The truth is, Huri never really liked the supernatural, though she did not care that Jert was a Wizard. She still would not stop him from using magic, for in fact, he had used magic to help them start the farm.
"If you think it's for the best?" said his wife.
"I do," replied the former Wizard.
An uneasy silence had griped the room.
"Lord Drago... Sorry, is it Drago, or do you prefer Peter as your name?"
"Drago is fine," said the boy, now regaining his senses. Really, he did not know why he referred to himself as Peter to the Wizard-farmer and his wife. "And please leave out the lord part," he added.
"Well then, Drago, would you like to help me get the cart ready?" asked the Wizard.
"Really, Jert, this is your King, not a stable boy," said his wife to the surprise of her husband and the boy King. Neither had expected the woman to react this way to the boy; she was a Normal after all. However, she had seen something in the young hero that reminded her of her own son, and therefore she felt it her duty to look out for his interests.
"I don't mind," said Peter.
"Good. I wanted the chance to talk to you man to man so to speak," said Jert. The farmer went out first, and Peter gladly followed. They did not have to go far before they reached the shed that held the coach.
"So how heavy is this cart?" asked Peter.
"Oh, we don't have to worry about that," said the farmer. He held up his wand and waved it at the shed, and its doors flew open. The Wizard slowly brought the wand back and the cart came out. When it had passed the threshold, the man waved the wand again, and the shed doors closed. He then turned to the stables again. He waved the magical rod, and the stable doors were thrown open, and an old horse appeared. This time Peter was sure that was a horse, though it was a little ragged. But what the boy didn't know was that in that part of the world, it was rare for any farmer to own a horse, for they were very dear in price.
"Are you sure that horse can pull that cart?" asked Peter.
"The cart will move on its own. It'll only appear as if the horse is pulling it," replied Jert.
Peter felt something nudge him from behind. It was his new, old chest that had followed them out of the house.
"Well," said the boy gesturing at the cart with his hand, "What are you waiting for."
As the trunk had not only heard but also understood, it rose up and placed itself on one of the bundles of hay that sat on the back of the cart.
"Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again, at least I don't have to carry the thing," said Peter.
"You will when we get to town," Jert pointed out as he fixed the horse to the cart.
When the horse and cart were ready, Huri walked out, which meant the farmer never, got the chance to talk to Peter alone.
"You can sit in the front, and I can sit in the back if you like, my lord," said Huri.
"No, its okay. I'll sit in the back," said Peter, gritting his teeth. He hated it when they called him lord.
Peter jumped onto the back of the wooden cart and stretched across a few of the bundles of hay. For most of the trip, he was looking up at the grey cloudy sky. The clouds had begun to break up, and for the first time Peter saw the sky in that world.
"The sky it's ...it's purple!"
"Yes, a beautiful light shade of purple, don't you think?" said Jert. "It's different than the Normal world isn't it?"
"Yeah, the sky there is blue," replied the boy.
The colour of the sky made no difference to the sun, for its rays were yellow, and as the clouds were breaking in the distance, it looked as though it might be a beautiful day.
Half an hour was all it took to get to the town. As they passed through the wooden gates, Peter saw that most of the buildings were like the old English townhouses, like those of the mid-1600's. Most of them were white, others were yellow, and some were even cream coloured. They were built of stone or brick, up to a certain part. From there, beams of wood were placed in. Some of the beams were exposed. Most, however, were hidden within the buildings themselves. A lot of buildings were slated; others had only wood to cover their tops, though there were some that were still thatched. All of the slates looked brand new, and it looked as though soon enough all of the rooftops would be slated, for it seemed that a few of the buildings were stripped of whatever had covered them before and were now being fixed with slates as well.
The farmer stopped the cart right in front of the inn that he had told Peter of, which was just across from the market stalls where Huri was headed.
"We better hurry. The sun will be going down in about five hour's time," said the man while laughing.
"I'll be over in the market if you need me," said Huri, letting on she didn't hear her husband's jest as she hurried to the stalls. She didn't even wait for an answer.
"Fine," said Jert, even though he knew she was already gone. The Wizard took the horses reins and was just about to lead it forward to the small wooden stables. Just then, Peter's magical chest sprung to life yet again and lifted itself off the hay. Peter sprang forward and caught it. He half expected it to struggle. To the Draga-Wizard-Elf's delight, nothing happened. Peter jumped off of the cart chest and stood there while the Wizard tied the horse to one of the wooden posts set in the stables.
The boy held the chest tightly in his arms just in case it changed its mood and decided to dance down the street in front of any passersby.
There were not very many walking the streets at that time, but Peter knew if even one person were to see the chest moving on its own, it would not take long for the story to travel, especially in such a small community.
The horse did not like being tied, so it took the farmer a few minutes to finish.
While that was going on Peter happened to look up at the sign that was hanging above the door. A light breeze caused it to slowly spin, for it was held by only one chain. The other was broken. Peter saw that on the notice was a picture of a pig with a pouty expression on its fat face standing on its hind legs with its arms folded. Below the sketch written in large letters it read: The Huffy Hog.
When Jert had finished with the horse, they stepped inside.
As the door opened, tobacco smoke hit them right up the face. Peter squinted as the thick cloud of swirling smoke stung his eyes. He smelt another type of smoke mixed in there, too, one that he knew well enough.
"That smells like weed," he said to his companion.
"You're right, it is," said the Wizard merrily. It's Staptaw. The best weed from the Uamta-parts. They're the best in their business, because they leave it to ripen an extra term. Huri's brother works up there. He told me. But don't go telling anyone else. If the Uamkaer brothers find out, he could get the sack."