are sweating," Harold replied, wiping his eyes as well. He paused and hit himself and his pack with Clean spells, directing the grime to a small pile of dust next to the fence. "There's nothing like a satisfied customer to make the day worthwhile. Are there any other horses or critters who need attention?"

"My back is sore from a long day of standing and selling stuff," Lydia asserted. "I'm sure that the other horses need to have their feed and water checked, right, Arthur?"

"Hmm, yes, I think that I need to do a maintenance check on the wagon harnesses," he replied, pretending to remember. "I'll leave you in her capable hands." He snickered knowingly, making her look around suddenly.

"Get back here, you!" she shouted, charging off after the Healer, who had taken the opportunity to quietly sneak away, leaving Arthur laughing and shaking his head as he aimed himself at the stable.

"Oh, there you are, Lydia," said Harold, his eyes wide with innocence, as she clamped her left hand onto his right upper arm. "I was just going to the kitchen to see if I could get a snack."

"My tent is this way, Mister Moser," she growled, firmly changing the direction of his travel. "Are you actually giggling?" she demanded. "Men grow older, but they don't grow up!"

"I've heard that rumor," he snickered, composing himself. "I can't make your conquest too easy." Her expression nearly set him off again.

"You must have taken one too many whacks to the head from Mara," she growled as they stopped before another of the ten-by-ten tents, identical to all the other ones that stretched out over the grounds in orderly rows and columns, each separated from the other by five feet of clearance. Unlike their concession booth counterparts, the residential tents had waterproof bottoms that curled up and attached to the sidewalls from the inside. All of the tents had different designs drawn on the front panels that served as entrances; Lydia's was of a female deer and a fawn who were looking at them.

"That's an amazing picture," Harold admired before Lydia reached down, lifted the bottom of the panel, and shoved him inside, letting it fall behind her. Harold looked around with interest, but there wasn't much to see. A double-sized bedroll occupied the far left corner, and opposite it was not quite a dresser, but more of a clothing organizer, with pull-out collapsing baskets instead of drawers. A small folding table and folding chair were to the right of the entry, on top of which were a lantern, two books, and a mirror. A wind-up alarm clock was next to the bed, resting on the one item of relative luxury, a very nice hand-knotted carpet that he identified as from Argosy, as he'd seen a few in various Argosians' living quarters while he was in Carcosa. "You don't have to undress for the massage, you know," he added, as they were now nose-to-nose, close enough for her breasts to be gently pressing into his chest.

"Of course, I do," she purred, giving him a gentle smooch. "It just isn't the same with my clothes on. I need to have your hands on me. All of me." A soft, gentle kiss followed, with tongues invading mouths and bodies pressing together. "But first, there is something that I must take care of." Her left hand squeezed the bulge in his pants, then both hands quickly undid the pesky buttons that kept them from their goal. Pants fell, along with his pack and staff, and his underwear was yanked down, revealing his hard, gently throbbing cock that was glowing in shifting patterns of forest green and turquoise.

"It's a Mage thing," he groaned as she went down on her knees and gave his thick, seven-inch shaft a long, lazy lick from its root to its tip, swirling her tongue around the sensitive glans and the bunched-up foreskin behind it. "Oh, that feels too good."

"It's supposed to," she whispered, giving it another lick. "I don't want my happy ending to be over before it starts." She slowly slid the hot, hard cock into her mouth, sliding her tongue around it as it went further and further in, bobbing a bit in and out. He could feel the orgasm coming like a huge wave and he was helpless to prevent it. His moaned warning was unnecessary, as she had felt the pulsing begin seconds before. She greedily gobbled his sperm as quickly as he could squirt it into her and made sure that she'd gotten every drop before he slumped onto her bedroll and lay there, eyes staring sightlessly at the top of her tent. Lydia was quick to take advantage, removing his boots, socks, pants, and underwear. His muscular legs and even his feet had multiple bruises, and she was surprised that he was even able to walk.

When Harold's consciousness reassembled itself, he realized that he was lying on his back on her bedroll naked from the waist down. He turned his head and saw her lying on her side facing him, with her head resting on her pillow. Her brown and gray hair spilled down her neck, framing her oval face with its average-sized nose and mouth. Her thin lips were parted in a seductive smile.

"I thought that I'd lost you," she said. "I've never had anyone go out like that. And how did you make your cum taste like strawberries?" After two attempts, he was able to sit up to admire her C-sized breasts with hard, pink nipples and small areolas.

