Small Magics by Erik Buchanan Page B

scruffy beard and scrubbed at his body and hair until all of the dirt from the road was gone, then sat back in the large tub and soaked until the water turned tepid.
    After calling a quick good-bye and thanks to Magda and Lionel, Thomas followed his friends down the wooded lane to the town common and the fair. The sound of happy voices chattering and music playing floated through the air to call them forward.
    “Took you long enough,” complained George.
    “It’s been a long time since I had a proper bath,” said Thomas.
    “Aye, we noticed,” said Eileen, smiling to take the sting from the words. “You smell much better now.”
    Thomas smiled back. “I’m sure I do.”
    “So what do we want to do at the fair?” asked George. “There’s races and archery this morning.”
    “First, we make sure Timothy is all right,” said Thomas. “Then we should find the Reeve and tell him what happened. Is it still old Bluster?”
    “Aye,” George grinned. “It will probably make his day. He’s had nothing to deal with but the occasional tavern brawl for years.”
    Timothy was on his stage, looking none the worse for the night’s adventures and imbibing. He spotted them as they passed by and gave them a jaunty wave with one foot—he was standing on his hands—then flipped to his feet and bowed deeply. When he came up, he had three balls in his hands that he began juggling while reciting a rather bawdy poem.
    “He looks all right,” said Eileen.
    Thomas waved back. “Aye, he does.”
    “He’s fine,” George said. “Come on. Let’s find Bluster before Timothy there challenges Thomas to another round of riddles.”
    They left the juggler and quickly found Bluster sitting on a stool underneath a tree at the edge of the town commons. He was a thin man, of average height, in his later years. He had been appointed Town Reeve, in charge of maintaining order in the village, some thirty years ago by the Abbess. He had kept his position by keeping the peace firmly in hand. Nothing more than the occasional brawl disturbed the town, and those ended as soon as Bluster stepped into the room. He sat, smoking a pipe and looking for all the world as if he was ready for a nap. His eyes never strayed from the crowd, though. Thomas was certain that, if asked, Bluster would be able to tell them everything that had happened since he began his watch.
    “George, Eileen, and I believe Thomas,” said the Reeve, sitting up and smiling as they came close. He looked over Thomas, head to foot. “It has been a while since we’ve seen you around these parts, has it not, laddie?”
    “It has,” Thomas agreed.
    “I thought your father had packed you off to the city to keep you out of trouble.”
    “He did.”
    “And he’s allowed you to return, then?”
    More or less, Thomas thought, but before he could answer, George stepped forward. “Nay. I wrote Thomas and asked him to come back so we could have another go at rafting the mill stream.”
    Bluster snorted. “Wonderful. I’ll need a mighty big hook to pull you out of the water this time.” He turned his attention to Eileen. “You need to steer clear of these two. Why, this one—” he hooked a thumb in Thomas’s direction, “—has taken to carrying a sword, I hear. Where is it, by the way?”
    “At George’s house.”
    “Good thing, too. A silly city fashion, it is.” Bluster leaned back against the tree. “All right, you three, what did you come here for? I know you wouldn’t be talking to an old grump like me if you weren’t after something.”
    “We’re not after anything,” said Thomas, “but something happened last night we thought you should know about.”
    Bluster raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”
    “There were three men in the woods last night,” George said. “Strangers. They attacked Timothy.”
    “Timothy?”
    “The juggler,” explained Thomas.
    “They were going to kill him,” added Eileen.
    “And before you say it, I’ve grown