Orc Brute: A Monster Romance Celeste

King
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 ORC BRUTE

CELESTE KING
 Copyright © 2024 by Celeste King

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 DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to Kaylee, Emily, Taylor, Jordon, Melanie, Jamie, Jennifer, Hannah, Donna and the whole “Project
Protheka” family. Thanks for believing in the world.
 CONTENTS
Books in The World of Protheka
The World of Protheka
1. Abishek
2. Kirsten
3. Abishek
4. Kirsten
5. Abishek
6. Kirsten
7. Abishek
8. Kirsten
9. Abishek
10. Kirsten
11. Abishek
12. Kirsten
13. Abishek
14. Kirsten
15. Abishek
16. Kirsten
17. Kirsten
18. Abishek
19. Kirsten
20. Abishek
21. Kirsten
22. Abishek
23. Kirsten
24. Abishek
25. Kirsten
26. Abishek
27. Kirsten
28. Abishek
29. Kirsten
30. Abishek
31. Kirsten
32. Zenaida
Preview of Brutal Orc Warrior
Uli
Julie
BOOKS IN THE WORLD OF PROTHEKA

For a complete reading order for Protheka, go to worldsofprotheka.com

THE WORLD OF PROTHEKA
 1

ABISHEK

can’t wait for this to be over.

I “Kian!” Cheers erupt around me. “Amara!”
We are having another celebration this evening after Kian and Amara’s arrival back to the camp.
And I have had enough.
I am happy for Kian, I really am. And it is clear that his mate is going to be an excellent addition to the clan.
Kian and I used to be good friends. Even more so when we lived on Kaynvu, and I actually had my magic.
But when we arrived on Earth, and after I depleted my magic to close the portal to save all our lives, Kian and I spoke less
and less.
I know it is because nothing much changed for him. Nothing much changed for everyone else in the clan.
They’re still powerful, even though their environments have changed. Kian is still the Undefeated Gladiator.
Uli is still a great chieftain.
That couldn’t be taken away from them. So nothing changed.
But everything changed for me.
Because when I used the last of my magic to close the portal, I was left powerless. I was left completely drained.
I shudder as I think about the weeks, the months, after we arrived on Earth, after I lost my magic.
I was a shell of myself. I had never been more ill. I was broken.
Losing my magic felt like someone had steadily ripped away pieces of my soul. The pain was all emotional and mental, but
I realized in those weeks of desolation and abandonment that maybe emotional and mental pain was worse than physical pain
could ever be.
The journey of becoming a shaman was life changing. It was world altering. It tore me away from myself and remade me.
Magic remade me. Rebuilt me.
And when all that was taken away, I lost everything.
I’ve heard rumors of other clans far away that came to Earth before us. We were the last to leave Protheka, and it was not
unnoticed that there were so few orcs were left. But we cannot be sure where they ended up. All I know is that the portals
should not be able to be opened again.
Not after me.
I stare moodily at the dancing orcs and humans who have congregated in the center of the clan’s compound.
Then I look down at the bottle of ale in my hand. It is almost empty. I take a swig of it and finish it off before I stand up and
walk back to my little home.
“You just need to find a way to get back to yourself. Maybe then you will get your magic back,” I tell myself as I walk into
my little home and trudge towards the small kitchen where I keep my personal store of ale ready.
Despite losing my magic, despite experiencing such world-ending pain, a large part of me hasn’t given up yet.
I want to get back to myself. I want to be a shaman again. I want to perform rituals again.
“Ha!” I laugh bitterly as I think about the fact that there is no magic on Earth. There isn’t any orc magic anyway. “Earth
might have saved us from the dark elves and the naga, but it isn’t fit for orcs. And it is definitely not fit for orc shamans,” I
grumble.
I become more and more drunk as time passes. When I wander outside again, the sun has almost set.
The rest of the clan has started a bonfire, and torches have been lit around the camp. A few of the orcs have pulled out their
makeshift instruments and music filters through the air.
The air is sweet and warm and clear, and for a moment, even though I am drunk, there’s a few seconds of bright clear-
headedness.
 You could be happy here. Maybe even without your magic. You could be happy.
But the moment is dashed when I see Uli and Kian, sitting around the bonfire, with their mates on their arms.
I do not know what it is about the sight of them that makes my stomach go sour. But whenever I look at Kian or Uli with
their mates, I am reminded of who I am now.
I am reminded of everything I have lost.
I am also slightly annoyed that Uli and Kian have spent almost two weeks celebrating with their mates.
They are both highly important to the clan’s operations. We need them for our livelihood.
I turn away from them as hot ale-fueled anger shoots through me.
They have other responsibilities. They’re two of the most important orcs in this clan. Uli is the chieftain for fucks sake!
They’re simply pathetic!
“Abishek!”
I turn at the sound of my name floating through the air. I know that it is Bodhi, the orc in charge of the clan’s security.
He has a very distinctive voice, and now he rumbles my name again. And I am forced to stop.
I sigh as I turn around.
Bodhi might be one of the more intimidating orcs, but he doesn’t scare me. Nothing scares me.
Especially when I am drunk.
“Where are you going?” Bodhi slaps me on the back so hard that my knees almost buckle under the weight of his hand.
Bodhi is tall with broad shoulders. He is slightly larger than me but we are roughly the same height, and even though I am a
shaman and not a warrior, I know that I could hold my own against him.
Not in this condition you can’t.
“Leave me alone Bodhi,” I growl.
“You should join us!” His voice is cheerful. I hate that. “We’ve got a whole goat on the fire! And Julie has this great recipe
with burgonas—I mean, potatoes as the humans call it! We even got some great wine in!”
I cannot help but burst into laughter at Bodhi’s invitation.
“I don’t belong here.” I almost choke on my laughter as I spit out the bitter words.
“What do you mean?” Bodhi looks genuinely confused.
“They don’t even know when I’m not around!” My voice is even more bitter as I point an accusatory finger at Uli and Kian.
“Kian is supposed to be my good friend and he doesn’t even notice whether I am here or not!”
Bodhi’s forehead creases and the corners of his mouth droop. I do not know what the expression on his face is.
Maybe disappointment?
Of course he’s disappointed in me! You have nothing to offer any longer!
“That’s not how things are, Abishek.” I have never heard Bodhi’s voice this gentle before. “We still want you around. But
you’ve completely isolated yourself from the rest of us.”
I turn away from Bodhi, ripping my body away from his hand.
“Go away!”
I snap the words and rush back to my home.
“I have to try,” I speak feverishly. “I have to try!” I don’t care if the rest of the clan can hear or see me as I throw open the
door to my home and head down to the basement.
The basement has become my only reprieve. It is where I keep all my magic tools. It is where I can drink without anyone
judging me.
It is where I can talk to myself, scream to myself, beat my chest, without Uli or Kian locking me up for insanity.
I pull my clothes off, and this reveals the tattoos that spiral all over my body. The tattoos that each shaman gets upon
successfully completing their magic training.
I reach for the robes that hang neatly on a hook on the wall, and pull them hastily onto my body.
A sense of calm overtakes me as the robes settle gracefully on my shoulders.
“This is it,” I mutter to myself.
And I start to chant.
There are many different shamanic chants for many different purposes. The one I am chanting now, as the sun sets, is one of
renewal.
It is a chant that is supposed to summon new magic. It is a chant that is supposed to bring forth rebirth.
A pit forms in my stomach as I chant and nothing happens.
The sense of calm I briefly felt when I donned the robes vanishes quickly.
Instead, frustration threatens to overwhelm me. Because right now, I am supposed to be feeling something.
I am supposed to be feeling the new magic rushing through me. I am supposed to be the vessel, the conduit, for all this new
magic.
“Nothing,” I murmur as I come to the end of the chant, the prayer. “Nothing!” The word rips from me in a scream, a shriek.
“Nothing!” I kick over a pile of books and smash a vase that is filled with long-dead flowers.
I fall to the ground as my shoulders shake and hot, frustrated tears fall from my eyes.
I lean down and beat the ground with my fists as I realize that the magic is never coming back.
It’s never coming back. This is your life now. You’re doomed. You are doomed!
I let out a string of curses as my breath hitches in my throat. I lift my head to the ceiling of the basement.
I want to invoke the names of the gods and goddesses then.
But I cannot bring myself to say their names. Not now that they’ve abandoned me.
“Why?!” I scream instead. “Why?!”
 2

KIRSTEN

y disgust must show on my face in the hours before the next celebration begins because Julie sighs and turns to me.
M It is quite early when we start to prepare for the afternoon and evening’s festivities.
I am supposed to be helping Julie, but after seeing my face, and looking over at Amara, she stops everything she is
doing.
“Kirsten.” Julie’s voice is soft, careful.
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.
Julie. Ever the diplomat.
“I know you aren’t happy about this. I know you aren’t happy, living among the orcs. I know you aren’t happy that I am
mated with an orc. But you need to get used to this. Here, we’re safe and we never have to worry about food and shelter.”
I want to scoff at the word ‘mate.’ We’re humans, we get married. We aren’t savages like the orcs. Our customs include
marriage, where women are equal partners, and not the property of our significant others.
Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and keep my mouth shut.
Amara speaks next, and her voice is sharper, harsher, than Julie’s.
I haven’t known Amara for a very long time, but she isn’t as soft-spoken as Julie. She also doesn’t hold back, and speaks
her mind at all times, which is why she has become such a popular addition to the ‘clan.’
“You have an attitude, and I get it. Not all orcs are like Uli and Kian and the rest of the Risen Ash clan. But you need to get
over it. It’s becoming boring to be honest.”
“I’m not going to sit here and listen to you both insult me,” I snap and stand up. “You married an orc, one of the creatures
who literally destroyed our planet, and sent us back to the Dark Ages. They are the reason we’re suffering in the first place!”
And with that, I stomp off in the direction of my little cottage which is a few houses away from Julie and Uli’s place.
Once I walk into my cottage, I go to my small bookshelf immediately, and pull out one of my favorite books—one that I got
from Julie, coincidentally.
I try to sit down and read, but I cannot concentrate, which has become the norm recently.
So, I chuck the book aside, and begin to pace up and down the length of my small home.
My stomach is twisted into knots and my skin prickles uncomfortably.
I do not know what I am feeling, which has also become the norm, since Julie brought me here.
Anger? Frustration? Grief? I don’t know.
I shake my head violently, as though that will get rid of the thoughts that I cannot put in order, the ones that won’t fit into a
straight line inside me.
Maybe it is all three. Maybe I am angry and frustrated and grieving all at the same time.
I know that this is true. I am angry. Angry that Julie has betrayed me in the worst way. I am also angry that my life has
become better in certain ways since I came to live with the clan.
Materially, I want for nothing. I do not have to fight for food and water. I always have a roof over my head. And we have
more than enough medical supplies at all times.
I also know that I am frustrated by Julie’s behavior. I can see her making the worst decisions of her life, and there is nothing
I can do to stop her.
My grief must be the largest and most overwhelming of all the emotions I feel. I am grieving for everything and everyone.
I am grieving for a lost Earth, and I am grieving for my friend. And I am grieving for myself, and for the life I will never
have.
I continue pacing until my body sways from exhaustion. I finally allow myself to sit down.
I must fall asleep, because when I open my eyes, the light in the room has shifted.
 The first thing I notice as I wake up properly is that I am starving.
The second thing I notice is the noise and the smell of roasting meat, coming in from outside.
“I suppose they’ve just had the wedding then,” I mutter to myself at the sound of cheers. I shiver slightly and reach for my
shawl that I always keep draped over the edge of the chair in the small living room.
Julie and Uli had their ceremony some time ago, which I attended.
But today, Kian and Amara are having theirs. Or they’ve had theirs already.
I don't really know what to think about Amara. She is very clearly human, but she refers to herself as a she-wolf, and she is
a lot more savage than some of the orcs in this clan.
After I pull on my shawl, I decide to join the celebrations. Mostly because I am hungry, and would also like to get very
drunk, but also because I am feeling quite guilty about my earlier outburst.
The first thing I see when I walk to the center of the camp is Julie and Uli, and Amara and Kian, dancing together.
Both couples hold onto one another tightly, and for a second I think that I have never seen anything more natural.
They’re very in love. Does that make it okay? And can we really live like this? Can humans and orcs really co-exist?
Julie and Uli pull away from one another then, and Julie sees me. Her face breaks into a tentative smile and she walks
slowly over to me.
“I’m so glad you came,” she says and pulls me into a soft hug.
My body remains stiff within her embrace, but she doesn’t let that deter her.
“Kirsten.” Her voice is slightly more insistent when she breaks the embrace and looks at me. “Kirsten. This.” She gestures
at the scene around us. “Living like this, with the orcs, working with the orcs, is the only way out of the life we used to live.
This is the only way for humans to survive and to leave the settlements that are killing us.”
“We can survive on our own,” I say stubbornly. Julie lifts an eyebrow.
“Can we? Are we really strong enough to fight the animals of this Earth and the other orcs who want to eat us?”
“I-I…” I stutter over the word. Then, my shoulders slump. “We need someone strong. To survive.”
Turning away from her, my eyes search the camp. My heart yearns to find something to complain about, something that will
validate the emotions inside me, but I don’t.
“I don’t know what to do,” I mumble. This camp, which used to be a human neighborhood, is well located along the great
lake.
We are safe here.
I am safe here.
“You need to just be more open to this lifestyle. I’m not saying you need to fall in love with an orc and mate with them.
Maybe if we have more humans join the camp, you can find a human man to be with. But just try to be more open.”
Am I actually going to go along with this? Am I actually going to let go of my resistance?
Part of me balks at the thought of giving up my objections to this lifestyle. And I think it is because it means giving up my
anger and frustration.
I nod at Julie who gives me a small smile, and then I turn and walk to the edge of the camp.
I will need to get something to eat soon. I am almost dizzy from hunger.
After some time of walking, I move to turn back to the celebrations.
But then I smell it.
It makes me gag. It makes my stomach turn.
Blood.
I follow the smell instinctively. I have always been sensitive to the smell of blood, and a big part of me hopes that it isn’t
human blood.
What if one of the orcs captured a human and is eating them?
My stomach turns again, but I continue to follow the smell of blood. I find the first spot of blood close to one of the houses
which is furthest away from the rest of the camp.
More drops of blood lead away from the house, towards the wilderness that surrounds the camp.
My anxiety skyrockets as I follow the trail.
I am halfway into the forest when I see it. A large orc, bent over a bloody, weak wolf.
One of Amara’s wolves, I think, as my heart thuds unsteadily, painfully in my chest.
I know that Amara’s wolves are friendly, and would never attack anyone without provocation.
“What the fuck?” I mutter to myself, as I see a piece of sharp wood that is covered in blood, lying off to the side of the
wolf.
The orc isn’t doing anything to help the wolf. Instead, the orc is on his knees, and is rocking back and forth.
I can hear the orc speaking. It sounds like he is praying, or chanting, and is speaking in a language I do not understand.
The wolf looks at me, and her eyes are frantic. Her breathing is shallow and erratic.
And the orc is doing nothing to help her.
“What are you doing, you animal?!” I shout and launch myself at the orc.
 3

ABISHEK

here goes the last of the ale, I think to myself with a groan as I stumble up from the basement.
T made.
My little house is chaotic when I reach the ground floor of it, and I sway on the spot as I take in the mess that I have

