She carried on talking about the merits of the right burn ointments and how the results might have been better had he come to them earlier. It was all Aedan could do to hold back the scream of mortification.
“Relax, my boy,” Gilda chided, shaking his tense shoulders. “Nobody here is going to think less of you.”
Aedan wondered, as he saw the girls whispering to each other, how a grown woman could be such a wool-head. He was somewhat comforted, though, to notice that some of his friends looked angry enough to have lost interest in the girls.
The mistress drifted back to her preparations, and the murmur of conversation resumed. Aedan slunk away to the back where Lorrimer and Peashot joined him.
“My father keeps pigs with better manners,” Lorrimer grumbled.
“If it weren’t for all the girls standing around us, I would have tenderised her,” the little boy said, twirling his peashooter. “Before our classes with her are over I’m going to give her a few scars of her own. She seems to like them enough on other people.”
A young nurse wheeled in a trolley bearing something covered in a sheet. Mistress Gilda rushed over and took charge, moving the trolley to the middle of the class where there was an open area.
“I would like you all gathered around here. Boys to the front please.” She waited for them to gather and settle down. “The girls have already been studying two months while you were busy with your eliminations. In this class you will cover a number of aspects of basic medical treatment. The girls will be fully qualified as physicians and surgeons, but you will only cover the most essential aspects. We begin with field surgery and for this it is important that you are able to control yourselves around some of the things you are likely to see. That means practice. As surgeons, there is only one way we get to practice, and I think you can guess what that means.”
All eyes dropped to the sheet, feet began to shuffle back where they bumped into the girls’ toes and had to shuffle forward again.
“So,” Gilda announced with a smile, “this is the kind of thing you will need to get used to.”
She flipped the sheet up to reveal the body of a man who had been dead for some time. Maggots had made significant inroads and students had worked on parts of his torso and arms, so that what remained was disturbing in the extreme.
The reactions were varied. Hadley’s easy confidence fled. Peashot wrinkled his stub nose and scrunched his face till it was as puckered as a prune. Lorrimer went for the tougher look. He wore a nonchalant smile, tilted his head back and sank his hands into his pockets. Then he spun around, doubled over and vomited uncontrollably. Warton laughed with open derision until the air from the corpse hit him. The laugh turned to a choke, and before he could recover himself, he joined Lorrimer. Another three added their sentiments to the floor. None of the boys looked pleased and several wearing urgent expressions asked if they might be excused. Gilda sent them all out into the sunlight and the open air where they found quiet corners to resolve inner turmoils.
Apart from cleaning up the deposits of beef and lentils, nothing more was accomplished during the class.
“That was the most disgusting lesson I’ve ever heard of,” said Lorrimer, still spitting, as they crossed the courtyard and headed back to the marshals’ block and the training hall.
“Maybe it gets better with time,” said Vayle. “The girls were all used to it.”
“Then these girls are sick. It’s not right.”
“If she puts me on display like that again,” said Aedan, “I’m walking out.”
“I think we’ll join you if she does,” said Lorrimer. Peashot and Vayle voiced their agreement.
Dun awaited them in the training hall with a cheerful smile. If he noticed the shuffling gait or the tinge of green on sagging faces, he gave it no thought.
“Right lads,” he said brightly, “I hope you have a good lunch in you because this session will burn it all up.”
They attacked the bags using their knees, shins and feet. Most of them tried to go easy until Dun lost his temper with “all the fairying about” and promised them that if he did not see the bags getting their gizzards crunched he would double the laps on blue.
It was a very quiet group that left the hall and hobbled back up the steps, wincing at the effort required to skip the traps. After lifting the ramp, they shuffled into the dinner hall, collected their plates of chicken, potato and cabbage, and dropped wordlessly onto the benches. Peashot managed a few mouthfuls, then rested his head on the table while chewing and fell asleep.
They had hoped to drop straight into bed, but another surprise awaited them at the dorms. Dun again.
“As part of your training in refinements, you are going to get into the habit of keeping yourselves clean,” he announced. “There is soap, a vat of water, and a large pitcher in the little drained cubicle at the end of each dorm. Three pitchers each – that’s a minimum. Winter is no exception. You wash yourselves properly. Matron Rosalie has a nose like a shrew and she’ll let me know if any one of you shirks this duty. Don’t forget the last class of the day for the illiterate ones.”
A few boys looked like they were about to cry as they remembered.
“The rest of you are to put in at least an hour of revision. Books are in your shelves, writing material on your desks. Don’t let me catch anyone sleeping.”
The words “sorrier than you can imagine” were dancing in the air, weaving through the stunned silence.
“Well, get to it! I want you as clean as mountain rain by the time I return, and that won’t be long.”
Hadley was the least put out by this most recent barrage of surprises. He sat on his bed, leaning against the wall and folded his hands behind him with a faint smile.
“I’m sure you’ll agree with me,” he said, “that the time spent with the ladies was the best part of the day. After Aedan showed his scar they had so much to say. You should have heard all questions about the fire and … Ouch!” He slapped a hand to his neck. “You little blighter!” He sprang off his bed and stormed down the room.
