Harold the Healer Brings Home a Dog

Harold the Healer: Harold Brings Home a Dog

Note to readers: This story takes place a few years before the first two (and forthcoming third) chapters of the main story. Some more background information on Harold’s past and the world in general is also presented.

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Mid-November is a seasonal no man’s land between the Autumn that ends with the last of the falling leaves and the first fall of Winter’s snow. Gone are the gentle caresses of Old Man Winter that frost the October lands with a coat of rime that shimmers and glistens until the morning sun melts it away. Gone is the fun and excitement of All Hallows Eve on the last day of October, with costumes and candy, and bonfires and fireworks to scare away the spirits whom the legends say can cross over into our world for a night. The brightly painted leaves that mark Nature’s fond farewell to Summer have fallen and been blown by the wind to collect in drifts, where they turn brown in the weakening sun and crunch and rustle underfoot as a traveler walks down a road. The days are chilly, the nights are cold, and the sun seems to have lost all its warmth as the Westlands awaits the first of the storms that blow off the ocean that bring with them the damp cold for which the region is infamous.

Harold Moser, already a Senior Healer of the Order of St. Thrimble, thanks mostly to the usual attrition, awoke from a dreamless sleep in a warm cozy bed, the best way to wake up. As usual, he was lying on his left side on the left side of the bed, and gloomy pre-dawn November light was passing through the curtains of the window with remarkably little enthusiasm. On the other side of the bed was the reason it was so cozy, Willa Groom. He had healed her lame horse, checked out her cow and two sheep, did de-flea and de-worm spells on her barn and house cats and two dogs, and given her, her daughter, son-in-law, and their two teen-aged children checkups and general Healing for various minor things. They had naturally invited him to dinner and to stay the night, since it was long past dark by the time he was done. They’d caught up on local gossip, drunk some wine, and he’d shared some of his happier stories of his travels in the Kingdom before it was time for bed.

“That couch in your living room looks comfortable,” he had said the night before, yawning cavernously behind his hand. “I’ll crash there for the night and be on my way in the morning.”

“No, you have definitely earned yourself a bed for the night,” Willa had replied firmly, as he’d hoped. “What I need from you right now is a massage. My back and neck are killing me. We can go upstairs to my room for it, if you don’t mind.” Harold had been under no illusion about what her ulterior motive was, recognizing the look in her bright brown eyes that he had seen before. She took a lantern from the mantel of the living room fireplace and started looking around. “Darn it, where did they put the matches?” she asked irritably.

“Allow me,” Harold had said, and with a gesture and a word, it was lit.

“Wow, you’re sure handy to have around.”

“Being handy is useful when massage is in the offing,” he had replied innocently, with a deadpan expression to match. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath and he snickered. “Lead on, Willa.”

“It’s almost as if you don’t want me behind you,” she had growled, walking ahead of him to the staircase. The wooden stairs usually creaked a bit when people used them, but Willa had noticed to her surprise how quietly he moved up them, despite his weight.

“You’re really light on your feet,” she had remarked when they reached their top and turned right to head for one of the front rooms, which was hers.

“Perfected over many years of sneaking around places where I would have been better off not being,” he had replied with an impish grin, getting one in return. Her room was not large, about 12 by 12, with the expected double bed against the left wall, large dresser, mirror, and small bedside table, and a window on the wall facing them that looked south towards the road to Magwitch. Its door closed with a solid click of its latch.

“I’ll undress and get on the bed. It’s high enough that you should be able to do your work without too much strain on your back,” she had said, turning her back to him and unbuttoning and removing her sensible winter-weight blouse, teasing him with little peeks of what lay underneath and smoldering over-the-shoulder eye contact. Her loose-fitting farmer’s jeans were next to hit the floor, revealing legs that were as well-muscled as the rest of her from years of farm work. Her daughter and son-in-law had taken over most of the heavy lifting on the farm after her former husband had walked away one day four years ago and gotten on a stage coach for the Capital. The letter that had accompanied the Request for Divorce papers that had arrived two months later stated that he was tired of the farm life and wanted to retire to something different. She had signed the papers and sent them back without comment, but it had taken some time for her to get over it. “Do you like what you see?” She had eventually seen herself as having been liberated, and menopause had freed her from the risk of pregnancy.

“I see that you are in great shape,” he had replied blandly, but with a twinkle in his eye, “for a woman of your age, or any age. Are you ready?”

“Only two more inconveniences,” she had replied, which were her bra and panties, both of which were quickly removed, with her back still to him. “I’ll get on the bed and you can work your magic.” She pulled back the covers and laid herself face down on the sheet. What she had expected was a body rub to get her aroused, followed by his sinking his cock into her needful pussy that hadn’t had one for a while. Instead, she got a very thorough examination as he checked and made a few minor repairs to her spine with the aid of a magical Window that he’d conjured up, which had been followed by the skilled application of his strong hands and fingers as they, assisted by little sparks of green and yellow Healing Magic, worked the knots and stiffness out of her butt, back, and neck muscles, and even her scalp and arms. She had never felt this good and relaxed.

“You weren’t kidding about the sore back and neck,” he had said as she had moaned softly into her pillow. “You’ve been carrying around a lot of stress, haven’t you? You’re in a good position now, you can just let it all go and enjoy your life. Let me check out your knees to see if they need a little attention.” She managed to roll over somehow, despite her muscles seeming to have melted, finally exposing her full, gray bush and soft, D-sized breasts capped by achingly hard pink nipples, to his gaze. He had moved his Window so that he could look at her left knee joint, gently bending and twisting it and applying a few Healing touches to top up the cartilage in places where it had been wearing thin. As he had repeated it on her right knee, then started massaging the knots out of her legs, he could tell that she had started getting aroused. “Just one last check of your internals to make sure there’s nothing there that shouldn’t be, and you’ll be set,” he had said in his best professional voice, doing what he could to squelch his own growing arousal and its most obvious physical manifestation.

“I haven’t felt anything unusual,” she had replied in a husky voice, “but sometimes you don’t until it’s too late.” He had moved the Window over her body and given everything a good look, using its ability to focus at different distances to scan top to bottom, in a quest for abnormalities or tumors that thankfully came up empty. Her breasts had also been free from anything unwanted.

“Well, aside from the usual wear and tear, you are in excellent condition,” he had pronounced with a smile. “I think we’re done.”

“You forgot something,” she had replied, her eyes wide in the light of the lantern that she’d put on the bedside table. At his patently fake quizzical expression, she’d added, “You never massaged my pussy. It needs some attention.” She’d opened her legs, grabbed his hand and guided it there. It had been as hot as a furnace, and he’d finally lost the battle against arousal, which she’d clearly noticed. “Experience has taught me that the best thing to massage a pussy with is a hot, hard cock.” Her fingers had expertly unbuttoned and pulled down his tented pants and then his underwear, and she had gently stroked his thick, seven-inch erection, which had been glowing in shifting colours of green and turquoise. “A glowing one will be even better,” she had murmured. “Now, take off that shirt and get on me!” He had obeyed, climbed on the bed, and positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance.

“Will this massage have a happy ending?” he had asked, gently rubbing his tip on her labia.

“I think so,” she had growled. “Massage me!” She had been so ready that he had sunk his cock all the way into her in one thrust, getting a loud moan as his reward. He then stayed there, bucking gently, as her first orgasm made her clamp down hard. “Oh, Goddess, that felt good,” she whispered when it had passed. “Come down here and ravage my mouth and my pussy!” She had pulled his head down until their lips had met, which didn’t cause much strain because she was not that much shorter than him, and their tongues had invaded each other as he’d begun pumping in and out with her bucking to match his pace, which had started slowly but then rapidly progressed to frantic pounding until she had clamped down hard and he had squirted his cum into her, with more moans from both of them.

“I think that your pussy massage was a success,” he had murmured into her ear as he had laid on her, both breathing heavily. Her past-shoulder-length gray hair had been in disarray all around her head. “You nearly squeezed the life out of me.” After Willa had quicky gotten up to blow out the lantern, they had rolled over onto their sides and pulled the covers up over them to keep warm in the cool room.

“It was a very happy ending”, she had purred sleepily. He had Cleaned the mess with his last remaining spark of consciousness.

