{"id":976,"date":"2014-06-08T11:15:51","date_gmt":"2014-06-07T23:15:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/?page_id=976"},"modified":"2014-06-08T11:15:51","modified_gmt":"2014-06-07T23:15:51","slug":"sample-hope-and-the-patient-man","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/sample-hope-and-the-patient-man\/","title":{"rendered":"Sample: Hope and the Patient Man"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"HopePatientMan-rev72-1024h\"<\/a>They\u2019d had a delicious dinner at one of the more expensive Gulfport restaurants, and shared a bottle of excellent wine. Judging by the way Hope was walking, it was more wine than she usually indulged in. She took Patient\u2019s right arm and stumbled against him, laughing.
\n\u201cCareful,\u201d he said, flinging out his walking stick to keep himself from falling, and mentally cursing his weak leg. The carved dragon head of his stick dug into his hand as he used it to lever his weight, and Hope\u2019s, to the right.
\n\u201cSorry. It\u2019s these shoes.\u201d Her own footwear mostly had steel toes, so she had borrowed a pair of shoes for the evening from her best friend and flatmate Briar.
\n\u201cI thought it was the wine.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd the wine. Shoes and wine, Briar\u2019s two favourite things. What are your favourite things, Patient?\u201d She laughed again. He would almost say she giggled, except that Hope didn\u2019t giggle. Her large dark eyes met his with an unguardedness that he hadn\u2019t seen before. Pale as she was from working indoors, her flushed cheeks brought her back to a more usual skin tone, and her black hair, gleaming and herb-scented, fell across one side of her face. She blew it away and laughed again, and his heart contracted sharply. He was still not used to the idea that such a beautiful woman wanted to spend time with him.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t think you should get on that airhorse,\u201d he said.
\n\u201cNo? You\u2019re probably right. But how\u2019m I going to get home?\u201d She stretched out the last word, crooning it.
\n\u201cYou could stay in town here and go home in the morning. Probably not much more expensive than a ferry back to Illene, then a ferry back here again to get the airhorse.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd how\u2019re you going to get home?\u201d
\n\u201cI could take the ferry, I suppose, and walk.\u201d Patient\u2019s home in Redbridge, a village not far north of Gulfport, lay near the river that also ran through the city and through the university town of Illene, where Hope lived. Even with his leg, he could walk between the ferry dock and his cottage without much discomfort.
\n\u201cOr you could stay in town too. Should we get one room, or two?\u201d
\n\u201cNow I know you\u2019re drunk. Which means that the answer\u2019s two.\u201d
\n\u201cOh, come on,\u201d she said playfully, and swung around in front of him on the pavement, seizing both his forearms. \u201cWe\u2019ve had a nice night. Let\u2019s live a little.\u201d She slid her hands up his arms to the shoulders, stepped in, and raised her face to his. Startled, he let the kiss begin.
\nShe screamed, convulsed, and collapsed. He staggered as he grabbed for her, trying to keep her from falling, but his weak leg folded under him and they both stumbled to the ground. Her head struck the stone kerb and rebounded.
\n\u201cHope!\u201d he shouted. She was whimpering and twitching in some kind of fit.
\nHe heard running footsteps from behind him as he tried to keep her head from impacting the hard surface a second time. They hadn\u2019t walked far from the restaurant, less than a block, and he recognised the doorman as the man leaned over them.
\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d he asked. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d
\n\u201cNot sure,\u201d said Patient. \u201cSome kind of fit. Help me get her safe, put\u2026\u201d but the doorman was already whipping off his jacket and wadding it up to put under her head. They got her stretched out and waited for the fit to be over, Patient pulling himself round to sit with her head in his lap while the doorman crouched next to her shoulder. Patient\u2019s leg had woken up and was proclaiming its tale of woe, but he ignored it.
\nAfter what seemed like much longer than it probably was, Hope gave a gasp and her eyes came back into focus. She made gagging movements, and he rolled her quickly onto her side, whereupon she threw up a gourmet meal and half a bottle of expensive wine onto his new trousers.
\nWhen the vomiting was over and her breathing had settled down, she tried to get up, and he helped her as best he could. The doorman was more help; he had leverage, and heaved Hope to her feet.
\n\u201cAre you all right, Mage?\u201d he asked. The silver bracelet on her left wrist, proclaiming her status as a full mage, glittered under the street lights, and the gems set in it sparkled. She nodded mutely, clutching her head.
