by Erme Lander
He snorted. “Some of it is useful, a lot of it is crap.” She stared, so many books, how could they be rubbish? “Experience boy, is what you need and using what is between your ears. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. There is a family which tutors some boys of about your own age nearby. You will be taking lessons with them during the afternoons. I expect to hear nothing but good reports from your teachers. Most mornings you will be with the apprentice Medici, learning elementary skills at the palace. Two evenings a week, Gavin will teach you some rudimentary combat skills, more if you have an ability there. We will find your strengths and cater to them. Any questions?”
She hesitated, “I thought I was supposed to be your apprentice?”
Belindros laughed. “That ambitious already? Boy, you’ve not even started. I can’t teach you anything until you’ve got the basics.” He appraised her, making her squirm inside. “You will spend one morning a week in the examination rooms taking notes while I deal with my patients. The other morning you will follow me around the wards at the palace hospice. Satisfied?” She nodded.
“Gavin will take you up to the palace and introduce you, it’s up to you to get yourself there tomorrow. Again, I expect to hear nothing but praise from them. My last apprentice was foisted on me. Clung on like dog turd, smelt as bad too. Heard nothing but whinging from him. I don’t need to keep you, understand?” He peered hard at her.
“Yes Medici.” She understood. No parents to please, no need to keep her if she didn’t match his expectations.
“Good, now bugger off and find Gavin.”
She found Gavin waiting for her in the kitchen. Marta passed her an extra piece of bread and jam as she passed, saying something about boys and appetites. Mika noticed Gavin eyeing it as they walked and handed it over, she couldn’t have eaten anything else, her stomach was too tight.
Sensing her worry, Gavin strolled up the hill towards the palace, pointing out the sights and telling tall tales until the palace gates came into sight. He introduced her to the sergeant on duty as Belindros’ new apprentice. She tried to look intelligent and felt she’d failed when he merely grunted her through.
Gavin steered her on through the courtyard while she gaped. The keep was huge, it towered over the other buildings next to it. The doors were enormous, studded through with iron bolts. The scale was beyond anything she’d dreamed of. Her tiny country defied this? Mika had problems even thinking about going inside, let alone finding her father in there.
To her relief, she didn’t have to go inside, the hospice was to the side of the keep. A long low building with large windows and white washed walls. Inside it was fresh with an astringent smell assaulting her nostrils. She was met in the waiting room by an older boy wearing dark red robes. He took her name with a sober face and went to find the correct person.
Gavin cuffed her shoulder in a friendly way and left. A few other lads arrived while she waited. They peered at her from the corners of their eyes and she tried to ignore them as they scuffled around, poking and whispering. She noted their worn but decent boots and good quality clothing. These would be the servants of richer men, sent to pick up medicines. They quietened the minute the other boy reappeared.
“Through the curtain, turn right at the end of the corridor. Knock on the white door with Medici on it.” She nodded as he turned to the next boy in the line.
She pushed past the curtains and entered the dim corridor, the building was quiet here, the outside world muffled and far away. Mika’s insides were bouncing with nerves. She knocked at the door and entered.
A study, similar to Belindros’. A small man in the same green robes sat at the desk and smiled wearily at her. “You are Mikon.” His voice was soft and deeper than she expected. “I am Abran. I’ve had a message from Belindros about you. You will be working and learning here in the mornings. I do not tolerate any misdemeanours from my students. Any such behaviour is reported back to me and then to your sponsor, which in this case is Belindros. Do you understand?”
She nodded, was it a pre-requisite for all Medici to look as though they could see through her? “You do not have robes yet?” He sighed as she shook her head. “No doubt Belindros will sort them out for you. Come with me.”
He led her to another part of the hospital. Bottles of liquids on shelves, and cupboards covering the walls, chests on the floor. A table was covered in long creamy strips of fabric, twisted and knotted from washing.
“These need rolling.” He pulled a length out and swiftly rolled it, his fingers smoothing it into a neat bundle. “Sometimes a well rolled bandage can save someone’s life. It can be needed swiftly, with no creases in the material to irritate the wound. Small details are important here, they can add into larger problems if we do not pay attention.” She paid attention, his voice had fallen into a tone she recognised from the better of Kaylan’s tutors. He was teaching her something.
“Do you have any questions?”
“Who were the boys in the waiting room attached to?”
Abran smiled, “Mostly minor nobles and traders. The more important nobles have Medici attend them. The poorer people will go to the hospices further down in the city. The journeymen Medici attend to them as part of their training. You will do the same at some point.” The meaning was clear – if she got that far.
“But for the moment I roll bandages.”
“Yes, the small important things. Show me, how do you roll a bandage?” He blocked her hands with his arm as she reached for the bandages. “What have you forgotten?” Mika searched his face, looking for clues, had she failed already? He pointed to a tap coming out of the wall in the corner. “Wash your hands before you touch anything.”
“You didn’t.”
Amused by her pique, he picked up the bandage he’d rolled and dropped it on the floor. “Correct. Bandages that need to be washed go into the basket in the corridor. Soap is by the tap.” He watched as she put the discarded bandage into the basket and washed her hands.
