The Grand Fleet sailed on the Curve of Saraa. Between the voyage to the Curve, and the anchoring on the Marcan Coastlines. Gabrio was tending to the patients who was wounded by the destruction of Old Carthan. Thousands of civilians dead. Possibly numbering millions if none had survived. The cause of their death was not the explosion or implosion, but it could be the heat released by the cosmic event. A heat that was enough to turn the bay of Old Carthan into a salty desert. The ones that were on the clinic was the carpenters and caulkers who was close to the event.
It was better than having their skin burnt, and then bathed with salt that rained from that event. He had to inject four people with a poison that killed their nerves while treating the wounded. They were far too gone and he did not have the technology to save them.
Although the Grand Fleet left the Bays of Old Carthan. They did not head to the Thousand Islands yet. The fleet marooned on the Marcan Coastlines, waiting for any news about what had happened. Among the ones who responded to the banner call to the mainland. Was the long-eared scouts who happened to be near the Elder Trees. They climbed aboard the Milostiv and had reported to the Lady the event that happened.
Even the forest of Marcan that contained the Elder Trees was not safe. These scours reported that the bark of the elder trees was burnt to ashes. While those who had homes inside the trees got swallowed by that explosion and implosion. Their bodies mangled and imploded from the inside.
Gabrio climbed the topside to attend the patients. The Lady had done everything to help them with her spells yet they were still suffering. Gabrio had examined the Elven. His practiced examination of the Elven had him given a cold glare from the Lady of the ship. Gabrio felt lost as he diagnosed the elven. They were far too gone. Internal bleeding in their organs, and most of their bones broken. If it wasn't for their precious blood and physique, they would have died already.
"I cannot help them, Milady," Gabrio said. "I can only relieve them from their suffering."
Gabrio produced his syringe and round-bottomed flasks. He maintained his Physician's face while staring at the Lady's blank stare. Fury rose on the face of the Lady before something cold came and washed it away.
"Go and do your duties, Doctor."
Gabrio nodded. He searched for the vein on the neck of the elven. Putting them one by one. The Elven moans became a whisper, and their eyes rolled white.
The Scouts who came with the elven became protective of the bodies of their comrades. Gabrio took a step away, on his hand was a piece of hair and a skin sample he peeled from the burnt body of the elven. That was all he could get as the elven took the bodies away. Back to the mainland to be turned into Elder Trees.
Gabrio returned to the clinic to tend to the wounds of the patients. He had been stitching those who had gashes when someone who he recently mended returned. Shirt bloody and was hoping to be stitch back again. Gabrio almost wanted to punch that man. Wiles helped in calming Gabrio down, while Zyra cursed at the man like a sailor.
"Any more foolishness then you can find another one to sew your wounds! Do you get what I am saying here!?"
That had been enough to make them think twice about messing up their wounds. The patients who had nothing to do with that man was staring at that man with a bloody shirt. Their eyes told Gabrio that they were cursing the man as well.
Gabrio snorted. "I will not tolerate any more foolish actions. Is that understood?"
Everyone nodded at his words. After settling the wounds of the patients. Gabrio seated himself in the operating room of the clinic. He was drinking his flask of wine and leaned on the table.
Zyra was on the side of the room, smoking her pipe, and inspecting her surgeon's robe spotted with blood.
“Did they assigned someone to wash our robes?”
"I don't know," Gabrio said.
"I see," she tapped her pipe on the mouth of a clay bowl. "Wiles, tell them that we need a wash-lady! I don't want a plague happening inside this Galleon!
Wiles left to search for anyone that might become the wash-lady of the clinic. With Wiles gone, Zyra took her leather gloves, placed it on the table where the clay bowl was. She produced a cloud of smoke as she wiped her hands on her thighs.
Gabrio took a sip of his flask.
"Do you have anyone in Old Carthan?" Zyra asked between puffs.
"None. I only recently became a Frontiersmen. But I did have a few friends."
"Worried about them? What about a lover?"
"I am. I had no lover in Old Carthan."
She nodded. Zyra didn't say anything for a few minutes. There was only the drinking and the smoking happening inside the surgery room. Gabrio felt exhausted. The face of those who he injected with that lethal syringe appeared inside his head.
"Had anyone from Old Carthan?" Gabrio asked.
"None. I came from Accad, remember?"
"Got anyone in Accad that might miss you?"
"A few admirers and friends. I stayed clear of them the moment I thought of joining this fleet."
Gabrio nodded.
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After a time the door was flung open. Wiles returned with a fair young woman with him. She had brown braided hair that rested on her left breast. Her face had freckles around the bridge of her nose. She was staring at Gabrio and Zyra with her fingers joined.
“You want to be our wash-lady?” Zyra said.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Your name?”
“Millie, Ma’am.”
“Hmm,” she sized her up and down. “Do you have any prior positions in this before you decide to become a wash-lady for us??”
“I am here with my cousin, she’s a dishwasher on the bar.”
Zyra returned to Gabrio. “We have a bar?”
“This is a big Galleon. And they wanted a place where the soldiers can stay without bothering the sailors and the crew."
