Free Teleporter (a Hyllis family story #2) by Laurence Dahners Page B

do it himself. After he sat without trouble for a few minutes she declared him ready to stand. That he did do on his own.
    During this whole time, Tarc hadn’t really looked at his father who’d been standing motionlessly over by the bar. When he looked that way now, he saw that Daum appeared to be seethingly angry. Tarc walked over to him, “Do you think this might change Farley’s mind?”
    Almost through gritted teeth, Daum said, “I can’t believe Eva’s helping that son of a bitch after what he’s been trying to do to us. She’s always been too much of a do-gooder, but this time she’s gone a little far. She should have just let him die!”
    Tarc blinked a couple of times before he realized that Daum didn’t really understand what had just happened. “Um, Dad, I stopped the blood flow to part of his brain for a couple of minutes. He didn’t have a real stroke.” He paused then worried that Daum didn’t understand the rest of it either. “Mom didn’t really do anything for him. She just pretended to. He was going to get better anyway, as soon as I let the blood flow resume.”
    Daum had turned to look at Tarc, realization dawning on his face. Consternation warred with amazement for a moment; then Daum said, “Oh.” He glanced over at Farley, “If you’d kept holding back the blood flow, he would’ve had a permanent stroke wouldn’t he?”
    Tarc gave a little shrug, his own eyes going to Farley. “I think so, yeah.”
    “Jesus!” Daum whispered.
     
    A subdued Farley eventually left the tavern. On his way out, he stopped at the door and dug in his pocket. “Thank you for saving my life,” he said pulling out a gold coin and handing it to Eva. He looked at Daum who still stood on the other side of the room staring stonily at him. “Tell your husband I apologize for my actions. My offer for your tavern still stands. If you don’t get a better one, you can take advantage of it so that you don’t leave town without anything. The way sentiment is here in town, I don’t think you’ll want to stay, even though I will no longer support any efforts to force you to leave.”
    After he was gone, Eva stared at the gold coin for a long time. Eventually Tarc said, “Do you think it’s a counterfeit?”
    “No,” she whispered, “I think it’s an ‘ill-gotten gain.’”
    After a pause, Tarc said quietly, “Well then, the next time you provide free care for someone who can’t afford it, think of it as working off that gold coin.”
    Eva looked up at him for a moment, then said, “Sometimes you know just the right things to say.”
    Tarc shrugged, embarrassed. He wandered away to check on the status of his chores.
     
    ***
     
    Once Tarc had topped up the wood racks and filled the water barrels and tanks, he headed out to the stable. As he approached, he heard wood banging together. Inside, he wasn’t surprised to find several of the guards practicing with wooden practice swords. He kept a surreptitious eye on their impromptu bouts, while he checked on old Shogun and those of the caravaners’ horses which were stabled in there.
    There were three of them in the stable, all larger than average. Not as big as the two guards who’d come with Farley, but they looked much more fit.
    While two of them went at each other with small shields and practice swords, the other one turned to Tarc. “You want to give it a go?”
    Tarc started and looked at him wide-eyed, “Oh, no! I’ve only had a little training. I’m not much good.” In fact, he thought to himself , I’m pitiful compared to these guys.
    The guy grunted, “Somebody said you guys might be going with us on the caravan.”
    Tarc nodded uncertainly.
    “Well, then you need to get good with a sword. If the caravan is attacked, the guards do what they can, but everyone needs to be ready to do their part.”
    “Um,” was all that Tarc managed in response to this admonition. The man held a practice sword out to him and he took it.
    “My