"Another Mage trick, meant to encourage blow jobs," he grinned back. "But two can play your little game." He gently pushed her unresisting body onto her back, moved himself around, and began to tenderly squeeze, caress, and lick her breasts and nipples in a certain pattern with a certain rhythm. She felt her body responding to his attentions and suddenly it seemed that every touch, especially to her sensitized nubs, sent jolts straight to her pussy, which was getting hotter and wetter every second.

"What... are... you... doing?" she moaned, feeling herself losing control as his skillful hands and lips played her body like a musical instrument. He looked straight into her eyes with those strange blue ones of his, eyes that one could get lost in, and his right hand gently brushed its way down her belly, past the curls of her full bush, and came to rest on her pussy. His middle finger slipped effortlessly inside her and his thumb stroked and teased her clitoris from the outside while the finger curled and applied pressure from the inside. "Nuh - nuh - unnnghh!" It seemed like every muscle in her lower body spasmed at this point, trying to crush the invading finger while his thumb continued to stroke her clit until she was finished, leaving her wide-eyed and breathing heavily. "Only a man who truly loves women can do that," she whispered as his hand made its way back to her breasts. He smiled and nodded.

"I believe that you are right," he agreed. "Now that you are warmed up, let's give you that massage that I promised." It took some effort to roll her over onto her stomach, and he spent the next twenty minutes stretching, kneading, pressing, and twisting, along with sending little sparks of warmth and cold into her neck, shoulders, back, and even her firm ass, legs, and feet.

"Oh, Goddess, I have never felt this relaxed," she mumbled as he finished with her toes.

"Well then, my job here is done," he said cheerfully, moving back to the side of the bedroll while still remaining on his knees.

"Not so fast, bub," she growled, managing to roll onto her side to glower at him and his smirk. "I have an itch that can only be scratched by this." She bopped his hard, glowing cock.

"Where is it? Your armpit? That's rather unusual, but I think that it can be managed." With some effort, Lydia managed to roll onto her back, open her legs and intensify her glower.

"Stuff that cock into my pussy, mister, and put out the fire that you started!"

"Anything for my client," he replied, moving between her legs. "Have you had any tea lately?"

"I don't need any contraceptive tea any more," she replied huskily. "There will be no consequences nine months from now." The look of pure mischief on his face warned her of what was coming, namely his moving his head down to her legs and kissing her left inner thigh, then moving slowly up to her pussy, licking and kissing gently all the way, just inflaming her more. Of course, he had to stop to gently kiss and suck her clitoris and probe inside her pussy with a middle finger, almost immediately provoking a moderate orgasm. He then worked his way up her belly, paused to lick and suck her breasts and nipples, before he was finally over her face, licking and kissing her lips. Desperately, Lydia reached down, grabbed and positioned his cock, and he slid in to the hilt with one thrust. They both moaned as she clamped down on him. "That cock is not leaving until your balls have been emptied into me," she whispered.

"Which do you like better, slow," he groaned, giving her two slow thrusts and getting moans, "or hard and fast?" he added, giving her two fast ones, getting stronger moans from both of them. Once started down that path, he was unable to stop. "I think it's too late to say that I'm not giving you any more of my sperm," he whispered, staring right into her eyes. "You're so hot, and have me all wrapped up."

"Your cock feels so... ungh... wonderful inside me. Kiss me and come!" She could feel everything as he involuntarily thrust in as far as he could and his cock started pulsing as his mouth pressed onto hers and their tongues invaded each other and she came and came and came. After about a minute, he rolled off onto the bedroll and they both lay there, staring at the roof of the tent and basking in the afterglow.

"Did I scratch that itch?" Harold asked, reaching over to give her left breast a gentle squeeze.

"You scratched it so well that I'm totally ruined," she murmured, turning her head to look at him. Her eyes were already half-closed and her contented smile warmed his heart. Having regained his wits enough to summon his Magic, the Healer Cleaned the mess that they'd made, making her eyes open wide and her squeak in surprise, but it wasn't enough to keep her awake. He tucked her pillow under her head, pulled up the sheet, and she murmured sleepily when he kissed her forehead. He dressed carefully because his body kept wanting to sit down and the tent kept wanting to rotate around him. He decided to leave his pack here because he was too tired to lug it around any more, but he took his staff, on which he was leaning much more than usual, and slipped out of the semi-gloom of Lydia's tent and into the soft light of the middle evening. The big kitchen tent was unmistakeable and he made his way towards it. Somehow, the time had worked its way to about 8:00, the last of the late patrons for dinner had been served, and cleanup was underway. The six-person team did not fail to notice his approach.

