Chapter 36: Speculations and A Motivational Speech (Part 2)

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I quicken my steps as I near my destination—the Galennus Workhouse. Usually, around this time, I would be practicing lute with Sir Isaac. I'd been hastily assigned to be under Sir Evan's tutelage for the time being, after the old knight was rendered temporarily bedridden. Fortunately I had the good sense to ask permission from Sir Evan to give me one afternoon off to recuperate. I think the head of the Knights of Elder sensed what I wanted to do during my spare time, and softened his heart to let me off easy.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a certain Sir Isaac?" I asks the Galennus working at the reception area. She takes her glasses off, polishes it, coughs into the lenses, polishes it again, and puts it on; before deigning to check through the list of patients they have.

"He's been transferred into the common wards." She jabs a pencil towards a hallway on my left. "Go straight down there and take the first right turn. The common wards is the largest room we have. You can't miss it."

"My thanks, good Galennus." I give a quick bow and almost sprint towards the direction she pointed at. Sure enough, I find the common wards easily. The Galennus wasn't exaggerating when she said that it was the largest room they had.

With the width of almost three fallen oaks, the length of thousands of snakes arranged in a single line, and the height of a towering yew, it almost puts the dining hall—which is capable of seating up to a few hundred at a time—to shame. Rows upon rows of sickbeds are neatly arranged in undulating rows; pristine white sheets overlay the mattresses, lending a freshness to the atmosphere. At the moment, I count fifty-six patients groaning on separate beds, a fairly high number of casualties during peacetime. Yet the room seems sparsely populated, perhaps due to the fact that everything and everyone is so scattered around the area.

I stop a young assistant girl, who is balancing a tray of good strong tea on her hands. "My apologies for interrupting your work, but where can I find Sir Isaac?" The Galenni who work here are forced to memorise the names of every single patient in their grounds, just so that visitors can be easily directed when needed. A precious piece of information Father had divulged to me for no apparent reason.

"Third row, down centre," she replies briefly. She then rushes off with a blush creeping up her neck, not giving me a chance to thank her.

I shake my head as I follow her directions. Once again, the Galenni prove themselves to be highly reliable—I spot Sir Isaac with no noticeable difficulty. His eyes are wide open, and he's scolding a boy about his tea being too cold, making the apprentice red around the ears. A hint of a smile tinges my lips. Injured or no, it seems like the old knight would never give up his signature grumpiness.

"Sir Isaac," I greet him as I approach the bed. The knight's eyes bulge out in surprise, almost like a toad's. I stifle a laugh at the comparison. "I've come to see you."

"Well," he sniffs, "at least you didn't say 'I've come to pay my respects to you', unlike those who visited me this morning. Who said anything about me being dead? Damn the bastards! They just wanted to make my heart pound in furious excitement."

"I'm sure that they meant it in a jesting manner, sir," I say, rather worried at the knight's agitated veins drawn along his forehead.

"Of course I know that they were jesting," he snorts. "What do you think I am? Deaf and dumb? At least they brought a few gifts for me." He gestures at a handbasket lying on the table beside his bed. "Mostly imported food. So happened to be market day today, I think. Can't be sure when you never hardly leave the castle walls and have an aging memory like mine."

"My apologies, sir." I don't know what else I should say.

"For my age? Or for not bearing any gifts with your coming?" He waves an impatient hand. "It's no matter. I don't have the time—nor the strength—to care for all this nonsense anyway."

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