\nPatient had reclaimed his stick, and was trying to regain his feet. He nearly slipped in the puddle of vomit before the doorman, still propping Hope up with one arm, heaved him upright with the other.
\n\u201cThanks,\u201d he said, trying to ignore the unpleasant dampness seeping through his trouser leg.
\n\u201cSorry,\u201d said a still drunk-sounding Hope. She gently disengaged from the doorman and stood, a little shakily, on her own feet.
\n\u201cWhat was that?\u201d he asked.
\n\u201cOathconflict, I think,\u201d she said. \u201cCurse it.\u201d Her voice came out toneless and dull, unlike her usual rich mezzo.
\n\u201cWell, I think that answers the question of whether you go home tonight,\u201d he said. \u201cThe answer\u2019s no. Where can we find a hotel?\u201d he asked the doorman.
\n\u201cJust round the corner,\u201d said the man. \u201cYou want me to walk with you?\u201d
\n\u201cStone?\u201d called a man\u2019s voice from behind them. \u201cEverything all right?\u201d
\n\u201cThe lady and gentleman had a fall,\u201d the doorman called back. \u201cI\u2019m just going to take them round to the Peerless. Can you watch the door?\u201d
\n\u201cAll right,\u201d called the voice.
\n\u201cThe Peerless?\u201d said Patient, a little nervously. \u201cThat sounds expensive.\u201d The doorman looked puzzled, as far as Patient could tell under the dim lighting, and rightly so. The restaurant they had just come out of was hardly Fat Berry\u2019s Fry Shack, and if you could afford to eat there, you could afford to stay at the Peerless. He thought of explaining that their meal had been paid for by Realmgold Victory.
\n\u201cDon\u2019t worry about it,\u201d said Hope in a shaky voice. \u201cI can cover it.\u201d
\nPatient opened his mouth to argue, decided that it wasn\u2019t the time, and shut it again. He and the doorman began to help her down the street, one on each side. She walked like a woman with three times her not-quite-twenty-four years, but they turned the corner at last, and Stone the doorman called to his counterpart at the front of the Peerless.
\n\u201cHey, Willing! Come and give us a hand, mate.\u201d
\nThe other doorman hurried over, and helped Hope into the reception area, where another uniformed hotel employee bustled round the desk in concern.
\n\u201cShould I send for a healer?\u201d she asked.
\n\u201cIf you would,\u201d said Patient quickly, before Hope could say no. Not that she looked as if she was going to. She even shot him a look of thanks.
\nThe receptionist rousted out a youth from the room behind the desk and sent him on the errand, while the two doormen seated Hope in a chair in the lobby.
\n\u201cThank you, Mister\u2026 Stone, is it?\u201d said Patient to the restaurant doorman.
\n\u201cMy pleasure to assist, sir,\u201d said the man. Patient dug in his pocket and found some coins. He gave him the two biggest pieces, equivalent to a quarter of a silver hammer, and Stone seemed happy enough.
\n\u201cI hope your lady\u2019s all right, sir,\u201d he said, and ran off to resume his duties round the corner.
\n\u201cSir, would you like us to assist you with your trousers?\u201d said the hotel doorman. The receptionist was fussing over Hope.
\n\u201cEh? Oh, yes, thank you,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd we\u2019ll need a room. Um, two rooms. No, better make it one room. I don\u2019t want to leave her unwatched.\u201d
\n\u201cAre you all right yourself, sir?\u201d
\n\u201cYes, yes, fine,\u201d he said. \u201cAn existing injury.\u201d
\n\u201cIn the war, sir?\u201d said the doorman. Patient looked up and caught a look that combined respect and pity.
\n\u201cYes,\u201d he said shortly. \u201cAs it happens. How far does the healer have to come?\u201d
\n\u201cNot far, sir, there\u2019s a healer just two blocks over, and he\u2019s contracted to the hotel. Did the lady have something that disagreed with her?\u201d
\nThere was a distinct tang of wine in among the vomit, and the doorman was clearly being tactful.
\n\u201cMore than that, I think,\u201d said Patient. \u201cShe\u2019s a mage, and she was involved in a kind of magical incident some years ago that has left her with\u2026 I suppose you\u2019d say a curse. It got triggered.\u201d His tone was curt, partly with worry for Hope, but mainly because it was none of the man\u2019s wretched business.