My stomach turns as the high of the alcohol fades away, and I am left with the warm, sour taste in my mouth.
I swallow down bile as I lurch towards the fireplace, and light it slightly clumsily. The sun has set completely, so the house
is dark. We have solar lights—the humans had many marvelous inventions that we have taken full advantage of—but I do not
like artificial lighting.
She should be here by now. The thought interrupts me and I realize that it is late enough that one of my little friends should
have come around by now.
I cannot deny that there is one good thing about Amara’s arrival in the camp—her wolves.
Her wolves are quite friendly, as wild as they are, and they do not discriminate against me.
Her wolves do not realize that I do not have a place in the camp any longer. They do not care that I do not add anything of
value to the clan’s lifestyle.
They do, usually around this time of the day, demand food and companionship.
One of them in particular, a female wolf, has never missed a night, even when Amara has gone on a run with the rest of the
pack.
You should go check to see if she’s waiting for you. I tell this to myself as I sober up, and I yawn blearily as I walk to the
front door.
There is a chance that there might not be any of the wolves waiting for me tonight. It is the night of Amara and Kian’s
mating ceremony after all.
She might be involved in the ceremony somehow, and might be too preoccupied to come for dinner.
“You can’t blame her. She will just have forgotten you. Like everyone else has,” I mutter these words to myself as I open
the front door.
There is a rustling in the bushes outside, and my heart lifts as I see a pair of sharp, beady eyes, and a long muzzle.
“You’re looking…” My voice trails off when the wolf moves, and I see the blood that pours steadily from her side. “Oh
gods,” I breathe the words as the wolf looks up at me with her dark eyes, and blinks once.
There is a long, thin wooden stick that is piercing her side, and she must be experiencing a lot of discomfort.
I kneel in front of her, and stroke her muzzle as I examine the stick. She leans into my palm and whimpers softly.
She isn’t just experiencing discomfort. She is in pain.
“Okay.” My mind starts whirring as I think of a solution. The only thing I can think of is performing a healing ritual that I
learned at the very start of my shaman training. “I can help you.”
I lift the wolf into my arms, and carry her a little ways into the forest that surrounds my house. Then, I place her carefully
on the ground.
“I’m sorry.” I stroke her head as soothingly as I can, and then I pull the chant from deep inside my memory.
It isn’t a complicated ritual and the prayer is very simple.
When I look down at the wolf, she is panting quickly, her breathing shallow.
I don’t have much time, I think slightly frantically to myself as I murmur the beginning of the chant.
I call on both the War God and the Enchantment Goddess to help me, and then I invoke the old magic of the shamans who
came before me.
I am praying in a language that most orcs—particularly the orcs on Earth—have forgotten. But it is a language that is burned
into my soul.
 I place my hands on the wound, not caring that my skin becomes soaked with blood instantly.
Then, for a miniscule instant, it feels as though everything, including time, has slowed down.
The wolf’s panting seems to slow, and the flutter of her heartbeat calms down.
I can hear my own breathing, harsh and rasping, underneath the timber of my voice.
And I can feel it. The magic.
Orc magic.
My magic.
And then time continues to tick on, and the magic vanishes, as if it was never there.
I let out a loud curse and lean back on my haunches, and the wolf’s panting speeds up again, and the blood seems to gush
from her more quickly.
She’s dying.
“I want to help you.” My voice is frantic. “I just don’t know how.”
The feeling of helplessness erodes my consciousness and threatens to overwhelm me completely.
She’s dying! You need to do something!
The only thing I can do is chant and hope that the magic works. Hope that the magic comes back to me.
So that is what I do.
“What are you doing, you animal?!”
The shriek is filled with pure fury and my eyes shoot open as I see a human woman running towards me.
“How can you sit there and do nothing?!” she screams at me as she kneels next to the animal who has gone still with fright
and pain. “You’re just letting her die!”
Anger, unbridled and uncontrollable anger, rages through me and I push her violently away.
“I’m helping her!” I roar at her. “You don’t know anything, you ignorant human! Go back to where you came from!”
The fury in her voice crosses her face and she pushes me, and her rage must make her stronger, because I stumble
backwards a step.
I am also still drunk, so I stumble backwards another step, and then I fall flat on my ass.
The human woman pulls off a shawl that was draped around her shoulders, and presses it to the wolf’s wounds.
“You need surgery. The laceration is deep,” she mutters to herself as I struggle to get back onto my feet. “I need needles and
thread. And some kind of anesthetic. So much blood loss, how am I going to save you?”
I have no idea what she is talking about, but the look on her face, one of determination, one of knowledge, reminds me of
one of my tutors when I was very young.
A tutor who was one of the wisest orc shamans to ever live.
“What are you doing?” I ask her. “What are you talking about?”
“Her injury is bad and she needs major surgery,” she says without even glancing at me.
“Go away!” Her dismissive behavior makes the anger rise in me again. “I’ll heal her! We don’t need you!”
She does turn to look at me then, and the expression of disdain on her face sends chills down my spine.
She raises an eyebrow before speaking.
“How exactly are you going to heal her?” Her voice is sharp and cold and my body goes cold just listening to her. “With
your words? I don’t think that’s going to cut it.”
Her words are like a slap to the face.
I ball my hands into fists and clench my jaw as I swallow waves of anger.
I might not be as strong as other orcs, because I am a shaman and not a warrior. But I am still stronger than this human
woman.
I stalk towards her and grab her by the arm. I yank her towards me, and her gasp of pain and shock is the most satisfying
thing I’ve heard all day.
I take her by the chin and force her face towards mine.
“Do you know who I am?” I growl the words at her, and she goes still. Her eyes are wide, her pupils dilated, and I know
she is afraid.
But then the fear disappears, and she jerks away from me, fighting against me.
“I don’t give a fuck who you are! You’re just a crazy drunk—I can smell the booze on your breath! Now, let go of me!”
I tighten my grip on her, and I snarl the next words.
“You’re such a stupid woman, you useless human.”
She continues to fight against my grip. There is more I could say. There are things I could say, and do to her, that would
make her want to die.
I could do things to her that would have her begging me to kill her.
But before I can consider how I can terrify her next, the wolf groans and we both look down at her.
The creature is breathing even more shallowly now and the rush of blood from her body hasn’t slowed down.
My grip on the human woman loosens, and I am prepared to fall to my knees again. I am prepared to chant again.
But before I can say anything, I hear the crack and rustle of footsteps coming through the forest towards us.
The voice, when it speaks, is bright and curious. And worried.
And it belongs to Bodhi.
“What happened?”
 4

KIRSTEN

hat happened here?” the orc I recognize as Bodhi asks. He looks down at the injured animal and gasps. “What the fuck
“W happened?”
“What happened here is that he,” I say directly to the other beast. “Is a bastard! He stabbed this poor wolf and
tried to heal it with non-existent magic!”
How much longer will it get into everyone’s head that such stupidity doesn’t work? It almost seems like a game at this
point. Toying with the hope and well-being about others by faking this buffoonery. How many people died because of believing
in such hocus-pocus?
Now they want to use it on innocent animals. There’s no limit to the orcs’ cruelty. I have to at least protect this wolf from
them.
The orc scoffs and glares at me. “That’s not true in the slightest,” he says before looking up at Bodhi. “The wolf was
injured! This woman is lying, she just came at the exact moment I tried to heal her. Of course she would think I injured it.”
What!? No, he's trying to make himself seem innocent. I know what I saw! He can’t really expect me to ignore the chanting
he was doing over the wolf.
We glare at each other. I can even see the wrinkles in my forehead.
“I know what I saw,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You saw whatever you wanted to.”
I keck before snapping. “It is what it is. Don’t act like I’m the crazy one here! You even threatened me when I stopped you!
Are you going to deny that? You’re a bastard of the highest order!”
He snaps back at me but in his language. His jaw clenches and he bares his teeth while saying it. Like he means every letter
that drips out of his mouth. There’s even a hiss in there.
“What the hell did you say?” I demand, narrowing my eyes.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You obviously were. You looked at me straight in the face and spit out words. Stop lying.”
Did he just curse me? I may not understand what the hell he meant but his expression’s obvious. He enunciated every
syllable in whatever word he threw at me. His eyes turned into slits and the veins pop out from his temples.
He stares at me, still glaring.
“Say what you just said so I can understand. Why are you hiding behind your language?”
He rolls his eyes. “My language is not for measly ears like yours. There’s no need for me to repeat myself to you.”
My face turns hot. “No, say it with your chest! Feeling cowardly now that you look guilty as hell? I don’t think so you…
you bastardly bastard!”
“Will you stop screaming profanities?” he bellows right in my face. “I. Was. Just. Healing. Her!”
Fucking bastard. He’s going to keep up the farce until the very end. Not on my ducking watch that’s for sure. At least now
I’m going to have something to occupy my mind in this place.
Keeping this bastard away from this poor creature, I think to myself as I try to make space between him and the wolf.
He frowns at me and doesn’t move away from it. It’s a game of dominance to him and he’s sure as hell won’t back down.
Well, neither will I!
Who the hell does he think he is? He’s a bogus doctor. All he's going to do is cause more pain and death with his ignorance.
Healing him? With what magic? This is Earth. He’s stuck in the past. One that doesn’t matter anyway.
“Get away from him,” I demand the orc again.
He doubles down. “No. I was helping him before you lost your mind and barged in screaming at me. You interrupted my
chant and now I have to start all over again.”
 “Your magic won’t work! It didn’t work, not one bit! She’s still bleeding! Is this some kind of sick and twisted way you’re
torturing her?”
“Excuse me? Torturing her? What the fuck are you even talking about?”
“I’m talking about you letting her die slowly and painfully because you keep acting like your fake magic will help her! That
bogus crap doesn’t work here, get it through your head!”
“It’s not fake magic you—”
I turn my ear to hear it clearly. “Say it. Go ahead. You were calling me a bitch just now weren’t you?”
“Because you are acting like one! Your screaming isn’t doing anything to help!”
“Neither will your fake magic!”
Bodhi’s thunderous voice cuts through our argument.
“Enough, both of you! What the hell are you doing? You’re fighting instead of taking care of the wolf!”
He takes off his shirt to expose his ripped physique. I unintentionally look away and wonder what the hell he’s going to do
now.
“Bodhi, what do you think you’re—”
As the other orc asks, Bodhi expertly bandages his shirts around the wolf’s wound. The whimpering from her ceases by a
little. At least she’s not bleeding profusely anymore. Something so simple and yet the bastard didn’t even try to do it.
Even so, Bodhi still glares at both of us. I want to protest how I’m the one in the right but now that my anger subsided, I’m
also in the wrong. As a doctor, my number one priority should always be the patient, no question about it. The fact that I let
myself be dragged into a petty argument with that bastard is shameful to my work.
I look over at the creature. She’s panting slightly but still can’t move much. I wonder what she thought the whole time we
argued. She probably feels that I’m no better than the orc.
He looks at how Bodhi carefully secures his shirt on the wound. I would think he’s upset at him for beating him to save the
wolf. But he just stares with an emptiness in his eyes that gives me the creeps.
He feels me staring at him and he turns my way. I quickly glare at him. He’s caught off guard at first but then scoffs at me.
Such a childish orc.
I roll my eyes and refocus my attention on the important matter.
“The wound’s pretty deep but I don’t think her internal organs are damaged,” I say to Bodhi.
He nods in understanding. “That’s a relief. What do you suggest we do with her? I don’t think she can move.”
“We need to take her to the new clinic. The bleeding stopped but she still lost a lot of it.”
“Fine. Then let’s—”
The other orc butts in for some damn reason. He grasps Bodhi’s shoulder.
“No, we can’t move her. We don't know if she has broken bones. She’ll be in more pain.”
“This is an emergency. We can’t just leave her out here to die. We’ll heal the broken bones at the clinic,” Bodhi explains.
Despite the urgency, the other orc doesn’t get it and pushes it.
“Bodhi, it’s fine,” he says. An astute expression shows on his face. “I can heal her. It was working before I got interrupted.
We can just do it here.”
The former sighs. “Abishek, you’re a great shaman. One of the best, don’t get me wrong… but this isn’t Protheka.”
As the words come out of Bodhi’s mouth, Abishek pales. It’s a sudden reaction that catches my attention. Because despite
the sudden change of complexion, his features are still rigid and unmoving.
I observe them both carefully. The conversation shifts dramatically from heated to painfully awkward. Bodhi looks
resigned and in pain, as if he doesn't want to be the one to deliver the message.
It makes me wonder how many times this conversation’s happened. Bodhi can’t even look him straight in the eye.
“But… the chants. I’m sure it was working. Even by a little,” Abishek tries to explain. It sounds more to himself than to
Bodhi. “Let me try once more. I know I can do it.”
Bodhi turns and presses his mouth together. “Abishek, please. We have to move on.”
The orc stays silent, as if reality just befell him. Despite our disagreement earlier, I somewhat… pity him. He’s desperately
trying to hang on to the last thread of their homeland. I can only imagine how painful that must be for him.
Well, not painful enough if he can easily threaten me like he did, I suddenly remember.
I shove the tiny sliver of pity in my heart. He’ll get over it. I know I had to bite my tongue and move on with life. Everyone
has to do it at some point.
“We should take the wolf away already. She might be dehydrated already and that could complicate things,” I say to Bodhi
as I try not to look at the other one.
He nods. “I’ll carry her. Lead the way.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
As careful and gentle as he can, Bodhi picks up the wolf. She whimpers and cries and tries to escape. With a firm hand,
Bodhi lifts her in a way to not put pressure on her wound. There’s definitely an injured bone somewhere.
As we leave the area, Abishek remains standing there, rooted on the spot. I glance at him, and my heart lurches with an
indescribable emotion.
Maybe I was too harsh?
I know the feeling of being powerless. It’s something that becomes second nature in my line of work. I often have the same
face as he does right now. He looks like heaven and Earth have fallen on him.
Is he going to be okay?
 5

ABISHEK

“T his way,” the woman instructs Bodhi.

They take the wolf away to the place where it’ll surely survive. Unlike if it stays out here with me as I try to stupidly
heal him with my magic.
Fake magic, the woman said.
I look down at my hands that once held the most powerful magic in all of Protheka. Now they can’t even do a simple
healing ritual. I might as well cut off my hands since they’re so useless now.
“What am I to do with these now?” I say to myself.
I clench them into fists, shaking in bitterness and anger. There are no other words to explain what I feel now. What I’ve
been feeling since we came here.
For the sake of the tribe, I’d give up my powers again and again. That’s the right way to think of things. But somewhere
deep in my heart there’s a doubt of whether I could sacrifice something like that again.
I clench my teeth as I punch a hole in a tree. Why did we have to come to this godsforsaken planet with no magic? Everyone
easily moved on to their own duties and lives. Why can’t I do the same?
Each passing day is more painful than the last. I dread waking up in the morning, knowing I’m stuck in this place. I’m
nothing but an empty shell. Scraps. Absolute garbage.
“How can I lose my powers?” I ask myself, wishing to know the answer. “How? How? How?”
It doesn’t matter how many times I ask. There’ll never be an answer. I have to live with the silence.
My knees suddenly turn weak. Every part of me wants to just disappear into thin air. But not even the gods are as merciful.
I have to live like this. I can never go back. My power’s not coming back.
My heartbeat’s erratic and I don’t know how to control it. Slowly, I lose grip of the sanity that kept me grounded so far. I
have to hold my head to make sure I’m still alive or even just plainly existing.
Alas, my mind’s riddled with deprecating thoughts, like a flesh-eating disease.
“Does Bodhi also think I’m useless now? Do they all think that way?” I say.
I don’t have to leave myself guessing. I know it’s true. They just have me around out of pity and duty. I did save them after
all. They’re just repaying that kindness by allowing me to leech off of them.
The whirlwind of emotions that torment me takes over. I roar, letting out all the anger and frustration that I try to hide from
the rest. But it’s not enough. I still feel the darkness inside me.
I punch the first tree until it becomes twigs under my feet. I heave and pant as I look at the soil with the mess I made.
“That didn’t help at all,” I grumble as I kick the dirt.
What would throwing a tantrum do? This is foolish of me. I can’t allow an injured wolf to decide my destiny. I was
interrupted. That’s why I couldn’t do it.
I look at the path Bodhi and that woman took. I can’t dwell on it too much, though. The point was to help my little friend.
These worries are making me become a selfish orc.
Still, I can’t help but feel that it’s because this isn’t who I am. The loss of my powers took a toll on other parts of myself.
I’m someone that needs to use magic.
I can’t give up. I won’t! I’m going to do anything to get my powers back! I decide silently.
I grit my teeth decisively. It’s settled then. If it’s possible for me to lose them, there’s a way to get them back.
I return to my home, making sure I don’t run into the other orcs. I want to avoid any sort of conversation right now. Who
knows if that woman opened her mouth and spread lies throughout the settlement? She can mar my reputation with all the
yapping she likes to do.
Finally, I reach my home, a hut more secular than the rest. I look behind me to make sure no one’s followed. Then, I tightly
shut the door before rushing into my private study.
During the devastation in Protheka, I didn’t have much to save. But the one thing I knew I needed to take with me, is the
shaman’s tome. It holds everything I need to know to adapt to these new and desolate surroundings.
I open it up, searching through every line ever written to find any sort of clue. No one really talks about the case of losing
powers or having no magic. But it’s always a given that when one has weak magic, there’s something you can use.
“There needs to be some sort of herb or even a rock I can use,” I mumble.
As I keep looking through the tome, I come across a certain name: Altastos. That’s a name I don’t remember seeing before.
Maybe because I didn’t need it before now.
I read through, making sure not to miss any fine details. The more I learn about this, the more hopeful I get. The tome says
Altastos is a magic stone that can be used as a substitute for powerful magic.
It has its setbacks though. It needs time to replenish the magic if too much is used at once. Only one can be used because of
its rarity. It’s also dangerous to use more than one. But nothing too much of a problem if it means I can use it!
However, my excitement cuts short when I remember an important fact. This tome comes from Protheka. All the knowledge
it carries is from the motherland. Where on Earth can I find this kind of precious stone?
I sit back on my large chair, deflated. Once again I’m faced with the disappointment that is my life. What was I expecting
really? That the tome will suddenly carry unlimited knowledge of an unknown planet?
We haven’t been here enough time for it to actually happen. Also, there’s absolutely no magic here. The tome’s as useless
as I am.
“Damn it!” I curse as I throw the tome away from me.
I sink into my chair and grab a tuft of hair. The deprecating thoughts return but I don’t even try to shake them out of my head.
They’re all true anyway.
I sigh deeply, letting the reality settle in. “Am I just going to retire already?”
I haven’t even reached half of my lifespan to even consider that possibility. But who could’ve seen these turn of events
coming? Well, given our tumultuous relationship with those dark elves, it should’ve been assumed at least.
My attention goes back to the tome. Maybe I didn't look thoroughly enough. What if there’s something I need to decode? My
father did say that the tome carries all the knowledge in existence. I can be wrong about it being useless here.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “These useless hopes of mine won’t do anything. I've reached a dead end.”
But I do remember grandfather mentioning something before. A story of old.
When I was gaining more affinity for power, my father and grandfather warned me with a story. The story of a shaman that
was growing weak. He could still use strong magic, but it wasn’t enough for him. The shaman, as the story tells, used countless
living sacrifices—animals, humans, and even orcs, in exchange for power.
I remember being absolutely disgusted and horrified when I learned of this. I was young after all. But thinking back to the
story, the shaman’s no different than how I am now. Desperation can make someone do crazy and awful things.
But it’s evil magic, I remind myself.
I shake my head. I can’t do that. Where did it all go wrong that I started thinking about evil magic? My family would be
ashamed of me. I’m ashamed of myself.
With a defeated sigh, I get up from my chair and walk over to the window. I stare up at the moon, longing for an answer. I
find myself doing this every night once my thoughts take over me. Looking at it gives me some sense of peace.
The orcs retire to their own dwellings, leaving the night in peace and silence. Everyone mourns Protheka, but I know
they’re still content here. I have to remind myself that I gave it my all so they can get to where they are now.
I look down at my hands again and squeeze them tight. I have to get a hold of myself. The little spectacle I did is nothing
short of embarrassing. Thank the gods no one saw me. Their opinion of me would dwindle if they did.
My loss of control also made me go down a dark path. One I swore I’ll never take. “When did I change to this power
hungry orc?” I mutter.
I can’t blame this side of me on the loss of my powers. I genuinely love helping and healing people. It's been like that since
I was young, but as I grew up, the world completely changed me.
It’s more like I realized the reality of it. Everyone's naïve as a child, including me. There’s more weight to carry than
simply helping with a just smile.
I take a deep breath, gathering my once spiraling thoughts.
“Is this really it for me? Should I give… human medicine a chance?”
 6

KIRSTEN

kay, this should be enough,” I say to myself.

