Jayla had finally settled in to writing her request after stalling for several days. The study was as clean as it as going to get, the garden was planted, and she'd fixed everything on the wagon. She had new quills, fresh scribe's ink, the best parchment she'd been able to find in town, and three scratch tablets to pen things out before using the good paper.
The school's medical curriculum was much more focused on minerals and alchemy, herb lore was being neglected. She'd run into two recent graduates lacking necessary medical knowledge. She requested the students be required to copy the herb lore scrolls as part of their curriculum. She had copies of several other requests for other departments and was focused on phrasing her letter as precisely as possible; the masters were dismissive at best, even with six years beyond the basic education and having taught for two she expected to be ignored; hence going out of her way to make the letter's appearance as high end as possible.
Two copies on clay, read twice, write onto the parchment. Next sentence, repeat. She was half a page in when her focus was shattered by a clash outside in the street, yelling, and a struggle. More yelling.
Jayla tried to work through it, but after almost misspelling a word on the precious parchment she'd had enough. This was a school damnit, and the sports arena was on the other side of town. She carefully put the pen into it's holder and went out to shut down the ruckus.
Two humans were laying in the street, one with a mace, one with a sword. The sword guy had his hand over a rather impressive cut on his arm.
"People are trying to study! Are you DUELING? Go to the damn arena for that!" She snapped.
"That bloody orc stole a ration card and attacked us!"
Orcs. Not native and not trusted by most of the locals. Fair dues, they weren't known in human communities for much save mercenary work. Jayla knew the orcs had scholars and abilities that easily rivaled that of humans, but good luck convincing anyone they were just as smart as everyone else.
"What orc?" She demanded.
"This orc." A deep voice came from behind her. She spun.
Yeeah, that was an orc. He stood about 20 feet away, was unarmed and uninjured, wearing a leather vest, leather pants, a belt with multiple pouches and no shoes to speak of. His sage green skin was smeared with dust and a fine sheen of sweat. Maybe two other times in her life she'd been this close to an orc, once she was treating for battle injuries, the other was at court, there had been several in line wanting to settle a land dispute on the South border. She'd never stood close to one that was standing up. He was nothing short of intimidating until she saw the look on his face, which seemed to be pleading.
"You must be Tharo Stonehammer." She'd heard they'd allowed an orc to attend classes and knew he wasn't going to have an easy time of it. He looked older than she'd expected. "Did you take a ration card?"
"I was issued one. I caught these two around the corner attacking a boy. I intervened."
"Where's the boy?" Jayla had no desire to deal with any of this, she just wanted to get back to her letter.
Tharo's expression darkened; "He ran off when I came after them."
"Listen, I'm doing some important work in there and lives are at stake. I don't care who's lying to me, bugger off and take your problems elsewhere, all of you." Jayla snapped.
The two men said something about getting the constable, and Tharo's scowl made her realize this was not someone she wanted mad at her. "You're lucky, where I'm from harassing a child comes with retribution, and punishment for not acting to protect one."
Jayla felt a knot of fear quickly get replaced by self-righteous indignation "I've saved a lot of children, Stonehammer. Right NOW I'm trying to make sure the students have the knowledge they need to do the same. If you've ever been up to your shoulders in blood it was to make more work for people like me. Now go back to the dorms or barracks or whatever." She regretted saying it as soon as it was out, her credibility was on shaky ground to begin with, she didn't need reports of her harassing the students.
He looked startled for a moment, then gave what she thought was a smirk, it was difficult to tell around his tusks. "Miss Thorntrail. I should have known. I was told you were a bit of a battleaxe. I'll see you at orientation."
"You're studying medicine?"
He made some low grumble she thought passed for a chuckle. "No. You will not be having me as a student. We will be sharing the apothecary though. Sorry to interrupt your..." He waved a massive green hand toward the door "whatever." He turned and started walking away, glanced back and said "I'm an alchemist."
Jayla felt as though the earth had fallen out from under her. She turned toward the swordsman, looking for a distraction, something to ground her. He was now standing and holding his wound. "Come in, let's get that taken care of." She opened the door for him and he shuffled toward it. "You too. " She said to his friend. "Leave your weapons by the door."
She gave the guy with the mace a quick examination, he had a bump on the back of his head but nothing serious, though she assured him he'd have a headache for a couple of days. She grabbed two mugs and dropped some willow bark and wild ginger in, took the kettle from the fireplace and filled them, topping it off with some brandy from a flask on the shelf. "This will taste pretty bad, but it will help with the pain. Wait a few marks and drink it."
She got out the needle and gut for the swordsman;
if you could call him that
, she thought. After all, his opponent had been unarmed. He balked.
"Let me see it, trust me, I won't stitch you if it doesn't need it." He was visibly shaking. The man was fairly big, but looking at his terrified expression she realized he couldn't have been more than 17 winters. Thankfully the wound was shallow. She washed it with a plantain tea, patted it dry, put a honey poultice on it and wrapped it. He continued to tremble and would hiss through his teeth during the process, though she was being gentle.
"If this doesn't stop bleeding by curfew you need to come back here and we'll stitch it. Otherwise return in two days and I'll give you a fresh bandage. If you don't do as I say you could lose your hand, understand?" She looked sternly into his watering eyes.
He nodded.
"All right. Drink your tea. All off it. Now." She snapped. They hurriedly downed the mugs, wincing at the taste. "Now get out and mind your business. If I hear you've been harassing anyone else you'll be reported and banished."
"But..." The mace-wielder said.
"Shut up, lets go." Snapped the other one. They grabbed their weapons and left.
You're welcome.
Jayla thought. She sat back down in front of the parchment, her concentration completely shattered.
Alchemists. ORCISH Alchemists. They're going to teach him alchemy so he can bring it back to his tribe, the next border skirmish will not be in our favor. Why would they agree to this?
She sighed, got up and took a swig of her brandy.
The next morning after a quick wash she went to deliver the finished request to the Master's office, only to pass Tharo on the way out the door, he was wearing a loose linen shirt, belt, leather pants and simple boots, it seemed strange after seeing him and most orcs showing a lot more skin. He nodded "Miss Thorntrail."
"Mister Stonehammer." She said, almost hitting the door on the way in, whether it was maneuvering around him, staring, or just that she was nervous already, she ended up stumbling into the Master's office.
"Miss Thorntrail." The School Master was a bald, gaunt man approaching his seventh decade. He immediately registered as a soldier, though diplomacy and language had been his areas when he was teaching. "Close the door." He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, eyebrows raised expectantly.
"Master Cooper, I am here to p..." He waved her quiet.
"I hear you ran into some trouble with Mr. Stonehammer." Taken aback, she'd had a speech ready, the interruption had her flustered.
"It was handled."
