Helsa's Secrect Ingredient
HELSA’S SECRET INGREDIENT
by
Dan Absalonson
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PUBLISHED BY:
Helsa’s Secret Ingredient
Copyright © 2011 by Dan Absalonson
Cover Photo © 2010 by Katharina Maimer
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
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Dedicated to the Every Photo Tells podcast for accepting this story as a submission.
A big thanks to Katharina Maimer for letting me use her photo for the cover, and
for such a great reading of my story with Mick Bordet. A big thanks to Mick as well.
This story was inspired by Every Photo Tells. It was written based on the photograph
on the cover of this book. They have many great podcast stories, go check them out!
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HELSA’S SECRET INGREDIENT
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Helsa and Vairgar had always done well selling their stew outside the castle walls, but now they were going to need magic. Lately none had come to visit the castle, so they had not sold any stew in many days. They had to do something.
They did not know why no one came, nor did the other merchants. If the guards knew they weren't talking, not even for free stew; and no one passed on Helsa's stew. Something big must have been going on. It was even autumn, usually a great time for selling their delicious bubbling mix of local vegetables, chopped meats, and spices. In the past, as the weather grew cold, more travelers flocked to the odiferous boiling pot.
Helsa and Vairgar sat with a whole pot of the stew made up. It was boiling above the leaf strewn ground, which provided a carpeted path for any who would walk through the frigid biting air. Their wish for the chill weather to bring them more business had not been granted. Vairgar was fanning the flame under the pot with his bellows to keep it hot as he heard Helsa sigh. He knew it meant she was fed up with just sitting around waiting for their fortunes to turn. He had to admit, she’d done well for herself to wait this long. Helsa was not a patient woman; she was a woman of action. Vairgar liked to wait things out. He figured that eventually everything would just fix itself; but he knew his wife would have none of that.
"No one is coming, are they?" she said, each word clipped as if she was biting at them once they escaped her mouth.
"They will come my dear," Vairgar said, "we just have to wait."
"We've been waiting! Now is the time when we must do something. We cannot just continue to sit here and hope that someone comes!"
It was now Vairgar's turn to sigh. "What is it that you think we can do about it my love? We do not even know the reason that no one is coming to the castle."
"Well then why don't you try to go inside and ask someone?"
"We've already tried that. You know the guards won't let me in unless I have official business with the king."
He looked over and saw Helsa start to say something but he cut her off, "and I won't forge a letter for admittance either. We could get in a lot of trouble for something like that."
She slumped, sticking a bit of her plump lower lip out, as she rested her chin on her hands.
"You wouldn't want your good husband to be in the dungeon now would you?"
"No," she said just above a whisper. They sat listening to the slow boil of their stew and the rustling of leaves from the cold lazy wind. Vairgar was starting to wonder if his wife had fallen asleep when she sat up with the speed of an arrow released from a bowman’s grip.
"I've got it!" she said.
Her sudden words had startled Vairgar and he sat recovering from the sudden outburst of excitement.
"Well, aren't you going to ask me what my idea is?"
Vairgar got up and grabbed the ladle. As he began stirring the stew with his back to her he dropped his shoulders and said, "Alright, what is your idea?"
"We'll go and ask my uncle for help!"
"Your uncle?" Vairgar said.
"Yes, is something the matter?" she said.
"Is something the matter? Yes. You mean to say your uncle, the one who lives alone up in that cave? The one who was thrown out of the village due to his madness? This same man you propose can somehow help us? Yes something is the matter my dear. We may be desperate, but your uncle?"
"It is about time to get spices from him, and he is not mad; he is a wizard. Most wizards are a little,” she faltered for the right word, “strange."
"Well he is strange, but besides that I have never seen him perform any acts of magic. Who could when he stayed cooped up in his shack all day, mixing concoctions meant for God knows what?"
"He was teaching himself to make potions, as he is now up in that cave; poor man. We should bring him some stew again; it's been some time since we last brought him some. You must go and ask him if he has something that could help us."
She was right; they hadn't brought the poor man any stew in some time. It's not that he didn't have food of his own, but the stew was surely a treat for a man who lived alone. It was the least they could do when he gave them a fine stock of spices, to last them most of the year, every time they visited him. He always said it was left over from potion ingredients he had gathered but never used. He didn't think the old hermit could do them any good, but he figured he had nothing better to do than go and gather more spices. At least he would be giving a lonely old man some warm sustenance.
"Alright dear. I'll go to give the poor old man some stew and get more spices from him, but he won't be able to help us."
"You don't know that Vairgar; will you ask him?"
Vairgar sighed again as he stood and pulled the sides of his tall hat down over his ears.
"Yes, I'll ask him. Please prepare a container of stew, while I get my coat and mittens for the journey.