Chapter Seventeen
“WOW. ALL THIS. For you?” Killi looked around Kade’s dingy dorm, his nose scrunched in clear disgust. He swiped a finger over the desk Kade hadn’t had time to clean yet, and his finger came away black.
“Shut up,” laughed Kade. “We’re not all lucky enough to be given a room fit for a king. Some of us are servants and guards and apprentices, and we get this.”
Killi shook his head. “No. The guards’ rooms are much nicer than this. I made sure of it. Hokda just hates you guys.”
Amazing. “Oh.”
Kade finished the last of the buttons across his chest, then turned to Killi and held out his arms, asking a silent question.
Killi looked him up and down slowly, then pressed his lips together. “Yes. I think Hokda must really hate you.”
Throwing his arms up, Kade groaned. “I know! It’s awful.”
Killi cackled.
“Why can’t we all just wear white like he does?” Kade said petulantly. “I look like an overgrown pyttle bug.”
Killi tipped forward, his hands on his stomach. No doubt the image of the spindly, green bug with a bulbous white butt at the forefront of his mind. It matched the apprentice robes horribly well. The top an awful sickly green. The bottoms, at least, were a normal white.
Kade worked to keep his face stern. “Stop! It’s not funny. How am I supposed to be taken seriously like this?”
Still laughing, Killi slapped Kade’s hands away from where he was picking at the buttons on his uniform. “You look good, the most dashing pyttle bug to ever walk these halls.” He took over fiddling with and fixing Kade’s already perfect uniform. “Breathe. Breathe.”
Kade obeyed, filling his lungs to bursting before exhaling. Again and again. It didn’t make him feel any better. So, he said, “Thank you for being here.”
“It’s your first day. I wouldn’t miss it.”
The knock at Kade’s door just after dawn had been irritating beyond belief until he’d seen who it was.
He hadn’t slept well—had barely slept at all, actually—in his new room all by himself.
He’d gotten used to falling asleep to the sound of Killi breathing, to the steady thump thump thump of his heart, and without it everything felt too quiet. Too cold.
“You should get going,” said Killi. “Don’t want to make a bad impression.”
“As if Hokda could think any worse of me.” Kade didn’t move. He looked up into Killi’s dark, intelligent eyes, soft in the morning glow. “I can do this?”
“You can do this.”
A smile curled onto Kade’s face and he felt the ball of nerves in his stomach loosen.
“Kade, we should get going—” Porthos appeared in the open doorway, his hand raised to knock. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know you had company.” He nodded to Killi. “Captain.”
All traces of warmth vanished from Killi’s face.
He stepped away from Kade, his body stiff, drawn up to his full height.
There was something unreadable flashing in Killi’s eyes, it reminded Kade of Turell and a knife pressed to Roi Finnes’s throat.
Suddenly, absurdly, Kade had the urge to step between Killi and Porthos.
Killi lowered his head. “Your—”
“None of that now, Captain,” Porthos quickly cut Killi off, then scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m here as an apprentice and nothing more.” He turned to Kade again. “We should go. Everyone’s already headed down.”
“Alright.” Kade took one last look at Killi, hoping to catch his eye, but the other was focused entirely on Porthos. So, he stepped around Killi’s frozen figure, and followed the golden haired apprentice out the door.
Kade had done it right, he knows he did. He’d followed instructions, verbal and written exactly, not a twitch outside of what was ordered.
Painstakingly following along with each of Hokda’s steps, spoken clearly and carefully and surprisingly easy to understand, all while double checking in the text that they were working out of. And yet…
Hokda stared over his shoulder, eyes critical and unimpressed. He drawled, “Shoddy work. This is a simple draught for pain. It should be easy for such an experienced healer such as yourself.”
The draught wasn’t one Kade was familiar with, the ingredients more potent than the ones available back in Turell, but the process was familiar. The grinding and breaking of herbs, measuring and brewing under strict conditions until the output was perfect.
Kade’s cheeks flamed, hot and embarrassed.
Taking a chance, he peeked at what was bubbling in front of Porthos. The thickened pink concoction was identical to the one in Kade’s cauldron.
Defending himself, Kade said, “I did it right.”
“I disagree.” Hokda tilted his head and smirked. “And if I say it’s wrong, then it’s wrong. Stay after lessons, you’ll try again until you get it right.”
Kade furrowed his brow. He opened his mouth, ready to argue further, but froze when he caught sight of the other apprentices.
A few, Porthos included, were staring resolutely down at their own draught, pretending they weren’t listening.
The others were throwing glances at him over their shoulders, snickering.
Galet, a female with vibrant red hair, sneered at him when their eyes met, clearly enjoying his scolding.
Fuck that. He wouldn’t let it get to him.
“Yes, sir,” Kade ground out.
When the healer was gone, Kade dropped his head to his book and breathed.
It was the beginning of a pattern.
Seven fresh specimens lay on seven apprentice stations, the skin and organs of the small species of pig resembled the elven anatomy more than any other substitute.
Kade’s station was the only one absent a pig.
The room buzzed in excitement, each apprentice eager to get started.
Hokda clapped his hands and the room quieted, everyone turning to give him their full attention.
“Healing internal wounds is vastly different to their simpler outer counterparts. More often than not it’ll require you to cut your patient from sternum to pelvis just to get a good idea of what’s truly wrong.
However, before you even begin to think about your first cut, there are three things that you must do to prepare your patient first. Taiga, give me one. ”
The raven haired apprentice on Porthos’ other side answered without hesitation. “Administer a draught with anesthetic properties, putting the patient to sleep to prevent any unnecessary pain or complications.”
“Good. Galet, another.”
Galet was less confident in her answers, but she powered through. “Take catalog of the patient's condition. Consider any other wounds that they may have sustained and plan accordingly as it may affect the procedure.”
“Precisely,” said Hokda—and Kade knew what was coming. “del Torau, the last.”
It was lucky Kade knew this. “Ensure your working area is as clean as possible. Cleanse your hands, tools, and patient with a potion if possible, but water will do if nothing else is available.”
Hokda said nothing, simply turned on his heel to face the other side of the room, the gold in his ears jingling.
That meant Kade was right. He shared a knowing look with Porthos and rolled his eyes.
“You will treat this specimen as if it is your patient, so once you have gone through the three motions on the list and prepared your patient, you may make your first cut.” Hokda detailed out exactly how and where to cut first on an elven patient, and then adjusted it for their pig.
Only after the other apprentices were off did Hokda drift over to Kade. “Ah, del Torau, my deepest apologies,” said Hokda flatly. “You must understand. When I put in this order, I still only had seven apprentices.”
“Of course.”
“Sir,” said Porthos, “He can share mine—”
“No.” Hokda cut Porthos a deathly glare. “Each apprentice must have their own specimen to learn adequately.” He looked at Kade. “Go catch a frog to use. There are plenty out front by the lakes.”
Blood boiling, Kade grit out, “…A frog?”
“Yes. A frog. Problem?”
Kade came back with the biggest frog he could catch, a fat, green little thing. Its body roughly the size of his palm. It would do.
There were laughs disguised as stifled coughs around the room at the mud stuck to the knees of Kade’s trousers and smeared on his face and in his hair.