“Is that what happened to his foul breath! Ah, my hero!” Clasping her hands under her chin, she gazed at him. “What else. Hero of the People?”
“I spelled a wart off a finger. Ten coppers! Accepted a sack of decent wine for still another head of silver hair. I think it was more than she could afford, at age thirty. A woman asked me to cast a spell on her neighbor, who is after her husband. Third request for punitive spells this week. I refuse them all. The very next client asked me to make her more attractive to her husband. See the difference in the minds of the two individuals? I told her she would be, as soon as she gets him to come to me. The spell, you see, needs to be on him, so that he perceives her as more attractive!”
“How lovely! You might put one on a certain man for me,” she said, tracing a finger idly along his forearm.
“If you were more attractive no one in Sanctuary could stand it,” he said, and rushed on before she could say what he did not want to hear. “This is interesting. The man and the woman came together. Their neighbor’s dog barks every night and disturbs their sleep and that of their infant. He said he wanted the dog dead and I told him no. He came back with almost a command: ‘At least punish my neighbor! The swine sleeps right through that beast’s noise!'” Strick sighed. “That was tempting!”
“I should think so! Sounds like justice to me,” Esaria said.
“True. But it’s beyond what I will do. When he settled down and she begged for any sort of relief, I promised that the dog would not bother their sleep again.”