He made several suggestions while she rolled the first few and then left her to deal with the huge pile. Her fingers grew tired as they pulled and tugged at the fabric. It was mind numbingly boring, her back ached with bending and she stretched, shifting her weight. She reminded herself that she’d escaped complete boredom in Fenin, she was going to be learning things and she had to prove herself to Belindros. The threat of being thrown out stuck with her through the morning.
Tears prickled her eyelids, everything had been happening so fast in the last few days. There’d been no time to think until now. They thought her father was responsible for the death of the trader. No mention of her. Her father was Cassai, it didn’t matter that he was the ambassador. Had that been why they hadn’t wanted her to go out in Fenin? Why Ardi had hated her? She decided that Ardi would have hated her whoever she was. She rolled with determination, tucking the bandages into the shallow trays as she’d been shown. The pile of bandages built up until she was pleasantly surprised to find she’d finished.
Mika stared around, unsure what to do next. Eventually, she peered out into the empty corridor and sneaked back into the waiting room. The boy was still there, carefully writing something down.
“I’ve finished the bandages. What should I do next?”
His face twisted, thinking, “Can you write?”
“Yes.”
“Rule up this sheet, then copy out this page.” He handed her a sheet of paper and showed her the book he’d been writing in. “Anyone who comes in, we write their names in here, what they want and how much.” Several lads arrived and left with medicines. She found it difficult with the strong city accent, different from the Fenin burr. The medicines were unfamiliar. A number of sounds changed how the letters were written down and she was dismayed at how many crossed out words she had on her sheet.
She was still writing when Abran came in. He blinked to find her in the waiting room. “You have finished the bandages?”
“I
didn’t want to disturb you sir.”
“I am Medici, not sir and you will disturb me next time.” The rebuke was gentle. He came to look over her shoulder. She winced at the mess on her paper.
“You are not used to writing our language. Ask when you are not sure, otherwise your hand is good. Carry on with Enos until lunchtime.”
She sighed with relief when he’d left. Enos pointed out the spellings each time when a boy came in after that. He encouraged her to ask the questions.
“What if they tell me the wrong things?”
Enos flicked a glance at her face, then her hair. “You are not a pauper here or a noble,” He hesitated, “Or Cassai. You are Medici.” A smile curled the side of his mouth, momentarily showing a mischief in his serious face. “The last page who deliberately gave the wrong information to a Medici apprentice spent a week on the privy. Word gets around.” Encouraged, she started asking the questions, finding that all they did was glance at Enos first, then reply civilly. Her legs were aching by the time a discreet bell rang for lunch.
Lunch was simple, but filling. Bread, a variety of cheeses and fruit. She discovered she was expected to have a strong stomach even while eating. One man read out symptoms from a book and apprentices raised their hands to answer the questions fired at them. The muted discussion under the eye of the journeyman Medici over the possible causes fascinated her, this was worth the hours rolling bandages. She kept her head down and listened hard.
Gavin appeared to take her to her next appointment. He laughed at her grumbling over her tired legs and her enthusiasm about the lunchtime discussion. When she started describing the various symptoms, he waved her away laughing, “No, I’ve learnt enough to keep me alive on the road. That sort of thing turns my stomach.” He pulled faces and she realised she had something to tease him back with.
They stopped in a street close to the keep. Again, Gavin introduced her and left. A servant regarded her, then inclined his head for her to follow. He opened a door further down the corridor, murmured something to the person inside and indicated she should go in.
A small room, nine students in rows sat looking at her, with a shock she realised two of them were girls. They were all typical Ackbarr stock, dusky skin and darker hair. The deep brown eyes of the girls looked exotic to her. She felt very conscious of her pale hair and foreignness. She jumped as the tutor spoke and a chuckle ran through the class, making her flush.
“This is Mikon, he is Belindros’ new apprentice. Treat him nicely, you may be needing his attentions at some point and no Tabat, not for any of the sexual diseases you intend catching in the near future.”
Another soft laugh ran around the class and Mika sat at the spare desk indicated. She quickly found her history was lacking. Her brother had been taught Cassai history and he’d hated the subject, so she’d spent little time learning it. She was given a huge book to read and take notes from.
Again, she was involved in listening, so much to learn. This was better than she’d dared to dream of, she wouldn’t have got this education in Cassai. Boys were lucky Mika decided, although remembering her brother’s grumblings she didn’t think they appreciated it. She was delighted to find that whilst the others gave the tutor as good as they got, they were still polite, making intelligent guesses when they weren’t sure of the answers. She stumbled through a number of questions based on her reading and although there were a few grins, nothing more was said.
When Gavin came to pick her up late that afternoon, Mika was in a haze of exhaustion, her head spinning with information. He tucked her book under his arm and reminded her that she had a practice with him later. At her protests, he simply pointed out that he was following Belindros’ orders. She closed her mouth quickly, she couldn’t let this beat her.