“O I give the herbs a last good mixing before setting it on the side. When Bodhi and I brought the wolf back, she still
bled. It nearly went into shock and I had to work quickly. Thankfully, she’s a resilient fellow and with some emergency
medication, she’s doing better than before.
I used all of the good batch, I think as I look for more yarrow.
Julies usually helps me but she’s not here at the moment. I forgot where she said she’ll be going with Chieftain Uli. But it’s
fine, it’s nothing new. I just want to finish this morning so I can search for more herbs.
I take the mixture and bring it to where the wolf lays. She cracks her eye open, peering over whatever’s in my hands.
“This is for trauma wounds. It has yarrow, witch hazel, and horsetail. I know you can understand me, that’s why I’m
explaining it to you,” I say to her, even though the most response I get is a whimper.
With a small spatula, I pick a good amount to spread over her wound. I lift the gauze I put on after taking off Bodhi’s shirt.
Not too much blood is coming out since I gave her a small amount of blood clotting medication, but this mixture should help.
“Okay, I’m putting it on now. It’s going to sting a little but I promise you’ll feel much better after,” I assure her.
As I put the paste on her wound, she lets out a cry and even growls. She doesn’t snap her jaws at me which I’ll take as a
good sign. Even if she did take a bite out of me, I wouldn’t blame her. Since that jerk-faced orc decided to waste time to argue,
I’m sure the wolf’s pain intensified.
I work fast to get all the moisture on her wound. She cries and yelps and growls but takes it like a champ. I want to cry
along with her but that won’t help in the slightest.
This is the part I hate about my job. I sigh as I replace the dirtied gauze.
After securing it, I check the wolf’s condition. Her breathing returned to normal but she could still use fluids inside of her. I
carefully pet her, receiving a lick to the hand.
“I’m glad you're such a strong girl,” I say with a smile.
I’m also glad that Bodhi was there to interfere in the argument. Even though I hate to admit it, my pride would’ve made me
try to win the argument with that bastard. If we kept at it, this poor thing would have bled out.
I check her breathing just to be sure. Her heart’s a little slow but nothing to worry about anymore. My own anxiety lessens
and I can just monitor her for now. I still need to see if she has any broken bones.
“If you’re able to talk, tell me right now who hurt you. Was it that son of a bitch?” I ask the wolf. She stares at me, and
blinks once or twice. “I’ll keep it between us.”
I laugh to myself as I keep trying to convince this creature to tell me all it knows. Maybe it’s so that the clinic won’t feel so
empty without Julie. The time also goes by faster.
As I enjoy the peaceful quiet with my four-legged patient, there’s a pounding at the clinic’s entrance. I thought it was from
next door but the pounding continued. A commotion soon follows after it.
“Help! Help! Open up!” they desperately yell.
Quickly I run towards the door and open it. A group of orcs rush in, carrying two of their own. Alarmed, I look around them
to find out what the hell’s happening. They all try to explain at once and I can’t understand a word they say.
I raise my hands. “Wait, wait, everyone quiet. What’s going on?”
As I ask that, I notice the face of the orcs being carried. Pale faces and traces of black blood leaking from their mouths.
“Oh my God! What the hell happened!?”
Fuck, what did they eat? Did they consume poison? Those are the only possible reasons I can think of. Since they’re
massive beings I guess the poison’s taking a while to take them down.
I run past the group of orcs and open the other rooms. “Quickly, lay them down!”
 The orcs do as I say without any hesitation. The victims groan and bellow when they're plopped on the beds. They hold
their chest and stomach, hunched over as they moan.
“You have to lay flat so I can check you,” I tell them as I take out my poison kit. “You’re going to need to open your mouths
wide so I can test for poison.”
Beads of sweat form on their foreheads. They grit their teeth as they try to follow my instructions. I help them a little by
pushing their back against the bed. I try not to do too much since I know how prideful orcs can be.
They grip the beds tightly with their fists. They swallow hard and the noise coming from their throats sound like they’re
regurgitating. The rest of the orcs wait by the door, carefully watching me do my work.
I check their hearts to make sure both aren’t going into cardiac arrest. They’re beating but erratically and abnormally. I take
out the testing strips from the poison kit.
I place them under their tongues and take a swab from the back of their throats. Both the swab and the strip turn black.
“They’re poisoned,” I say grimly. I turn towards the other orcs. “What did they eat or drink? When did they look like this?”
They all exchanged guilt-ridden looks. Some scratch the back of their necks and the others avoid eye contact. I cross my
arms and raise my eyebrows.
“Well, then? I have to know what kind of poison it is to treat them.”
Still, none of them want to spit it out. I can already imagine why though. They know exactly what happened and are too
cowardly to admit it. God, these orcs really frustrate me. They act all high and mighty but when it comes to admitting their
wrongs, it's like pulling out teeth.
Finally, after staring a hole into their skulls, one orc bravely walks forward. He meddled with his hands and glances
between me, the orcs, and the patients.
“To be honest, Abishek, the old shaman, was the one that gave them something to drink. He said it was medicine and
wanted them to try it. It was supposed to help them regain their stamina.”
My eyes bulge. “What?” I yell out. I turn to the other patients. “And you just blindly drank the medicine?”
The one closest to me groans out. “He’s our shaman. We thought he’d be good at medicine if he once had powerful magic.”
It clicks that I know exactly who the hell they’re referring to. Abishek! That’s his name! And it’s him? He’s the one
responsible for this?
Seriously! He’s so fucking clueless. What the hell was he thinking!?
I frown and rub my temples. The second I found him out in the trees, I knew he was going to be troublesome. It’s my fault
for not being more aware of things after I took the wolf away. The look of complete defeat on his face said it all.
I should’ve realized he was going to do something. Why wouldn’t he? He was adamant about healing the wolf with bogus
magic. His stubbornness and naivety won’t stop at forest creatures. He won’t give up easily.
“Damn it!” I curse as I slap the counter.
The orcs exchange glances at my sudden outburst. I can’t outright insult their shaman in front of them, even if he did this.
They’re too trusting for their own good.
With a sigh, I open up a cabinet by the window.
“Do you remember what it smelled like before you drank the medicine?” I ask the orcs.
“It smelled like piss. It was very musty, just like any other medicine.”
I roll my eyes with my back facing all of them. That bastard used hemlock for them to try! But he probably didn’t even
know it was poison since it looks like a common plant. So clueless!
“Medicine smells bitter, not musty,” I say as I find the correct antidote. “Next time you’re offered something you don’t
recognize, please bring it to me.”
I give them the antidote. It’ll take a while to see its effect because of their size. However, I also give them pain medicine
for the tremors and for any stomach issues they may have.
“I’ve given you enough for a week. Take the medicine with food and keep hydrated,” I advise them. I turn to the others.
“They’ll have to stay at the clinic so I can monitor them.”
They all nod their heads and exit one by one. I make sure all the patients are nice and comfortable before I unleash my
wrath. If I don’t stop that bastard right now, he’s going to create a plague on the settlement.
I rush out of the clinic and go directly to his house. It’s the only obvious hut that’s isolated from the rest that has runes
plastered all over the front door. My blood boils and all I can see is red.
“Abishek, get out of there right now!”
 7

ABISHEK

bishek, get out of there right now!”

“A I roll my eyes at the unsettling and annoying noise coming from that woman.
“Great, here she comes,” I mutter.
She can shriek all she wants but I won’t open the door. I don’t want to even look at her. After asking about her around the
settlement, I learned who she is and what her business is in the settlement.
Kirsten is the new doctor. She’s the one that’s going to take my place. I always knew that the tribe would find someone to
replace me. They no longer see any use for me here.
I grit my teeth just thinking about it. The moment I learned of her position I couldn’t help myself but lash out at the orc that
informed me. He tried to calm me down and try to offer words of encouragement, but I didn’t want to hear any of it.
No wonder she acted haughty last night. She’s aware that her presence threatens my authority here. I shouldn’t have let her
take the wolf away. I found her first and I know I could’ve helped it.
I shake my head, remembering Bodhi’s words. No matter how much it hurts, he’s right. I already decided last night that I
can’t let my anger control me. But it’s so damn hard to do.
“I said get out you bastard! I know you’re in there! Stop hiding!”
That woman hounds on my front door like a rabid animal. I try to ignore her shrill noises and keep studying the plants I
found.
“Abishek!” Kirsten yells again. “Abishek, I said open this goddamn door!”
I frown and get up from the chair, marching towards the door with my staff in my hand. I swing it open, nearly hitting her
face with it. I look down to her stature and growl.
“What do you want? Stop screaming, you lunatic,” I say.
She glares at me and pokes at my chest. “You have some nerve calling me that. You poisoned two orcs because of your
medicine! Are you crazy? How can you do this to them? What do you even know about medicine?”
Every accusation she throws feels like a stone being cracked on my skull. I’ve never seen a human with such impudence.
Not once has she hesitated to get in my face.
I close the door behind me and tower over her. My intimidation doesn’t work and she continues to look at me defiantly.
“You don’t know anything.” I frown. “I did it to help them. I’m making medicine to help orcs.”
She scoffs. “How can you possibly make that when you don’t even know anything about human medicine? Orcs like you
will cause more death than a disease!”
“Shut up, will you?” I snap. “I used herbs to make the medicine. They’re nothing different from Protheka.”
“Especially herbs! You used hemlock! If they were left alone they would’ve died! How can you be so stupid as to let them
take it without knowing anything?”
Without knowing anything? She really thinks of me as so foolish to just be dabbling with random crap. I picked up some
help from the shaman’s tome and compared the plants from here to Protheka’s. If they have any resemblance, surely they’d
work the same way.
“Don’t speak as if you know everything. Those orcs volunteered to take the medicine. Simple as that,” I try to explain to
her.
But she’s having none of it. She rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. The small, red birthmark on her
forehead wrinkles within her forehead. Her brown eyes even have a tint of red. Her scowl reaches down to her bones.
“That still doesn’t justify you letting them take poison! And since you suddenly decided to make medicine, why didn’t you
try it yourself first?”
I haven't said anything just yet. Since I knew what I was doing I didn't find the need to.
 “First of all, I won’t force anyone to do anything they don’t want to. Second of all, those orcs are well aware of the
consequences,” I say firmly.
We all have our own separate minds here. When I asked Zanzar and Loraik if they could help me with it, they accepted
without hesitation. I even informed them that this is a new concoction with unknown plants. That it could be dangerous.
“We trust you, Abishek” is exactly what they said. I do feel a little guilt arising but they knew what they were getting
themselves into. I’m sure those two know I never had the intention to hurt them. If Kirsten keeps spouting nonsense they might
think otherwise.
“That’s the most selfish thing anyone could say,” she snaps at me. With a loud groan, she rubs her temple. “They trusted you
and you practically took advantage of that. Why didn’t you offer Bodhi your medicine? You knew he’d tell you off.”
“It’s not selfish, it’s common sense. I warned them it’s the first time I made it and they still took it. Should I hold their hands
at every turn? Perhaps I should treat them as children since you see them as much.”
Her mouth hangs open. “What the hell is wrong with you? How do you even get that from what I asked?”
I frown. “Orcs don’t need babying if that’s what you want to hear. Treat them as such and see how far that gets you.”
“Oh, is that another threat? Seriously, I was wondering why you took so long, Abishek.”
“Don’t say my name. It sounds like a curse coming out of your mouth.”
Kirsten pouts and I notice her clenching her small hands. They shake and her cheeks turn red. She clenches her jaw and I
can tell she's trying to keep her calm. Even though that went out the window as soon as she approached my home.
I smirk. “You’re about to start frothing. Why don’t you go back to that pretentious clinic of yours and take something.
Preferably medicine that’ll make you go to sleep.”
“Excuse me? Where do you get off on saying that kind of crap to me?”
“I don’t care who you are, doctor. You’re the one that came shouting accusations at my door. Did you expect me not to
defend myself?”
“How is it defending yourself if you nearly killed two orcs!? You shouldn't be dabbling in anything you don’t have the
slightest idea of. End of story.”
I turn around, having enough of this pointless conversation. It's all about trial and error. I’m sure I won’t have a hard time
finding orcs to test the medicine. The shaman’s tome is enough help.
But as I walk back to my house, I feel her pull my arm.
“Uh, excuse me? Where do you think you’re going? I wasn’t finished.”
I snatch my arm away. “I was. I don’t have time to argue with you. I need work to do.”
“You’re still going to make medicine? After everything I told? You really are a bastard of the highest order!”
“I can do whatever the hell I want! I know what’s good for my tribe!”
“No you don’t! You're going to kill them if you keep acting so stupid and selfishly!”
We’re at each other’s throats. If she wasn’t a human female I’d fight her. If only she wasn’t I’d teach her a lesson.
“You poisoned them! Get that through your head! They’re recovering because I helped them in time! One of the other orcs
you haven’t tried to kill said that the only thing they had was your stupid medicine!”
“Enough already! You don’t even know what they ate before my medicine, they could’ve ingested something else and didn’t
say anything!”
I don’t want to bow down to her. I know it was my medicine that caused their ailments. But I just can’t admit it. My pride is
the only thing I have left right now.
“Stop making excuses, Abishek!”
“And you stop calling my name, you lowly human!”
During our screaming match, we attracted a crowd. I barely noticed them until I realized that the crowd included Julie and
Uli. They stand at the very front.
They approach us once we stopped yelling.
Fuck.
Damn it, this isn't really the right time to confront Uli. He’s the last person I want to meet.
“What’s going on here?” Uli asks, more to me than to Kirsten. “You’re causing a commotion.”
Kirsten doesn’t hesitate to tell him. “Abishek gave two orcs 'medicine’ but he poisoned them instead. They’re fine but he
won’t admit he’s wrong or even try to fix things.”
Uli turns to me. “Abishek? Is that true?”
“I gave them medicine to help with their stamina. I was following the direction from the shaman’s tome,” I try to defend
myself.
But as soon as I see the disappointment in Uli’s eyes, I shut up. It’s like a blow to my gut. I sigh and grit my teeth, left with
no other choice but to admit the whole truth.
“I’m trying to learn human medicine,” I mutter as my pride takes a hit.
Uli looks at me, surprised, and even smiles. Shivers run down my spine at the sudden shift of expression. What is that smile
for?
“Great! That's amazing! You want to learn human medicine,” he says cheerfully.
“Yes?” I retort cautiously.
He smiles rather mischievously. “Kirsten is the perfect teacher. From now on, you’re going to learn from her!”
“What?” Kirsten and I blurt out at the same time, horrified.
There’s absolutely no way!
 8