“Good morning, Harold,” he heard Willa say, followed by her hand that grabbed his shoulder and pulled him onto his back. “That was the best massage I’ve ever had. Thank you.” The same hand then slid down his chest to stroke and tug his half-hard cock as she looked into his eyes. “Here’s how I thank men who give me great massages,” she continued with a lazy smile. She moved and her head disappeared under the covers and he felt her hair brush down his chest and abdomen until her mouth took his cock into it. It did not take very many slurps, licks, and sucks until it was hard and glowing again.

“You are really good at that!” he gasped. Mission accomplished, Willa moved around again until she was on top of him, moved up until her head was above his, and then pushed herself down so that his cock once again sank deep into her. As she gently rode his cock, he licked and sucked each dangling breast, paying extra attention to the hard nipples that, judging by her gasps and moans, were very sensitive. “I will bring you hard and keep you clean, with no messy sperm to deal with.”

“I don’t think so, mister,” she whispered in return, nose-to-nose, looking him in his eyes. “A woman always knows when her man is about to blow his load, and you are almost there. Maybe it will be me who won’t come and do it all for you.” Both of them were breathing hard and he was thrusting in to meet her halfway.

“Judging by how hard you’re squeezing me,” he gasped, “that’s not going to happen.” He gave her a double thrust, which took her over the edge and him with her, spectacularly failing to withhold squirt after squirt of cum. Even after she’d collapsed onto him and they were exchanging gentle kisses and lip licks, she was squeezing the last of it from his deflating cock.

“That is how I thank you for a great massage, and for all the work you did for us yesterday.”

“I’m glad that I saved the best for last,” he replied with a smile. “Now I’m totally ruined and will barely be able to get out of bed.” With some effort, she got off of him and stood shakily on the floor, wearing only her socks, which she had never removed to keep her feet warm. He hadn’t either. Harold Cleaned the glistening mess from his cock and abdomen and managed to sit up. “A view like this should be appreciated properly.”

“Oh, the silver-tongued rascal is here,” Willa replied, flaunting her assets as he leered comically. “This view has to be clothed or I will freeze!” It was definitely chilly in the room, and as she dressed with new clothes from her dresser and closet, Harold put his on too, including the warm long underwear that was a requirement for anybody being outside for any length of time at this time of year. They padded downstairs to the kitchen and surprisingly found that they were the first ones up.

“I’ll help with breakfast,” he said. “I can make a couple of things for you.”

“Thanks, Harold,” Willa replied, getting a small lantern and lighting it with a match. Her face was oval and lined with wrinkles from about sixty years of exposure to the elements. It was marked with a strong, square jaw, over which was a medium-sized mouth with very kissable lips, a straight nose and bushy, half-gray eyebrows. “Any more looks at me like that and I’ll drag you back upstairs and leave you unable to do anything for the rest of the day!” He grinned and blew a kiss at her as she opened the cellar door and went down the stairs, then he went into the wood storage room that was just off the kitchen, through which one passed to get to the door outside. “Can you drop a few pieces down here for me?” she called through the floor. “There’s nothing for the boiler down here. It’s all used up.”

“Sure,” he replied, grabbing a handle and sliding a panel in the floor back, revealing her holding the lantern and looking up at him. “How much do you need?”

“Give me some starters and about five big pieces,” she said, stepping back. The room was long and about five feet wide and packed to the ceiling with split wood of various sizes. He dropped some kindling down, followed by five regular-sized pieces. He then conjured a bright Mage Light and sent it down the hole, moving it over where he could see the boiler when he knelt down to look. “Oh, thank you for that,” she said, looking surprised. She put the lantern on a table near the large metal contraption, from which four pipes emerged upward into the ceiling, scraped out a load of ash, tossed in some wood and kindling and managed to get it all lit. “There, that will start warming the house. Let’s get started with breakfast.” Harold killed the Mage Light and returned to the kitchen with more wood and kindling for the large iron stove that is the focal point of all farm kitchens, which are the focal point of all farm houses. The contraption in the basement was a combination boiler and pump that heated water and pumped it through pipes under the floors that kept the house warm. Nearly all houses in the Westlands had one. He Cleaned the ash from the stove, loaded it up, and got it started just as Willa was closing the door.

“Where is everyone?” she asked. “Dan should be out milking the cow by now and Greta should be here helping get breakfast ready.” These were her daughter and son-in-law.

“Speak of the devil,” Harold replied, standing aside so that Willa could assemble the ingredients and cookware. They had just walked in, looking a little wild-eyed and disheveled, and Dan, a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair and bright blue eyes that had more of a twinkle in them than was probably usual, moved to the door of the wood room to put on his boots and warm coat. Greta was tall like her mother and, like most of the farm folk in the area, solidly built, marched up to her mother, hands on hips, and scowling.

“You had sex with that man,” she pointed at an amused Harold, “last night and again this morning, didn’t you?” Willa blushed.

“I thought that we were being quiet,” she replied guiltily.

“You were. We didn’t hear a thing, but we felt it! As we were drifting off to sleep, there was this wave of warmth and comfort like we’d never felt before! Next thing I knew, I was feeling hot and Dan was as hard as a rock and we were going at it like rabbits! And it happened again this morning!”

“Next time you’re in town, come stay the night with us,” Dan drawled with a wink, then exited hastily as Greta raised a fist in his direction.

“If I hadn’t already hit menopause, I’m pretty sure he’d have knocked me up!”

“A healthy sex life is a foundation of a successful relationship,” Harold commented, deftly slicing a loaf of bread with a knife that Willa had supplied him. Somewhat to their surprise, the slices were uniform and the correct thickness for toasting on the oven’s surface. “What, a man can’t slice bread?”

“You’re the guest, so you sit down and get out of the way!” Greta ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said meekly, putting the knife on the cutting board on the counter as she propelled him to the table in the corner. “Hey!” he exclaimed as he felt a squeeze applied to his ass.

“I don’t know what you did to Mom last night, but thank you,” she whispered in his ear. “She’s been a bit of a bear these last few days.”

“She really needed a massage,” he murmured, just barely audible. “Should I show Dan the technique?” he inquired with a wink as he was plunked into a chair, his eyes on the level of her not inconsiderable bosom. “In the long cold nights to come, he could get in some practice.”

“You are a dirty old man,” she scolded unconvincingly, getting a snicker from her mother.

“Who’s a dirty old man?” Nell, her daughter, asked with interest as she entered the kitchen, dressed in her blouse and jeans, ready for the day. It was Saturday, so she didn’t have to go to school. She turned and saw Harold sitting at the table. “Oh, of course. Good morning, Healer Harold. You made Grandma happy last night and again this morning, didn’t you?”

“She really needed a massage,” he replied, poker-faced. “Her back and neck muscles were all knotted up. I managed to loosen them up so she’ll be more comfortable.” Nell was a clear mixture of her mother and father, with hazel eyes halfway between blue and brown, thick brown hair down to her shoulders, an average-sized mouth with her grandmother’s kissable lips, a thin, straight nose, and carefully sculpted eyebrows. Her tall, well-muscled farm girl frame also had curves in all the right places that probably attracted all sorts of attention from the males and females who leaned that way.

“Whatever it is that you did, we felt it, and it felt really good. Bill here,” she indicated her older brother, who had just joined them, “had his cock out his window firing a huge load into the air this morning, and probably last night too.” The outside door opened and Dan returned, carrying a pail of milk.

“She won’t mention that her wooden friend got a couple of good workouts,” he added in a smooth baritone voice, blocking a swipe from her. Everyone in the kitchen had red faces and didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else. Harold cleared his throat and coughed.

“Let’s just say that sex with Mages can occasionally have unexpected side effects and let it go at that,” he suggested, “before breakfast gets too disrupted.” This managed to restore some order and soon the aromas of brewing coffee, frying bacon, bread toasting and oatmeal with raisins filled the air. Harold saved Dan a trip to the cellar where the milk sterilizer, an optional part of the heating mechanism, was located by hitting the pail with a milk-oriented Sterilize spell that had it bubbling and steaming briefly.

“It looks like things are well underway,” Greta announced several minutes later. “Nell and Bill, you can help your Grandma Willa finish up and serve. I believe that our visiting Mage promised to show Dan his massage technique.” Dan’s quizzical stare got a conspiratorial wink from the Healer. The three of them trooped off to the living room, where she lay on the floor and Harold led her husband on a ten-minute hands-on demonstration of how to massage her back, arms, and legs. The Healer had looked up early on while the others were busy to see Bill watching quietly but intently from the doorway.