Zyra hissed, tapped her pipe on the clay bowl, then folded her arms. “You had no work? You do understand that I am asking you to wash over our bloody robes, gloves, and equipment. I’ll tutor you in making sure that you could assist us. Humph, you look smart enough. I'' ll turn you become an assistant instead.”
"So,” Gabrio said, “you want to make her your assistant?”
“Why not? This will be a long journey so might as well take one. Besides, between you and Wiles. I don't want to forget that I am a woman. So I want someone to act as my assistant. I need someone to talk to other than you two. Besides, she looked like she could take it. Can you take it?”
"I can, Ma'am!" she beamed.
“Somehow I doubt that,” that slipped off his tongue.
She caught it, glared at him.
“Relax,” Gabrio opted to compliment her. “You still look beautiful, despite the blood and venomous tongue. Talking to us all the time won't turn you into a man, Zyra”
"Thank you for that, " she widened her eyes and puffed a cloud of smoke. "You make my heart flutter."
Gabrio shrugged. A cloud of smoke then hit him on the face. She was grinning while asking Millie questions. The girl called Millie seemed eager so Gabrio didn't pry any further. It was her choice after all. Besides, she was a lucky girl to had someone teach her to become a surgeon. And only for the price of washing the bloody robes of the clinic.
Some time went by, and Gabrio walked inside the office of the Inquisitor of the Galleon. On the chair behind the desk was Inquisitor Cooper Ackie. A tall man with broad shoulders. He had a soldier's haircut. His shoulder cape had the symbol of the United Continent of Aon on the left of his shoulder. His long fingers were on the roll that Gabrio had been writing. It was the list of patients that he kept as a record.
"It looks like we got a few casualties, Doctor. Were the wounds severe that you have to put them down?"
"It was," Gabrio said. "Their salted wounds were making them suffer. To treat them would be costly and if I do. Then we would have to waste our supplies on them."
"Good thinking," the Inquisitor said. "It seemed like the surgeon helped."
"Surgeon Zyra is a master of needlework, Inquisitor."
"I hope that the patients aren't causing you trouble? Do you wish to have some of my constables to help in keeping order?"
"No," Gabrio said. "We can manage with Wiles around. I had reported that we have someone assisting us as well."
"I heard that she took an apprentice. I have no complaints about what the Surgeon does. Have you taken one?"
"I am thinking of taking Wiles as an apprentice."
"Good," Inquisitor Ackie brushed his fingers on the roll of paper. He stopped on one of the names. Gabrio looked over.
"You killed them with a lethal injection?"
"I did."
"They couldn't be saved?"
"I had hoped they could be. But I am unable to do."
"I will trust your word, Doctor."
He leaned on the back of his hair. "The United People of Aon had suffered a devastating act from the world itself. Reports had said that the damage would have been worst if our Elven neighbors didn't help in this Salt Spate. Even so, we must keep on moving forward. We must bring hope by continuing. You can go now, Doctor."
"Understood," Gabrio left the office of the Inquisitor.
Gabrio returned to the clinic. He was welcomed by the sight of the patients groaning on their beds. Gabrio signaled Zyra with her middle, ring, and little finger. She then replied with four fingers pointed at the patients which meant 'get back to work.'
Wiles carried a rifle slung around his shoulder. He was watching the clinic. Millie, the new member of the clinic, was doing well despite being a former dishwasher. Gabrio expected her face to crumble at the sight of blood and wounds. But she stood without worry worrying about it.
It was then that a hand almost slapped Millie's buttocks. Zyra brandished her scalpel to the one who did it. His eyes widened as blood zigzagged on his nose. He wore a uniform.
"Do that again and I will have you killed. Do that to the wenches, not those who might save you when you're wounded. Do you understand that, Soldier?"
"I, forgive me," he paled.
Gabrio assumed that he knew Millie. Wiles was not tolerating any jokes. His rifle was already pointed at the soldier. Gabrio raised a hand. He gestured for the soldier and asked him to go after apologizing to Millie. It was easy to throw him out immediately. Before the soldier left. Gabrio had him understand that the clinic was under the protection of the Inquisitor. Any actions that displease the clinic would reach the Inquisitor's office. Gabrio wanted him to spread that to anyone foolish enough to do that again.
With the soldier gone from the clinic, Gabrio had every patient keep quiet in their beds. The clinic itself was as big as four rooms and have many beds to accommodate the wounded. If there was any complaint that Gabrio had. It was where the clinic was in the Galleon.
With the patients rested, Zyra took the time to smoke again. Not only that she smokes, but she also was fond of chewing tobacco. Gabrio felt a vein popped on his head as he heard her chew.
"You consume too much tobacco."
"I know. We should have Wiles take a short trip to buy some."
"Zyra, I am surprised that your teeth still haven't rotted."
"Bah, who cares? It's rare for a surgeon to have good teeth. At least in Accad, it was rare. Not like I'd be needing them when doing surgery."
"You have a point," Gabrio rested his head. "At least don't chew too loud. Will that be okay?"
"Oh, you're worried about that," she said. "Fine, I'll try to keep it quiet. This is hard to chew you know?"
Gabrio ignored her. He thought about the mainland. He started to wonder what was happening.