KIRSTEN

his can’t be happening. My eyes fill with tears of rage, unable to stomach the thought of taking Abishek on as a student.
T He’s arrogant, he’s obnoxious, he makes my skin crawl just by being near him.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I say, hoping Uli will take enough pity on me to retract this ridiculous suggestion.
“I… We don’t work well together.”
“This will be a good chance to work together, then. Our clan needs cohesion and cooperation between our members,” Uli
replies simply, eyes fluttering between myself and the sulking Abishek. “My decision is final.”
Orders from the chieftain can never be questioned. We must follow them, unless we want to face the consequences.
Fury courses through my body, making my jaw clench and fists ball up. My blurry eyes land on Julie, who sends me a small
smile. It’s enough to make me feel sick.
Why would she smile at me like that? She’s enjoying this, isn’t she? Mocking me. Relishing in the fact that I’ll have to
spend more time around that brute.
I glare at Abishek, and to no surprise, he’s shooting daggers at me, too. How are we supposed to get any sort of work done
when we hate each other?
Uli clears his throat, catching my attention. Then, the chieftain smirks.
“I expect to see an improvement in Abishek’s knowledge by next week. Matter of fact, I will personally stop by and quiz
him on a few things he should know by then.”
It takes everything within me to hold back the grimace wanting to emerge on my face. Great. Now I have to parent the damn
orc, making sure he’s soaking up what I’m teaching him. I’d rather shovel rocks into his cocky face instead.
“Does this sound good?” Uli asks, raising his hands and looking between us. If he expects an answer, he’s not getting one.
At least not from me.
It seems as if the chieftain senses the tension, but at the same time, he doesn’t care. A self-satisfied grin appears on his face
and he responds to our silence with an affirmative nod.
“Great. I can’t wait to see what results from this excellent pairing.”
By that point, I can’t help but roll my eyes in disgust. This is ridiculous. Every part of it. My body physically recoils at the
thought of spending an extended period of time around Abishek.
“Julie,” I call out, just as she turns to follow Uli in his departure. “Julie!”
“Yes?” Julie flinches at the intensity in my grip as I grab her wrist. “What’s wrong, Kirsten?”
“You know exactly what’s wrong,” I hiss. “I can’t do this! I don’t want to take him on as a damn student! You have to help
me. You need to tell Uli that this isn’t going to work. If he wants me to mentor anyone else, fine, but not him.”
Julie gazes at Abishek before sighing. Her shoulders slump and she places her hand over mine.
“Look, I’ll do what I can, but it’s hard to change Uli’s mind once he’s set on something. But I’ll do my best.”
“Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Just try to follow his orders in the meantime, okay? It’s for your own good. Uli won’t hesitate to punish you if you don’t
and I won’t be able to help you if things get to that.”
“I…” Pausing, it soon hits me that I’ll have to make this orc tag along with me for a while. Uli will keep his eyes on us, I’m
sure. As frustrating as it is, I nod. “Fine. I’ll do it if you promise me that you’ll get him to change his mind.”
“I can’t promise anything, Kirsten, but I’ll do my best.”
The bleakness underlying her words tells me that I should start making peace with Uli’s decision. It doesn’t look like he’ll
budge anytime soon, which makes me wonder what I did to deserve this fate.
With another sympathetic look, Julie turns on her heels and follows after Uli. Behind me, Abishek sighs loudly. Every little
thing he does irritates me in an instant. I don’t know how I’ll be able to get through one day with him as my student.
 It’s all his fault.
Those words echo in my mind, making it difficult to glance at him. If I do, all the hatred and contempt inside of me will be
as obvious as the sky is blue.
Why did he have to say that he was interested in learning human medicine? I bet that’s not even true. He’s far too
arrogant to think human medicine matches up to his shamanism.
I don’t have time to teach medicine to an individual who thinks he’s far superior than humans.
Cracking my knuckles, I turn towards him with enough venom in my words to sting. “I don’t know why you said what you
did when it’s clear that you’re not interested in human medicine at all.”
Abishek huffs. “Know your place. You don’t know what I want or don’t want.”
“Yes, I do. I can see it in your expressions and the way you address me,” I reply brusquely. “You don’t like me very much,
which is fine. The feeling is mutual.”
“You have far too much self-importance,” he says, waving me off. “I don’t care about you. Alive, dead, well, or ill, I’m not
interested in your life at all.”
“Well, thanks to you, we’re being forced to work together, so you better swallow those insults and get ready to work.”
The more I think about it, the more enraged I become. Why should I be forced to do this? It’s a waste of time and a slap in
the face. Despite the fact that I could be spending my time healing the clan members, I’m stuck with him instead.
Damn you, Uli. I would never say that to his face, but I hope he knows just how pissed off he’s made me.
On second thought, there’s no way I can do this. He’ll do nothing more than enrage me on a daily basis. He doesn’t treat me
with any sort of respect. I’ll be damned if I’m forced to endure this because of Uli.
Chieftain or not, he’s a fool for doing this to me.
“I can’t do this,” I mumble to myself, loud enough for Abishek to hear. “I don’t want to do this. Spend your days however
you want as long as they’re far away from me.”
Abishek laughs dryly. “So that’s how things are going to go? You won’t even try to follow the chieftain’s orders?”
“I don’t want to. I don’t care if that means I’ll have to be punished in front of the whole clan.”
“It’s a good thing you’re being honest about your feelings,” he replies. “If it were up to me, I wouldn't even speak to you. I
wouldn’t even spend time around you.”
“Right,” I retort, sarcasm oozing out of my words. “Between you and I, I’m not the one with an issue with my confidence.”
“What did you say?”
“I’m confident in my abilities at healing. I can’t say the same thing about you and the fact that Uli wants you to learn from a
human burns you up inside. We both know that to be true.”
Abishek bares his teeth at me. Maybe in other circumstances, I’d be afraid of him. One orc can destroy a dozen humans.
Right now, I would rather take on Uli’s wrath than waste another day around Abishek.
“You’re a pitiful human,” he spits. “How dare you say such things to me? I used to be powerful! I used to be one of the best
shamans around!”
“And all of that is in the past,” I point out. “It isn’t true anymore. Now, you’re just an empty shell who can’t even heal a
wounded wolf.” I shake my head. “I doubt Uli will punish me gravely. I’m needed around here.”
“So am I!” he roars. “I don’t care what Uli does to me! There’s nothing he can do to make my life worse than it already is!
Lock me up?” Abishek scoffs. “That doesn’t scare me. I’m sure that would be better than spending time by your side.”
Now, it’s my turn to laugh. Wiping at my eyes, I shoo him off.
“You’re crazy. There’s something wrong with you.”
“And you’re a disgrace of a healer!”
That comment gives me pause. I watch as he storms off to his home, dragging his feet across the ground as he goes. My
heart thunders within my chest, wondering if my words were a little too cruel.
Why should you worry about him now? He doesn’t care about your feelings, so you shouldn’t do the same for him.
Listen to what he just said! He called you a disgrace!
My nose wrinkles in disgust.
If he truly thinks I’m that much of a disgrace, then I’ll prove him wrong. I’ll show him exactly what he’s missing out on by
refusing to work with a human healer.
A new sense of determination swarms me as I make my way towards the clinic.
Abishek will regret those words. I’ll make him swallow them back down through force, if I have to.
 9

ABISHEK

amn it.”
“D My hands tremble. My breathing becomes staggered. Just as I thought I was making progress with human medicine,
just as I believed I was mastering the herbs and their combinations, I fuck up. Immensely.
“This is no good,” I mumble, wanting to take this bowl of medicinal herbs and chuck it into the nearest wall. Scatter the
stupid pieces and stomp on them until there’s nothing left. “No good! It’s shit!”
Why isn’t it working? Why can’t I incorporate the knowledge I have from Protheka? Is my training no use?
I feel like a novice, a bumbling fool who doesn’t know his lefts from his rights. No one wants to eat the medicine I make.
It’s been three days since I last poisoned someone. Since I last saw Kirsten and her contemptuous eyes.
I’m sure she would be laughing openly at me right now, if she saw how brutally I’ve fallen from grace. She doesn’t need to
humble me. My skills, or lack thereof, are doing a good job at humbling me.
What’s wrong with me… I’m not usually this inept.
Pacing around my home, I try to retrace my steps. The ingredients were added in the correct order, were they not? In the
correct quantities. A burning rage threatens to consume me as I begin to realize that maybe, just maybe, I’m in need of some
help.
And the only person around who can help me is Kirsten. That obnoxious human woman who does nothing more than serve
as a thorn in my side.
No. I won’t let this happen. I can’t let her best me.
“Damn it.” The trembling in my hands becomes too persistent. As I reach for the bowl, it slips out of my hands. And in my
fury, I throw it against the wall until the bowl turns to bits. “Damn it!”
A howl of frustration escapes me as I bang my fists into the table. I have half a mind to destroy it next, but if I act out on my
rage, I’ll be left with no furniture.
“Uli hasn’t said anything,” I mumble, picking at my face incessantly until I’m close to mutilating myself. “It’s impossible he
doesn’t know. He’s the fucking chieftain. He would have said something by now. He would have…”
My breathing quickens and my vision blurs. With no word from Uli, the more tense I become. The pressure threatens to
drag me under, making me unable to focus on anything more than my repeated failure.
What if you just asked for some help? Swallow your pride and visit Kirsten.
I scoff loudly at the petulant voice in my mind. What a foolish thing to consider! I would never do such a thing. That’s
letting her win.
Suddenly, loud knocks nearly tumble down my door. I stiffen in my spot, quickly realizing the mess I’ve made of my home.
Scattered bits of bowl are strewn across the floor. Herbs decorate my messy table, filling their air with their intoxicating scent.
A thin layer of sweat coats my skin. Do I look like a mess? I feel like one.
“Open up, Abishek! We know you’re in there!”
Shit. I recognize that voice. It’s Bodhi.
Against better judgment, I approach the window carefully and pull open the curtains. My breath catches in my throat.
Sure enough, Bodhi stands there, flanked by two other orcs whose names escape me. I can’t even remember if I’ve ever
seen them before. Am I going crazy? Or maybe it's the herbs that are making me act this delirious.
My hand sweeps across my nose as I sniffle loudly. Yes. The herbs. It’s all their fault.
“Damn it,” Bodhi mumbles loudly enough to permeate the walls. “Keep knocking. We’re not leaving until he faces us.”
That means I can’t escape through a window. They’d hear me. Then, they’d probably chase me down and humiliate me even
further.
As the seconds pass and the knocks continue on my door, it dawns upon me that I need to speak with them. Or else, they
won’t leave me alone. Why can’t anyone leave me alone? That’s all I want!
“Coming,” I reply, shaking my head. The knocks vibrate the walls. “Coming!”
I whip open the door, frowning deeply at Bodhi and his companions. My eyes trail across their grim expressions.
“What is this, Bodhi? Why are you being so aggressive? Have I committed a crime? Have I killed someone?”
Bodhi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, with the same hand, he makes a motion to the orcs beside him. “Go on.
Restrain him.”
“What?”
“Forgive me, Abishek,” he says, as the orcs push forward past the threshold of my home to take me by the arms. “I
wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t on Uli’s orders.”
Fuck. Of course Uli knew what was going on. And now I’m in trouble.
“Let go of me!” On instinct, I thrash against the hold. My arms flail as I try to punch and kick at the orcs who wrestle me to
the ground, but my exhaustion triumphs over my efforts. “You criminals! How dare you restrain me in my own home?”
“Abishek!” Bodhi exclaims, placing his hand on my shoulders and forcing me to look at him while the orcs keep me as still
as possible. “You need to stop struggling. It won’t do you any good.”
“Says who?” I retort, my arm threatening to swipe across the face of the orc on my right who digs his nails into my skin. I
want to spit in his face, but the angle makes it impossible. “Bodhi, explain this to me! Am I in trouble?”
“Uli sent us.” Then, he sighs. “Loosen your grip on him, Ulmug! We need him restrained, not beat down and broken!”
“Go ahead and break my arms. You’ll be doing me a favor,” I hiss, succumbing to their hold.
Once they feel the resolve leaving my limbs, they loosen their grip and guide me to the nearest seat. They sit me down, but
they hold me down by the shoulders to make sure I stay put. I want to yell at them, exclaim how there’s no use fighting back
against a broken orc, but that might make me look even more pathetic than I already am.
A grimace passes over Bodhi’s face as a shard of bowl cracks underneath his foot. “What have you done to yourself,
Abishek? This is no way to live.”
“That’s none of your concern,” I reply quickly, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. I suppose things could be worse. At
least it’s not Uli seeing the state of my home after practicing human medicine by myself. “Why did Uli send you? Just to torment
me more?”
Bodhi glances at the orcs on my side. Then, he nods. With that gesture, the orcs start dragging me out the door.
Fear of humiliation hits me first. I don’t want the rest of the clan to see me in this state. I have a reputation to maintain. I
used to be powerful. I used to be respected. How was I able to fall so low?
“Bodhi!” I yell, gritting my teeth against my restraints. “What’s the meaning of this? You don’t have to drag me out of my
own home, I can walk! I have two working legs! I’m not a prisoner!”
Or am I?
Bodhi pauses, lifting up his hand to make us all stop moving. He juts his bottom lip out in thought before tossing a glance
over his shoulder. That doesn’t make me feel any better. Instead, it makes me wonder if Uli has more nefarious plans for my
fate.
Was I that much of a nuisance? Does Uli want me dead?
“Don’t be so rough with him,” he reminds the orcs. Then, he turns his whole body to face us. “You know, that’s a good
word to describe the situation.”
I raise a brow.
“Prisoner,” he clarifies, followed by a smile. “You’ll understand soon enough.”
“What? I’m going to prison?”
“More like house arrest.”
My eyes widen significantly. Then, we start to move again. The orcs drag me along, allowing my feet to skid along the
ground as they whisk me away. The words echo in my mind. House arrest.
What good will I be under house arrest? What is Uli up to?
When I see him again, I’m going to let him know how stupid he is. I don’t care if he’s the chieftain. He needs to know that
he’s lost my respect for doing this to me. Is this how he treats me when he knows I’m struggling? He has the gall to kick me
while I’m down?
I blink slowly. I’m confused.
“Bodhi,” I call out. He doesn’t glance at me. “If I’m going to be under house arrest, then why aren’t you dragging me back
into my home?”
“You’ll see.”
“I don’t like that damn answer.”
“I can’t elaborate right now, Abishek, I’m sorry. You’ll understand what’s going on soon enough.”
Something strange is going on. Nothing about this makes sense, but I’m too weak to fight back and demand answers. Still, a
boiling rage simmers inside me. How dare they?
 10

KIRSTEN

toss and turn in my bed, the sheets too warm to even consider getting up from my slumber. Sighing with contentment, I melt
I into my blanket and mattress, exhausted from the last few days' events.
“All I need is a good sleep-in,” I mutter to myself. “Nothing wrong with tending to yourself on a day off. Wait!”
I shoot up, wide-eyed and frantic before I scramble out of bed.
“I’m supposed to be working today! Shit, I’m going to be late if I don’t get ready right now.”
In my frenziedness, I knock over my lamp, sending a crack up one side. I reach for it, but bump my head off a shelf as I rise.
I hold back the urge to hurl my lamp at the wall. Closing my eyes, I draw a deep breath, trying to calm my heart before it
bursts out of my chest.
“Take it easy, Kirsten,” I say aloud.
Opening my eyes, I notice that I’d been biting my nails. I manage not to break anything further as I get dressed for the day.
However, my mood dampens further when I see there’s not much in the way of food for breakfast. I shut my cupboards and
make a mental note to grab supplies on the way home.
It’s all because of that damned orc, Abishek, I think to myself. I let him and his nonsense get to me. If not for him, I
wouldn’t have forgotten to stock up.
“Whatever,” I groan. “Complaining about it won’t do anything. Besides, I’m not the one who’ll be suffering.”
I don’t feel bad for laughing at the thought of him failing to do his shaman magic. After all, it’s not my fault that he’s stuck in
the past.
Today’s environment calls for modern medicine, and while Earth has seen better days than its current state, herbs and
natural remedies can take us so much further than muttering curses and incantations.
“If only he’d get his head out of his ass and see the truth for how it is.”
My mind wanders to the clinic. I smile at the thought of spreading the heavily needed education around as many settlements
as I can.
I’m not going to sit idly by and let some idiot take charge of the next generation. This isn’t Protheka, this is Earth, this is my
home planet, not anyone else’s.
“Anyway, I better get a move on.”
I’m not about to let my morning set the tone for the day. As soon as I’m prepared, I head for the door.
“Nothing more than a bad start to the day, there’s no way it could get any worse.”
When I open the door to unexpected guests, I hear the voice in my head laughing at me. Standing there to greet me is Uli the
chieftain, my best friend Julie, and two guards whom I do not know.
“Good morning?” I say suspiciously.
Julie grimaces as she returns the greeting, while Uli glances behind me into my place as he says hello.
“Can I help you?” I ask. “Hey, what are you doing?” I blurt as Uli practically walks through me, forcing me to sidestep him.
He wanders into my home without invitation. For a moment, I’m too flabbergasted to say anything. He rambles quietly to
himself, speaking words I do not hear.
I pick up on ‘enough space for two’ but I shove it aside, eager to find out what’s happening right now.
“Yes,” he mutters.” This should do nicely, a lot bigger than his place.”
“What’s going on?” I snap to Julie, wheeling around to face her.
She simply shrugs.
“I think we all should take a seat. There’s something we have to discuss with you.”
“Look, Julie, it’s really not the best time for this.”
I turn back, glaring at Uli who strolls around, studying my home. He may be chieftain of the clan, but in my mind, that
doesn’t give him the right to intrude like this.
“We need to talk,” he says calmly, beckoning me over. “Have a seat.”
“What are you…” I mutter, baffled by his ignorance. “Look, whatever is going on will have to wait. I have to get to the
clinic so please leave.”
“Not so fast,” he remarks as I come face-to-face with the two guards. They peer down their noses at me in disgust. I return
the attitude. “You better sit down now. That’s an order.”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I snarl, biting back on the urge to insult him. I’m livid but I’m not stupid. Insulting
the orc would no doubt prove to be a bad move on my part.
“Kirsten,” Julie says, gently taking hold of my arm. “I’m sorry, but you’re under house arrest.”
I rip my arm away.
“I’m under what?!” I snap, hissing through my teeth. “House arrest? Have you lost your mind? What the hell did I do?
What’s going on? Tell me right now!”
She sighs, glancing down to the floor. A moment passes before she looks over at Uli.
“Uli, I think this is all too much for her. This is something I should handle alone.”
Uli’s gaze meets mine. He’s unfazed by my blatant anger. It only pisses me off more when he chuckles, rising to his feet.
“Very well then, I’ll go get you know who.”
“Okay.”
I wish looks could kill as I glare at Uli while he walks by me. He has that look in his eye where he knows he can have his
way, no matter what the protest of others may be.
But I’m not going down without a fight. He leaves and the guards close the door.
“Fucking coward.”
“Kirsten, that’s my husband you’re talking about.”
“And?! What gives him the right to stroll in here and kick up his feet like that? Did he forget what I did for him when you
guys were knee-deep in enemy territory? Did he forget that he led rival orcs to your old secret hideout?”
“Calm down,” she says, raising her hands. “Let’s handle this professionally.”
“Oh! I should just calm down then, should I? How the hell do you expect me to calm down when you show up unannounced
with two guards and the chieftain of the fucking settlement?”
Angry as I am, I hope that’s all she can detect. I’m doing my best not to show that I’m fearing for my life at this point.
“Then you tell me I’m under house arrest and have the fucking nerve to tell me to calm down?”
“Look, if you and I can’t have a civil discussion then we’re going-”
“So that’s what you’re doing?” I yell. “You’re taking the moral high ground now? I can't believe you Julie, after all I’ve
done for you and your mate with his shit-eating grin.”
Julie presses her tongue against her inner cheek, pronouncing an exhale through her nostrils.
“I’m sorry for this, okay? Now can I explain?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, remembering she’s not the one who calls the shots. I sigh in defeat. “Tell me everything because this is
bullshit.”
“You’re under house arrest because you did not follow Uli’s direct orders.”
“Uli’s orders?” I retort. “About what?”
“Teaching Abishek the ways of human medicine. Don’t you remember?”
“So he was serious about that?”
“What made you think he wasn’t?”
I throw my arms up in frustration.
“First of all, Abishek couldn’t give a damn about the work I do. Secondly, Uli could have reminded me.”
“You know he has to keep up his image as a leader.”
I retreat to the chairs, leaning my head back so I can stare up at the ceiling.
“This isn’t happening,” I say.
“I’m sorry it had to be like this, Kirsten.”
I know I should be angrier about this, but with each passing moment, it seems to slowly dissipate, perhaps because of the
knowledge that there’s nothing I can do.
“Well, I suppose it beats an execution or exile.”
“Exactly,” Julie replies as I look at her.
“And at least I get to stay home for a while. I could probably do with a break, but what about the clinic? There’s no one
there to fill my spot.”
“You’re looking at your temporary replacement,” she jokes. “I promise I’ll look after it the best I can. If you’re needed, I’ll
have you escorted to the clinic so don’t worry about a thing.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “I’m not happy about this, but I can take it.”
 “Oh, there’s one more—”
“Damn orcs,” I hiss. “Whatever. This beats having to teach that fool Abishek about my practice.”
“Yeah,” Julie says, grimacing once again. “About that…”
I glance at her in confusion. There then comes the sound of shouting outside, too close to my house for me to sit and listen. I
tell Julie to stay put while I check things out.
I open the door to yet another surprise, seeing Abishek being hauled toward my house by Bodhi and the same two guards
from before with Uli following some distance behind.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I say.
“Get your hands off of me!” the shaman yells. “I do not want to be here!”
“So, as I was saying,” Julie continues. “You’re not exactly going to be alone.”
 11