“Never underestimate the power of a massage,” Harold advised Dan, with a wink towards their son. “Of course, both parties can benefit,” he concluded, getting them to switch places so he could demonstrate it to Greta, who proved to be just as fast a learner as her husband.

“Come and get it!” Willa’s voice bellowed from the kitchen. No time was wasted in responding to the command, and soon they were all seated at the table with a bowl of oatmeal and raisins, buttered toast and bacon on plates, a glass of milk and a mug of coffee. Conversation was genial, involving plans for the day, speculation on the severity of the coming storm (Harold obligingly closed his eyes, concentrated, reached out to feel the air, and pronounced it would be enough to shut things down for a day) and whether or not Nell should take the chance on going to school because of it (I’ll take her in the buggy and bring her back – it shouldn’t be too far advanced when school is over, announced Bill, getting the stink-eye from Nell).

“I wish that I could linger, but I have to get on the road soon if I want to even have a hope of getting to Magwitch before things get too bad,” said the Healer regretfully, looking out the window at the bleak landscape under the leaden sky.

“Your Leila will be waiting for you,” said Willa, making him cough and splutter over the last of his coffee. “Hey, you think that we don’t know about you? Word gets around. She’s a lovely lady and an excellent Healer. And masseuse,” she added with a knowing wink. That just made it worse. After he’d finally regained his ability to speak, Harold replied,

“It was pretty much love at first sight. Which does happen, believe it or not. Our daughter will be seven this coming Summer Solstice. Let me help with the dishes.” He zapped them with a Clean spell with a loud rattle and clatter that made them jump. “That was a delicious breakfast. Thank you very much! I’ll just make a quick trip to the privy and be on my way, if you don’t mind.” He borrowed a coat and hastened out to the structure that was several yards from the back door. While he was gone, Willa and Greta made a sandwich each with some beef and cheese from the icebox and a couple of apples, which he gratefully accepted, along with filling his water canteen from the kitchen pump.

“You’re going to need these,” said Willa as they all gathered by the front door, where Harold had his heavy pack and battered ash staff with various interesting carvings on it waiting and was putting on his boots. She was holding a green knitted wool sweater and matching hat, which he put on.

“Wow, they’re just the right size,” he said, surprised. “And I’d better get outside soon before I roast myself! They’re really warm! Thank you very much!” He put on his hooded, dark brown, down-filled coat that extended below his ass, and with a grunt of effort got his large, heavy pack on his back.

“What’s in that thing?” Nell demanded. “It weighs a ton!”

“My ‘official’ working clothes, which I seldom bother with unless there’s a formal occasion that I have to attend, my medical kit for dealing with things that Magic can’t, extra rations in case I get stranded, and lots of books,” he groaned as he adjusted it. “One of my jobs is to deliver updated editions of various books to the local Healers on my route. This thing was even heavier when I first started.”

“Thanks for stopping by,” said Dan, shaking his hand, followed by the others. “We’ll be sure to practise the massage techniques you showed us. Strained muscles are a part of farm work.” The hungry look that Greta gave him did not pass unnoticed.

“I hope you make it to Magwitch before the storm does,” said Bill as he opened the door.

“Me too,” the Healer replied, stepping outside and turning. “I have my Ward to keep the wind off me and the lovely sweater to keep me warm, so I’ll be all right even if it ambushes me.” The door was hastily closed because the wind, albeit still light, was cold, and he turned and walked down the long driveway before stopping at the Magwitch Road. With a final wave in the direction of the house, he turned and began to walk, the light tapping of his staff on the frozen ground marking his progress.

The breeze was coming from the southwest, was cold, and smelled of rain. The centre of the storm was going to pass to the north, somewhere between Magwitch and the Capital, and the really cold air would sweep in behind it. It promised to be one of those that started with rain, then progressed through various combinations of water and ice to snow. The Healer figured that he had a couple of hours of wiggle room in his walk to Magwitch, and he intended to make the most of it, settling into the cadence that maximized speed while minimizing energy, as much as the frozen, frequently rutted, road would allow. Normally, he walked past the Provis Town Cemetery, about a mile out of town, without a second glance, but today he saw smoke wafting across the road from a fire in the grounds. Intrigued, he walked in on the wide entrance road and made his way through the rows of gravestones to the part that was still accepting new arrivals. A simple pine casket lay on the ground next to the fire, which had been carefully laid to cover a rectangular area that was the size of a plot, and probably not by coincidence.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he addressed the two burly men, who were dressed in warm, worn coats, hats, boots, gloves, and heavy trousers. A pair of shovels, a pair of picks, and a pair of long straps made up the collection. “You are the first signs of life I’ve seen here since I started walking this route. What’s with the fire?”

“You must be one of the Healers,” replied the taller one, who had a rough blond beard and mild green eyes. “You deal with the living, trying to keep them from coming to us.” They both chuckled, rather more theatrically than necessary, Harold thought, suppressing an eye roll.

“I’m Harold Moser, Senior Healer of the Order of St. Thrimble,” he introduced himself. Dave Skolnik was the one who’d first spoken; the other was Joe Green.

“We’re thawing the ground so we can plant this fellow before the storm comes,” replied Joe in a surprisingly deep voice. He had black hair in a pony tail, dark brown eyes, and a black beard liberally sprinkled with gray. “The picks don’t do too well otherwise.”

“That makes sense,” Harold replied, walking around and examining it with a professional eye. The fire had now burned down to mostly embers and ash. “The vast majority of burials that I’ve participated in were in warmer climes in warmer times, and the hole had always been ready ahead of time, with no sign of the people who’d made it possible.” He leaned on his staff and looked off into the distance, before turning back to them as they poked and stirred the embers. “Gentlemen, you and your brethren are the unsung heroes of the end-of-life. Nobody sees you or hears you, and your work goes unrecognized.” He gave them a respectful bow, rather carefully because of the heavy load on his back, that they received in some surprise. “I should get on my way. I have to get to Magwitch before the storm hits.” He turned to go.

“Wait a moment,” said Dave tentatively. Harold stopped and turned back. “This is, or was, Paul Marchand,” the man said, pointing to the casket. “He died about a month ago, but nobody knew until a bill collector came out to his farm and found his remains in his kitchen chair with half a cup of coffee on the table. He must have had a heart attack or something. Anyway, he’d always kept to himself. We don’t know if he had a family or anything, but we have to plant him before the storm hits.”

“Would you care to say a few words for him, Healer Harold?” Joe asked, stirring the remains of the fire. “Seeing as there’s nobody else to?” They saw his gaze shift far away in distance, far away in time, as the words, so often spoken, returned as fresh as they had been on the battlefield.

“Paul Marchand, I wish you all the peace and happiness in the next life that you didn’t have in this one. In the name of the Goddess, I give your remains back to the Earth so that your spirit may walk amongst the stars until it returns to a new life here.” They removed their hats and bowed their heads and Harold saluted him in the military way, with his right fist over his heart. After a few moments, they looked up and put their hats on against the chilling breeze. “The Engineering Mage in my unit in the Carcosa campaign taught us a spell that helps move earth by doubling the capacity of a shovel but not increasing the weight. If you like, I can cast it and Ward you against the wind.”

“Sure thing,” said Dave, “anything that will get us home faster. And we’ve never seen real Magic at work before.” They got the shovels and Harold cleared his mind, recalled the spell that hadn’t been used for so long, and cast it. The shovels started glowing a dull red and blue shifting pattern.

“That’s pretty cool,” said Joe, who usually was not impressed by anything. “Let’s give it a try, Dave.” Harold got out of the way to give them room and wove a Ward on their windward side, which greatly helped against the cold. The two gravediggers were quite surprised to see that the spell worked as advertised, perhaps even a little better, and within half an hour they had a hole four feet deep and a big pile of soil next to it. “I think that’ll do,” he said, puffing hard from the work and looking at the sky, which had somehow become even more gloomy. “Let’s put him in and be done with it.” They got the straps under the casket, maneuvered it over the hole with grunts of exertion, lowered it in, then pulled the straps out. Harold got his staff and tapped the casket three times.

“Mighty or weak, we all wind up back in the soil,” he said the final words as the others began shoveling the dirt back into the hole, the loads hitting the casket with hollow thuds. “Come back again, and may your future be better than your past.” He saluted again, then put on his pack, which he’d taken off, with a grunt. “Gentlemen, may the Goddess guard your steps, and those of your families.” He saluted them, and they returned it. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”

“Thank you, Healer Harold,” said Dave. “Maybe we will.” They returned to their job, and Harold walked away through the cemetery and back to the waiting road. Though the road’s unevenness required some care, the empty fields and leafless forests had little to attract his attention, and as usual when he was walking, his mind wandered.

