8 - The Healer’s Code
As Maeve walked with squire Byrick towards the infirmary, she tried not to laugh as Byrick attempted to act the gentleman with a full load of gear in his arms. He raced ahead to nudge open the door with his foot, insisting that Maeve walk through without so much as lifting a finger.
“I’m quite alright to walk by myself,” Maeve told him as she stepped out into the cooling night air. “In fact, I’m more than happy to take that note down to the kitchens myself, too.”
“Oh, no miss. It’s fine,” Byrick said. “My high commander gave an order, and I’ll see it through.”
He smiled at her and nearly dropped an arm brace. But his hand snapped out quickly and caught it, placing it back on top with a firm pat before keeping pace with her once more.
“You’re very dedicated,” Maeve said as they walked. “I admire that.”
“Thank you, miss! I admire you, too, you know!”
“Oh, really? How so?”
“W-well,” he admitted, stammering a little. “To get face to face with that monster and not flinch? Th-that’s more than I could do.”
Maeve glanced at him curiously. “Could? You’ve been face-to-face with it?”
Byrick nodded eagerly.
“Oh, yes, miss,” he said. “I was a soldier before Lady Edain took me as her squire. First on the front, too. I saw the monster in action many times.”
The healer looked at him askance now, her astonishment apparent.
“How old are you?” she asked, incredulous.
“S-seventeen,” Byrick admitted. “But my mother always said I was too skinny for my own good.”
“But you have to be sixteen to join up,” Maeve said.
Byrick blushed.
“I, uh, lied,” he admitted. “L-Lady Edain and High Commander Voss already know, though! They…they were the ones who found out, actually.”
He laughed nervously. If his hands were free, Maeve thought he might have rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. His cheeks were a furious color.
“I didn’t really have much of a choice back then - it was either the army or starve, and I figured no one would care as long as I was a body on the front line,” Collin continued. “B-but they did. They were so furious when they found out. But I’ll never forget what Lady Edain said to me. She said, ‘Listen, kid. If you’re gonna get yourself killed, at least let me give you the skills to do it with some grace.’” He paused and laughed. “I didn’t have much of a choice then, either, but at least they didn’t send me home to starve. I think they knew what would happen.”
Maeve shook her head, but she was smiling all the same.
“I’d scold you, but then I’d be a hypocrite,” she admitted. “I did some equally dumb things myself growing up. Sometimes, all you can do is survive.”
Something in her tone made Collin look up.
“Oh, I didn’t know,” he stammered. “What…when…?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maeve said. “It happened when I was very young. Sounds like you were a little older, though.”
He nodded.
“I lost my parents when I was twelve,” he said. “But the home I was put in…well, let’s just say there was a reason I lied. Oh, here we are.”
He stopped just in front of the infirmary door.
“S-sorry, miss. You probably didn’t want to hear all about my sob story,” he said.
“It’s no problem,” Maeve smiled. “It’s good to know that some of us made it out, right?”
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Collin smiled and nodded. “Yes, miss. It really is.”
Maeve turned to go inside, but the young squire stopped her.
“Oh, miss?” he said quickly. “Um, I don’t have a lot of free time, but if you need any help at all, I can stay and help.”
“No, that’s okay,” Maeve said, shaking her head. “You have a lot of work to do.”
“It’s really no bother.”
But Maeve’s hands tightened on the papers she carried.
“It’s fine, squire Byrick,” she said stiffly. “Truly. It’s not much but herbs and potion making, and it takes a steady hand.”
“Oh.”
Collin looked down, crestfallen. Maeve’s stomach churned.
“I didn’t mean that,” she said gently. “I meant to say practiced. I still have nightmares thinking about my first time at it. I messed up three whole batches, and Senior Healer Reynold whacked my knuckles with a wooden spoon so many times I still flinch when I make a mistake.”
“Oh,” Collin said, a little brighter. “Well, then, if you need me in the future - just to fetch things or hold stuff - don’t hesitate to call for me. I’m - I’m a quick learner.”
“Thank you, Collin,” she said. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”
She watched as he beamed at her before trotting off towards the armory to put up the gear, shaking her head as he nearly tripped and fell. But he caught himself just in time.
She waited until he was out of sight - as long as she could. She didn’t want to go inside, but she knew she had to. High Commander Voss expected her to be able to pull this off, and she didn’t want to disappoint him.
But this was getting hard.
As soon as she pushed the door open, the whole air seemed to shift. The noise of conversation died as hard eyes turned towards her. She kept her head down as she closed the door and walked forward, eyes firmly on the ground. Her shoes padded silently over the wooden floor boards. Her attempts to make herself seem small and unseen were clearly failing, but she tried all the same.
“Little upstart,” one muttered under their breath.
Another giggled. “What did you expect from some no-name orphan? They’re always trying to be better than they are.”
Maeve was glad she turned down Collin. She would never want someone like him to hear something like this.
A pair of feet stepped in her path. She glanced up, swallowing hard as she met the eyes of Senior Healer Reynold.
She swallowed. Once upon a time, she and the senior healer had a good relationship. Reynold had taught her more than the academy ever had. But ever since the day she’d gotten caught visiting the monster without approval by the high commander no less, he’d looked at her more and more like she had killed his cat.
Reynold sniffed as he looked down at her, arms folded over his chest.
“You’re late,” he said.
“I was making a report.”
“To whom?”
“High Commander Voss.”
“Oh.”
He sniffed again and looked around. “Listen, girl. You may not be an assistant anymore, but keep in mind that you still must be responsible. Oliver informed me that you took three bottles of antiseptic potions without recording it. He had to go back in and do it for you. And what do you need three bottles for?”
She bit the inside of her mouth hard to keep from sassing him back. She had recorded the inventory log. But one glance at Oliver’s smug expression behind Reynold’s back told her it would be useless to argue.
“The monster’s wounds are extensive,” she said.
“We got them under control before you took over,” Reynold said. “You don’t need that many.”
“He gets difficult,” she said.
“Then you’ll just have to be more careful.”
“But sir-”
“We don’t have so many supplies that you can go wasting them,” Reynold snapped. “We have real soldiers who need this stuff, injuries of worthy men who must be able to stave off infection. If you can’t be careful, then you’ll have to pay for the losses.”
“I-” she paused and took a deep breath.
Reynold scowled down at her.
“You what, girl? Spit it out.”
“I…I will do my best to make sure it doesn't go wasted again,” she said, dropping her gaze once more.
“See that it doesn’t,” Reynold said. “Or the next meeting we will be discussing your lack of discipline with the high commander. When your little show fails to produce results, perhaps then he may understand that putting an unqualified assistant in charge of the health of an important prisoner is an unwise idea.”
He walked away, mumbling under his breath about status-seekers. Maeve immediately ran forward, straight to the back and behind the partition where her work space had been relocated.
She didn’t want them to see her tears.
When had he become so disappointed in her? When had he become so cold? It pained her to think that perhaps she had a hand in this. Perhaps she had done the wrong thing that day.
“As healers, our job is to care for the living no matter what,” he had once drilled into her. “We swear to help and never hinder, to bring life instead of death, and to never use our knowledge to harm. That is the way of a healer.”
What happened to that Reynold?
She sniffed and sat down, wiping at her face with her sleeve as her hands quickly found the herbs she needed for a poultice. She couldn’t afford to get this wrong. Maybe, just maybe, if she worked hard enough, Reynold could find approval in her. Then, she could be the healer he always wanted her to be.
She hoped.