"Good evening," said the Mage, with his most winning smile. "I came to see if there were any pesky leftovers that needed to be disposed of?" He got some snickers, knowing looks, and a giggle in return. "What?" he asked, hands on his hips.

"I don't see Lydia with you. Did you manage to lose her in the crowd?" asked one of the men, who carefully avoided eye contact. Harold sighed and rolled his eyes. It was clear that his attempt to conceal his Walk of Shame had failed dismally. With as much dignity as he could muster, he replied,

"Lydia was tired after a long day and she is having a nap after her much-needed massage." Ignoring the chuckles that seemed to be coming from anyone he wasn't looking at, he walked over to the long counter next to the large sink that was filled with hot soapy water that was steaming slightly. There were large piles of plates and glassware awaiting cleaning, and another stack of items in the drying rack to the left of the sink. Millie was doing the washing and a relatively short, but wide, blond-haired man was doing the drying. The others were cleaning the food prep area and putting away dried dishes in the cupboards that were under the counters. "Unlike the dogs and cats to whom you probably give the table scraps," he continued, bending down to scratch Mooch behind the ears, then to pat a brown tabby cat, both of whom were looking hopefully at the dishes, "I am prepared to do a little work for my sustenance." He hit the stacks of plates, glasses, and mugs with Clean spells, the loud clattering that resulted making them all jump, Mooch to bark at them, and the cat to tear off in a great hurry. The embers in the hearth flared as the stuff that was removed from the items appeared over it and fell in. He walked over to the food prep counters and Cleaned them too, adding Sterilize for good measure.

"You came back for me," said Millie with a bright smile. "And you didn't want to wait."

"Why do people think that good deeds have ulterior motives?" he complained theatrically, getting more snickers. "Anyone who wants to watch me give Millie some elementary Magic lessons, feel free to stay. Otherwise, the night is yours." The other five gave him a round of mild applause and opted to take the evening, going in the directions of their tents. "Is there a candle around here?" he asked, once they were alone. "The first lesson is opening your connection to the Magic that is all around us, and the candle is the key." After rooting around in a drawer, she pulled out a half-burned white candle and a shot glass to hold it and they went to the nearest dining table, where they sat across from each other with the candle in the middle. "Your first question will be 'What is Magic, anyway?'" He grinned as she paused.

"What we call Magic is really just a force of Nature, like gravity, light, and magnetism. The difference is that only a small proportion of the population can access and manipulate it. Many others have varying degrees of sensitivity. They can feel it, sometimes do small things with it if they try really hard, see ghosts, and that sort of thing."

"Ghosts are Magical?" she asked, looking surprised. "There's one that haunts this area, around the lighthouse. A woman named Mary Celeste who supposedly threw herself off of the cliff below it when she was told that her husband, who was the captain of a trader ship, had been lost at sea in a storm."

"We are sure that there is some degree of Magic involved with them," Harold replied thoughtfully. "Despite years of study by people way smarter than I am," he smiled ruefully, "we have not been able to find any clear set of characteristics that are likely to cause someone's soul to get stuck between this world and the next after their body dies. They draw sustenance of a sort from the Magical field that keeps them going, and direct sunlight hurts them, and we haven't been able to work out a reliable way to help them cross over."

"We may get to see Mary tonight. There's going to be fog that will start rolling in during the show tonight, and she tends to appear and watch it when that happens."

"How do you know about the fog coming?"

"It's one of the first things that tipped me off that I was different," Millie replied with a smile. "I know that a lot of people with connections to the land and sea also have a feel for the weather, but I was able to feel the changes coming a lot sooner than they could, and make more accurate predictions, at least in the short term. I've saved us a lot of hassle on the road sometimes when I was able to predict rain that would make the roads a mess and let us set up a temporary camp somewhere." Harold nodded.

"It was the same with me. I could predict a thunderstorm's arrival about fifteen minutes before the sky would start getting dark. I told people that it was because I could see it in how the farm animals were behaving, since they knew that I had a strong connection to them even when I was young. In order to perform a spell, instead of just reaching out to feel and read the Magic, we grab some of the energy and shape it with words and gestures to make it do what we want."

"You said some words and made some motions when you cast the Clean spell on the dishes and work area," Millie replied, closing her eyes to recall what he had done. "I suppose that only certain combinations of words and gestures will create a particular spell." Harold nodded encouragingly. "I could sort of feel what you were doing, and I got the impression that the Cleaning was one part, and putting the stuff that you Cleaned from the dishes into the hearth was a second part. But what about Mages from other countries? Do they have to say the same words and make the same gestures to cast their spells?"