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45. Medic

45. Medic

As the afternoon sun cast its golden glow over Quyaz, I gathered my core team: Sora, Silvana, Leon, and Nathanos, and asked them to come with me for a brief conversation. I saw Timothy, who had come forward with a look of concern etched on his face. He’d suffered a great deal in our last battle, losing his arm. The sight of him approaching stirred a mixture of pride and sadness within me. Timothy was a good fighter, and the courage he’d shown, despite his severe injury, had strengthened our ranks in both spirit and unity. I wasn’t sure how he would take the news of the Sultan’s proposition, but seeing the way he approached, I sensed he wanted to discuss something of his own.

"Augustus," Timothy began, lowering his gaze. “I wanted to say I’m grateful for the care I've received so far, especially after losing my arm. But… well, I’m not sure if I can keep fighting like this.” He swallowed hard, looking around at the others, who watched him with sympathy. “I don’t want to be a burden to the group. My mind’s willing, but this injury has put a question mark on my usefulness in combat.”

I could see the vulnerability in his eyes. "Timothy," I said, stepping forward and putting a hand on his shoulder, "you’ve been a loyal fighter and a friend. You’ve more than earned your place in Nova, and there’s no need to worry about pay. You’ve lost something vital in the line of duty. I don’t take that lightly.”

A brief, humble smile crept across his face as I continued, "Focus on healing. Explore other skills—maybe strategy, coordination, or even training recruits. There are so many ways you can strengthen our group without being on the frontlines."

Timothy straightened a bit, the burden of doubt lifting from his posture. "Thank you, Augustus. I’ll do whatever I can to support you. I might even surprise myself," he added with a smile, one that was both grateful and genuine.

With Timothy’s mind put at ease, I turned to the others. "As some of you may have heard, I’ve secured lodging within the Governor’s palace for some of us. Sora, Silvana, Timothy, and the children—given the safety and the care offered in the palace, you’ll be staying there."

The news brought quiet excitement to everyone, particularly Timothy and Silvana. Sharing a roof with the Sultan himself felt like an honor, even if it was temporary. Knowing the Sultan was prioritizing their comfort and care boosted everyone’s morale, a much-needed reprieve after weeks of rugged travel and battle.

Once we’d decided the arrangements, I added, “The rest of us will find a place in one of the inns Sora already bargained for, but before we separate for the night, I think a small celebration is in order. We've made it to Aserai lands, we've secured a contract with the Sultan, and everyone here has earned a night of reprieve."

The crew’s spirits soared at the mention of a celebration. We all knew that moments like these were rare—times to forget our scars and simply enjoy the victory. After everyone departed for the palace, I led the rest of our group toward the nearest tavern. It was a humble place, its dark wooden walls and simple decor cast in the soft orange glow of lanterns. The faint, warm scent of spiced meats mixed with the subtle tang of strong ale as we entered, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a calm settle over me.

I ordered drinks for everyone, and we settled into a corner table. The sound of laughter filled the air, not just from my group but from other mercenaries and travelers who had found themselves in the heart of the Aserai lands. Leon, in particular, was in high spirits, regaling us with exaggerated tales from his training days, his loud laughter infectious to the whole group.

Stolen novel; please report.

As we found a table and settled in, my eyes caught a lone woman seated a few tables away, nursing her drink with a certain air of frustration. She looked rough around the edges, her dark hair framing a face that had seen its fair share of struggles. Her gaze wandered occasionally around the room, a mix of curiosity and caution evident. Intrigued, I approached her, weaving my way through the crowded tables until I stood before her.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked, offering a friendly nod.

She looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly before she gestured to the empty seat. “Be my guest,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

As I sat down, I introduced myself, and she responded, “Name’s Abda. Used to run a little medicine shop up north in Qasira. Not that it matters now.”

The bitterness in her voice piqued my curiosity. “Qasira? That’s quite a distance. What brought you all the way to Quyaz?”

She gave a rueful smile, her fingers tapping lightly on the edge of her cup. “Rival merchants brought me here—or rather, they pushed me out. I was building a steady business in Qasira and even had a good number of customers. But apparently, I was stepping on the wrong toes. The competition didn’t like losing customers to my medicines, so… they decided to end the problem permanently.” She paused, her gaze drifting as if recalling the memory. “One night, I returned to find my shop a pile of ashes. I lost everything.”

Hearing this, I felt a surge of anger on her behalf. “That's awful. And you have no place to go now?”

She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Nowhere. I had a skill set that kept me afloat, and now I’m just another displaced soul in Quyaz.”

As we continued talking, Abda revealed her extensive knowledge of herbs, treatments, and wound care—skills that would be invaluable for any group, especially a mercenary one like ours. Realizing the importance of having a skilled medic, I decided to make her an offer. “Listen, Abda. I’m leading a mercenary group, and it sounds like we could use someone with your expertise. Having a capable healer in our ranks could make a real difference. If you’re interested, I can offer you fifteen denars a day to join us. Not the most glamorous life, but we look after our own.”

She studied me, a spark of interest flickering in her eyes as she weighed the proposition. “You’re offering me ten denars a day, just like that?” Earlier she was only paid when there was a need for a healer which would make her income unpredictable also Even after taking care of a patient and applying medicines there was a chance that the patient would die which would result in no pay for her.

I nodded. “Just like that. You’ve got valuable skills, and we’re in need of them. This could be a fresh start for you, a place where you’re valued for what you can bring to the team.”

After a moment, she extended her hand, a faint smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Alright, Augustus. You’ve got yourself a healer.”

I shook her hand, sealing the deal. “Welcome to Nova, Abda. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

As we returned to the table, I introduced Abda to the rest of the group, who greeted her with enthusiasm, glad to have a skilled medic among us. The news of her joining brought a sense of reassurance.

The celebration carried on with a renewed vigor. Abda fit in seamlessly, sharing stories of her time in Qasira, her experience with herbs, and even her knowledge of some rather unconventional treatments that earned her a few raised eyebrows and chuckles. By the time the tavern was quieting down, I knew that Abda’s addition would strengthen our group and provide us with much-needed medical expertise.

When we finally left the tavern, the cool night air greeted us, wrapping around us as we walked back to our lodgings. With Abda now part of Nova, I felt a renewed confidence. The road ahead in Aserai lands would undoubtedly hold its share of challenges, but with companions like these, I was ready to face whatever came our way.