Glad to be busy, Kazy pitched in hard to help Eva prepare the evening meal. When she didn’t have work to keep her mind busy, for instance when she was walking the day away beside the wagon, her mind wandered back to her family. Or worse, to the days she spent enslaved by the raiders.
Once they had the beans and the pork going, Kazy was able to spend time with Daussie, making toffee sweets for sale the next day.
So far her time as a member of Eva’s family had been much better than she’d expected. No one had tried to break her attachment to Daussie so far, or for that matter even commented on it. Each night she had managed to place her bedroll beside Daussie’s so she’d feel safe. Somehow Daussie seemed invincible to Kazy. Almost as if Daussie had killed or driven away the raiders, rather than whatever mystery group who had actually done it.
Kazy had even managed to spend some time away from Daussie. She’d nearly panicked the first time she’d been separated from her cousin. When they’d taken her to her farm to bury her family; she’d gone with only the Hyllis men and Lizeth. They’d all departed so quickly she hadn’t realized until they were underway that Daussie wasn’t coming. She’d done her best to hide it, but Kazy had felt like she was melting without Daussie. In fact, as they’d ridden away from Daussie, Kazy had buried her head in Lizeth’s shoulder and pretended that the girl guard was Daussie. Then the emotion of burying her family and saying goodbye to her home had overwhelmed the panic of being away from her liberator.
The desire to get back to Daussie had helped her leave the farm and her family’s graves as well.
Fewer people than usual ate at the Hyllises’ wagon that night. Kazy was serving beans while Eva sliced off pork for their customers and heard Eva ask one of them, “Where is everyone tonight?”
“First night in a new town,” the woman shrugged, “it’s always nice to get out and eat at a tavern that has something different than you get on the road. Besides, here in Denton’s crossing there’s a tavern famous for making pizza.” When Eva looked quizzical, the woman continued, “Pizza’s a thin, flat bread covered with cheese and other ingredients of your choice. It’s really good. Tonight I’m watching mine and the Ropers’ wagons, but I’ll probably go in for pizza tomorrow night when the Ropers’re watching our wagons. You should take your family and try it!”
“Oh! That sounds like fun. I’ll need to find someone to swap ‘wagon watching’ with myself.”
“Go! I can watch your wagon too!”
Eva smiled and said, “Well, thank you, maybe we will.”
Eva seemed more enthusiastic through the rest of the serving and when Daum came through to get his food, she said, “Nope, I’m not serving you. We’re going out!”
As Daussie had expected, Daum protested. They weren’t sure of their finances, they had a lot of leftover food they should be eating themselves, it was frivolous, etc.
Daussie desperately wanted to go out, but secretly agreed with Daum. However, Eva rode over his objections, “You worry too much! The leftover beans will taste even better tomorrow. Besides, we need to explore this town and learn about new foods we might serve the caravan or sell in the next town. This’s how we’re going to do it…” She poked him in the chest, “Besides we need a break!”
Once they’d served the caravan and broken down their serving line, the Hyllises headed for the gates into Denton’s Crossing. Though they tried not to show it, Kazy could tell they were all quite excited to be going out. As they walked towards the gate, they encountered Lizeth with Sam, one of the other guards. Lizeth smiled at them and said, “You lot look like you need some guarding as you head into the dangers of Denton’s Crossing.”
With a laugh, Daum said that indeed they did, as long as they could be guarded on the way to the tavern that had the pizza.
“Oh,” Lizeth said hopefully, “do you think you can figure out their recipe? It would be wonderful to have pizza occasionally on the road.”
“We can only try,” Eva laughed.
The tavern was packed, so crowded that the Hyllises had to wait for a while before they could even be seated. Daum didn’t want to wait, but Eva convinced him that the food in a place this crowded must be special.