ABISHEK

“I said let me go!” I yell, finally ridding myself of the guards’ grip. I’d yell at Bodhi, but he took off near the end of our little
journey only to be replaced by the chieftain himself. I dust away the marks left from their grubby hands and compose
myself. “For the last time, I do not wish to be here. How many times do I need to tell you?”
“Same goes for you,” one of the guards snarls.
“You should listen to him,” Uli comments as he strolls inside. “You are here under my orders.”
“But she’s here!” I groan, pointing at the human doctor, Kirsten. I can’t stomach myself to glance her way, it’s bad enough
I’m already in her home without my consent.
“This isn’t happening,” she mutters, running a hand over her head. “I can't believe I’m actually agreeing with what this fool
is saying, but there’s no way that he and I can breathe in the same vicinity. He sickens me.”
By the gods, this woman has no filter when it comes to her choice of words. Then again, nor do I.
I clasp my hands together, feigning a smile as I step closer to the chieftain.
“Come on Uli,” I say with a forced chuckle. “None of this is right. Surely in your great mind, you know there’s no way you
can force us two to live together.”
“I can,” he says with a childish smirk. “And I will, whether you two like it or not.”
“Uli.” I smile through my teeth with restrained anger. “Remember that lovely mating ceremony that I arranged for you and
Julie?”
“Are you attempting to use that against me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Sighing, I say no more at that moment. Things could easily turn worse at any second, especially considering the fact I want
to punch the chieftain right between his eyes. He’s practically begging for it with that stupid smile of his.
“This is my home,” Kirsten snaps, pounding her fist down on a table. “I should be able to tell you all to get the hell out of
here!”
“Well too bad, you can’t,” Uli replies. “Kirsten, you were assigned the responsibility of teaching Uli the ways of modern
medicine and you failed to do so. Abishek, you never took the initiative to show up as a student on her doorstep. Both of you
must be punished for your neglect.”
“This is a load of shit,” I whisper.
“Julie, can’t you do something about this?” Kirsten whines.
“What can I do?” The chieftain’s mate shrugs.
“Speak to your damned mate,” I snarl.
“Abishek, watch your mouth,” she states.
“But I cannot live with this… this witch!” I shout.
“Did you just call me a witch? Do you realize how fucking hypocritical you sound right now?” Kirsten says. “Are you that
stupid?”
“You’re the one calling me stupid? Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not the one who relies on extinct magic while hurling out insults about witchcraft!”
“You see?” Uli laughs, beaming with a look of pride. “These two are perfect for each other. Not only am I your chieftain
but I’m a pretty good matchmaker too.”
“Good one boss,” a guard quips.
“Healers, hot-headed, stubborn, you two already have a deeper connection than you know,” Julie says, laying a hand on
Kirsten’s arm. The human doctor shoots an unimpressed look her way and shrugs her off.
“Uli, let me stress that I am perfectly willing to learn the ways of modern medicine. However, I cannot and will not learn it
from someone like her.”
 “And why is that?”
Is he actually considering this? I think to myself, stumbling over my words for a moment.
“Because my ability to learn will falter under her mentorship. I’ve always done best on my own anyway.”
“Excuse me?” Kirsten pipes from behind me.
“Need I remind you of the orcs who you poisoned?” Uli asks.
“My chieftain, they knew what they were signing up for. It’s a risk they were willing to take.”
“Not me though. How many of our men do you need to go through? Learning this kind of thing on your own is no joke, and
there may be no one left to defend the camp once you’re through. You need a mentor, and Kirsten will be the one to fulfill that
role.”
“Oh no, I won’t!” she interjects, coming between the chieftain and I.
“Kirsten!” Julie snaps, running up alongside her. “I thought you said you were fine with this.”
“I said I was fine with house arrest, not teaching Abishek. God, the two of you have selective hearing. Do you really think
he’ll learn anything under my wing?”
“Why are you so certain that this won’t work?” Julie asks.
“Why are you so certain it will?” I snap back.
“I don’t see why you don’t just accept the help you’re being offered,” Uli states. “This could all be over soon if you agree
right here, right now.”
“Well it’s not exactly an offer, is it Uli?” Kirsten hisses, her eyes blazing with fury. “Don’t insult my intelligence like that.
This man right here has no respect for what I do, and goes so far as to say I’ll hinder his learning when I already have a batch
of successful students under my teaching.”
“She and I agree on one thing and one thing only, that nothing good can come out of something so forced,” I say.
“How can someone learn what I know when they believe in an ancient way of healing that’s no longer valid?”
“Have you forgotten that I’m trying to teach myself?” I snarl.
“Not doing a very good job at it though, are you Abishek?”
“I must say,” Uli interjects. “This is incredibly entertaining. I could stay here and watch this all day. How about the two of
you take this as an opportunity to prove each other wrong?”
Kirsten throws her hands up and retreats to the couch.
“What do you mean, Uli?” I ask.
“Kirsten can see if she’s right that you can’t grasp the teachings of medicine, while you see if she truly prohibits your
ability to learn something new. How about it then, eh?”
He lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder, shaking me. I glance over at a cross Kirsten, her arms folded while she looks
away from us.
Uli is right about one thing. Nothing would indeed bring me more delight than proving that she can’t get through to me. She
turns to look my way as I think of her stupidity.
It’s at that moment our gazes meet. I’m hit then with a strange sensation, finding myself unable to look elsewhere as her
brown, deer-like eyes draw me in more and more with each passing second.
Our contact breaks when she looks toward Uli, they exchange words that I do not register. I try shaking off what just
happened, my head spinning as if a spell has been cast on me.
“How does that sound to you, Abishek?” the chieftain asks.
“Hmm?” I mutter. “What was that?”
“I said that one week should suffice.”
“Well, it’s not like I have a choice, is it?” I ask sarcastically.
“It’s one week too long if you ask me,” Kirsten says.
“Of course, it could end up taking longer than a week, but we’ll play it by ear.”
“Are we in agreement then?” a smiling Julie asks.
“Like the shaman said, none of what we say matters,” the human doctor mutters.
“Hey Kirsten, don’t be like that.”
“Get off me Julie, I’m not in the mood,” she quips, moving over to her counter.
There, she leans over it, burying her head in her hands. I take notice of her figure, my eyes wandering in admiration of her
curves.
“What are you looking at?” she growls. Only now do I realize she’s glaring right at me. “What if Abishek hurts me? What
happens then?”
“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“That clearly wasn’t the case the first time we met.”
“You know what this is? It’s your hatred for us orcs.”
“I could say the same for you and the way you treat us humans.”
 Shamefully, I turn away.
“Uli’s right, it’s like watching either of you argue with yourself in the mirror.” Julie grins. “And don’t worry Kirsten, he
won’t dare do anything to you.”
“How do you know that? You can’t guarantee my safety.”
“I can with these two guards here. They’ll be stationed outside your house should you need supplies, or of course if you’re
thinking about making some great escape.”
“They’ll come barging through the door at the slightest squeal, I can assure you,” Uli says. “Now then, I believe that about
wraps up our business here. Julie and I have other matters to attend to. Are there any more questions to be answered?”
“Yeah, can you bring me a spear so I may impale myself on it?”
One of the guards chuckles as the chieftain and his mate roll their eyes.
“Right, we’ll be off then. Goodbye and good luck to you two. You’re going to need it.”
The door shuts with an echoing finality.
So that’s it then, I think to myself with a sigh of defeat and exhaustion. I turn to face Kirsten, who I imagine to be
wondering the same question as I am. How the hell am I going to survive a whole week with her?
 12

KIRSTEN

ell, this situation couldn’t possibly be any more fucked.

W I almost immediately scold myself for thinking such a thing, remembering what happened the last time I thought
things were at their worst.
Even still, it’s safe to assume that my opinion does not at all matter in this settlement. Uli and Julie just had to have their
way, no matter how much it affected others. That’s just the way things are and there is nothing I can do about it.
“Fucking orcs,” I groan.
I look over at a sulking Abishek who sits on the opposite end of the couch. It’s as if we’re two wild animals thrown into a
cage to fight to the death while others look on in amusement, making bets on who will slaughter who first.
If they want him stuffed to the brim with knowledge, then that’s exactly what they’ll get. I’ll prove this son of a bitch
wrong any day of the week.
I swear to myself then and there that I’m going to be a ruthless teacher with no mercy for mistakes. As I glare his way, there
comes a knock at the door.
“What the fuck could it be now?” I snap.
Abishek’s eyes continue looking down past his nose as I pass him by. Marching to the door, I swing it open, met by one of
the guards who offers a staff of some kind.
He shuts the door without saying a thing. I turn around in confusion, marveling at the staff with various ornaments and
crystals hanging from it.
After a moment, I recognize it as the same one that Abishek had with him the last time we saw each other.
“I believe this is yours,” I say, rather unimpressed.
I stick it out toward him. It feels like I’m holding a toy of some kind, something made for children. He rises up and snatches
it without thanking me for it.
“You’re welcome!”
“Yeah, whatever,” he says, waving a dismissive hand before plonking himself back on the seats.
“Right, that’s it!” I snap. “Come with me!”
“Where are we going?”
He unenthusiastically follows behind as I head into the adjoining kitchen, filing through the cabinets and drawers in search
of chalk.
“Look, it’s clear that neither you nor I want to be here in the same space, but we have no choice.”
“We both know who to thank for that.”
“Damn Uli,” I moan. “In any case, if we’re going to do this, it’s best that we lay down some ground rules. That way, we can
co-exist in peace without ripping each other’s heads off.”
“Very well then,” he says, nodding in agreement. “Some decorum in a place like this would certainly serve us well.”
Biting my tongue, I hold myself back from unleashing upon him a verbal bashing. I hold up the chalk.
“What’s that for? Are we keeping score of something?”
“Watch very carefully.”
I walk by him and stand in the center of the room, just in front of the couch. There, I etch a large, white dot on the floor, and
draw straight lines leading out of either side
“What’s the purpose of—”
“Can it.”
I inspect the line, making sure it’s visible all the way. I nod to myself in thought.
“Okay, this just might work,” I say.
 “Kirsten, what on earth are you doing?” Abishek asks.
I clasp my hands together, flashing a cheeky grin his way.
“So first things first, see this line here?”
“The one that’s so clearly marked on the floor? No, I didn’t see it before you brought it to my attention.”
“Don’t be a child. This half of the house is going to be my territory,” I tell him, gesturing to the side of my bedroom. “That
half that you’re standing on is yours. Are you following so far?”
His mouth repeatedly opens and closes while he shakes his head in confusion. I continue anyway, pointing toward the
kitchen on my half.
“The kitchen is a common space that we can share to cook our meals and do our own thing, no questions asked. Regarding
the bathroom though, that’s on my side so you’ll have to come to me for permission if you need it.”
Abishek’s eyes glance back and forth between me and the bathroom. Sighing, he pinches his nose.
“Kirsten, please tell me you’re not being serious right now.”
“Hey, let’s not forget that you’re the one who’s staying in my home. What I say goes, no matter if you like it or not.”
“You sound like someone else,” he mutters. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“Neither did I, Abishek. I’m sure you’d much rather be in the comfort of your own home without your arch nemesis being
forced to reside with you.”
“You got that right,” he growls.
“Either way, this is still my home so suck it up out of respect. Giving you a whole half to yourself is me being generous, I
can reduce it if you prefer that.”
He grunts and nods quickly.
“Having a side of the house each is fine, but I’m not going to come crawling on my knees to you if I need to take a shit,
don’t humiliate me like that.”
“Well you’re going to have to, I don’t care what you think. It’s either that or go in a bucket, so the choice is yours. So, what
do you say?”
“What choice do I have? You decided what half of the house is yours without discussion.”
“And?”
He looks around, his crossed arms dropping to his side as he groans like a child. At any moment, I expect him to stamp his
feet like the child he is.
“There’s not even any windows on my side! Give me yours, that’s my one demand!”
“Not a chance!”
“Fuck this!” he yells, throwing his hands up. “This is bullshit.”
“Hey, I don’t want you here just as much as you’d rather be in your own place,” I say calmly.
“I wish I was there, learning medicine the way I want to learn it.”
“And I should be at the clinic, teaching students who have respect for me.”
He wheels around to face me again, taking a step closer. I square up to him, our faces inches from each other. Up close, I
cannot deny how gorgeous his eyes are when they’re this intense, but I quickly shove the thought away.
“I’ve noticed there’s no bed on my side,” he snarls.
“Yeah because I’m the only one who lives here, genius.”
“And as my host, you’re not going to do me the honor of letting me have the only room?”
“Again, zero chance of that happening, Abishek. Besides, you’ve got the whole living room to yourself! There’s a couch
there for you to sleep on.”
“It’s too small.”
“So sleep on the floor then.”
He runs a hand over his head, chuckling out of disbelief.
“This isn’t happening, it’s all just a nightmare.”
“Do you think this is how I expected my day to go when I woke up this morning?”
“Of course not,” he blurts. “Believe it or not, the last thing I would wish to do to you is force us to live in a place that
should be yours and yours only.”
“Again, we have Uli and his idiot mate who just so happens to be my best friend to thank for this little arrangement.”
“What other demands do you have?”
“No loud noise at night. My sleep is precious to me, and I know how loud you orcs can be. No guests allowed either, one
unwelcome guest is enough already, and I do not wish to be kept awake at night.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he sneers. “I don’t have anyone to call my own.”
At that moment, I feel a shred of sympathy for him. After all, he is just as much of a victim here as I am, and I need to
remember that.
“I still think I should get the room, for a sense of comfort in this otherwise unfamiliar environment.”
 And suddenly the sympathy dissipates.
“It’s an old human house, what could possibly go wrong?”
“Screw this,” he curses, waving me off while spinning around. He breaks into a march and disappears into one of the
storage rooms.
“Silence means you agree!” I yell out.
At least now I have a small victory to claim. I throw my hands together and retreat to my room, happy to have gotten my
way in one aspect today.
Whistling a merry tune, I close the door behind me and jump back into bed. The day had just started but already I’m tired
from the whirlwind of events that unfolded.
“Just try not to lose your head,” I say to myself. “I’ve survived worse than this. What can one orc do? Certainly not prove
me wrong, that much is for sure.”
 13