To everyone’s surprise, Lorrimer pushed himself up onto his spidery limbs and stepped in the way.
“What do you think you are doing, Ladderboy? My quarrel is with Peashot.”
“I … I think it’s with all of us.”
“What! Have you lost your mind?” Hadley looked around in mocking appeal.
“Think,” said Vayle, leaning back on his chair and looking out somewhere beyond the ceiling. “Try to hear what you just said, and imagine how it sounded to Aedan. You might have had a great time today, but if you can’t see that it was torture for him then you really are a self-absorbed ass.”
Hadley’s confusion appeared to be restraining him physically, but slowly the redness passed from his face as realisation worked its way home.
“You’re right,” he said. “I am an ass. Sorry, Aedan. I’ll never speak to any of those girls again.” He turned away and trailed off to the washroom, a spectacle of self-loathing.
By the time Peashot and Lorrimer returned from their introductory class on letters, Aedan had read the first line on the page about two hundred times and still couldn’t get the words to surrender their meaning. The three who had remained in the dorm had agreed to wake anyone who dropped off. Shoes had accordingly been thrown across the room times beyond counting.
Dun was happy to see them all awake when the others returned. He wished them a good night’s rest, promising that they would need it.
When the silence of night was defiled by Dun’s cheery rousting, a few strong whispers rose in response. Aedan was convinced he’d only just fallen asleep. Every muscle ached.
Appetites had not yet stirred, but the boys knew how valuable that porridge would be. Lorrimer and Peashot kept to their arrangement and all plates were cleaned.
In the training hall, bandages were made available to those whose knuckles, elbows or knees were skinless. They revised the techniques from the previous day, and Dun began t
o introduce them to sequences.
“Don’t think of this as learning to fight, but learning to knock a man down as quickly as possible. Your duties will place you in situations where you will often be outnumbered, so you won’t have the luxury of softening your opponent and wearing him down. You need to execute these patterns as though there are men approaching from behind.”
The sequences were direct and brutal, hardly appropriate for a good old tavern brawl. Dun then gave them an overview of the grappling and wrestling techniques they would learn, and how to use their feet to defend when thrown on their backs. “Though you want to avoid going to ground,” he said, “many evenly matched fights do. I won’t have any of you becoming turtles, helpless when toppled.”
Dun got them back onto their feet and drilled them in four different sequences until they could link the movements naturally, then sentenced them to three laps of the green circuit. Though it was less exhausting, this circuit required more balance and cool-headedness, especially on the high rope-traverse and balance bar – a rounded, slightly wobbly beam that linked two platforms thirty feet above the straw. This one suited Aedan far better. Though he was slow on the basic obstacles, only he and Hadley made it across the balance bar on their first attempts.
When he had finished his laps, he re-tied his bandages and went through to the weapons hall to wait. The two boys that followed him had caught his attention on the previous day, eyeing him as if hoping to speak with him alone. They approached now, looking none too friendly. He recognised one – Malik – the popular boy who had almost caused him to walk out of the trials once.
“We need to give you a warning,” Malik said without introduction. Aedan looked up at him, finding him a lot more intimidating from close. He was tall and athletic, but it was his face that set him apart. His pale features, made to seem even paler by his dark hair, were as hard and angled as if he had been constructed from blocks of marble, and little time had been wasted on smoothing the result. There was all the bite of winter mist in his pale grey eyes, and an air of high breeding and perfect manners that only made him more chilling.
Hadley entered the room and strode up to them. At his approach the two tall boys turned and walked away, leaving Aedan to puzzle over the strange words.
“What do you know about this Malik?” Aedan asked.
“Giving you trouble?”
“Not sure. Maybe. Said he had a warning for me but cut it off when you arrived. So? Do you know anything about him?”
“More than he would like. My father knows their family. Malik’s father is rich, a nice man, but he’s as timid as a mouse. His wife married him for the money and now controls everything in the home. My dad calls her the iron queen, says she’s the most powerful woman in Castath and probably the cruellest too – had three servants whipped so badly last year that two of them died and nothing happened to her. If Malik wants anything he goes to her, but he doesn’t like people knowing, so he pretends it’s his father doing things for him. In my opinion, his mother found a way to push him through the final selection.” Hadley paused, glancing at Aedan. “Malik is strong in all the wrong ways – cunning and mean as a rat. The less you have to do with him the better.”
“He’s popular.”
“Only because everyone’s too scared to be on his bad side. Nobody really likes him. Big old Cayde hangs around him like a bodyguard – not that Malik needs one – but I think Cayde’s like the rest. Only thing they like about Malik is that he’s got lots of influence because of his father’s money.”
“So what you think he wants with me?”
“Let’s go find out,” Hadley said, turning and striding away.
Hadley, as Aedan was learning, was all confidence and momentum. He seemed to be incapable of hesitation.
“No, wait!” Aedan rushed up, but Hadley had already covered most of the ground and drew up in front of Malik.
“You wanted to say something to my friend?” Hadley asked. “I don’t mind if you want to talk now.”