An Enchantment is a self-sustaining spell that draws the energy required to sustain it from the Natural or Magical Environment, rather than some or all of it from the caster. Mages with the true knack for Enchantment were a rarity, always in high demand, and often made major contributions to the field. About sixty years ago, Nora Patterson figured out how to bind Purify Water to a section of pipe and use the kinetic energy of the flowing water to power it. Suddenly, the Capital’s sometimes unreliable water supply from wells could be drawn from the infinite supply of the ocean with the aid of the then-nascent steam engine pumps. Even more significant was the ability to clean the water from the sewers so that the harbour would not be too foul to even consider using. Of course, the filth had to go somewhere, and suitable spots downwind of the cities were found and engineered to contain, process, and eventually tame it. As news and applications spread rapidly through the world, water-borne diseases dropped sharply and average lifespans improved. Nora’s portrait hung front and center in the main halls of all of the Mage Academies and she had been able to research many more advances in the field with the money she had been given by grateful nations.

He was one of the many whose abilities did not lean towards Enchantment, but reading of Nora’s paper on that spell had led him down a path that had resulted in his finding a way to enhance the Ward spell so that it could absorb kinetic energy from wind and rain, and incidentally kicks from uncooperative horses and livestock, and weapons wielded by hostile people. He’d gotten an A+ in his Year 9 Independent Research project, several awards, including some surprises from foreign realms, and eventually its success led to him and the other Mages all but shitting their pants as they led a desperate cavalry charge against the forces of the Yellow Autarch of Carcosa. Because of the Autarch’s repression of anything Magical in favour of his “Religion” (save for the water purification pipes which even he wasn’t stupid enough to destroy), his army had not had anything to deal with the Ward Wedges that had smashed the lines and allowed the “real” cavalry and charging foot soldiers to destroy the position in a muddy, bloody cacophony of death and destruction. The many burials over which the Mages had presided came later after the last resistance in the city had been finally overcome.

The freshening southwesterly wind had finally reached the point at which it could support his Ward completely, which made him a lot warmer. He still had to leave the area from just below his boot tops to the ground uncovered so that the air inside would remain fresh. Four hours of walking and melancholy thoughts brought him to the halfway point and it was well past time to eat his sandwiches. He sought shelter in a half-ruined old barn several feet off the road. After a much-needed piss against the lee wall, he made his way inside to eat his lunch, allowing his pack to slide off his back to land with a thud on one of the few patches of dirt that weren’t covered with some sort of rubbish. The gloom from the outside through the door hole hardly made an impression on the shadows and murk within. With a groan, he sat next to his pack and opened the top to retrieve the two sandwiches, which were generous portions of smoked beef, cheese, and preserved tomato between thick slices of brown bread. The first one disappeared quickly, washed down by generous swigs of water from the canteen that he’d kept under his coat to keep its contents from freezing.

“Thank you, Willa,” he said to himself. He had just lifted the second one and opened his mouth for the first bite when he heard a whimper from nearby. “Who’s there?” he demanded, looking and not seeing anything, then conjuring a moderately bright Mage Light to combat the darkness of the building. The head of a dog had emerged from under a pile of debris about three feet away, and it was soon followed by the rest of it. It was medium-sized, dirty, wet, and thin, and the extended teats and bulging belly required no veterinarian skills to tell him that it was a female, and very close to her time to give birth.

“You poor thing,” he said softly, noting how her dark brown eyes were fixed on his sandwich. She whimpered again, licked her lips, and made a tentative step forward. “Come here, I won’t hurt you.” He tossed a piece of meat at her and it was snapped out of the air and devoured. A piece of cheese met a similar fate as the dog came close enough for him to pet her head. She leaned into an ear scratch and gratefully accepted another piece of meat. “You’re a total mess,” he said. He stood up and gently pushed the dog a couple of feet away, walked back to his pack, and adjusted his Ward. Then he hit the dog with a combination of Clean and Banish Water, causing a big spray of filthy water to shoot through the dilapidated barn. The dog shook herself, happy to be rid of it. He followed up with Flea Buster, which poofed her medium-length black, white, and tan fur out and sent a large number of smoking sparks in all directions. Worm Buster was cast on the last piece of meat that was eagerly devoured. She was not in the least bit interested in the apples, so he ate them, knowing that he’d need all the food he could get.

“Let’s have a look inside,” he continued, casting the Window and giving her a quick once-over. Five puppies were waiting to be born, but aside from that, her state of near-starvation, and the worms in her gut that were rapidly being annihilated by the spell, she seemed healthy enough.

“Now, how am I going to get you home?” he asked himself as the dog lumbered up to him and stuck her nose in his crotch. “There’s no need for that!” He could see hope in her eyes, which had likely been a non-existent commodity in her short life. “You are too big and heavy to carry.” There was no way she could walk all the way in her condition. The air had just come alive with the sounds of rain and sleet striking the walls and what was left of the roof and dripping down into the structure. After weighing a number of options, he decided on Air Sled, which was a variant of the Ward, except that it was a shelf parallel to the ground whose height could be adjusted as needed.

“How would you like a ride home with me?” he asked the dog, which sat back on her haunches and scratched herself. With words and gestures, he cast the spell, making a platform large enough to hold the dog and his pack, shading it gray so she could see it. The loud pop it made as it appeared made the dog jump back and bark at it in alarm. When nothing else happened, she stopped and carefully approached, sniffed at it, then looked at Harold and made an inquisitive whine.

“Get on. That’s your ride.” She was reluctant to get too near this strange thing that had appeared out of nowhere, so Harold had grab her and put her onto it. He felt an initial drain on his energy as the platform adjusted to the dog’s weight, but the spell used the same trick as his Ward in using the force being applied against it to mostly power it. He closed his pack and added it to the platform, then extended his Ward to cover it and himself. “You may be wondering why I don’t use this for my backpack all the time,” he said conversationally as he elevated the platform to chest level, causing more energy drain, and pushed it through the doorway into the storm. The dog looked around in wonder as rain and sleet washed off the Ward and the wind blew around the protective bubble, then laid her head down to rest peacefully, perhaps for the first time in her life.

“I don’t know if it’s the interaction between the force of gravity and being pushed, or the planet’s magnetic field that interacts with its forward motion, or some other damn thing. Either way, it means that after a while the spell destabilizes and starts draining more and more energy from me until I have to cut it off. Moving at about this pace,” which was a brisk walk, made treacherous by frozen ruts that were filling with slush, “maximizes the distance that I can travel.” As Harold had intended, the dog was now sound asleep, which he figured was as good a way as any to delay the start of labour.

The Healer balanced his staff across the front of the Sled and slogged on through the storm, carefully monitoring the flows of energy in his spells, siphoning some from the Ward as it was collected from the wind and precipitation and putting it either into himself or the Sled. “There’s got to be some way to keep this stable,” he muttered as he felt and directed the various energies. “Can’t I make some sort of negative feedback to dampen the oscillations? Anything?” The Air Sled Problem was always presented in third-year Air Spells class as being unsolvable “as far as we know, but if you do solve it, there’s a huge prize in it for you.” There was a long list of “conventional approaches” and their variations that had failed, but had at least managed to extend the life of the spell by varying degrees. There was a shorter list of “unconventional approaches” and their variations, some of which extended the life of the spells and several others which had created trips to the Infirmary for either the casters or nearby unfortunates, including him.

“Why can’t we just make a horizontal Ward?” Harold complained after another mile had passed, as many others had over many years, as he made his way along the middle of the road. He had no worry about encountering traffic. Hell, the stagecoach that ran a similar route to the one he walked never seemed to run at the time he needed it. “Because the mathematics won’t allow it,” he replied in a mocking falsetto. “The Ward won’t work at an angle less than 45 degrees and it took mathematicians and physicists a hundred years to prove why,” he continued, changing his voice to mimic one of the Professors back in his day. The dog moaned quietly and kicked a bit, obviously dreaming. “We can’t use The Cheat on Levitation.” The Cheat is the twist that allows environmental energy to be used to at least partially power a spell.