An hour after supper, she was regretting everything. She felt as though Gavin was slapping her around the courtyard for entertainment. He wasn’t even hitting hard, just touching. She couldn’t block him, couldn’t stop him from tripping her up. She tried to remember the various throws and punches she’d picked up from Kaylan, but her body was tired and out of practice. The months of forced confinement showed and Gavin’s style was nothing like she’d learnt from her brother.
It wasn’t helped by the guards ranged around the walls, watching and passing comments. She doggedly put her head down and kept going, swallowing the humiliation. Eventually Gavin gave up, muttering that he’d had more of a fight with a five year old. She staggered upstairs to her bed and fell asleep with her clothes on.
Chapter 10
To Mika’s delight she was given several change of clothes, including the Medici robes. Belindros wore dark green, hers were apprentice red. The older, more tattered robes were for the palace hospice and she had a new set for special occasions. She’d noticed most of the apprentice’s robes were worn in places, but all had short sleeves, coming only to the elbow. Only the new set had the wide sleeves coming down to her wrists.
When she’d shyly asked Marta the reason why, Marta had laughed and said that the Medici had become fed up with the apprentices dipping their sleeves into everything and had cut them off. Mika loved the feeling of walking around in her robes, making her feel equal to the nobles in her tutor group. As Enos had said, people saw her clothing, not her features and pale hair. There was a muted respect in the locals eyes and they began to call greetings when she walked up with Gavin and the other guardsmen for their own training schedules. After a few days at the hospice, she was added to the roll call for Medici apprentice duties early in the morning.
Once a week, a journeyman Medici would teach the newer apprentices to make sure they were learning and adding to their knowledge. On the other mornings, Mika followed Enos around, holding bedpans, bandages and fetching simple things. Whilst he wasn’t the brightest of students, being the fourth son of a very minor noble, Enos was desperate to prove himself.
He rolled his eyes as yet another member of his family left them, having picked his brains for a minor ailment. His family made the other apprentices laugh, constantly calling on him rather than the journeymen Medici down in the city. Even Abran appeared to tolerate them with amusement, sending them to Enos in his breaks. When Mika asked about them coming to see him, he explained his other option had been joining the priesthood.
Enos looked disgusted, “At least I’ll get the chance to kiss girls as a Medici.” His father had persuaded a low ranking Medici to sponsor him after Enos had protested against becoming a priest. She laughed with him and he told her that what he really wanted to do was travel. “You can be on the move constantly, new people, places every day.” His eyes shone at the idea of finally getting away from his family.
If Enos’ teaching was slow and exactingly correct, her mornings with Belindros were entirely different. She watched with fascination his technique with patients, his acerbic tongue tamed as he reassured them, exuding a calm confidence. He was constantly talking and explaining while she sat and made notes in the corner. She was expected to notice everything and would be quizzed afterwards. He wanted to know about the patients, what they were wearing, how he had responded to their symptoms and why. She realised at one point how lucky she was, his enthusiasm overflowed when teaching and no question was ever too daft not to answer.
On her first day off Mika found a tailor willing to sell her several corsets for her ‘sister’. These she modified to strap her breasts flat and felt thankful they weren’t big. She wondered when her bleeding would start again and bought bandages in anticipation. These she figured she could wash without too much bother. She was in a Medici’s household after all, bloody bandages were a fact of life. She learnt to strip wash in her room, avoiding the bathhouse. Gavin at points offered to take her out and “make a man of her”. He chuckled at her refusal, assuming shyness.
Mika’s days blurred into each other, trotting from palace to tutor room, the guards at the keep nodding her through without comment. She became used to the size of the vast complex, finding her wa
y around and ignored the keep towering over her.
She began to distinguish between the other boys she learnt with in the afternoons. Rufus was the natural leader of the group, confident and secure in his position. Tabat was the clown, she’d noticed most of the tutor’s comments were aimed in his direction. Lissina’s father owned the house they learnt in, Jenna her friend. They were all wary of Mika to began with, not ignoring her, but cool. It helped once she was in Medici robes and they discovered whose apprentice she was. They were too well bred to exclude her openly, however she was not included in the outings they spoke about amongst themselves.
The teachers were broad-minded when it came to the girls sharing the lessons. In fact, the two girls shared all the lessons. She could see why her father had tolerated her learning with Kaylan, he would have seen the noblemen’s daughters here. They were expected to be able to defend and deal with their husband’s estates while they were away and needed to be taught so, much to the surprise to the boys who obviously hadn’t thought about the capabilities of their mothers. Mika had a pang of regret, she would have enjoyed laughing and learning with them as a girl. Crossbows were Jenna’s speciality, everyone ducked or got out of the way when she picked one up, the look in her eye said it all. Even Jenna smiled when the tutors made comments about her future husband treating her with care.
As one of the teachers had said, “Right gentlemen, I’ve heard you muttering. So, why do we have the young ladies in the strategy sessions? Why not just let them get on with the needlework like the rest of the girls in the city?” He stared around the group and they hushed in anticipated delight. “Why? Because young Rufus, when you are married to one of them and are between their legs, you want them to be giving you good advice. Presuming first of course, you are listening and second that you will have got between their legs in the first place.” Mika joined in the laughter, watching how the boys reacted, their body language, how they sat and imitated them.