\n\u201cAh,\u201d said the doorman. \u201cWell, sir, if you\u2019re all right I\u2019ll go and watch for the healer, shall I?\u201d
\n\u201cPlease.\u201d
\nWith the doorman gone, Patient limped over to the chair and carefully lowered himself to one of the arms, trying to keep his spattered trouserleg well clear. \u201cHow are you doing?\u201d he asked, while going through a checklist in his mind. As a former part-time village warden, he had been trained to deal with emergencies, and he was trying to remember what you did for someone who\u2019d just had a fit.
\n\u201cThirsty,\u201d she said.
\n\u201cI\u2019ll get\u2026\u201d began the receptionist.
\n\u201cLet\u2019s wait for the healer,\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t think we should give her anything until he gets here.\u201d
\nBefore either woman could argue, brisk boot-heels rang on the marble of the foyer, and the healer arrived, the round hat of his profession askew and his coat and trousers pulled on over a nightshirt. The boy entered in his wake, and the receptionist made a curt gesture sending him back to his lurking place behind the desk, while hovering herself.
\nThe healer knelt and took Hope\u2019s wrist, reading the state of her body while asking, \u201cWhat\u2019s happened here, then?\u201d in a calm professional voice.
\nPatient fell into the rhythms of an incident report, giving an unemotional summary of events. He included the fact that Hope had had an oathconflict reaction, though he didn\u2019t go into the background. He wondered if he should, because not doing so risked the implication that she was oathbound to someone else and seeing him behind her oathmate\u2019s back, but decided that it was nobody else\u2019s business and he didn\u2019t care what they thought. The healer, who hadn\u2019t previously looked at him, shot him a sharp glance, flicked his gaze briefly at the stick, and nodded, without apparent hostility. He touched the side of Hope\u2019s head where it had met the stone kerb. The skin was unbroken, but reddened, and she winced away. He closed his eyes to concentrate, sensing underneath the skin.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s a bit of bleeding under there,\u201d he noted. \u201cNot a lot, but enough to be of concern. Merriment,\u201d he called to the receptionist, \u201csend your boy for a cab, will you? We need to get her into the healing house overnight.\u201d
\n\u201cOh,\u201d said Patient.
\n\u201cSorry, sir,\u201d said the healer. \u201cNot something to take lightly, a head injury. I\u2019d deal with it myself if it was most other things, but head trauma wants a specialist. I\u2019m afraid your evening is rather ruined.\u201d
\nPatient smiled grimly. \u201cThank you,\u201d he said.
\nWhile they waited for the cab to come, he leaned down awkwardly next to Hope. \u201cI hate to mention this,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I don\u2019t have enough money to tip all these nice people, pay the healer, and pay the cab.\u201d
\nShe fished out a purse and handed it over.
\n\u201cThank you,\u201d he said again, and circulated, handing over money to the boy, the receptionist, the healer (rather a larger amount) and the doorman.
\n\u201cOh! Your trousers, sir,\u201d said the receptionist. \u201cThe cabbie won\u2019t let you in like that, I\u2019m afraid, or he\u2019ll charge you extra. I\u2019ll see if I can find you a pair. What\u2019s your waist size?\u201d
\nPatient told her, and by the time the cab arrived he was in a pair of the hotel\u2019s uniform trousers which were attempting to cut him in half, the closest pair the receptionist had been able to find, and she had taken his away to be cleaned. He made arrangements to pick them up next day and slipped her more copper.
\nHe had never, he reflected, spent so much money on what was supposed to be a free evening, a reward for Hope from the Realmgold for working so hard last year. He returned to her side in time to help her to the cab. The cabbie looked at him oddly when he got in, with his stick and his too-small trousers, and again when he paid from Hope\u2019s obviously feminine purse, but he was well beyond caring. He had fallen into the mentally distanced state that they taught in the military and that he had held onto through much of the war \u2014 especially the part after his injury. It allowed him to move on to the next thing that needed doing, and put off anger, fear and frustration until later.
\nThe night staff at the healing house were quietly efficient, and a young healer came and sat beside Hope in one of the tiny treatment rooms, using her gift of Invisible Touch to stop the bleeding inside Hope\u2019s head and ease the pressure. Patient leaned against the wall, giving them as much space as he could manage. He shifted his stick uncomfortably, trying to ease his throbbing leg.