“So, my dear pooch, you rest your furry body on a three-dimensional manifestation of Fourier Series whose sines and cosines can be bent and twisted to approximate a flat surface, but not quite. And those lovely functions won’t fucking stay still!” He scowled and had to pause to squash some wandering functions. “I’ve been hearing about something new called ‘quantum mechanics’ that the eggheads say will revolutionize physics, mathematics, chemistry, and who knows what else. What do you think? Will it help make this damned spell finally work properly?” Roused from her slumber, the dog lifted her head and looked at him, then moved her tail and farted loudly. An obnoxious odor filled the Warded area and he had to hastily open it up a bit to let fresh air blow in.

“Not a fan. I understand,” he coughed, wondering if his face was as green as he felt. Another mile plodded by slowly, as he felt his fatigue increasing and his grip on the spell loosening. “Time to stop and rest.” The air sled dropped to ground level with a thump, and then dissolved with several flashes of light. Dog, pack, and staff hit the wet, frozen ground and Harold groaned with relief. The dog made a complaining noise, but got up, wandered over to the side of the road and squatted. “That’s a good idea,” he mused, going to the other side of the road, making the necessary arrangements of clothing and Ward, and relieving his bladder. The rain had changed to small ice pellets that rattled and hissed off of his Ward as the wind gusted around him. Her needs met, the dog lumbered back to the Healer, who quickly let her into the protected area around him, where she sat on her haunches and looked expectantly at him.

“Hungry, eh?” he asked. “All I have are emergency field rations. Can’t leave home without them. But I don’t know if you’ll like it.” He dug into his pack and pulled out a flat metal box, which he opened, then pulled out a block the size of a pound of butter and wrapped in military olive-green waxed paper. She stretched out to sniff it, then gave him an ‘are you kidding me’ look. “Yeah, it’s not appetizing, but two of these will keep an average soldier going for a day.” He unwrapped it, broke off a piece and placed it in front of the dog, who sniffed it again, then reluctantly sighed and started chewing on it. He did the same. It was bland with a mild vanilla flavour and had the texture of cheese. He allowed himself half of the ration and the dog another piece before wrapping the remainder in the wax paper, returning it to the box, and putting the box back in his pack. “That should give me enough energy to get us home.” He stood up, enlarged the Ward, and cast the spell, using the variation that provided the longest lifetime he could manage. Dog, pack, and staff were placed on the platform of solid air, which was elevated so he could push it comfortably.

“Most people aren’t convinced that there is a Goddess,” he continued in his monologue. Visibility had declined as the rate of sleet-fall had increased, not that there was much worth seeing in the desolate, empty farmland around them anyway. His boots crunched through a layer that was at least an inch deep and was starting to make footing a bit greasy. He was talking now to keep himself awake, as the sounds of the wind and the sleet combined with the increasing fatigue from maintaining the Air Sled spell, were starting to make him sleepy. He was only about two miles from the eastern farmlands around Magwitch, so he couldn’t stop now. There also wasn’t much daylight left, so he slogged on, harvesting what energy he could from the Ward. “I don’t know if there is one Goddess, or several, or what. But I did meet one, you know, on the road from Havisham to Portnoy, which is the first town on this circuit.” The dog yawned.

“I had just started my job with the Order and it was early in August. There had been a good growing season and the corn was as tall as I am, and the wheat as high as I’ve ever seen it. It was quite warm, and I was walking down the main road from the highway that runs through Havisham and ends in the Capital. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before because I’d been nervous, not knowing what to expect, and the warmth and the soothing sounds of the countryside had lulled me into a walking doze, something you learn to do when you’re in the Army. I’d been alone, except for the occasional horse and wagon going the other way. Why can’t more traffic be going my way?” he complained. “Anyway, suddenly I was not alone. I looked to my left and walking beside me was a woman who could have just walked off one of the local farms. She had a straw hat on top of a long mane of curly red hair, which is uncommon around here, a cute, turned-up nose, a dusting of freckles, and a rosebud of a mouth that looked like it could be kissed forever. She was nearly as tall as me and looked like she could throw down with any uncooperative livestock with the best of them, but her figure was still rounded out in all the right places.” He paused to make an adjustment to the spell, and the dog thumped her tail once to indicate she was still pretending to listen.

“‘Good afternoon, ma’am,’ I said to her. ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t hear you coming. I’m Harold Moser, the new guy in the Order of St. Thrimble, come to visit Portnoy to tend to their medical needs.’

‘I am Ellen,’ she replied, in a voice that was as warm and sweet as honey on fresh toast. She turned her head to look at me, and it was her eyes that captivated me. They were an intense green that is also very rare around here, and a shade that I’ve never seen before or since. ‘I live around here and spend a lot of time walking around, keeping an eye on things. I saw your staff and pack and thought that you were one of the Healers.’ She stopped at the mouth of a driveway that led to a farmhouse at the top of a small hill and looked up at it. ‘Someone up there needs your help urgently. Go there and help them.’ When I turned to look at her, she was gone. I looked all around and there was no sign she’d ever been there. I freaked out a bit because I was sure I’d just been talking to a ghost, but I also recognized an order when I heard one, and began hustling up the driveway. Halfway up I saw a big, fat earthworm struggling to get across, so I stopped to pick it up and toss it into the grass before continuing to the house.” He looked up and saw that another mile had passed. The Air Sled was still in good condition, so he continued.

“To make a long story short, a woman was suffering from advanced sepsis from an infected cut on a leg and I’d gotten there just in the nick of time to save her life. When I told them that it was a woman who’d directed me to the house, they had no idea of who she was, though the youngest daughter said that she was a guardian angel that she’d talked to yesterday in the barnyard. I walked back down the driveway towards the road, and halfway there she was walking beside me again.” Harold muttered something best not repeated as he damped out some oscillations. The dog didn’t respond, as she’d fallen asleep. With no audience, he continued to replay the memory in his head.

“Thank you for saving her, Harold,” she had said in her melt-your-heart voice of honey. ‘You did an excellent job under pressure.”

“Thank YOU for letting me know,” he had replied warmly. “I would have just walked by and she would have died. Only Healing Magic can save someone with advanced sepsis. It was a very close call.” He had paused to give her Very Respectful Bow #1. “You are far more than just a guardian angel, aren’t you? I am surprised that you didn’t just heal her yourself.”

“I can do many things, Harold, but advanced Healing has always eluded me,” she had admitted. “The best that I can do for the people is to make sure that the best care is available for them. You passed the test, and I welcome you to this part of the Westlands.”

“I am greatly honoured, Goddess,” he had replied, repeating Very Respectful Bow #1. “Sepsis is a pretty tough practical exam.” She had smiled, which had illuminated his heart.

“Not that,” she had replied, giving his nose a boop with her finger, much to his surprise. “It was rescuing the poor earthworm without a second thought. It revealed your spirit to me in a way no other test could.” She had leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips, sending an electric thrill of warmth and peace through him. Then she was gone again. He had lost his apprehension and sailed through the rest of the day in a cloud of well-being. He had Healed a complex injury to a horse that would have otherwise resulted in its being euthanized and repaired a fractured hip that an elderly resident had suffered in a fall. He had been treated to a nice dinner at the local inn, cleverly called the Kumon Inn, walked around a bit to see the place, then finally checked into his room feeling pleasantly tired. To his surprise, Sterilizing the bedding had resulted in no deaths of unwanted insects. The evening had cooled off nicely and soon he was in bed, drifting off to sleep. Then she was there in the room with him, with a faint golden glow around her. He had sat up, confused, wondering if he was dreaming.

“Hello, Harold,” she had said. “Both of your calls were very difficult and you handled them very well. Your Order chose well.”

“Thank you, Goddess. Your kiss this afternoon somehow made all the doubts and worries disappear and I felt at peace for the first time in years. All that I want to do is to help people and to make a difference. Knowing that my work will please you is icing on the cake.”

“You will be approached by women who will want to take you to their beds,” she had continued, moving towards his bed with her hips swaying hypnotically. “How will you respond?”

“Like I have in the past,” he had responded, looking her in her amazing green eyes. “I will not disappoint any woman who trusts me enough to offer me a space in her bed. She will get treated the way she wants, and the way she deserves. Satisfaction guaranteed.” She had slowly unbuttoned her off-white blouse and allowed it to drop to the floor, revealing perfect D-sized breasts unrestrained by a bra, capped by cherry-red areolas and long, hard nipples. Her brown farmer’s jeans were casually unbuttoned and shimmied off her hips, quickly followed by her sensible white cotton underwear, revealing a perfectly trimmed triangle of curly red hair.