Malik scowled. “The matter does not concern you,” he said, almost hissing.
Hadley’s look grew hard. “You’re not trying to cause trouble are you?”
“Oh, go and shove your nose in someone else’s face, you insolent oaf.” Malik turned his back and walked off.
“Thought so,” said Hadley with a smile. “Definitely nothing good.”
The episode bothered Aedan for the next few classes. He had a dim awareness of being watched through the morning. It was only during field surgery that he was distracted enough to forget Malik and his strange words. The boys walked over to the medical wing and entered their classroom with something akin to dread. Aedan kept his eyes on the floor, trying not to catch anyone’s attention. Nevertheless, he could feel eyes settling on his scarred left side and he unconsciously tugged on the hair around the burn, trying to cover his half ear.
“Pairs, please,” Mistress Gilda trilled. “Gentlemen, find a lady to help you through this class. No loners.”
With a lot of awkward shuffling and blushing, the class paired up. Aedan thought that the numbers were uneven and that he had been left out until he spotted the small dark-skinned, raven-haired girl on the opposite side of the room. He had learned first-hand that foreigners did not always receive the warmest welcome in Castath. With her ebony skin proclaiming what must be Mardrae or Krunish blood, she would have felt her isolation every day. It was no surprise when she did not approach, but instead kept her eyes down and stood where she was.
He was struck by the same feeling that had moved him to adopt a dozen grounded fledglings, an injured fawn, an almost-drowned rat, and even an abandoned fox cub. The dung beetles, frogs and lizards had really been abducted.
“Would you like to work with me?” he asked as he approached.
“Thank you,” she said, and accompanied him to the remaining table.
“I’m Aedan.”
“I am Lee’runda, but I prefer to be known as Liru.” She did not look at his scar and made no comment on the previous day’s humiliation – it didn’t even appear to be in her thoughts – and he made no comment on her foreign ancestry. If he was not paying attention to her skin, her large dark eyes and bold, rounded features, he could almost forget that she was not Thirnish, for her speech had only the slightest whisper of an accent. There was a deliberate precision to her words, though, a hint of woodenness that suggested hard study rather than childhood familiarity with the language.
Mistress Gilda explained the process of making a balm suitable for light cuts, burns and grazes. She pointed to diagrams of the three most effective leaves – copperlip, frabe and elfweed – and explained briefly where each of them might be found in various terrains. Then she handed out ingredients – copperlip leaves, tallow boiled from mutton, flaxseed oil, and honey. The girls already had some experience with salves and were able to demonstrate the use of pestle and mortar.
“Don’t just flatten. Crush!” Gilda instructed. “If the leaves remain uncrushed the potency remains locked inside.”
The mistress made her presence felt at every desk. When she reached Aedan’s she remarked on her recovering burn victim. She was not observant enough to notice Aedan’s reddening face. Liru said nothing when the mistress left, though the fact that she no longer explained what she was doing suggested she was far more conscious of Aedan’s discomfort than she let on.
Each pair was then told to apply the salve to a bandage and to wrap a wound, imaginary or otherwise, on their partner’s arm. The girls had little need for imagination. Skinless knuckles and elbows abounded, many of them oozing under sticky sleeves.
“Lee’runda,” the mistress said as she approached. “Why don’t you wrap the burn wound on Aedan’s head pretending it’s fresh. These placements are quite a challenge for bandaging.”
“If it is possible,” the quiet girl said, “I would prefer to work on his elbow. He has hurt it badly.” Liru spoke respectfully, but there was something in her voice that suggest
ed she was prepared to meet firmness with the same.
“As you wish.” Gilda whisked away.
“Thank you,” said Aedan.
Liru glanced at him. “You saved me embarrassment earlier when you did not leave me alone.”
“That doesn’t prove I was being kind or anything – we were the only two left.”
“You still asked without waiting to be told.”
“You looked alone. I know what that feels like.”
She regarded him now with a direct gaze. “I think you are kind. I am glad to be working with you. I was very worried.”
“I’m glad to be working with you too. I don’t think I need to dread this class anym-aaaaahhh!”
The salve stung more than he had expected. Liru patted his arm, a dark amusement lurking at the corner of her mouth, until his face relaxed. Then she wrapped the bandage with a level of skill that could not have been gained in two months.
“Your hands move too fast for someone who just learned this,” he said.
“My father is a doctor. I assisted him for many years before I came here.” She glanced around, put a finger to her lips, and repeated the procedure on the other elbow before any of the other girls had finished their first bandage. “There, that should feel more comfortable. Change them in two days. I’ll help you if I get a chance.”
Aedan then attempted to apply a bandage on Liru’s forearm, and the only good thing about it was that the wound was imaginary. He had Liru guide him through the wraps and knots again and did a better job on the second attempt.
“So why is it that we only meet with the twenty of you and none of the other nurses in your year?”
“You are disappointed?” she asked with a frown.
“No, not at all. I’m just curious. Are you separate from the rest?”
Dawn of Wonder (The Wakening Book 1) Page 26
