Familiar scents permeated Brock's nostrils. He always found his nose had a better memory than his eyes.
“I don't understand. I'm almost home and you are going to Kareem's without me. Where am I going? Can't I come with you?”
“You will go to Karman's house. She has much to teach you in my absence.”
“Oh!”
“Don't be so downcast. Karman is a lovely, intelligent lady, and I know you like her.”
“I do. I was just surprised, that's all. How long will you be away?”
“Several months.”
“That's a long time,” Brock said in surprise. “Where will we go when you return?”
“We are not even there yet and you are planning to leave. Be patient young elf, and life will unfold for you.”
As they travelled the distance to Karman's house, Brock recalled the different feelings and events that were experienced when he had first travelled along the way. He had plenty of time for reflection because the going was easy and Zebulon had once more retired inwards to his own thoughts. As much as Brock now knew the wizard and understood him better, he did not have an understanding of his pain. But he did respect his need for retiring into his own thoughts.
Karmen welcomed them with a warm embrace. It was late in the day and they were weary. She led them into the comfort of her home, gracefully setting some hot tea and tasty nourishment before them. Few words were spoken until they had eaten and relaxed.
Over the following weeks the returned travellers related their stories to Karman who listened intently, her large soft brown eyes taking in far more than the others realised. She shared in their enjoyable or funny experiences while having quiet compassion for their unfortunate ones. She observed the two, noting with satisfaction that her belief in Brock's potential had not been misplaced and that he had grown strong both physically and in character. In Zebulon she saw a return of the melancholy which had been part of him before they set out on their quest, and became aware that it was developing into a restlessness that would shortly demand action.
Over dinner one evening he announced his intention to leave the next day.
"Saniyah?" asked Karman.
"Not yet, I must visit with Kareem."
"Do you really have to be away so long?" asked Brock.
"Yes. I don't think Karman will have you for supper or change you into some monster in that time."
"May I visit my home?"
"You may if you wish, but I advise you not to yet. What do you think Karman?"
"It would be best to stay here. You could be distracted if you go and we will not accomplish the things that are needful," replied Karman.
"Then I will be content here." Brock wasn't sure what he was to learn under Karman's guidance but he held a great admiration for her and knew whatever she taught, would be worth learning.
"Good decision young lad," said Zebulon and patted him on the shoulder. Karman only smiled at the young elf.
Next morning as the time drew close for Zebulon’s departure, Brock felt a lump in his throat and his eyes had developed a nasty habit of misting over. As much as possible he kept his head turned away from the penetrating looks of the others. When Zebulon put his large hand at the back of his neck and brought Brock's head to rest on his chest it was nearly his undoing, for he felt a sob wanting to burst from his throat. This is the bad wizard I didn't even want to go with he scolded himself in silence, but it helped little.
Zebulon observed the tremble in the elf's lips and said to him kindly, "You will be so busy I will be back before you know it."
Brock felt some sense of relief as he heard a slight break in Zebulon's voice. Karman will think we are a couple of babies he thought to himself. But the lovely lady said nothing, just wrapped her arms around him as Zebulon rode off and after a while guided him into her kitchen where she set about making them tea.
"What is Kareem like?" he asked over his second cup of tea.
"A beautiful person and noble. Both Zebulon and I studied under him."
"You learned magic too?" Brock asked in surprise.
"No, I learned about people. To have understanding and compassion. Kareem is not only a good magician but a wise man. Zebulon is great too and you are very fortunate to study under him. But he is not great in the way most people would think, because he has strong magic. No, he is great because he has depth and nobility in him."
"But he berates himself for his bad temper."
"Yes he does. A trait he must deal with. I didn't say he was perfect." Karman smiled with affection at her young charge.
Over the coming days Karman taught Brock about healing herbs and how to mix tinctures. Brock proved to be not only a willing student but a clever one. He learned quickly to identify the different herbs and their uses. His nose was his ally because he learned to recognise them not only by sight but by smell. Some offended his senses, but others delighted them and of those he would inhale deeply. He accompanied Karman sometimes when she went to the aid of the sick. He not only learned the healing capacity of the herbs but in a subtle way Karman taught him how to understand people and to read expressions.
Karman was serious and thorough as she instructed him, stressing the good and the bad of the herbs and of the dangers if used incorrectly. He began to understand the signs of some illnesses but he realised he would need much more study to have any great understanding.
It was not all work. Sometimes they would both go to the kitchen and cook so much food that it was more than they could eat and they would go visiting and take it to some of the poor or sick. They both liked to experiment and while some results were pleasing, for they both had a good sense of what foods and ingredients blended well together, they did have their share of disasters. This particular afternoon was one such time.
Brock was so overtaken with mirth that he laughed until it hurt. As soon as he dried his eyes and gained some composure he looked at Karman as she stood, her brow wrinkled in perplexity as she studied the obnoxious grey mass before her.
Her comment of: "Well that didn't go as expected." once more set Brock into convulsions of laughter.
Brock felt so at ease with this stately, elegant, intelligent lady. He felt he could tell her just about anything, not that he felt he could hide much anyway from that all knowing gaze. But she listened without hurtful judgement, giving advice only when asked for, and even then she encouraged her young student to figure out much of the problem for himself.
While he appreciated that she was a good person and very good long time friend of Zebulon, Brock knew he could not hope to have the same unique friendship as they shared.
She often counselled him and he, respecting her wisdom, took her counsel. It pleased him that he had earned some place of importance in her life. He realised too, that she had beauty which was under appreciated, especially by those who had a passing acquaintance with her, because her seriousness, her skills and her dedication often eclipsed her physical attractiveness. Brock realised it was the maturity of observation he had learned under exceptional tutors which enabled him to make that judgement. Gone was the lazy and self-centred elf he had once been.
Working beside her now as they cleaned up the mess, Brock, who still thought relevant thoughts, noticed with satisfaction that he was as tall as her, maybe even a bit taller. This pleased him because she was a tall lady and he could still remember the intimidation at their first meeting because she and Zebulon had made him feel very small and weak. He was still in awe that he was engaged in a simple domestic task with this special lady, who had at first seemed so aloof. Here in her home she adapted herself to her task, not minding if there was a smudge of flour on her cheek, or her hair somewhat ruffled.