“Do you like what you see?” she had asked, twirling around to give him a view of her shapely ass. Unable to speak, he had nodded, wide-eyed.

“Come join me,” he finally said, moving over to the other side of the double-sized bed. “I pre-warmed this side just for you,” he added gallantly, and she did. “When a woman comes to me, she may already be ready for some action, but I don’t want to just jump on and start humping. She needs to be really warmed up and made ready.” They had been facing each other, her lips within easy reach of a quick kiss that would last forever. “So, I start with a massage, if I may?”

“Go ahead, Harold. You have my consent, if that is what you seek.” She had pulled her long, curly red hair back, causing her breasts to rise and fall, and his eyeballs with them. He had nodded, tearing his gaze from her breasts with difficulty, and reached up to place his hands on either side of her short, muscular neck, and summoned Magic to his fingers.

“Normally, I start with the back, but there is plenty of tension here that I can reach from the front.” Goddess or not, her body still was subject to the same tensing forces as a regular human, and his strong, skilled hands probed and kneaded, aided by green and turquoise sparks slipping into the tight spots. He moved from her neck to her shoulders, then down each arm, including her hands and fingers.

“I have felt a lot of things in my time,” she had said, wide-eyed, “but never a massage such as this. Usually, they want to do a body-rub to get me aroused, but you’ve given a real massage. You haven’t even touched my breasts and I’m already ready to jump you.” These were echoes of what Willa had told him, of course. He had had plenty of practice with more-than-willing subjects, and they nearly all followed the same path. The Goddess scooted down and laid down. “Attend to my breasts. My nipples feel like they’re going to pop off if you don’t do something.”

“Human women can get orgasms from having their breasts attended to,” he had said with a wicked grin. “If you stroke the nipples like this,” he gently stroked the rock-hard buds, sending in a few sparks and earning a wide-eyed, ragged moan, “and squeeze here, and brush there, then lick the nipples like this…” She had been breathing harder and harder and then suddenly closed her eyes and moaned loudly while shaking like a leaf. When they opened again, they briefly had a look of vulnerability that he found touching as he moved in for a long, gentle kiss. “My work here is done,” he had whispered, his mouth close enough to hers to brush her lips with his.

“Not so fast, Healer!” the Goddess had growled. “My pussy is a raging furnace! Get on me and get in me right now! Your Goddess commands it!”

“But I’m not sure if I’m ready,” he said, batting his eyelashes. She had pushed him away, sat up, and flicked away the sheet, revealing his hard cock glowing in shifting patterns of green and turquoise. She grabbed and milked a large drop of pre-cum onto her hand, which she then licked off as he watched.

“Get over here!” She had grabbed him and hauled him on top of her, and after a quick adjustment, he had pushed his way inside her hot, wet pussy in one thrust. “Now it’s my turn,” she had purred, clamping down and bucking slowly. Harold had moaned uncontrollably, as she was sending sparks of her own into his cock. “I am going to give you the biggest orgasm you will ever have,” she had whispered, her lips to his, “and that lovely shiny cock of yours won’t rise again for a week.”

“Making love to a Goddess,” he had mumbled deliriously, “must satisfy the Goddess.” Despite his near overload, he was somehow able to summon energy of his own that he sent into her while pounding away as hard as he could. She had wrapped her arms and legs around him, all but making them one.

“What are you doing? Aaahhh!” It was too much for both of them and they came with him thrusting his cock in as far as it would go and spraying squirt after squirt of cum until there was nothing left. All they could do was breathe heavily for a few moments until she had pushed him and he had rolled off.

“Satisfaction guaranteed?” he had slurred, seeing stars and barely able to move.

“I have not been this satisfied for a long, long time,” she had finally replied. “Someday, we will meet again, Healer Harold. You have my blessing.” She had leaned over to kiss his forehead, then slowly vanished as he had lost consciousness. Harold snapped out of his reverie, suddenly realizing that it was nearly dark and that he had somehow made it almost to Leila’s house. But something felt odd. He looked down at the Air Sled and saw that it was faintly glowing in the same colour as the Goddess had, but most strangely, it felt secure and stable.

“What on Earth?” he asked, feeling confused. The sleet had changed over to snow sometime during his reminiscence. His cock was hard and he somehow felt that there was a connection between that and the stability of the spell. “An erotic memory is needed to stabilize the Air Sled? Really?” This would have to be investigated further. It was also odd that he had not even thought about meeting the Goddess until now, and that the Air Sled was glowing in her colour could be just a coincidence, but…

“Thank you, Goddess,” he said aloud, looking around and, of course, seeing nothing but snow and hearing nothing but the crunch of sleet and snow under his feet and the wind whispering through a spruce tree. “I am, and always will be, your faithful servant.”

“Harold! What are you doing out there?” Leila had clearly been watching for him, as she was standing with her head peeking through a barely opened front door. “What’s that?”

“Just bringing home another bitch to play with,” he replied saucily, getting a scowl in return. He smirked as he pushed the Air Sled up the sleet and snow-covered stone-flagged path to the door. Leila quickly opened it, slammed it shut, and bolted it after they had scrambled through.

“Papa! You made it home!” said an excited six-year-old Marcie, popping her head out from her room, where she had been doing homework. “The weather is so bad, I thought you wouldn’t make it! Is that a dog? What’s that?” Smiling at her enthusiasm, Harold held up his hand to forestall the usual charge.

“This dog is very close to having her puppies,” he said. “We need to get something set up to make her comfortable when her time comes. What she has been riding on is called an Air Sled.” Regretfully, he allowed the spell to unravel and its load hit the floor with a thud from his pack, a clatter from his staff, and a woof from the dog.

“The kitchen is the best place, as it’s the warmest,” said Leila. “Hey!” The dog had stuck her nose in Leila’s crotch by way of introduction. Indignation was softened by loving brown eyes, which seemed to be asking for a head and ear scratch, which she found herself giving.

“I’ll get blankets from the guest bedroom,” said Marcie, launching herself into the task with determination. The two Healers led the dog to the kitchen, which was illuminated by a globe of warm yellow Mage Light on the ceiling in the middle of the room. The best place seemed to be on the wall opposite the door to the backyard, next to the table. Marcie shuffled in a minute later, overloaded with blankets from the cupboard in the guest room. She then raced to the front living room and returned with two cushions from the sofa.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” said Leila, relieving their daughter of her burden and arranging the blankets and cushions in a carefully shaped pile, onto which the dog carefully lowered herself.

“I think she’s starting,” said Marcie, looking closely and gently stroking the dog’s head. “She’s breathing hard and clenching up.”

“You’re right, Marcie,” said Harold, casting a practiced eye on the dog. “I couldn’t have timed that better if I’d tried.” He leaned his staff in the nearby corner and cast his eyes on the icebox on the other side of the large room. “I am really glad to be home, and it looks like I’ll be here for a while. I hope you’ll be able to stand it,” he added with a wink directed at Leila, while returning her smoldering gaze. As Leila, whose tall, well-shaped frame and long, copper-coloured hair that was starting to go silver, started to prepare dinner, he told them the story of how he’d found the dog and gotten her here.

“How did you manage to hang on to the Air Sled spell so long? Nobody’s ever been able to hold on to it for more than a couple of hours without hurting themselves.” The meat and vegetables had been cut up ahead of time, so the cooking process was quickly underway.

“Did the Goddess help you?” Marcie asked from her station. “Look, we have two pups already!”

“I believe that she did,” Harold replied, filling a mug of water from the pump. “After I’d stopped to take a break before the first spell was about to short out, I restarted it and continued on, but for the first time in years, I started remembering when I’d first met her on my first day on the job. There was something about the memory and how intense it was that managed to stabilize the spell until I got home.” He and Leila exchanged another smoldering look.

“The sled was glowing in her colour,” Marcie continued matter-of-factly, petting the dog’s head. “She told me that she would help Papa home tonight, and to give you her love.” Harold inhaled some of his drink and started coughing, while Leila gave her an undecipherable look.

“When did you see the Goddess?” she asked over the sounds of frying ham and the bubbling pots of potatoes and carrots. “She seldom shows herself. Or if she does, people keep quiet about it.”