Kazy thought the food Eva cooked for the caravan was amazing. Her family had not been particularly innovative cooks, boiling much of what they ate into stews. However, none of the Hyllises had ever had anything like pizza. Kazy had ordered a “sausage pizza” which proved to be a small round of flatbread covered with a tomato-based sauce and thinly sliced sausage with cheese melted over all of it.
It was wonderful, and the Hyllis family immediately began trying to figure out how they could make something like it. They decided that on the road, they’d have to bake the rounds of flatbread one night, then add the sausage, cheese, and tomato paste the next night, melting them quickly on the stove. This would fit their usual pattern of baking bread over the coals of the fire they’d used to make dinner.
Tarc wasn’t all that interested in just how the pizza had been made, but he did love the way it tasted. Sitting next to Lizeth was a decided bonus, though she and Sam had their heads together talking about something most of the time.
Tarc and Daum discussed the beer the tavern sold. They thought it had been watered and that the brewers had substituted some other starch, perhaps potato, for much of the barley.
Tarc got up and made his way to the back door of the tavern, following a sign indicating the location of the outhouse. Stepping out into the courtyard behind the tavern he looked around, then seeing the outhouses, started that way. After he’d done his business, he stepped back into the courtyard, but had only taken one step back toward the tavern when a large hand clamped over his face and jerked him backwards.
The thief from the ferry! flashed through Tarc’s mind. Sure enough, when he sent his ghost out it confirmed the man behind him was much the same size and shape as the man from the ferry. He couldn’t be sure it was the same man like he would have been with his eyes, but the man’s words confirmed it. He growled in Tarc’s ear, “Thought you got away with something this afternoon, didn’t you, you little shit?”
Tarc’s heart pounded in his chest. His first thought was to slow the flow in the man’s carotid again. But, if as he’d promised himself, he didn’t kill the man, the man would become highly suspicious over having gotten dizzy twice around the same victim. The next time the man might knife Tarc and rob him after.
While Tarc dithered, the man pulled Tarc’s work knife out of his thigh holster. “You stole my knife from me when I got dizzy this afternoon,” the man grated. “Now I’m taking your knife away from you in return.”
He put the point of Tarc’s knife against Tarc’s chest. Tarc realized he should have clamped the man’s carotid and to hell with the future!
Tarc’s thoughts were confirmed when the man snarled, “And, in case that was your doing this afternoon, first thing I’ll do if I start to feel a dizzy is sink this knife into your chest. Got that?”
Tarc nodded his head minutely under the pressure of the man’s hand while his mind desperately tried to think of something instantaneous to stop the man.
The man said, “Now I need a little bit more than your knife to make up for all the trouble you caused me. So I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth and look through your pockets for any other valuables you might have.” The man’s hand started to lift away, then pressed back over Tarc’s mouth, “You holler, you die.”
Tarc’s ghost reached out to the man’s upper spinal cord. With Tarc’s head so close to the man’s neck it was easy to stop the blood flow in the capillaries to the part of the spinal cord where the fifth nerve root came off. Since there aren’t any sensory nerves in the cord, the man didn’t feel anything happening.
Bork’s limbs turned to flaccid jelly and he began collapsing to the ground behind Tarc. Eyes wide and mind screaming, he wondered what was happening to him.
As Bork’s grip softened, the boy grabbed the wrist of Bork’s
knife hand and pushed it away from his chest. Despite the numbness, Bork faintly felt the kid pulling up on his wrist and slowing Bork’s fall to the ground. Bork didn’t understand—he’d threatened the kid’s life, yet it seemed like the boy was trying to keep Bork from banging his head on the ground?!
Bork couldn’t know Tarc had promised he wouldn’t kill.
He wouldn’t have believed it if he had.
The kid knelt over Bork and put his knife away. He said, “Yeah, I made you dizzy today. And now you know I can do even worse things.”