\n\u201cAll right,\u201d said the healer eventually. \u201cI\u2019ve done as much as I can for now. Let\u2019s get you to bed.\u201d Patient helped Hope walk along the gleamingly clean corridor in the impractical shoes. They helped her to a washroom to clean up, and Patient stood outside while the healer helped her change into a nightgown, then returned to assist with getting her into bed. She looked grey and exhausted.
\n\u201cI\u2019m going to give you the Healer\u2019s Sleep now,\u201d said the young woman, and worked a spell with the confidence of someone who performed it multiple times a day. Hope\u2019s strained face relaxed as her eyes closed, her breathing deepened, and she fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.
\n\u201cThat should hold her until well into tomorrow morning,\u201d said the healer. \u201cYou\u2019re her\u2026 what? Oathmate?\u201d She glanced at their hands, obviously checking for rings and, of course, not finding any. \u201cPromised?\u201d she amended.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re courting, then?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m her\u2026 friend,\u201d he said. This, at least, was true. He wasn\u2019t sure what else they were.
\n\u201cWould you mind staying the night with her?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ll insist on it.\u201d
\n\u201cAll right, let\u2019s set you up with a pallet. You\u2019re injured?\u201d
\n\u201cI got a knock to my bad leg,\u201d he said, \u201cbut nothing new.\u201d
\n\u201cLet me take a look.\u201d She sat him down in the corner and ran her hand over his leg above the borrowed trousers, eyes closed.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s been well cared for, considering what a nasty injury it must have been originally,\u201d she said. \u201cWas it the war?\u201d
\n\u201cYes,\u201d he said, in the tone he used to discourage people asking anything more.
\n\u201cHow\u2019s this?\u201d she said, and he felt the cramped muscles relax and the damaged flesh flooding with warmth, as if he was in one of the herbal baths his local healer made him take. His pain eased.
\n\u201cOh, that\u2019s helping,\u201d he said.
\n\u201cGood. I\u2019ll send someone in to do your pallet. Do you think you can get to sleep?\u201d
\n\u201cYes, I should be all right.\u201d
\n\u201cGood. I don\u2019t want to give you the Sleep, because having you in here with her and able to wake up is an extra safety measure. Not that I think anything will happen overnight, but just in case. Someone will be with you very soon.\u201d
\nOf course, with the best of intentions, it was actually some time before one of the healers\u2019 assistants came in with a pallet for him, and he was able to take off the terrible trousers and fall onto it. Whereupon he lay awake late into the night, listening for any shift in Hope\u2019s breathing.
\nShe was still breathing steadily when he finally drifted off in the deep hours of the early morning.<\/p>\n

Hope woke in broad daylight. This wasn\u2019t unusual in itself, since she often worked late to accommodate the erratic schedule of her eccentric boss, the Realmgold\u2019s clever man. She immediately knew, though, that she wasn\u2019t at home, and looked around to find herself in an unfamiliar room with Patient asleep on a pallet on the floor. She looked down at herself and found a strange nightgown. Her head pounded.
\n\u201cWhat happened last night?\u201d she muttered. At that, Patient stirred and came blearily awake, running his big carver\u2019s hands over his face. She repeated her question aloud.
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t remember?\u201d
\nShe shook her head, and clutched it as the pain spiked. His expression firmed into concern, and he went to leave his blankets, reconsidered, and called out, \u201cIs anyone out there? Hello?\u201d
\nThere was no answer, and he searched around his pallet, found a pair of dark-blue trousers, and pulled them on under the blankets before standing up and ringing a bell beside her bed. The trousers were too small for him.
\n\u201cWeren\u2019t you wearing green trousers last night?\u201d she asked.
\n\u201cYou really don\u2019t remember, do you? What\u2019s the last thing you recall?\u201d he said, just as a young man in the uniform of a healer\u2019s assistant opened the door.
\n\u201cAh, you\u2019re awake, Mage,\u201d he said, and took her wrist, checking her physical state. \u201cHow\u2019s the head?\u201d
\n\u201cHurts.\u201d
\n\u201cConstant, or pounding?\u201d
\n\u201cPounding.\u201d
\n\u201cHmm.\u201d He dropped her wrist. \u201cI need to fetch the duty healer. Won\u2019t be long.\u201d He hurried out again.