ABISHEK

hat has only been a handful of hours has felt more like days on end in this hellhole. I pace back and forth in the living
W room, occasionally sitting down just to get back up because I need to keep moving. Worse yet, I do not know what to
do.
As I mull my frustrations to myself, I look towards the one room that I should have had, where Kirsten is likely relishing in
the comfort of her bed.
In only a few hours, she has proven to be every bit as hateful as everyone says she is. It’s no wonder why us orcs don’t get
along with this wretched human.
“If only her personality was as good as her looks, then maybe she wouldn’t be so bad. How dare she make me ask to use
the bathroom? I’m no child! I…”
I stop talking aloud for the time being, realizing the words fall on no one’s ears but my own.
I cast a look around the house. Admittedly, it’s not half as bad as I thought it would be but it’s a shame I’m entitled to only
half of it.
My eyes wander and eventually settle on the line of chalk running centrally through the building. The instant I notice it, a
raging fury boils my blood to the point where it feels like my skin is steaming.
My chest inflates with anger as I try to calm myself down, taking long breaths in an effort to do so. Even worse is the
aching sensation just between my eyes. My head feels as though it’s ready to explode at any given moment.
“I can’t believe this,” I mutter. “And it’s still only the first day too. How the hell am I supposed to survive seven whole
days of this?”
My eyes dart to the door. Running away suddenly sounds like an enticing idea.
“I could dodge those guards and run for it,” I say, stroking my chin in contemplation. “People underestimate how fast a
shaman can move when the situation calls for it… No, who am I kidding? Where the hell would I go anyway? They’d catch me
sooner or later.”
Sighing in defeat, I look away. Besides, Uli would likely only dish out a longer sentence here as a result. Ultimately, I have
no choice but to stick it out here for now.
“I could do with something to eat,” I say when my stomach growls.
I hadn’t yet eaten a single morsel of food today.
“Maybe a big lunch will help relieve me of my sorrows.”
I step over the line, making my way into the kitchen. It feels good not to have to ask to use such a basic amenity. That would
only make me lose my mind.
On any bad day, a good and hearty meal never fails to make things better. The art of human food was one of the few things I
had come to appreciate about living on Earth.
When I lost my powers way back when the orcs first came here, learning how to cook was a comfort that helped me take
my mind off of losing my powers. Here, it’s now going to help me cope with living in a mad woman’s house.
“Anyway, let’s see what we have here…”
I open each cupboard and cabinet in sight, rifling through everything to find nothing more than simple fruit and soft, bland
biscuits.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I hiss, checking every nook and cranny in a hungered frenzy. “Where the hell is all of the
good stuff? There’s no meat or anything! Does Kirsten not eat?”
Great, I think to myself. The one thing I’d been looking forward to was a good meal, and yet there’s nothing for it except
for stinking fruit.
Sighing, I close the cabinets and make my way to the door. I open it to the sight of the guards spinning around, their spears
readied as I step forward.
“Halt! Where do you think you’re going?”
I roll my eyes.
“I need some cooking supplies and equipment, there’s nothing to eat in this damn house.”
The guards lower their weapons.
“Very well, what do you require?”
“Everything. Pots, pans, that kind of thing. As far as food goes, fetch me some meat and vegetables, would you? And a fresh
loaf of bread.”
“A lot to ask all at once.”
“Is it not your job to bring supplies as requested?”
One of the guards grunts and moves off to fetch the supplies. I step out and take his place, leaning back against the wall.
“Get back inside!”
“Just let me have some air, will you? I’m not going anywhere. Besides, you wouldn’t believe these damn rules the human
doctor is putting up for me. No windows on my side of the house or anything. I’ll probably have to sleep on the floor because
the damn couch is too small for me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I… You know what? Never mind.”
I shut my mouth. The guard’s job is to keep me restricted to the house, not listen to my woes of misery. A few minutes later,
the other guard returns with the supplies and I head back inside.
“Finally, something good to eat,” I marvel, looking at all the fresh ingredients.
I lay everything out on the counter: some deer meat, a plump loaf of bread, and plenty of vegetables to work with. I have the
ingredients for a heartwarming stew.
I take a deep breath and reset myself. Things may have turned upside down but I could at the very least still eat the way I
want to eat.
I get to work preparing the meat, searing its exterior before cutting it into chunks. I then peel the skin off of the vegetables
and dice them down, throwing everything into a big pot for boiling.
I add some water and all the necessary spices, taste testing as I go to adjust the seasoning where needed. Soon, a mouth-
watering aroma fills the air, and my hunger grows by the second.
I slice some more vegetables. My precision with a knife is clean and impeccable. I add the final batch of ingredients to the
stew, throwing in some extra garlic and the drippings from the meat.
As I salt the stew, I hear very faint footsteps coming my way. I look to the corner of my peripherals where I spot Kirsten
poking her head out from the wall.
She must be hungry too, I think to myself. I cooked this grand feast for myself, but maybe I should ask if she’s hungry
too.
Just as I’m about to, I think of all the stupid rules she has set in place. A malicious voice inside my head makes me realize
this is my choice for a spot of revenge.
I stay quiet as she comes out and lingers around the counter. I keep myself busy,
slicing the bread and toasting it in the pan with a sprinkle of oil and salt. A nutty aroma fills the air, adding to the already
wonderful scent of the kitchen.
A devious idea springs to mind just as the stew is about ready. Taking a spoon, I dip it inside the pot and bring it to my
mouth.
“Mmm, a perfect taste test!” I exclaim.
From the corner of my eye, I see Kirsten licking her lips as I dish out the contents into a sizable bowl. Placing the bread on
the side, I dust my hands off and bring everything to the table. I’m about to sit down when she clears her throat. I look up at her,
feigning surprise.
“Oh! Forgive me, I did not see you there Kirsten.”
“I see you got yourself a spot of lunch,” she says, her hungry eyes aimed at my stew.
“Indeed I did,” I tell her with an evil grin. “Perhaps you’d like something to eat as well?”
She looks away for a moment, perhaps from hesitation before returning her gaze to me. I can tell she is hesitant to accept,
but by the gods, I want her to just so I can do what I planned.
“Yeah, that would be great,” she mutters.
“Very well.”
I grab a bowl from the cupboard and hand it to her. She looks at in confusion.
“Abishek, this is empty.”
“Yes? What’s the problem?”
“I… thought you were offering me some of your stew.”
 “I asked if you wanted something to eat, and you said yes, I never said it’d be my food. You’ll have to cook for yourself.”
I can’t help but smirk at her. I tuck into my food, exaggerating each bite with moans of rapture.
“This is delicious.”
I stare her in the eye, a wave of satisfaction running over me as I exact my revenge. This was a round I had won and I was
taking every ounce of pleasure it brought me.
On her face is a look of defeat and disbelief.
“Oh well,” I say. “Maybe next time treat your guest with hospitality and it shall be returned.”
She snarls at me and rears around, retreating into her bedroom.
Nice work Abishek, I think to myself with a smile.
 14