The man’s panicked eyes stared up at Tarc as he labored to breathe. The third and fourth spinal nerves supplied part of the diaphragm muscle necessary for the man’s breathing, so he could breathe. But, without the function of the fifth nerve, breathing was difficult. Besides, having his arms and legs paralyzed had to be horrible. Tarc thought the spinal cord would recover quickly, having only had its circulation cut off for a matter of seconds, but he didn’t know for sure.
“Can’t breathe,” the man gasped.
“Yes you can, you just can’t breathe very well,” Tarc said. He moved above the man’s shoulders, “I’ll help you breathe,” he said, pulling up on the man’s shoulders to help fill his lungs, “but I’m hoping you’re not planning to ever mess with me or my family again?” He pulled up on the man’s shoulders again.
The man’s neck muscles let him shake his head in wide eyed negation. “No!” the thief gasped on his next exhale.
Tarc pulled up on the man’s shoulders again, “Can you feel anything yet?”
The man shook his head again.
“Can you move anything?” Tarc sent his ghost into the man spinal cord. The blood flow was okay and the tissue didn’t seem different from the rest of the spinal cord, suggesting it wasn’t permanently injured. Tarc pulled up on the thief’s shoulders again.
The man’s fingers moved a little.
Tarc patted him on the shoulder, “Okay. You should keep getting better. I’m going to leave you here to ponder just how much worse this could have been.” He paused, then continued, “I’d suggest you get a job and stop stealing from people.” Tarc stood and started to walk away, but then turned and said, “And, you’ll remember not to mess with me or my family, right?”
Lying supine, wide-eyed, and helpless, the man nodded.
Before they left the tavern, Tarc stepped to the back door and looked out. The thief was gone. Hopefully recovered, not dragged off by someone even more despicable.
***
The next day, the Hyllises nervously set up in the market, all wondering whether they would actually make any sales or not. Daum gave out tiny samples of the moonshine he’d been making. The night before, when they’d broken up the sheets of toffee into sale sized pieces, they’d saved all the tiny fragments and they used those as samples too.
Once the stall was up and running, Tarc headed into town to find and buy supplies. He had plenty of experience with buying meats and groceries from his years doing it for the tavern. Kazy watched him go, then turned to Daussie, “Tarc’s going into town all by himself?”
Daussie nodded, setting pieces of toffee out on the leaves they were using as small disposable plates.
Kazy said, “Are you sure that’s safe?”
“Tarc can take care of himself,” Daussie said without looking up.
Kazy gazed after Tarc. He only had a work knife for a weapon. Sure, Tarc’s muscular, but could he really protect himself? She looked again at Daussie who seemed completely unconcerned, “Are you sure? I mean, this’s a strange town and you guys have just started out on the road, so he doesn’t have much experience with strangers. What if somebody tries to rob him?”
Daussie’s startlingly blue eyes lifted to watch her brother as he turned the corner and slipped out of sight. Her eyes crinkled in amusement as she glanced at Kazy. “He’ll be okay,” was all she said.
As the day passed, sales weren’t as bad as the Hyllises had feared, but they weren’t as good as they had hoped either. The toffee didn’t sell very well. Much more distressing though, only a few people even asked about healing. Those who did appeared highly dubious or even smirked over the thought that anyone would seek treatment from an itinerant healer. Even by late afternoon, not a single person had asked to be diagnosed or treated.
Eva especially felt depressed about their prospects for working as healers. She’d almost always had at least a few customers per day in Walterston. She turned to Daum and said, “We’re not going to be able to make this work as healers on the road are we?”
“Remember what Norton said. The caravan almost always travels the same route so eventually people will learn to trust us.”
“But Daum, how are they going to learn to trust us if we never treat a single patient!”
Daum gathered his wife in his arms, “Have some faith woman, have some faith.” Then, looking over her shoulder, he said, “Looks like we might have a customer for you right now.”
Eva wiped the tear which had formed in her eye and turned to see an old woman leaning heavily on a cane as she stepped up to their counter. Eva’s heart sunk to see the woman, and fell even further when the woman said irritably, “I suppose you have some magic elixir that’s supposed to cure my arthritis?”