\nPatient was looking uncomfortable. \u201cExcuse me,\u201d he said, \u201cI need the lavatory. Do you\u2026?\u201d
\n\u201cYes, but it\u2019s not urgent. You go.\u201d
\nHe left the room too, and she slumped back into the bed. She had never been in a healing house before, but she assumed that was where she was. Looking round, she saw a plain, functional room, clean, with pale surfaces and no ornamentation. The crisp linen on the bed weighed heavily on her weak limbs.
\nWhat had happened to put her in a healing house? And why did her head hurt?
\nPatient came back from the lavatory, and she asked him to help her there too, overriding his protests that he wasn\u2019t sure she should get up. She leaned on him, with his right arm around her, his other hand occupied with his cane. Rather than embarrass him, she managed to sit down and stand up without him present.
\nDuly relieved and back in bed, she said, \u201cNow. Tell me about last night.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat do you remember? Do you remember leaving the restaurant?\u201d
\n\u201cI think so.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019d had a lot to drink. You tried to kiss me.\u201d
\n\u201cKiss you? I had had a lot to drink, then.\u201d
\n\u201cThanks.\u201d
\n\u201cOh, sorry. You know what I mean.\u201d
\n\u201cThe curse, yes. Well, it triggered, and sent you into some kind of fit.\u201d He looked down, shamefaced. \u201cI couldn\u2019t hold you up. My leg\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cOh, Patient. Not your fault.\u201d
\n\u201cWell, it cursed well feels like my fault. Can\u2019t even catch you when you\u2019re falling,\u201d he spat out, still not looking at her.
\n\u201cPatient, it\u2019s all right.\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s not. You hit your head on the ground. Your head, Hope.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m sure I\u2019ll be fine,\u201d she said. She didn\u2019t feel fine. She felt like she\u2019d been shoved head-first through a knothole, with paddles. But she knew how much he hated the limitations his injury placed on him.
\nThe door opened, and a brisk middle-aged healer strode in, followed by the assistant they had seen earlier. He introduced himself \u2014 she instantly forgot his name \u2014 and medical examination commenced, the healer touching his hand gently to the tender area on the left side of her head and asking her a sequence of questions. Patient volunteered the information that she couldn\u2019t remember anything from the time of her fit the previous night.
\n\u201cAnd this is a long-standing issue? Some sort of mindmagic?\u201d asked the healer.
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cHave you sought treatment?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been meaning to, but with my job\u2026 it\u2019s difficult to\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cSo no. All right.\u201d He dropped his hand to his lap. \u201cThe good news is that the damage was minimal, we caught it quickly, and Healer Delight did an excellent job of fixing it up last night. You\u2019ll have headaches for a little while, though. I\u2019ll give you an amulet for them before you leave. You\u2019ll want to get some willow tea, as well. If you start getting any other symptoms, like nausea, or dizziness, confusion, vision or hearing problems, or if the headaches get worse, contact a healer immediately. You\u2019re resident in Illene?\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s right.\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know any mindhealers there to recommend for you, unfortunately, but I\u2019m sure you can find one, and I urge you to do so. These things shouldn\u2019t be left untreated. Do the two of you live close to each other?\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Patient. \u201cI live in Redbridge.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re in regular contact?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cMake sure you check up on her and make her go to the mindhealer.\u201d
\nPatient nodded, meeting her eye with a determined expression that said: I don\u2019t usually try to make you do anything, but this is an exception.
\n\u201cCan I go back to work?\u201d she asked. She was half hoping for the answer \u201cno\u201d, the way she felt, but she couldn\u2019t stay away for long.
\n\u201cNot for a few days, at least,\u201d said the healer. \u201cTake it gently. You\u2019ve had a nasty knock to your brain. Don\u2019t try to do magic with it until you feel up to it. Do you need a letter for your employer?\u201d
\nShe shook her head, very gently so as not to dislodge anything. Her boss, Dignified Printer, would accept her word without question.
\n\u201cAll right. Let\u2019s get you that headache amulet, and get you dressed. How did you come here?\u201d
\nShe looked helplessly at Patient.
\n\u201cIn a cab. But we have an airhorse which is hopefully still around the corner from the restaurant.\u201d
\n\u201cYours?\u201d the healer said to him, with interest.
