Fifer just laughs as he and Miko go and get cleaned up. James follows them and they’re soon sitting at the table having their dinner.
James tells everyone about the meeting with the town council and he hears angry muttering from the ones who’ve been standing out at the road keeping everyone away. “It’s bad enough now,” Jorry says. “Today alone I had to turn away at least seven people, some took it okay. Others got downright angry at not being able to talk to you.”
“What do they want?” he asks.
“Most won’t tell me, others are just stupid things,” he replies. “One woman wanted you to remove a wart and another is sure that someone has put a curse on him.”
“A curse?” asks Illan, amused.
“Yes, a curse,” replies Jorry. “He claims that his continued losing at cards is due to a curse. I told him it’s probably just that he’s no good. He didn’t like that and told me so in not very friendly words.”
“I’m sorry you guys have to put up with that,” he says. “Maybe when the word spreads that I don’t see anyone, then they’ll go away.”
“I hope so,” Jorry sighs. “If not, I’d like a shack or something out there we can relax in. Now’s not too bad, but in the winter, it could get bad out there.”
They eat in silence for a while, each digesting what’s been said. Suddenly from outside, they hear the sound of wagons rolling toward the house. Uther gets up and goes out to the front room and shortly his voice can be heard as he says, “Delia’s back.”
Jiron gets up and hurries out, Tersa right behind.
James finishes another bite and then says to Ezra as he indicates his plate, “I’m not finished yet.” Then he gets up and goes out to meet them as well. He finds Delia and Tersa giving each other a hug in welcome. Shorty is getting down from where he’d been driving the wagon and Scar, Potbelly and Stig are dismounting from their horses.
“I told you we’d make it here by dark!” he can hear Potbelly say to Scar.
“Alright, here,” Scar says as he hands over several coins.
“How’s the trading business?” James asks Delia when he approaches.
“Not as good as I’d hoped,” she tells him. “But I’m just starting out and have no contacts. Few will trust me with their loads, but give me time and I’ll win them over.”
“I’m sure you will,” he says. “We’ve just sat down to dinner. You’re welcome to share with us.”
“That’s okay,” she says. “I doubt if Ezra had planned on so many, we’ll just eat our own food tonight. Though tomorrow morning we’ll take advantage of her cooking before we set out.”
“Leaving so soon?” he asks.
“Afraid so,” she tells him. “The merchant we dropped the shipment off to in Wurt has commissioned another one to Bearn. And of course it needs to be there yesterday so we haven’t any time to dally.”
“I understand,” he says sympathetically. “The customer comes first.”
“At least now that I’m trying to make a name for myself,” she says.
“Thanks for sending Shorty with the letter and the crystals,” he says.
“You’re welcome,” she replies. “I knew you were looking for them and there was no need for you to wait because of some impatient merchant.”
“I appreciate that,” he says. “I know you’ve got things to do, so come on in once everything gets settled.”
“I will,” she tells him.
He hears Jiron and Tersa catching up on things with Stig and the others as he walks back to the house. When he enters the kitchen, Ezra looks to him with a slightly strained expression. “Don’t worry,” he says, “they’re not coming to dinner.”
“We might have enough,” she says as the tension begins to leave her.
Shaking his head, he tells her, “Delia knows you haven’t planned for them and doesn’t want to drop in at the last minute with so many mouths. She said they’ll fix their own but will be looking forward to some of your cooking before they pull out in the morning.”
Relief now evident on her face, she nods and says, “They’ll not be disappointed.”
Next to her, Roland pats her on the hand and says, “I’m sure they won’t be.”
James sits back down and finishes his meal. Jiron and Tersa never make it back in by the time he’s done and Ezra is ready to clear the table. He tells her to go ahead, that they’ll not likely be back to finish.
He goes out to the front room and sits in his favorite chair by the window as he watches them finish getting the horses and wagons set for the night. Roland comes in and builds a fire in the fireplace in anticipation of the cool of evening. Even though it gets hot here in the day, after the sun goes down, it tends to get a little bit of a chill in the air.
Outside, he can hear Jiron telling them about the attack last night. Delia has her guards rotate watch around the wagons in case of a similar event tonight. When all is settled in, they break out their rations and have a quick meal while the sun makes its final descent to the horizon. By the time they’re done eating, it’s dipped below and the stars have begun to appear.
Delia, Jiron and Tersa come over to the house when they’re done eating, he notices Jiron is carrying a small box. “Sitting by yourself again?” Delia asks him as she enters through the door.
“It’s peaceful,” he tells her with a grin. Nodding his head to Jiron, he asks, “What’s in the box?”
She reaches for the box and Jiron hands it to her. “On the road I got to thinking about your shaving kit and the knife you used to use,” she says to him. She opens the box and pulls out a knife, similar to the one he had used. “I was thinking that if you could do that with others, maybe we could sell them.”
“Who would want them?” he asks.
“Any barber out there,” she explains. “Also, those with sheep that need shearing may want them as well.” She looks to him expectantly.
“It’s not a matter of if I can,” he tells her. “But if I will.”
“What do you mean?” she asks. “I know you’ve been wondering how to raise money for this place, having so many to care for isn’t going to be cheap. And the money you already have won’t last forever.”
He starts to responds when Jiron jumps in. “You’re worried about people finding out, right?” he asks.
“Exactly,” he says. “If I started doing this, there’s no end to the number of people that would flock here. Each wanting me to make them something that they ‘desperately’ had to have.”
“I understand your concern,” Delia says. “I don’t plan on telling anyone where I got them. Your secret is safe with me.”
He sits there considering it while they wait expectantly. “If I do this, you must swear to never tell anyone where you got them,” he insists.
“I swear it!” she says.
“How many do you have?” he asks.
“Ten,” she replies.
Nodding, he holds his hand out for the box. “Understand that the magic that will enable them to work will come from the wielder. They have to be aware of that fact or they may get seriously hurt if they do it for a long period of time. If too much is drawn from them, they could become weakened, even die though I doubt if that is much of a possibility.”
“I understand,” she says, handing it to him.
One by one, he takes the knives out of the box and casts the spell on them that will allow them to cut hair but nothing else. When the spell has been set in the knife, he lays it on the side table next to his chair.
By the sixth knife, he’s beginning to feel the effects of doing so much magic. At the eighth he can barely focus enough to be able to cast it properly. When he finishes the eighth knife, he sags back in his chair “Eight’s going to have be it for now,” he says. “I can’t do anymore.”
She comes over and removes the final two he hasn’t enchanted yet from the box and sets in the eight that he has imbued with magic. “I’m sure this will do fine.” She looks at him and says, “You look like you could use some rest.”
“Yeah,” he says, “I do need to rest. I don’t think you understand just what that takes out of me.” He gets to his feet and begins to wobble. Jiron is right there and gives him a shoulder to lean on as he helps him to his