“It was yesterday, Mama, as I was walking home from school. I didn’t hear her coming, but then there she was beside me. She said that Mama and Papa were both very special and that Papa would be coming home tomorrow night in the storm. Oh, and she sends you her love too, Mama.”

“What did she look like?” Harold managed to choke out.

“Tall, strong, curly red hair, and the most beautiful green eyes. I didn’t know that people’s eyes could be green. Oh, here’s another pup.” The two Healers’ next look all but screamed out ‘We have to talk about this!’ “She called herself Cleo, and I think that we should name the dog Cleo too.”

“We all serve the Goddess in our own ways,” Harold said reflectively after a pause in which only the quiet moans of the dog, the cooking, the wind outside, and the gentle puffing of the boiler-pump that heated the floors and kept the house warm were heard. “I think that Cleo would be a good name.”

“Birthing is really gross!” Marcie complained, but she still kept the dog company, petting and soothing her as she popped them out and did what was necessary to clean them up and get them to her swollen teats to nurse. All except for the last one, which came out just as Leila was putting dinner on the table. “Mama! Papa! This one isn’t moving!” she said sadly. “Is it dead?” Harold, who had been drowsing in his chair at the table, woke up.

“Poor little thing,” said Leila sadly. “This must be the runt of the litter. It was crammed in the back and didn’t have a chance to grow properly.” Cleo whined and nosed the pup, which was noticeably smaller than its littermates and mostly tan and black, with a strangely familiar white star-shaped blaze on its right shoulder blade.

“Let me see,” said Harold, carefully picking it up and holding it in the palm of his left hand.

“I can sense some life there,” said Leila, touching its head with a forefinger.

“Its heart isn’t beating,” Harold nodded, “but I think that we can start it like we do with people’s hearts. But I have to be very careful to get the charge right.” Leila quickly summoned a Window and positioned it so that the tiny heart was visible.

“It’s so small,” said Marcie, having a look. “Can you save it, Papa?”

“I think so,” he replied, already lost in concentration. The wind buffeting the house and the crackling of the fire in the stove were the only sounds as Harold’s right little finger started to glow green and turquoise. He gently placed it on the pup’s chest over the heart and blinked. A flicker of colour went into the heart, which made a heartbeat and then stopped. He tried again, with the same result. “Third time’s a charm,” he said, and tried three more in quick succession. After an agonizing pause, the heart started to beat on its own and the pup started to move in his palm, making little seeking motions and noises. He carefully placed it at an available teat and it latched on and began sucking hungrily. Cleo thumped her tail before resting her head on the blanket and closing her eyes.

“Papa, you’re crying,” said Marcie, giving him a hug as he was kneeling on the floor.

“I’m not crying, my eyes are sweating. It’s warm in here,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes and standing up, lifting his daughter with him.

“You silly man,” said Leila softly, embracing them both, and they stood there in the kitchen for a minute before Harold had to put Marcie down.

“Today I saved a life. Earlier today in Provis, I helped wrap up the life of another,” he continued, eyes streaming, as he sat on the chair. “The town’s cemetery is on the road from there to here, not far out of town. I was walking past it and saw smoke and fire. I went in the gate to check on it, and the caretakers were there, tending the fire on a gravesite. That’s how they thaw the ground so that they can dig deep enough to cover the coffin until Spring comes.” He told the rest of the story.

“You have seen so many die,” Leila whispered, holding him as he wept, “yet it never fails to affect you. It’s one reason why I love you so much.” Harold eventually regained his composure, and they sat down to eat dinner. Once the pups had finished their first meal and fallen asleep, Cleo got up and moved carefully to the door, where she scratched and whined, clearly wanting out. Leila cast a Ward on her and opened the door quickly. Cleo did her business, which Leila had to quickly Clean, then hastily returned inside. She sat and stared at them, obliging Leila to get up and give her the extra she had set aside, which was wolfed down. She yawned hugely and returned to her cushion and blanket nest with her pups.

“Wow, look, it’s 8:00 already,” said Harold, checking the wind-up clock that sat on a shelf on the back wall. “You have school tomorrow, and should go to bed,” he added hopefully.

“Nope!” Marcie responded gleefully. “School is cancelled today and tomorrow due to weather,” she recited. “So, I can stay up late!” He made a mock whine and tried the puppy-dog eyes.

“But you’ll get so bored! Mama and I will be talking about grown-up stuff.”

“We can play cards!” she announced, getting up, running to her room, and quickly returning with a cribbage board and a pack of cards. He turned a baleful gaze at Leila, who looked innocent.

“It’s a counting game, perfect for teaching little ones important number skills.”

“I can’t play cribbage!” he complained as Marcie set up the board and expertly shuffled the cards, despite her relatively small hands. “Whoa, that’s good shuffling!” he complimented. “Are you turning your child into a card shark?”

“I may well have created a monster with your child,” Leila replied, emphasizing the ‘your’, and shaking her head with a mournful expression, making her copper and somewhat silvered hair move enticingly. “She beats me more often than not.”

“I’m sure she’ll beat the pants off me,” Harold muttered rebelliously as his daughter carefully dealt out five cards to each person and added one for the pot, then turned up the Jack of Clubs.

“Two points for me!” she said gleefully, advancing her red peg two spots.

“And so it begins,” Harold moaned melodramatically, getting eye-rolls from the others. As the game progressed, he noted that his hands weren’t as crappy as they usually were. He and Leila sat opposite each other on the long sides of the table, with Marcie at the short end with her back to the wall. At the start of the third hand, he felt a sock-clad foot stroking his left pants leg. Its perpetrator appeared absorbed in her cards, but he knew better. At the start of the next hand, he complained ostentatiously, and not without cause, about the quality of his cards while casually stroking her left leg with his right foot, also sock-clad. Just how Marcie kept getting the good hands and they got middling to mediocre with such consistency, neither of them knew, but they quietly resorted to trying to give each other points while playing their cards and donating to their cribs just to keep up.

“Mama, you and Papa are helping each other, aren’t you?” she accused late in the game, glowering at them. She was “only” ahead of her mother by ten points and by fifteen from her father.

“We’re just playing the cards we’re given,” Leila replied innocently as her mate stroked her right leg. “It’s a wonder that we can keep up with you at all.” Harold was the dealer for the final hand and managed a late surge, but fell two points short of the 121 needed to win, the most that he’d ever scored. Leila got 120, but Marcie triumphed in the end. “After that performance, young lady, it’s definitely time for bed!” Leila announced in her Mom Voice, getting giggles and a big hug in return. “Papa will take you out to the privy,” she continued as she looked out the window. “That weather is too bad for you to go alone.” She and Harold got their coats and boots on, he cast a Mage Light, and they hurried outside, with a suddenly awake Cleo hot on their heels. Banish Water works on snow too, and he used it to clear the path to the privy, whose cold seat discouraged lingering. On the way back he had to hastily Clean the disgusting mess that the dog had deposited. When child and dog had been safely returned to the house, it was Leila’s turn to be escorted. Finally, Harold had his turn. She was waiting and wrapped him in her Ward and her arms.

“How did our child manage to do that?” she whispered into his right ear after a couple of nibbles and sticking her tongue in it.

“You’d better not teach her poker,” he murmured into her left ear, then kissing his way across her cheek until their lips locked, tongues invaded each other’s mouths, and the snow drifted and blew around them. “Let’s go inside. It’s warm in here, but cold and dark outside the Ward.” They wasted no more time returning to the kitchen, closing and locking the door, and removing their coats and boots. Marcie emerged from her bedroom, dressed in her flannel nightgown and socks, went to where Cleo was nursing her pups again, and gently scratched her head and ears.

“Do I have to go to bed now? I’m not tired.” She unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn.

“It’s time for our little card shark to go to her nice, warm bed and get a good night’s sleep. Maybe we’ll teach you Crazy Eights tomorrow,” said Leila, giving her a hug. They all went to her bedroom where they tucked her in and kissed her goodnight.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart,” said Harold.

“Goodnight, Papa. I’m glad you were able to come home,” she murmured sleepily as he gently closed the door.

“I suppose that it’s time for me to turn in,” he said, turning from Marcie’s door to that of the spare bedroom. “Goodness, there aren’t any blankets on the bed. I’ll be awfully cold tonight,” he added with wide, innocent eyes.

“There’s a bed in this room with plenty of warm blankets,” Leila replied, gently pushing him into her room. “And look! There’s room for two! You’ll be nice and warm.” She closed the door with a thump.