Eva shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, but little can really be done for arthritis. Willow bark tea, willow bark poultices. I can sell you those, but I’m sure you probably already use them. They’ll help a little, but certainly won’t cure you.”
The woman appeared startled and somewhat taken aback. She cackled, “Really?! You aren’t intending to sell me an expensive potion, telling me it will work in about a week or so—after you’re gone?”
Eva frowned, feeling somewhat angry about what the woman’s question said of other traveling healers. “No, and I’m sorry if someone else has done that to you. We can treat some conditions, but there are many we can’t. I don’t sell false cures, and I think anyone trying to sell you something better than willow bark for your arthritis will be trying to cheat you.”
The old woman cackled again and slowly shuffled off to the next stall. Daum patted Eva gently on the shoulder, saying, “Don’t let it get you down. Just keep doing what’s right.”
As they were shutting down the stall for the night, the old woman stopped back by. “Let me see some of your willow bark. I suppose you sell special willow bark that works better than anyone else’s, right?”
Shaking her head, Eva pulled out a cloth wrapped bundle. “It isn’t special. We’ve cut away the outer bark so we only have to carry the more active inner layers. But that’s just so we don’t have to carry so much of it.”
The old woman barked a laugh, “So what do you treat?!”
Eva grinned at the crotchety woman, liking her somehow, “Well, we treat arthritis, but we don’t do anything really special for it. We sew up wounds and drain the pus out of infections. We can treat some chest or leg pains, or belly pains caused by stones.” She shrugged her shoulders, “We’ll do what we can for any disease, but we won’t sell you false hope. We don’t charge if we can’t help you.”
The woman stared at Eva for a moment, then a smile spread over her face. “An honest healer! Hah, I never thought I’d see the like!” She turned and shuffled slowly away.
That night for dinner they sold the left over black beans from the night before. They’d chopped the rest of the roast pork into the beans and it had made the beans into a rich and wonderful meal. To their dismay, this night they sold out early. They had thought sales would be light like they had been the first night in Denton’s Crossing, but apparently the caravaners didn’t want to go out every night. Henry Roper confided that prices in towns were usually higher than Eva’s. Besides, few of the taverns provided anything that could compare to Eva’s cooking.
Their sales of toffee and moonshine hadn’t been good enough to think they could make a living at it. Roper’s comment suggested they might want to sell something more substa
ntial from their stall as a lunch. After some thought, Eva put more beans on to simmer all night over the coals. Then they started baking bread and cookies.
For breakfast in the morning, they sold scrambled eggs, bacon, and slabs of warm buttered bread. They also sold hard-boiled eggs the caravaners could take with them to the market for lunch. They’d cooked a lot of bacon, and they chopped the leftovers into the spicy beans that had simmered overnight.
Shortly before noon, their stall started selling beans with bacon and a warm slab of bread. Butter could be had on the side. Kazy tasted a sample of the beans and they were wonderful. She thought sales would be good.
Word spread around the market and soon people crowded to the Hyllises’ stall for lunch. Caravaners formed a line early, eager to get some of the spicy black beans that had sold out so quickly the night before. The presence of the line told customers from Denton’s Crossing that the food at the booth was special. Once again they sold out of food long before they ran out of customers.
When business slowed down, Eva and Daum went into town to look for equipment that would let them cook larger quantities so they could keep up with demand.
Though the large number of customers resulted in a number of queries about healing, no one actually requested a diagnosis or a treatment. Daussie was the one horrified now. She turned to Tarc, “Are we just going to be cooks and distillers?!”
Tarc frowned at her, “Sales are good! It looks like we’re going to be able to support ourselves! How can you find a bleak side to such good news?”
Daussie’s expression drooped, “I want to be a healer… not a cook.”
Kazy said, “Most people think of cooking as a more respectable profession than healing. I’d count the passing of your healing business as no big loss.”
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