“What do you mean you can’t? It’s not that complicated, just go out there and look for trees with moss growing on them!”

At this point, the somewhat aggressive conversation between Gale and his new assistant was the talk of the camp. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was at his breaking point, and his voice came out a bit higher than he wished, but during the day it was usually very quiet inside camp. The few people that were still walking around were either too tired or kept their conversations to a minimum. So it wasn’t abnormal that everyone in close proximity heard every bit of detail the two talked about in the past few minutes.

It wasn’t ideal that he also found himself sitting on a three legged chair outside, trying to make the best use of the small plank on two logs that these savages called a table.

The deal was set this morning, and he managed to avoid disclosing too much information about his abilities, yet he couldn’t help but regret not being more specific about his requests.

First of all, the “table” he received was nothing more than an unreliable piece of wood that someone hammered together with two nails in the exact amount of time that it took some other bloke to bring a chair missing a leg. Of course, he wasn’t expecting royal treatment, but how was he supposed to be working under these conditions!

The worst part about it all was his living quarters. Or, what he later in the day found out, was nothing more than a small blanket held up by a stick and covered in leaves. It seemed like the need for privacy was completely lost on that bloody woman.

And now, to top it all off, he just found out that his pretty new assistant couldn’t even leave camp to help him with picking herbs and roots. Then what was the point in having an assistant in the first place?

On the other hand, the petite assistant was out of her league as she didn’t know what to expect when Miss Alicia asked her to help the young man out with his research, and she certainly didn’t understand why, out of everyone else in camp, she was chosen for this responsibility.

Shy received her name on her fifth birthday, as per tradition, and her mother found it more than fitting for her silent and, obviously, shy nature. Her unique light red hair, bordering towards pink and overall good looks made it so a number of intimidating children of her age trying to get close to her further amplified her lonesome personality.

She was, however, lucky enough to encounter Miss Alicia shortly after her parent’s death. Shy was immediately impressed by the confidence and determination the older woman carried around and she soon became both a goal and role model for the young girl.

“So, are you just going to stand there, or do you plan to make yourself useful sometime?” Gale asked, slightly irritated.

The girl quickly snapped out of her daydreaming, but by now he already gave up on her help and was getting up, struggling to lift his body using a sturdy stick he asked the girl to fetch him earlier. Refusing any form of help from Shy, he quickly found his footing and limped his way towards Alicia’s tent with the slightly discouraged girl following him a few paces behind.

Losing what little shred of patience he had left, he barged into her tent and sat himself on the much more comfortable chair that his capturer was keeping all to herself.

“I asked for an assistant, not a pet!” he half yelled his thoughts at Alice, who was propped on the table with a cup of the medicine in her hand. Gale suddenly grabbed it and took only a few tentative sniffs, gagging and quickly throwing it away, contents and all through the still open flap, barely missing Shy as she was waiting outside quietly.

“Now that was uncalled for.” she said dejectedly as her only good cup was now lying in the dirt outside. “And last I checked, she’s a very dependable human being, not a pet. You wanted someone that can cook and sew, now get her to cook and sew and convince me to at least consider YOU as a pet and not a nuisance.” she replied, annoyed at his attitude.

Gale quickly calmed himself and made sure not to have any more outbursts. “As for this disgusting drink you keep chugging down like milk, it doesn’t do anything more than hide your symptoms and make you groggy, so stop drinking that shit. Baleroot gives you mild hallucinations, and the last thing I need is you doing something stupid while you’re in a less than ideal mental state.”

With a slight frown and a new piece of information in her mind, Alicia took the now empty cup that Shy was holding out from behind the flaps and placed it on the table next to her, somewhat regretting relying on folk medicine. “Thank you dear.” she quickly sat back on her spot and stared him in the eyes “Now, what’s the real problem?”

“The girl needs to go out and find me some ingredients. Can’t make you anything if I have nothing to make it out of.” he tiredly replied, slowly rubbing the edge of his stump in a hope to numb the pain a bit more.

“Nobody leaves camp other than scouts and hunters. The forest is full of things that could rip your throat before you even realise the mistake you’re making by going around the woods alone. But I’m willing to compromise. I’ll send one of the hunters your way and you can tell him what you’ll need. I’m sure you’ll get your greenery around midday tomorrow.” She couldn’t help but notice the new patches of blood around his stump during their conversation, and Gale’s empty and lifeless gaze “Maybe you should have taken a sip yourself before throwing it out of my tent.”

With a heavy frown and increased discomfort, he picked up his stick and left without saying another word.

True to her word, an older man came to his small workplace next to his “tent” and asked for what Gale was looking for. He gave him clear descriptions of several plants that he needed urgently and a few more that would prove useful if found by chance. The discussion was kept short and professional.

Gale cleaned up his equipment, throwing one of the few blankets he received over the table, while Shy was kind enough to bring him dinner just before she excused herself for the rest of the day.

After quickly eating the surprisingly tasty bean soup, he sat down and tried to get some sleep, inwardly yelling his lungs out at the amount of pain he was under from his missing leg and the throbbing headache his missing eye gave him. He expected to have at least gotten rid of the pain by now, but the most he could do was pray that he would get his herbs before the wound decided to get infected. He wasn’t under any real danger of dying anytime soon, but he would much rather not have to use one of his last resort options to keep himself alive if he could help it, especially the misunderstandings that his solutions may bring up.

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Of course, that’s hoping his wounds weren't already infected.