“Hmm, I don’t know – mmph!” There was no talking for the next couple of minutes as they kissed each other with all the longing and passion that an absence creates.

“I never got the chance to greet you properly when you came home,” said Leila, her lips just brushing his, and both of them breathing heavily. “But since Marcie was stuck in the house, we probably couldn’t have done much anyway.”

“I’m just glad that I was able to make it home,” he replied, giving her a kiss on the nose. “Just having you and Marcie here is all that I need. One of these days I’ll find a reason to stay for good.”

“My man, Saint Harold,” she murmured, “though I think that I’m feeling something not so saintly poking me in the belly.”

“Oh, that’s right, I left a bone for the dog in my pocket. I’d better go give it to her.”

“I think I know that bone.” She rapidly exposed it by unbuttoning his pants and pulling them and his underwear down to his ankles. “It’s a very tasty bone.” She licked the underside of his hot, very hard, cock that was glowing forest green and turquoise from his balls to the tip, swirled her tongue around the sensitive tip and retracted foreskin, then put her lips gently on it and worked her way down.

“Damn it, I’m coming already!” he groaned a complaint, but she had had advance warning from the preliminary pulses as he started to helplessly squirt his cum into her mouth.

“Mmm, you know how I like strawberry,” Leila purred. “Now you’ll last a little longer.”

“What will I do until I’m ready again?” Harold wondered, deftly unbuttoning her blouse and removing it and her bra. “I think that the twins have missed me,” he continued, gently squeezing her nearly D-sized breasts and licking each pink, quarter-inch nipple and medium-sized areola. He was rewarded with a ragged moan. All of the quiet footwork under the table had woken her dragon, and she was already close to coming. With a few more strategic licks and squeezes, she would have come right there, but he wanted more. “You can’t wear pants to bed! What would people think?” Her winter-weight jeans and very damp underwear soon became floor coverings and he gently kissed and licked his way from her breasts down her belly towards his hot, wet destination that his fingers were already rubbing and penetrating.

“Unggh!” was all she could say as her knees failed her and she fell back on the bed. Instantly he was licking and sucking her hardened clitoris while his middle finger was probing and rubbing her sweet spot in her vagina, and within seconds she was screaming into a pillow as her brain shorted out. Her man was the happy recipient of a squirt of fluid and didn’t mind at all that his finger was nearly crushed by the force of her orgasm. After she’d released him, he lovingly licked up the mess, getting even more moans from under the pillow, then they somehow got under the covers and cuddled together drowsily.

“Green apple? How did you manage that?” he asked.

“I have my ways,” Leila replied, not answering his question. “How I miss you when you’re gone,” she murmured into his ear.

“More than anything else, I wish that I could stay,” he replied as the wind buffeted the house, repulsed once again by its sturdy stone walls and double-glazed windows. “I always look forward to arriving here, to see how Marcie has grown and to come to the best place in the world, this warm, soft bed with you next to me.” They were gently drifting off to sleep when something that had been niggling at the back of Leila’s mind finally made a connection.

“You know that white mark on the shoulder of the little pup that you saved?” she asked, getting a sleepy grunt in response. “It’s the same shape as one you that you have on your right shoulder blade. I thought that you’d somehow gotten that during the war.” Harold’s drift to unconsciousness came to a screeching halt, as his fatigued brain suddenly put two and two together.

“What mark? I can’t recall seeing any mark on my shoulder. But you have a mark like that on your right shoulder.”

“What are you talking about? I have no such thing on me!” Now awake, they summoned a Mage Light and a pair of reflective surfaces that they adjusted so that they could each verify that indeed, they both had them. They were faint and only about the size of their little fingernails, but were visible when they looked for them. “It can’t be a coincidence that we both have that same mark in the same place, and that the little pup has it too.”

“Maybe it’s the mark of the Goddess,” Harold mused as they stopped the spells and laid themselves back in bed and covered up. “I couldn’t go into details when I was telling Marcie about my remembering meeting the Goddess as I was making the final leg of my journey, but it was so intense that it was almost like a flashback.”

“Tell me more,” Leila purred, so he did, from the first encounter to saving the woman from sepsis, his other Healings, and finally his bedtime encounter with the Goddess, leaving out no salacious detail in a transparent attempt to get her hot. “How about you? When did you meet her?” He gently stroked her left breast, tracing a circle around her areola until she grabbed his hand and set it beside him.

“You evil man!” she hissed, glowering at his smirk. “The strange thing is that I had forgotten about it as well until you reminded me. I wonder why she would suppress our memories like that?”

“What memories, love of my life?” he asked, not allowing her to evade. She stuck her tongue out.

“Like with you, it started with what turned out to be a test. It was in late Spring of the year that we first met, when the birds were nesting. Another interesting coincidence. I had just left the house, on my way to a visit to someone who was suffering from a nasty bladder infection, when I noticed that a robin was twittering and flapping about. I looked in the lawn and saw a baby, too small to fly, which had somehow fallen from the nest, which was on a branch well above my head. The Mom bird dive-bombed me when I got too close, so I decided to Levitate the baby back into the nest, and was on my way. It turned out that my patient’s infection had migrated up to her kidneys, which required a fast action because she was also in danger of sepsis. I was able to cure her with the Bug Sweeper once I was able to identify the bug, and made a stop at the bakery for a quick snack because I was famished. She was waiting for me outside.

‘Leila Parsons?’ she asked in that same honey-sweet voice you were talking about.

‘Yes, that’s me,’ I replied. ‘You must be new in town. I don’t recognize you.’

‘Please call me Mary,’ she replied, and I smiled, nodded and started walking home through the other people on the street, with her beside me. ‘Thank you for taking the time to go to her [I’m not telling you her name] house and saving her. She’s a very good person and important to me.’

‘I’m glad that I was able to save her. I know her well and she is good. But how did you know?’

‘I like to keep track of all of the Healers in the area. You have been here for a few years now and are universally acclaimed as an excellent Healer, model citizen, and really nice person.’

‘Oh, thank you! It’s nice to know that. I love the work and know that I’m making a difference.’

‘You are, more than you know. You also passed my test,’ she said. We had reached my house at that point and she pointed up to the nest, where I could see one of the robins bringing back something for the babies in the nest. ‘You took a few moments from your rush call to stop and help the baby bird. Public opinion is correct.’ I had stopped to look up the nest, but when I looked to where she had been, she wasn’t there. I was confused, and wondered if I had just been hallucinating because of the strain of Healing my patient. Another patient came up at that point and I forgot about it.”

“But that night, she paid you a visit in your bedroom?” Harold gently stroked her hair, and she leaned her head into his hand.

“I had no idea that she was the Goddess when I’d first met her. I’d gotten into bed and was just drifting off to sleep, when suddenly she was standing there,” she pointed to a spot near the door. “The faint golden glow around her was a pretty obvious clue that I was dealing with something unusual. I was surprised, but not frightened.

‘Hello,’ was all that I could think of saying, ‘Are you the Goddess? For real?’

‘Hello, Leila,’ she replied in that wonderful voice of hers. ‘Yes, I am the Goddess, and for real. I look after the people in this area, and the Healers are my most important agents, whether Mage or non-Mage. I spend a lot of time walking and my muscles get stiff and sore. Would you help me loosen up a bit?’

‘Of course, Goddess,’ I replied, sitting up. And in case you’re wondering, for whatever reason, I can remember this very clearly. ‘Please sit on the edge of the bed and I’ll see what I can do for you.’ I had gone to bed naked, like I usually do, but exposing myself to her seemed perfectly natural. She removed her top and, after a pause, also removed her pants and underwear, and her body was glorious to behold. She turned, giving me a nice view of her ass, and sat on the edge of my bed, right there. Her neck and shoulders really needed work, and it took about ten minutes and lots of little finger sparks to get them into a reasonable state. I could tell it was working from the little moans and grunts she was making.

‘Even a Goddess needs a massage now and then,’ she said. ‘Healers must get excellent training.’

‘And lots of practice,’ I said. ‘The positive psychological effects of a massage in relieving tension are well-documented. Should I continue with your back?’

‘Please do. Let me lie down.’ So, she laid herself down where I am now and I got up on my knees where you are and started working on it. What a mess she was in! I kept on going and gave that perfect ass a good kneading once I’d fixed up her back. The glow around her seemed to get a little brighter on areas that I’d worked on.”