\n\u201cMine,\u201d said Hope.
\n\u201cWell, your friend will have to drive it. I wouldn\u2019t let you control an ordinary horse at the moment, much less one of those contraptions.\u201d
\nThey exchanged a look of consternation. \u201cWe\u2019ll work something out,\u201d said Patient. After his moment of frustration over not being able to save her the previous night, he had fallen back into his competent persona, the one she thought of as the Warden.
\nGetting Hope dressed, trying several different amulets until they found a pair that together suppressed the headache, hanging the carved bone tubes on a piece of wire that Hope could clasp around her neck, and the various discharge formalities took, it seemed, half of the remainder of the morning, and they finally took a cab to a hotel near the restaurant. Patient reclaimed his trousers, much to his obvious relief, and they walked a short distance to where they had left the airhorse. The usual cluster of onlookers had formed around the machine, skewed towards male street youth, but representing all ages, both genders and a cross-section of society.
\n\u201cHow hard is it to drive?\u201d asked Patient out of the corner of his mouth as they approached.
\n\u201cNot that hard,\u201d she said. \u201cI mastered it almost immediately. You squeeze the right lever to go faster, the left lever to brake, and steer with the handles. That\u2019s all you need to know.\u201d
\n\u201cI hope you\u2019re right,\u201d he muttered.
\nThey politely, all things considered, encouraged the crowd to stand back while Patient helped Hope onto the machine, a gleaming thing of red paint and polished brass. Extending from the hubs of each of the four wheels, pistons took the place of wheel spokes, each piston supporting one segment of the ground-contacting surface. A metal mesh held the segments together on the inside. This meant that the wheels could be adjusted to different road conditions, and gave a smoother ride than rigid cart-style wheels. A long red-leather seat accommodated two people astride the machine, with a running board on each side for their feet to rest on. Spreading brass handlebars held the control levers Hope had mentioned.
\nThey strapped on helmets, repurposed safety helmets from the manufactory where Hope worked, with noise-suppressing gauze hanging beneath them and gathered at the neck, and built-in eye protection.
\n\u201cCan you activate the gate?\u201d Hope asked.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cThe gate. Brings heat through from another space, which heats the water to make steam for the compressor.\u201d
\n\u201cI assume so,\u201d he said. \u201cHow much mageforce does it take?\u201d
\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t take much,\u201d she said. \u201cAbout the same as a modern oven.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ve never started one of those,\u201d he said.
\n\u201cJust touch the sigil and say the Dwarvish word.\u201d She pointed to the word for \u201cstart\u201d marked on a brass plate just behind the handlebars, with a sigil inscribed below it. He touched it and spoke. Nothing happened.
\n\u201cTry again,\u201d she said, \u201conly try not to put vowels in it.\u201d
\n\u201cTshk,\u201d he said. There was a small thunk, and a boiling noise began deep inside the machine.
\n\u201cGood,\u201d said Hope. \u201cNow, you don\u2019t have to wait for the boiler to come to pressure, there\u2019s a compressed-air tank already fully charged. Just pull on the throttle when you\u2019re ready. Clear out of the way, please!\u201d she added, raising her still-croaky voice. The crowd pulled back onto the pavement.
\nPatient, muttering quietly under his breath, pulled in the throttle lever and the airhorse jerked forward, propelled by twin compressed-air motors that drove the back wheels.
\n\u201cSmooth pull,\u201d she said.
\nThe muttering stopped as he concentrated, and they began to move off more smoothly, accelerating rapidly to a fast walking pace. They turned the first corner, veering back and forth in erratic arcs until he got the hang of the steering and startling a nearby horse. The rider shouted an epithet at them.
\n\u201cKeep it fairly slow until we get out into the country,\u201d she said. \u201cEven then, we need to watch for horses.\u201d
\nHe didn\u2019t reply, but navigated them out of the city to the north.<\/p>\n\n

Buy Hope and the Patient Man here<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

They\u2019d had a delicious dinner at one of the more expensive Gulfport restaurants, and shared a bottle of excellent wine. Judging by the way Hope was walking, it was more wine than she usually indulged in. She took Patient\u2019s right … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"content-type":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0},"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/976"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=976"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/976\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":977,"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/976\/revisions\/977"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/csidemedia.com\/gryphonclerks\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=976"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}