The next day came with a bang, his headache becoming much worse overnight.

Having slept for the entire night and most of the morning, he was woken up by Shy around midday just as he had instructed, when the hunter had come back from his daily routine and luckily found little of everything he figured grew in these parts of the woods.

Along with a small shopping list of a few cooking ingredients he asked his assistant to bring today, he now had a decent batch of supplies and quickly got to work.

The produce he received was of low quality, only ingredients useful for lower end medicine. He set down the greenery and, like every physician that respected his profession, started taking inventory on what he had, what he could make and what he would need in the future.

Asking his assistant to bring him a bucket of water and one of each cutlery she could find, he got to work grinding Screech Root and Faygrass on one side of the table using a small smooth rock he found yesterday. The result was a jumbled green mess, with a lot of wasted product, but it would have to do until he could get his hands on more useful instruments.

Once Shy came back with water, he poured half a cup and gently measured how much salt he should add to the mixture using a tablespoon. Once satisfied, he mixed the greenery and water together until a very thin, purple substance was made. If Shy didn’t know better, she would have thought it was grape juice mixed with water.

It was a poor-man’s painkiller, but it would help him focus so Gale gulped down half a mouthful of the substance and started working on sorting out his workplace, taking another sip from the cup every few minutes.

Soon, he was lost in his work making and trying out different mixtures and combinations of plants, berries, roots and sticks, occasionally sampling or outright drinking some of them. Only once did he take a break when he opened up his small book and scribbled down something with a piece of charcoal in it.

Shy took note of his every move, but she wasn’t entirely sure what to follow as Alicia had instructed her to make sure he wasn’t planning on doing anything stupid.

By dinner time, he was done with his work and his bored assistant left to get food for them both, but his mood was nowhere near improved. Sure, his throbbing headache had temporarily stopped, but the fact of the matter was, two days were almost up.

It was hardly fair that he got such a short amount of time to work, but he couldn’t protest much when his other option was being thrown out or hanged. Maybe something even more barbaric like beheading.

He was tired and hurting, and his mind wasn’t really working as well as his potential allowed.

As if on queue, Alicia made her appearance and seemed somewhat eager to arrive, with a slight skip in her step. Groaning slightly, he turned around to face her fully as she sat down on the log Shy was using as a chair while he worked.

“So? Tomorrow morning’s your deadline. Got anything good for me?” she spoke quickly.

Gale picked up one of the three cups that he prepared beforehand and gave her a grey looking mulch. “Drink this.” he said.

“What is it?” she asked, not entirely eager to be the guinea pig.

“It’s something for your cold. Drink this three days in a row and you will feel better, though I don’t have any more than this until I get more ingredients.” he said, turning around to sort through his belongings.

“No, sorry. I mean what’s it made of?” taking a sniff of the odd coloured liquid she frowned heavily. If the smell was anything to go by, this would taste horrible.

“Screech Root for headaches, Hasil for fever, Cryme so you can digest everything, and a few other things to help with your sickness.” Gale explained, dipping a finger in the cup and sucking on it afterwards to prove it’s safe to drink.

Taking a deep breath she drank as fast as possible, praying for the after-taste to be somewhat manageable. It wasn’t. “So, what else do you have there?” she asked, holding in her gag reflex.

“Nothing worth your time, unless you have a slight stomach ache or stuffy nose.” he replied a bit reluctantly. “I don’t mean to be rude but you didn’t give me much time to work with.”

“That’s all? I don’t even know if this thing you gave me will do anything. By the time it should take effect I could just get better by myself!” she yelled, outraged.

Predictable. How was he supposed to make anything useful when all he got were a few scraps, most of which didn’t even go together.

But if he would express these thoughts, those were nothing more than excuses in the eyes of someone that had no idea how hard it was to put two things together and make something.

Honestly, he had hoped that the cold medicine he gave her would at least convince her without any more hassle. It seems people have less understanding on how things work in this profession and these country bumpkins couldn’t even comprehend the importance of time.

“You can hardly expect me to get results when all I’m getting is a pile of garbage to work with. At the very least you could have spared me a fucking tent while I’m bleeding to death!” he yelled back, frustrated.

Alicia on her part did not manage yelling sessions well, and while she knew that and often avoided making a scene, she was feeling rather under the weather herself, so her mind did not take kindly to it. With a flinch of her brow and a raise of her hand she smacked Gale across the face with all the power she could muster.

In the eyes of a neutral observer this may seem like a rather excessive move - and it was. He was nothing more than a broken man at the end of his ropes and she was trying to pull water from a dried up lake.

Alicia picked him up by the collar and raised him on his leg, keeping him propped up with her adrenaline induced rage.

In her mind, she was justified in her actions simply by the difference in their situations. She was their leader, and they looked up to her, had respect for her and her actions represented their accumulated consent. Yet out of the few people in the crowd, there was one that found a new sort of respect, not only for the leader, but also for the hard working and suffering man squirming in her clutches.

“Miss Warwick.” Shy gently whispered while placing her hand on her shoulder.

Alicia turned and they both looked at each other for more than a few good seconds, almost in a voiceless conversation. She let him go by unceremoniously dropping him on the ground, turning around and leaving without saying another word, b-lining to her tent.

“You know, you may not be such a bad assistant after all.” he commented as Shy was helping him get back on his chair.

He received a curt smile from her as she hurried to grab the rest of the drinks he had prepared for Alicia and went to catch up with her mistress.