I’ll have time to look into your condition if you want. I could try to cure you.”
“You can bring me back to life?”
“. . . no. I cannot do that. I can give you peace, maybe.”
Timmon sighed.
Benen and his ghostly victim made an agreement that Timmon would only speak to him when Benen was alone. For his part, Benen would endeavour to be alone a part of each night and also, he would look into what he could do for poor Timmon. Benen almost relished the challenge.
The happy couple did not stay in the headman’s house for long. After a few weeks, Benen spent some of his gold coins to have a house built. It would be a wooden house with a tin roof. Four bedrooms were planned as well as a laboratory, a study, and an observatory. Benen would have to acquire or make a telescope himself, as no one in the area had ever heard of such a thing.
Every time a peddler came to the village, Benen asked after books — especially magical ones — and a telescope. This way he gathered a small library over the years; the peddlers knew that Benen would buy any books they brought to the village, so they made sure to keep an eye out.
During this time, the wizard became a sort of wise man or witch doctor for the villagers. He would heal the injured and cure the sick, as well as perform other tasks the people could not manage themselves. For this, he received coins, and this work kept him and his wife quite comfortable.
For ten years he lived in the house he had built, with his wife, whom he loved more each day.
Their life together was almost perfect. He spent a lot of his time reading, working in the lab, and trying to cobble together a working telescope — when he wasn’t doing something for one of the villagers. She liked to cook and knit. This was good because Benen was not a very inventive chef and would always prepare the same dishes if left to it.
In the evenings, when possible, he read to her from a book. He’d acquired some novels specifically for reading to Sania and they cherished these times together.
The only thing that marred their relationship was their trouble having children.
It was not for lack of trying. The couple had bad luck conceiving and, on the few occasions when Sania was pregnant, she never brought the child further than the first trimester before losing the baby.
It was hard on the couple, but they got through it, and their patience was finally rewarded with a pregnancy that lasted well into the third trimester.
It was then that Benen received a visit from the elders of a village a week’s walk from his home.
This in itself was unusual. He sometimes had requests for his services from the nearby villages, but never from this far away. These elders were truly desperate. He met with them right away.
There were three of them and he sat with them in his study. They were very respectful, calling him Lord Wizard and bowing before taking their seats.
“Welcome,” he told them. “I do not often receive visitors from so far away. We can dispense with formalities and cut directly to the matter that brought you here. It must be a dire need to drive you to come all this way. How can I help you?”
“Thank you, Lord Wizard,” said one of the elders. He was a short old man with too much hair coming out of his too large ears. “I am Elder Rook. These are Kalder and Hurd.” The elders nodded as they were named. “The problem we have is . . .” The man trailed off. He did not seem to know how to proceed. He looked embarrassed.
The elder introduced as Hurd spoke up then. “It’s a wizard, Lord Wizard. Our problem is a wizard. Begging your pardon.” All three elders now looked embarrassed.
“Are you sure the wizard is to blame for whatever problem you’re having? Wizards are often made scape-goats for ill-luck or failed crops.”
“Yes sir, we are sure. The problem is the wizard himself.”
“Start from the beginning and tell me what exactly is happening.”
“This wizard, he isn’t like
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