KIRSTEN

he bastard orc had the gall to make a mockery of me and in my own damn house at that. Abishek sits there, stuffing his
T face with a gourmet dish.
Meanwhile, I’m standing here with an empty bowl like a fool, glancing into a dirty pot. The last thing I’m going to do
is remain out here while he eats.
I put down the bowl and grab some meager fruit, rolling my eyes at the idiot before heading back to the solitude of my
room.
Still, the aroma seeps through the gap underneath my door, only making my hunger grow worse even as I eat my fruit. It’s
torture at this point.
My stomach rumbles long after I finish eating, my stomach growling loudly. I need a proper meal but I know there’s nothing
out there except for a miserable shaman who wants nothing more than to rub it in my face.
“I should be at the clinic at this time,” I grumble, looking at the time. “My work keeps me on my toes, so much so I forget to
eat.”
There’s nothing better for me to do with my time, giving way for trivial thoughts like hunger to creep their way into my
mind.
“I’m not going out while he’s still there,” I mutter, hearing the clanging of pots and pans. “At least he’s cleaning up after
himself. Hmm, who’d have thought a guy like him would know how to cook? Perhaps he’s not totally incompetent.”
I laugh at my own joke. It’s the first time I had seen Abishek succeed at something without making a mess of the things or
people around him, but he is still an asshole for refusing to share with me.
I fend off the hunger for a while, painfully at least, by reading about herbs while I wait for Abishek to leave the kitchen.
When all goes quiet outside, I creep to my door and open it gently.
He’s nowhere to be seen. It’s safe enough for me to come out. I tiptoe to the door, meeting the guards stationed right outside.
“Hey,” I whisper. “Can you get me something to eat?”
“We just brought you food an hour ago.”
“No, you brought Abishek food an hour ago. The shaman bastard gave me nothing, so please just get me something to eat
before I lose my mind.”
“Very well.”
I close the door, sighing with frustration.
At least I’ll be eating, I think to myself as I turn around. And not in the company of that— Oh shit.
Abishek stands just a few feet ahead of me with a shit-eating grin on his face. I clench my fists.
“What in the hell is so funny?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs.
“I have a good mind to slap that smirk off of your face right now.”
“Yeah, but you won’t.”
“What makes you so sure?” I hiss, stepping closer.
“Because Uli will punish you even further in that case.”
Snarling, my hands drop to my side. I hate that he’s right. At the mention of Uli, I suddenly remember the task at hand.
Seven days I have to stuff this son of a bitch with knowledge. I’m going to do it no matter what it takes.
“Listen up Abishek, you best go get yourself ready for our first lesson. We start after I finish my lunch.”
“No,” he quips, waving me off. “I’m not in the mood today.”
“Well neither am I, shit for brains, but we have seven days to fill that head of yours with all the basics of human medicine. I
remember what you said earlier about how I’d slow you down, well I’m going to prove you wrong.”
 “Oh, is that so?” he says, raising his voice.
“You bet,” I snap back at him. “By the time I’m through with you, you’ll recite all there is to know about human medicine.
That way, you won’t have a reason to say you can’t learn because of me.”
“Try me,” he snarls.
This son of a…
“You know something? You’re one ignorant bastard, but I’m still going to teach you everything I know whether you like it
or not.”
“Whatever.”
He crosses his arms and looks away.
“What is it?” I tease, mimicking his gesture as I walk over. “Can a shaman not handle real medicine?”
“No, I just doubt that you can do it.”
“Hmm, you’re a confident orc, Abishek, but remember that you could be underestimating me.”
“I can learn whatever I need to without a problem. If I can study ancient spell tomes and recite centuries-old spells off the
top of my heart then I can do this.”
“This isn’t a joke Abishek, this is human medicine. We’re not on Protheka. This is Earth, things work a little differently
here.”
He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Listen to me, this is important and I can’t stress that enough,” I tell him. “Without knowledge like this, many would die
from injuries and illness. It’s literally life-saving information.”
He walks backward, his gaze still lingering on me for a moment before he retreats to the kitchen. I follow him, eager to get
my point across.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Do you know what annoyed me?” he suddenly says with a hiss, taking me aback. “It’s that I have a genuine interest in this.
I didn’t like the whole idea of conventional medicine at first, but now that I want to learn it, I’m doing it in a way that’s so
unfair.”
I cross my arms and let the man speak. It’s clear he needs to vent some before our discussion can go any further.
“There’s always been pressure on me to give up what I did for my entire life. It’s incredibly difficult to walk away from
your identity and reshape who you are. I finally gave in but I can't even do it on my own terms.”
He shrugs and looks at me. In his eyes is a rare glimpse of vulnerability. I’ve never been one to feel empathy for an orc but
there’s a first time for everything.
“Forget I said anything,” he quips.
“Wait,” I say. “Look, I get it, alright? It’s been said time and time again that neither of us wanted things to go this way. We
both have our reasons to be angry, especially at each other, but we both need to do this.”
He grunts something I don’t quite catch.
“Abishek, you must do your best despite our disdain for one another. Nothing is going to change the fact that I’m your
teacher, whether we like it or not.”
“Well how can I learn from you?!” he snaps, raising a hand at me.
“Because you have no choice! Imagine the reaction that Uli will have if he comes back in a week to see no progress was
made. Do you want to find that out?”
“No,” he grumbles. “Not particularly.”
“Right, it’s not on my to-do list either.”
Before I can say anything further, there comes a loud knock on my door. It’s the guard who delivers my lunch. As he hands
me the bag, his eyes shoot back and forth between Abishek and I.
“Can we help you?” I hiss.
“Not at all,” he says with a grin.
I return to the kitchen, opening the bag of food to find a dry piece of meat and hardened, almost stale bread.
“Great,” I mutter.
My mind flashes to Abishek’s stew. I’d much rather prefer that than the garbage they have just delivered to me. I shrug it off
and tuck into my meal, trying to enjoy it as best I can.
“As I was saying,” I continue. “The way I see things is that there’s no way out of this, so we just have to make the best out
of what is undoubtedly a less-than-ideal situation.”
Abishek takes a seat across from me. He leans forward on the table. We haven't been this close before, and I hate that I
think of him as more of a meal than the crap I’m eating. I look down at my food.
Stop making yourself obvious!
“Kirsten?” he says gently. “Are you actually going to teach me?”
“Yeah, of course I am,” I reply, stunned for a moment by the sincerity in his voice. “I’m hardly going to gatekeep essential
knowledge from a fellow practitioner.”
“I just wanted to prove to everyone that I’m not some crazy shaman.”
“Then do your best, for everyone’s sake. Don’t think of it as doing it for me or to prove me wrong.”
“But I do not wish to owe you anything, Kirsten.”
I raise an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair. I push away the half-eaten meal.
“How about home-cooked meals?” I ask.
“What?”
“You’re a good cook from what I’ve seen, and I love to eat as much as I love medicine. So how about in exchange for
teaching you, you look after cooking for both of us?”
“Hmm,” he mutters.
The lack of immediate refusal seems to be a good sign. I extend my hand out to him.
“Do we have a deal?”
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Great Queen Street, and yet the fact that it also deals with the steps to be taken
against “one Holford and his tennantes” for their default in allowing “the streete in
Drury Lane in his Maties ordinary way” to be very noisome, seems to point to the
Theobalds route. Perhaps the fields north of Holborn are referred to.
165. The entrance became known as “Hell Gate” or “Devil’s Gap.” The
widening of the street to its present measurements is said to have been carried out
in 1765 (Blott’s Blemundsbury, p. 370).
166. Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1611–18, James I., vol. 69 (36).
Robert Cecil was created Earl of Salisbury in May, 1605; he died in May, 1612.
167. This form of the name occurs frequently.
168. See p. 14.
169. In January, 1669–70, references occur to “John Jones, the master of the
White Swan in Queen Street, Drury Lane,” and “John Jones, victualler, at the
White Swan in Queen’s Street” (Historical MSS. Commission, Ho. of Commons
Calendar, App. to 8th Rep. I., 155b, 157a). As late as 8th April, 1677, a letter was
addressed to “Don Manuel Fonseca, Queen Street” (Calendar of State Papers,
Domestic, 1677–8, p. 82). On the other hand, the title Great Queen Street is found
in 1667 as the address of Viscount Conway (Ibid., 1667, p. 535), and occurs even in
a passage which must have been written at least fifteen years earlier (see p. 50).
170. See, e.g. Wheatley and Cunningham’s London, Past and Present, III., p.
135: “The houses in the first instance were built on the south side only”;
Heckethorn’s Lincoln’s Inn Fields, p. 171; Parton’s Hospital and Parish of St. Giles,
p. 133.
171. See p. 50.
172. See p. 35.
173. Lease to Edward Fort of 18th May, 1612, quoted in indenture of 10th
February, 1625, between Jane and Richard Holford and Jeoffery Prescott (Close
Roll, 22 Jas. I. (2601)).
174. In the absence of deeds relating to the early history of Nos. 14–35, it is
impossible to be more precise. There may, of course, have been gaps in the north
side (excluding Nos. 1–6) even later than 1612. In the Subsidy Rolls of 21 James I.
(1623–4) and 4 Charles I. (1628–9), preserved at the Record Office, thirteen names
of occupiers of houses in the street are given, and the assessment in 1623 for the
rebuilding of St. Giles’ Church gives fifteen housekeepers in the street (Parton,
Hospital and Parish of St. Giles, p. 136n). No adequate idea of the number of
houses in the street can, however, be gained from these facts, for the subsidy rolls
certainly do not give all the occupiers, and, as the assessment was not compulsory,
it is improbable that every householder made a contribution.
175. History of ... St. Giles-in-the-Fields and St. George, Bloomsbury, p. 58.
 176. No evidence has come to light in the course of the investigations for this
volume whereby Lord Herbert’s house might be identified. In his will, dated 1st
August, 1648, proved 5th October, 1648, he refers more than once to his “house in
Queene Streete”. (Somerset House Wills, Essex, 138).
177. Close Roll, 18 Chas. I. (3295).—Indenture between W. Newton and
Francis Thriscrosse.
178. Close Roll, 15 Chas. I. (3192).
179. Close Roll, 15 Chas. I. (3190)—Indenture between W. Newton and Ric.
Webb, Nicholas Redditt and Jeremy Deane.
180. Harl. MS., 5,900, fol. 57b.
181. Indenture, dated 7th February, 1734–5, between John Bigg and Peter
Guerin. (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1734, V., 85.)
182. British Museum, Crace Colln., Portfolio 28, No. 53.
183. It is possible that in 1646 Sir Martin Lumley was resident at this house,
but not certain. In the Subsidy Roll for that year his name is the first on the north
side of the street, and precedes Sir Thos. Barrington’s, who, it may be proved, lived
at No. 3. It may be, therefore, that Lumley was the occupant of No. 1.
184. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Baronetage, II., p. 80.
185. Reproduced here.
186. Elizabeth Killigrew, Lewis Richardes, Thomas Stoake.
187. Lewis Richardes.
188. See p. 35.
189. It is given (Close Roll, 22 Jas. I. (2601).—Indenture between Jane and
Richard Holford and Jeoffrey Prescott) as the eastern boundary of Prescott’s
property, which extended along the north side of Great Queen Street from Drury
Lane, and the length of which is given as 120 feet. Thus the Prescott property was
on the site of the present Nos. 38 to 45. A deed dated 20 June, 1721, refers to
property of which Seagood’s house had formerly formed the western boundary.
This deed gives the names of the occupants of the houses to which it relates both in
1636 and at that time, and the latter list clearly identifies the property as Nos. 26 to
35, thus leaving 36 and 37 for Seagood’s house. That this house corresponded to
two numbers is rendered quite certain by a careful comparison of the entries in the
series of Hearth Tax Rolls. In fact, the house is on two occasions taxed for 30
hearths, which seems an over estimate, as the assessment is afterwards reduced to
24 hearths. Even this implies a very large house.
190. Close Roll, 13 Chas. II. (3123).—Indenture between Henry Holford and
Paul Williams, etc.
191. Reproduced here.
 192. Close Roll, 5 Chas. I. (2800). Indenture between Richard Holford and Sir
Edw. Stradling—reciting indenture of 1618.
193. See Recovery Roll, 9 Chas. I. rot. 23 (201). Indenture between Edward
Stradling and George Gage.
194. See p. 93.
195. Close Roll, 5 Chas. I. (2800). Indenture between Richard Holford and Sir
William Cawley and Geo. Strode.
196. Calendar State Papers, Domestic, 1629–31, p. 47.
197. Calendar State Papers, Domestic, 1629–35, p. 55.
198. See p. 93.
199. Close Roll, 11 Chas. I. (3059). Indenture between Sir Kenelm Digby and
William Newton.
200. He succeeded his father as Earl of Carnwath in 1639.
201. Patent Roll, 12 Chas. I. (2740).
202. The means taken to enforce a uniform design may be gathered from the
fact that the purchaser of certain plots to the west of Nos. 55–56 was required to
build three houses “to front and range towards Queenes Streete ... in the same
uniformity, forme and beauty as the other houses already ... erected by the said
William Newton in Queenes Streete are of.”
203. The evidence for this statement is gathered from the undermentioned
illustrations:
No. 51. Sir Robert Strange’s House (Parton’s Hospital and Parish of St. Giles,
p. 250), 3 bays, 4 pilasters. Western portion of third plot 41 feet wide.
Nos. 55–6, 57–8. Bristol House (Ibid.). Double façade each 44 feet wide, 5
bays, 6 pilasters. Fifth plot 88 feet wide.
Nos. 55–6, 57–8. J. Nash, 1840. (The Growth of the English House, J. Alfred
Gotch.)
Original Freemasons’ Tavern. Engraving by Joseph Bottomley, 1783. 5 bays, 6
pilasters. Seventh plot 44 feet wide.
Queen Street Chapel (Parton, op. cit. p. 250). Western portion of tenth plot 59
feet 6 inches wide.
No. 70. (Photograph taken by the London County Council in 1903.) Refronted
on old lines, 4 bays, 5 pilasters on plot 35 feet wide.
204. Survey of London, Vol. III. (St. Giles-in-the-Fields, Part I.), p. 97.
205. II., p. 174.
206. See p. 86.
 207. See full quotation on p. 45 footnote.
208. Harl. MS., 5,900, 57b.
209. The reason why Lindsey House is now not in the middle of the west side
of the Fields is that in the original design the west row extended from Gate Street
to No. 2, Portsmouth Street. The building of the houses on the north and south
sides of the Fields, not included in the original design, encroached on both sides of
the west row, but the encroachment on the north being the greater, the axis of the
square was thereby moved further south.
210. British Museum. J. W. Archer Collection. “The house called Queen Anne’s
Wardrobe,” drawn 1846 (No. 55–6, Great Queen Street) and “House of the
Sardinia Ambassador,” drawn 1858 (No. 54, Lincoln’s Inn Fields).
211. “The expert surveyour will repart the windows to the front of a palace,
that they may (besides the affording of sufficient light to the rooms) leave a solid
peeres between them, and to place some pleasing ornament thereon, not
prejudicial to the structure, nor too chargeable for the builder, shunning
incongruities, as many (pretending knowledge in ornaments) have committed, by
placing between windows pilasters, through whose bodies lions are represented to
creep; as those in Queen Street without any necessity, or ground for the placing
lions so ill, which are commonly represented but as supporters, either of weight, or
of arms on herauldry.” (Counsel and Advice to All Builders, pp. 13–14.)
212. See p. 38.
213. Anecdotes of Painting, II., p. 60.
214. Survey of London, Vol. III. (St. Giles-in-the-Fields, Part I.), Plate 6.
215. It was assessed for the hearth tax at 40 hearths, while Conway House,
although of the same frontage, was only assessed at 31.
216. The frontage of this house is stated in certain deeds in the London County
Council’s possession (e.g., Indenture of 26th October, 1639, between Wm. Newton
and Compton, Dive and Brewer) to be 98 feet, but in others (e.g., Release by Wm.
Newton senr., to Wm. Newton, junr., dated 22nd January, 1637–8) is given as 88
feet. That the latter is correct may be regarded as certain from the perfect accord of
the total number of feet thus obtained with the present boundaries.
217. The deeds from which these particulars are taken are (1) Close Roll, 15
Chas. I. (3196)—Indenture between Wm. Newton and Sir Ralph Freeman; and (2)
a deed in the possession of the Council—Indenture between Newton and Sir Henry
Compton, etc. The former deed, in error, reverses the eastern and western
boundaries.
218. A release by deed poll from Wm. Newton the elder to Wm. Newton the
younger, in the possession of the London County Council.
219. Close Roll, 5 Geo. I. (5117)—Indenture dated 16th May, 4 Geo. I., between
Sir John Webb and Thos. Stonor, and Sir Godfrey Kneller, etc.
 220. Mr. Stonor inhabited the western half of the original house, now forming
Nos. 55 and 56; Mr. Browne was in occupation of the eastern half, afterwards Nos.
57 and 58.
221. Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1832, V., 93.
222. See p. 53.
223. Survey of London, Vol. III. (St. Giles-in-the-Fields. Part I.), Plate 66.
224. In possession of the London County Council.
225. Close Roll, 15 Charles I. (3196). Indenture between Wm. Newton and Sir
Ralph Freeman.
226. Marginal note in his private journal (Memoirs and letters of Marquis of
Clanricarde, ed. by K. De Burgh, p. 68).
227. Deed in possession of the London County Council.
228. Memoirs and Letters of the Marquis of Clanricarde, p. xiv.
229. Hist. MSS. Comm.; MSS. of the Earl of Egmont, I., p. 223.
230. Constitutional History of England (ed. 1854) III., 389n.
231. Somerset House Wills, Nabbs, 117.
232. She was Catherine, daughter of Francis Russell, Earl of Bedford; her
husband, Robert Greville, second Baron Brooke, distinguished himself as a general
of the parliamentary forces in the Civil War, and was killed at Lichfield in 1643.
Fulke Greville, who was not born until after his father’s death, eventually
succeeded to the title, and died in 1710.
233. Close Roll, 1654 (3814).
234. Sir William Constable was afterwards possibly an occupant of the house,
for on 24th May, 1647, he wrote to the old Lord Fairfax from “Queen Street.” (Hist.
MSS. Comm.; Morrison MSS., Report IX., Part II., App. p. 439.) Constable had
married in 1608, Dorothy, daughter of Thomas, first Lord Fairfax. He contrived
with difficulty to raise a regiment of foot in the Civil War, and greatly distinguished
himself in the field. He was afterwards one of the king’s judges and signed the
warrant for his execution. He died in 1655.
235. C. R. Markham’s The Great Lord Fairfax, p. 191.
236. Ibid., p. 254.
237. Ibid., p. 274. The old lord had recently married again. He announced the
fact to his brother in a letter dated “Queen Street, October 20th, 1646.”
238. Hist. MSS. Comm., Pembroke College MSS., Report V., App. p. 487.
239. He was still in the parish (possibly in this house) in 1658, for Parton
quotes (Hospital and Parish of St. Giles, p. 356) an entry in the churchwardens’
accounts for that year: “Pd. and expended at the sessions, about Sir William
Paston’s complaynt, of his being double rated.”
240. Close Roll, 15 Chas. II. (4143)—Indenture between the Hon. John Digby
and Sir Anthony Morgan and Richard Langhorne.
241. Described in Survey of London, Vol. IV. (Chelsea, Part II.), pp. 18–27.
242. Some time between 1666 and 1675 he removed to No. 51, Lincoln’s Inn
Fields (Survey of London, Vol. III., p. 71).
243. See also North’s account: “The great House in Queen Street was taken for
the use of this Commission. Mr. Henry Slingsby sometime Master of the Mint, was
the Secretary; and they had a formal Board with Green Cloth and standishes,
clerks’ good store, a tall Porter and staff and sitting attendance below, and a huge
Luminary at the Door. And, in Winter Time, when the Board met, as was two or
three times a week, or oftener, all the Rooms were lighted, Coaches at the Door,
and great passing in and out, as if a Council of State in good earnest had been
sitting. All cases, Complaints and Deliberations of Trade were referred to this
Commission, and they reported their opinion, whereupon the King in Council
ordered as of course. So that they had the Province of a Committee of Council; and
the whole Privy Council was less charge to the King than this.” (Examen, p. 461.)
244. The Council of Trade was established on 7th November, 1660, and by
patent dated 1st December in the same year Charles II. also created the Council of
Foreign Plantations. (Haydn’s Book of Dignities, 1894, p. 263.)
245. Slingsby writes on behalf of the Council for Foreign Plantations from
Queen Street, on 27th April, 1671. (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1671, p.
204.)
246. In October, 1672, the Council of Plantations was united to that of Trade
(Evelyn, Diary, 13th October, 1672), and the united Council seems thenceforth to
have utilised a portion of “Villiers House,” the house of the Duchess of Cleveland.
(Audit Office, Declared Accounts, Trade, etc., 2303 (2)).
247. See schedules of deeds appended to Indentures between Thos. Stonor,
etc., and Sir Godfrey Kneller, dated 11th and 12th March, 1717–8 (Close Roll, 5 Geo.
I. (5117)).
248. Chancery Warrants (Series II.), Signet Office, 16th April, 1669 (21 Chas.
II., 2386).
249. Indenture of 24th June, 1674, between Sir Chas. Harboard and John
Hanson, by direction of the Earl of Devonshire, and the Earl of Sunderland, recited
in Indenture of 12th March, 1717–8, between Thos. Stonor, etc. and Sir Godfrey
Kneller (Close Roll, 5 Geo. I. (5117)). Sunderland’s purchase of the Earl of Bristol’s
interest in the freehold was not effected until February, 1683–4 (Deed in
possession of the London County Council) just before his sale of the premises.
 250. The fact that the 1675 Hearth Tax Roll shows the Earl of Devonshire at
the house is not conclusive against this, as it is probable, from other
considerations, that this particular roll, though bearing the date 1675, represents
the state of affairs in 1674.
251. Dictionary of National Biography.
252. Dictionary of National Biography.
253. Freehold and 99 years’ lease in April, subsidiary lease in June.
254. Second son of Thomas, first Lord Fauconberg, a prominent royalist. Died
in 1689.
255. Will of Lord Belasyse, quoted in Indenture of 12th March, 1717–8,
between Thos. Stonor, etc., and Sir Godfrey Kneller (Close Roll, 5 Geo. I. (5117)).
256. Indenture of 12th March, 1717–8, between Thos. Stonor, etc., and Sir
Godfrey Kneller (Close Roll, 5 Geo. I. (5117)).
257. The sewer ratebook for 1703 (representing probably the state of things in
the previous year) shows “Thomas Stonor, Esq.” still in occupation; that for 1709
(the next issue) gives “Sir Godfrey Kneller.” The Dictionary of National Biography
says he purchased the house in 1703, but this is obviously an error. (See above).
258. Somerset House Wills, Richmond, 161.
259. The statement seems to have originated with Horace Walpole (Anecdotes
of Painting, Wornum ed. (1888), II., pp. 209–210).
260. Munk’s Roll of the Royal College of Physicians, I., p. 456.
261. London Past and Present, III., p. 137.
262. See p. 76.
 263. A deed of 27th November, 1745, shows “Lady Goodyear” and Mr. Charles
Leviez then in occupation. (Midd. Registry Memorials, 1745, III., No. 156).
264. Sir Godfrey Kneller left his Great Queen Street property to his wife for
her lifetime, with reversion to his godson, Godfrey Kneller Huckle, “provided the
surname of Kneller be adopted.” Godfrey Kneller, the younger, died in 1781, and
his son, John Kneller, in 1814.
265. Bryan’s Dictionary of Artists; Walpole’s Anecdotes, p. 702.
266. The Dictionary of National Biography is in error in stating that he added
this house to the other.
267. Redgrave’s Dictionary of Painters and Engravers.
268. Leask’s James Boswell, p. 125.
269. Nichol’s Illustrations of Literature, VII., pp. 308–9.
270. Details of Boswell’s residence there are given in the Council’s publication,
Indication of Houses of Historical Interest, I., pp. 79–84.
271. III., p. 137.
272. Holden’s Triennial Directory for 1802–4.
273. Reproduced here.
274. See p. 47.
275. “All that messuage ... lately divided into two shops or dwelling houses.”
Indenture, dated 7th October, 1813, between Sophia Kneller and G. J. Kneller and
Thos. Crook. (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1813, IX., 129.) The ratebook for
1812 shows the house in single occupation.
276. Close Roll, 17 Chas. I. (3275)—Indenture between Edward, Lord Viscount
Conway, Edw. Burghe, and William Newton and Elizabeth, Countess Rivers.
277. Release and quit claim by Wm. Newton, jnr., in possession of the London
County Council.
