If Wishes Were... by Feath MacKirin "I wish--" "Oh, please don't--" Jack murmured with heartfelt sincerity. "--I had a nickel for every man that came through here, with a story like that." Jack flinched slightly at the slight pop he heard somewhere behind him. Sitting atop the old bay mare, Jack looked down at the guard. "Good Sir," Jack said, trying to hide his desperation. "At absolutely no cost to you, you can own this fine mare, or any one of these grand horses behind me." He waved a hand, the tattered sleeve fluttering, at the herd of horses standing patiently behind him. "Generally thieves try and sell their goods," the guard eyed Jack with suspicion. "and you just want to give them away? What kind of thief are you, anyway?" Jack straightened his back, pride stiffening weary muscles. "I am a Beggar, my good man, not a thief!" Laughing, the guard retreated, and waved him through the city gates. With a tired sigh, Jack nudged the mare into motion. The herd ambled placidly behind, never leaving a large enough gap for Jack to conveniently loose his four legged train. He found a pen in the back of the market, and nudged the horses in. Sitting on the fence rail, he attempted to give the horses away. No one would take any. Jack checked his money bag and groaned at its leanness. With a resigned shrug, he waddled off, careful not to rub his blistered thighs together. Arriving at the hay seller, he had four bails delivered to the pen. On seeing the bounty placed before them, the horses, with happy little neighs, ate their heads off. A Fat Man in a striped robe stood before the pen, watching the horses eat Jack's life savings. "What are you asking for them?" He asked cautiously, holding his hands behind his back and rocking on his toes. Jacks eye's gleamed with an unfallen tear. "Please, Sir. Please, take your pick, take them all, take one, take seven, but don’t walk away taking none." "How much?" "Nothing, Good Sir, they are free, yours but for the asking." The Fat Man laughed. "I wish! Come now, how much? I am an honest man; I won't cheat you too badly in the bargaining." Jack whimpered at the pop he heard from the pen. He did not turn at the sound of a new neigh, as the newcomer found itself looking at a pile of food. "I am a simple man, Good Sir, a Beggar, and I am begging you to take the horses. Oh, please, Sir, please, take them, take them all!" With a look of surprise, the Fat Man realized the Beggar was serious, and rubbing his beard, nodded slowly, as if he understood what was going on. Jack fell onto the Fat Man's chest, and blubbered his heartfelt thanks. Then he turned to the pen and addressed the horses. "He has taken you. You are his!" The horses looked back at him, their liquid brown eyes sorrowful and accepting. Jack turned and tugged his ragged burlap shirt into place. He walked away with as much dignity as he could, considering his legs continued to cramp. "I wish I had met you yesterday, Young Beggar!" The Fat Man called to his retreating back. Jack froze, one foot still off the ground, and his shoulders jerked up in a futile attempt to close his ears. The slight pop behind him heralded the arrival of a new companion. Without looking back, he continued to walk from the market, the soft plops of hooves followed -- of course. "I wish I had a talent like that." The sausage vender said, watching as Jack walked by. Pop. "Coo, will you look at that? Done I wish!" Pop. A babble of voice's broke out behind him. Pop, pop... pop. Jack held his head high as he doggedly walked out of town. Pop. Pop, pop. top