278. The house was still standing on 12th February, 1738–9 (see indenture of
that date between Philip Carter and Jas. Mallors, Middlesex Registry Memorials,
1739, I., 450–1), but by 22nd May in that year it had been demolished, the two
houses fronting Great Queen Street were then in course of erection, and others
were intended to be built. The parish ratebook for 1739 shows the house as
“Empty”; that for 1740 gives: “Empty. 12 houses made out of one.”
279. That the archway was exactly in the centre may be proved by the fact that
when the two houses were sold to Jas. Mallors in the year 1742, they were each
described as 22 feet in width, including half of the passage into Queen’s Court
(Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1741, IV., 424 and 1742, I., 435).
 280. Between Thomas Wither and Thomas Raye (Common Pleas Recovery
Roll, 26 Chas. II., Trinity, Rot. 4).
281. Feet of Fines, Middlesex, 13 Chas. I., Trinity.
282. (27th January, 1650–1.) “Col. Berkstead to take care for the pulling down
of the gilt image of the late Queen, and also of the King, the one in Queen Street,
and the other at the upper end of the same street, towards Holborn, and the said
images are to be broken in pieces.” (Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1651, p.
25.)
283. Recovery Roll (Common Pleas), 17 Chas. I., Hilary, 236.—Indenture
between William Newton, Philip Willoughby and Edward Mabb and Edward
Burghe.
284. Afterwards Middle Yard.
285. See p. 82.
286. See Indenture of 18th May, 16 Geo. II., between Lord Conway and
Francis Paddy (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1743, I., 334–5).
287. Henry Sadler, Some memorials of the Globe Lodge No. 23 of the Ancient
Free and Accepted Masons of England, p. 11.
288. Documents and drawings preserved in the Soane Museum.
289. Photographs of various modern features, although not coming properly
within the scope of this volume, have been inserted for the purpose of showing the
historic continuity of the buildings on the site of the old Hall.
290. The premises had been purchased in 1880. (Middlesex Registry
Memorials, 1880, 962).
291. Indenture of 5th March, 1718–9, between Lord Montagu, etc. (1), William
Juxon and Jas. St. Amond (2), and Sir Godfrey Kneller and Ed. Byng (3), in the
possession of the London County Council.
292. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.
293. The sewer ratebook for this year shows “Henry Browne” in occupation of
the house, but that for 1700 has the entry “— Webb, Esq.,” referring to the owner.
294. The sewer ratebook for this year shows “Henry, Lord Montague” in
occupation.
295. Burke’s Extinct Peerage.
296. For other houses used for the purpose of the Portuguese Embassy in St.
Giles-in-the-Fields, see p. 97, and Survey of London, Vol. III., pp. 13, 82.
297. Somerset House Wills, Richmond, 161.
298. The house is referred to later on as “all that messuage, etc., formerly
called by the name of the Great Wardrobe” (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1811,
VI., 104). It will be noticed that the title “Queen Anne’s Wardrobe” given to the
western half of Bristol House in 1846 (Plate 16) is doubly incorrect. In the first
place it is assigned to the wrong half of Bristol House, and secondly the dates show
that it could not possibly have had any connection with Queen Anne.
299. See copy of deed, dated 11th March, 1708–9, for the appointment of
Dummer as deputy. (Treasury Papers, Cal. 1708–14, CXIII., No. 12.)
300. Shortly before 4th February, 1774, Sheridan took a house in Orchard
Street (Sanders’ Life of Sheridan, p. 23).
301. His name in the ratebooks is given as “Richard Sheridan” only, but a deed
of 1811, giving the names of occupants of the house mentions him by his full name:
“formerly in occupation of Benjamin Wilson, painter, afterwards of John
Henderson, sometime since in the possession of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and
now of Ann Boak, milliner.” (Indenture of 20th June, 1811, between Jno. Kneller,
Peter Tahairdin, and Thos. Grove—Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1811, VI., 104.)
302. Moore’s Memoirs of Sheridan, p. 213.
303. F. M. Parsons’ Garrick and His Circle, p. 369. As an example of how false
history comes to be written, it is interesting to note that Mrs. Parsons describes the
house as “an Inigo Jones house, in which five men known to fame: Hudson, the
painter; scritch-scratch Worlidge, the etcher; Hoole, Tasso’s translator, whom
Johnson loved; now Sheridan; and after him, Chippendale, the cabinet maker,
successively lived.” None of the other individuals mentioned lived in the house
occupied by Sheridan.
304. See p. 59.
305. Stafford’s Letters (Ed. Wm. Knowler, 1739), II., p. 165
306. Calendar State Papers, Domestic, 1638–9, p. 113.
307. Close Roll, 17 Charles I. (3275). Indenture between Lord Conway, Edw.
Burghe and Wm. Newton and Elizabeth, Countess Rivers.
308. Historical MSS. Commission, House of Lords Calendar, Appendix to VI.
Report, p. 109b.
309. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage. The Dictionary of National Biography states
that he was born in 1628, and was the son of John Savage, a colonel in the royal
army.
310. Historical MSS. Commission, Frere MSS., Appendix to 7th Report, p.
531a.
311. Elizabeth Scroope, married to the Earl in 1647.
312. “Lord Rivers denies entrance to survey and payment,” and “Earle Rivers
refuseth to pay.”
 313. Historical MSS. Commission, Frere MSS., Appendix to 7th Report, p.
531a.
314. At first a Roman Catholic, the Earl subsequently joined the English
Communion.
315. Mary, the second wife of the second Earl, at this time Countess Dowager
Rivers, by her will, proved 25th January, 1657–8 (in which she is described as “of
St. Giles”) left £400 to Sir Francis Petre (Somerset House Wills, Wootton, 5).
316. Covent Garden.
317. Was this the third Earl’s sister of that name, youngest daughter but one of
the second Earl by his first wife?
318. Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1673–5, p. 37.
319. Ibid., p. 174.
320. Dictionary of National Biography.
321. Arabella, died s.p. 21st March, 1717. (G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.)
322. He married, in 1679, Penelope, daughter of John Downes; and in 1688
Mrs. Margaret Tryon. (Ibid.)
323. Somerset House Wills, Barnes, 209.
324. Daughter of Sir Peter Colleton, and one of the Earl’s numerous
mistresses.
325. Sewer ratebook for 1720: “Lord North and Grey.”
326. On 29th September, 1722, the Duchess of Rutland wrote to Lady Gower:
“The two lords went there [to the Tower] last night, Orrery and North and Gray,
through their own want of consideration and indiscretion, ’twas said.” (Hist. MSS.
Commission, MSS. of Duke of Sutherland, Report V., p. 191.)
327. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.
328. His country residence was St. Osyth’s Priory, Essex.
329. She died on 23rd June, 1746. (Gentleman’s Magazine, 1746, p. 328.)
330. Indenture of 12th February, 1738–9, between “Philip Carter of Tunstal,
Suffolk, clerk, and Bessy, his wife (widow of Frederick late Earl of Rochford,
deceased, and now commonly called Countess Dowager of Rochford), William
Henry, Earl of Rochford, eldest son and heir of the said Frederick by the said
Bessy, and Sir John Colleton, of Exmouth, Bt., brother and heir at law of Elizabeth
Colleton alias Johnson, deceased, and James Mallors”; purporting to be a lease
“for a year to vest the possession of and concerning all that capital messuage or
mansion house situate on the south side of Great Queen Street where the said
Frederick did lately dwell, which said messuage or mansion house was heretofore
the house of Richard, Earl Rivers, and then called or known by the name of Rivers
House.” (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1739, I., 450–1.)
 331. Lincoln’s Inn Fields, p. 174.
332. FitzGerald, Life of Mrs. Catherine Clive, p. 84.
333. Boswell, Life of Johnson, Vol. IV., pp. 7, 243.
334. See p. 60.
335. “March 31, 1638–9.... Direct your letter to be left with Lord Conway’s
maid in Queen Street, so it will come more speedily to me, since I am very often
with the Lord Admiral [Earl of Northumberland], whose house is next to Lord
Conway’s, as I think you know” (Calendar State Papers, Domestic, 1638–9, p.
630).
336. See p. 86.
337. Clarendon’s History of the Great Rebellion, Book III., par. 228.
338. Letters from Thos. Smith to Sir John Pennington (Calendar of State
Papers, Domestic, for 1638–9, pp. 92, 103, 113, 130).
339. Order of the Committee of the Council of War (Ibid., p. 166.)
340. March 5th, 1638–9. Instructions from the Lord Admiral to Capt. John
Mennes of the Victory (Ibid., p. 537).
341. Letter, headed “Queen Street,” from Northumberland to the deputy
lieutenants of Nottinghamshire (Hist. MSS. Commission, Reports on MSS. in
Various Collections, VII., 295).
342. Recovery Roll (Common Pleas), 17 Chas. I., Hilary (236).
343. After her husband’s death she fell under the displeasure of Parliament,
and “endured a long imprisonment ... and had ... been put to death if she had not
made her escape to Oxford.” (Clarendon’s History of the Great Rebellion, Book
XI., par. 222.) She afterwards (in 1648) married Sir James Livingstone, who
became Earl of Newburgh.
344. Close Roll, 17 Chas. I. (3275)—Indenture between Lord Conway, etc., and
Countess Rivers.
345. John Lucas, etc., “say they carried divers pictures, with frames, others
without frames, and some rayles into Mr. Withers House [it will be remembered
that Anthony Withers had purchased the house from Newton in 1637–8] in
Queen’s Street, now in the possession of Col. Popham, the which goods above said
these examiners say are the proper goods of Mr. Withers” (Interregnum Papers,
A., 98). Withers was reported as a delinquent in October, 1645 (Domestic
Interregnum Committee for Advance of Money (Order Book), A., 4 (295)), and
was sequestrated in January, 1646 (Interregnum Papers A., 98 (13)).
346. Interregnum Papers G., 17 (704).
347. A deed relating to the house, dated 20th May, 1674, refers to it as being
“now or late in the tenure ... of the Right Hon. Francis, Lord Viscount Mountague”
(Common Pleas Recovery Roll, 26 Chas. II., Trinity, vol. 4 (366)).
348. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.
349. She was Elizabeth, daughter of Edward, first Marquess of Worcester. She
died in 1684.
350. Sewer ratebook for 1683.
351. Indenture, 9th May, 1764, between Packington Tomkins (1), the Hon.
Geo. Lane Parker (2) and Philip Carteret Webb (3) (Middlesex Registry
Memorials, 1764, II., 491); indenture 16th November, 1774, between the Rev. Jas.
Hallifax, etc., and Trustees for the Freemasons (Ibid., 1775, II., 122).
352. Historical MSS. Commission, Earl of Denbigh’s MSS. Appendix to 8th
Report, Part I., p. 556b.
353. Feet of Fines (Middlesex), 1 Anne, Hilary.
354. His country residence was Woodberry Hall, Cambridge.
355. Somerset House Wills, Bedford, 210–211.
356. Mary, his eldest daughter, married (with a dower of £30,000) George,
Viscount Parker, who in 1732 succeeded his father as (second) Earl of Macclesfield.
357. Afterwards married William Cartwright, of Aynho, Northampton.
358. See her will, dated 22nd June, 1753 (Somerset House Wills, Pinfold, 80).
359. Indenture of 9th May, 1764 (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1764, II.,
491).
360. See his will dated 7th February, 1770 (Somerset House Wills, Jenner,
417).
361. Indenture between the Rev. Jas. Hallifax, Ric. Blyke, Edw. Beavor of
Farnham and Rhoda, his wife (lately Rhoda Webb, widow of Philip Carteret Webb,
late of Busbridge, Surrey, deceased) and the Rt. Hon. Robert Edward Lord Petre,
Henry Duke of Beaufort, Henry Duke of Chandos, Washington Earl Ferrers,
Viscount Tamworth and Rowland Holt (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1775, II.,
122).
362. Foxcroft’s Life of Gilbert Burnet, p. 144.
363. Survey of London, Vol. III., p. 75.
364. Macaulay, History of England, II., p. 180.
365. Ibid., II., p. 460.
366. Foxcroft’s Life of Gilbert Burnet, I., p. lvii.
367. Foxcroft’s Life of Gilbert Burnet, I., p. lix.
368. Beaven’s Aldermen of the City of London, II., pp. 109, 186.
 369. Lipscombe’s History of Buckinghamshire, II., p. 222.
370. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.
371. See p. 56.
372. See p. 74.
373. Campbell’s Lives of the Lord Chancellors, IV., p. 560.
374. Wheatley and Cunningham (London Past and Present, III., p. 137),
mentioning his residence, which they wrongly identify with Nos. 55–56, say: “Here
on October 18, 1740, the young Joshua Reynolds came to him as a house pupil and
remained under his roof till July, 1743.” Leslie, in his Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds,
also states that this occurred at Hudson’s house in Great Queen Street. The
ratebooks, however, show quite clearly that in 1740–42, “Vanblew,” was in
occupation, and that from 1743 to 1745 the house was empty. The first year in
which Hudson is shown as the occupier is 1746. Reynolds’ residence with Hudson,
therefore, must have terminated before the latter had moved to the house in Great
Queen Street.
375. The entry “Geo. Hudson” in the issue of the ratebook for this year is
probably a mistake.
376. The Dictionary of National Biography states that Worlidge settled in
Great Queen Street in 1763, and the fact that Hudson’s name appears in the 1764
ratebook is not conclusive against this. On the other hand, a deed dated 9th May,
1764, mentions the house as being then in the occupation of Hudson (Middlesex
Registry Memorials, 1764, II., 491).
377. The parish ratebook for 1764 shows Hudson still in occupation of the
house, but he had apparently built his house at Twickenham before this. “In 1762
Reynolds dined one Saturday with his old master, Hudson, at ‘Twitenham,’ where
he had built a house in the meadows” (Leslie’s Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds, I., p.
213).
378. A deed of 16th November, 1774, refers to the house as “formerly in the
tenure of Mr. Hudson, painter, and late in that of Mr. Worlidge” (Middlesex
Registry Memorials, 1775, II., 122).
379. Dictionary of National Biography.
380. Memoirs of Mrs. Robinson, ed. by M. E. Robinson, I., pp. 74–5.
381. Memoirs of Mrs. Robinson, I., p. 94.
382. See p. 60.
383. Calendar State Papers, Domestic, 1638–9, p. 630.
384. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.
385. Letter, dated 16th May, 1631, from Thomas Case ... to Edward, Viscount
Conway, etc., “at his house in Drury Lane” (Calendar State Papers, Domestic,
1631–3, p. 45).
386. Recovery Roll, Common Pleas, 21 Chas. I., Mich., rot. x (251).
387. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.
388. Possibly Lord Wharton was the actual occupant of the house at the time.
389. Historical MSS. Commission, Duke of Portland’s MSS., Vol. III., p. 291.
390. Calendar State Papers, Domestic, Addenda, 1660–70, p. 701.
391. Ibid., pp. 712–3.
392. Calendar State Papers, Domestic, 1667, p. 535.
393. Ibid., 1667–8, p. 259.
394. Ibid., 1668–9, p. 223.
395. Roger Boyle, Baron Broghill and 1st Earl of Orrery (1621–1679) rendered
great service to the Parliamentarians in Ireland, but afterwards realising that
Richard Cromwell’s cause was hopeless, he combined with Sir Charles Coote to
secure Ireland for Charles II. He was also a dramatist of some repute.
396. Calendar State Papers, Domestic, 1668–9, p. 502.
397. Ibid., 1668–9, p. 567.
398. Ibid., 1670, p. 111.
399. A less known contemporary account is the following: “Wednesday night
last ... some mischievous persons to dishonour my Lord Chancellour crept through
a window of his house in Queen Street and stole the mace and the two purses, but
by good chance could not find the seal. There was upon the table a great silver
standish, and a thousand guineyes in a cabinet, as they report, but nothing of them
touched, the design being upon another score than bare robbery” (Letter, dated
8th February, 1676–7, from Edward Smith to Lord Rous, Historical MSS.
Commission, Rutland MSS., XII. Report, App. V., p. 37).
The entry in the Middlesex Sessions Records concerning the event is as
follows: “7 February, 29 Charles II.—True Bill that, at St. Giles-in-the-Fields, Co.
Midd., in the night between 2 a.m. and 3 a.m. of the said day, Thomas Sadler alias
Clarke, William Johnson alias Trueman and Thomas Reneger, all three late of the
said parish, laborers, broke burglariously into the dwelling house of Heneage Lord
Finch the Lord Chancellor of the said Lord the King and then and there stole and
carried off a silver mace gilt gold worth one hundred pounds and two velvet purses
imbroydered with gold and silver and sett with pearles, worth forty pounds, of the
goods and chattels of the said Lord the King. Found ‘Guilty,’ all three burglars were
sentenced to be ‘hanged.’” (Middlesex Sessions Records, IV., p. 75).
400. Dictionary of National Biography.
401. Roger North’s Autobiography, p. 165.
 402. “After we came to London, we were to wait on the Lord Jeffreys, who had
the Seal, to congratulate and offer him all the service we could do, and to receive
his commands touching the house in Queen Street where the Lord Keeper lived,
and it was so proceeded that he took the house” (Roger North’s Autobiography, p.
195).
403. H. B. Irving’s Judge Jeffreys, p. 332.
404. 7 and 8 Will. III., cap. 27 (sessional number, 53).
405. Then resident next door, see pp. 73–4. She was Ursula, widow of Edward
Conway, first Earl of Conway.
406. See e.g., Indenture of lease, dated 18th November, 1743, between Francis
Paddey and Jas. Mallors (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1743, III., 453).
407. The vestry minutes for 1712 also refer to the house under this title: “That
a proper place for the site of a new parish church, and a house for a minister,
would be at the great house in Great Queen Street, commonly called by the name
of the Land Bank” (Parton’s Hospital and Parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, p. 291).
408. He wrote several medical books, as well as a Narrative of the Birth of the
Prince of Wales. He had been summoned to attend the confinement of James II.’s
queen, but was away from London and arrived too late.
409. Subscriptions were to be paid at Mercers’ Hall and Exeter Change
(London Gazette, May 28th–June 1st, 1696), and Dr. Chamberlain’s office was, at
any rate, at first in New Buildings, Lincoln’s Inn (Ibid., June 20th–23rd, 1696).
410. “The trustees of the Land Bank, late at Exeter Change (now removed to
the Three Anchors, over against Salisbury Court in Fleet Street) do give notice, that
on the 11th day of February next they will make a dividend to such persons as are
Heads of classes to whom transfers are made” (The Post Boy, January 25th–27th,
1697–8).
411. Reproduced here.
412. See pp. 60–61, 63.
413. Survey of London, Vol. III., p. 98.
414. Confirmation of his residence in Great Queen Street about 1794 is found
by the mention of “Thos. Leverton of Great Queen Street” in a deed of 29th
September, 1795 (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1795, VI., 211).
415. Mrs. Piozzi’s Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786), p. 173.
416. Boswell’s Life of Johnson, 5th April, 1775.
417. Obituary notice in Gentleman’s Magazine, 88, part ii., 179.
418. Reproduced here.
419. Indenture of 19th July, 1798 (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1798, III.,
185), referring to the sites of Nos. 67 and 68, recites the lease so far as it concerns
those sites. The recital also refers to other ground dealt with by the lease, and this
was almost certainly the site of No. 66, which it is known was also a Mills house,
the eastern boundary of Conway House being described as “the messuage of Peter
Mills, bricklayer, now in the tenure of the Countess of Essex.” (Recovery Roll
(Common Pleas), 17 Chas. I., Hilary (236).)
420. Peter Mills died in 1670, then being resident in Little St. Bartholomew’s.
(Somerset House Wills, Penn, 147.)
421. There is a clause referring to “such messuages and buildings as then were
or afterwards should be erected thereon,” which is quite indefinite, but if there had
been any houses the names of the occupiers would almost certainly have been
given. The Finalis Concordia relating to the transaction does not mention houses,
but only half a rood of pasture.
422. Parton’s Hospital and Parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, p. 290.
423. The occupier of No. 68 seems to have persisted later than 1709 (see
below). Moreover, the assessable value of No. 67 drops from £40 in 1703 to £25 in
1715 (the next record), a fact which seems to point to the curtailment of the
property due to the erection of the chapel.
424. Baguley’s The True State of the Case.
425. On 3rd September, 1728, Thos. Burges sold to Thos. Parnell and Wm.
Page certain houses (one of which was certainly No. 68), and “all that building or
chappell, together with all and singular the pews, seats, gallereyes and other rights
and privileges thereunto belonging.” (Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1728, I.,
251).
426. A Sermon preached at Queen Street Chapel and St. Paul’s, Covent
Garden, on ... the day appointed for a general fast.
427. He was certainly in possession on 19th June, 1758, for on that date he
mortgaged the whole of the property to William Ferrand (Middlesex Registry
Memorials, 1758, III., 4).
428. Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1798, III., 185.
429. Blemundsbury, p. 397.
430. Middlesex Registry Memorials, 1815, III., 227.
431. “The new Methodist Chapel erected on the south side of Great Queen
Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, was opened yesterday morning. It is a spacious,
handsome building, and will accommodate a larger congregation than most of our
churches. It has a range of two galleries on each side. The altar is an appropriate
and beautiful piece of architecture.” (Morning Herald, 26th September, 1817).
432. Heckethorn’s Lincoln’s Inn Fields, p. 183.
433. See p. 61.
 434. G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.
435. A much mutilated Hearth Tax Roll, dating apparently from some time
between 1666 and 1672, shows “Geo. Porter, Esq.,” residing on the south side of
Great Queen Street, but it cannot be proved that the entry refers to the same house.
436. Dictionary of National Biography.
437. Survey of London, Vol. IV., p. 81.
438. Burke’s Extinct Peerage. Knighted, 7th August, 1624 (Shaw’s Knights of
England, II., p. 186).
439. Peerage of England, 1710 (2nd edn.), p. 232.
440. See Survey of London, III., p. 53.
441. Probably the “Ashburnham Froude” who is shown in joint occupation
with Burges of No. 68 in 1723 (see p. 92).
442. Francis Const (1751–1839), legal writer. “Wrote some epilogues and
prologues, and numbered among his convivial companions Henderson, John
Kemble, Stephen Storace, Twiss, Porson, Dr. Burney and Sheridan.” (Dic. Nat.
Biog.).
443. “Yesterday was married by the Rev. Mr. Francklin at his chapel near
Russel Street, Bloomsbury, David Garrick, Esq., to Eva Maria Violetti.” (General
Advertiser, 23rd June, 1749). Fitzgerald (Life of David Garrick, p. 126) wrongly
says: “at the church in Russell Street, Bloomsbury.” The statement of Mrs. Parsons
(Garrick and his Circle, p. 143) that it was “at Dr. Francklin’s Chapel in Queen
Street (the modern Museum Street)” is based on unknown, but possibly quite
good, evidence.
444. Dictionary of National Biography.
445. The Dictionary of National Biography states that her death also took
place in Great Queen Street. It is difficult to reconcile this with the fact that the
parish ratebook for 1795 shows that Francis Const took up his residence in the
house in the course of that year. She was, however, certainly resident there on 4
June, 1795, the date of her will.
446. Burke’s Commoners of Great Britain and Ireland, III., p. 402.
447. Historical MSS. Commission, MSS. of Duke of Rutland, IV., p. 545.
448. “The style of Lord Ros of Roos continued to be still used (wrongfully) by
the Earls of Rutland, as, indeed, it was until a much later period, and the well-
known divorce of John Manners ... was granted to him ... under the designation of
Lord Roos, to which he was not entitled.” (G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage.)
449. On the death of the sixth Earl of Rutland, the Barony of Ros of Hamlake
expired, and the old Barony of Ros devolved upon his daughter, Katherine, who
married George Villiers, first Duke of Buckingham. She died in or before 1663, and
was succeeded in the title (of Ros) by her son George Villiers, second Duke of
Buckingham (Burke’s Peerage and G. E. C[ockayne’s] Peerage).
450. After his death she married Sir William Langhorn, Bt.
451. Historical MSS. Commission, MSS. of Duke of Rutland, Vol. IV.
452. Ibid., II., p. 19.
453. The latter is probably for the whole of this period in respect of the Chapel.
In 1733 a separate entry is made for Burges and the Chapel.
454. Reproduced here.
455. See p. 42.
456. The licence was granted in 1630 (see p. 43).
457. This ran parallel to Great Queen Street, 197 feet distant therefrom.
458. The above particulars are taken from Recovery Roll, 9 Chas. I. (Easter)
(201). Rot. 23.
459. Indenture dated 9th August, 1633, between Geo. Gage and the Lady Alice
Dudley (Close Roll, 10 Chas. I. (2652)).
460. Then (under the indenture of 9th August, 1633, mentioned above)
charged with a rent of £150 a year, during the life of Lady Dudley (Chancery
Proceedings, Series II., 409–73).
461. See Chancery Proceedings, Bridges, 562–24. Suit of Sir Edw. Stradling.
462. Such was the statement made by Weld in answer to the claim advanced
by Sir Edward Stradling, junr., grandson of the other Sir Edward, who, however,
suggested that the transaction was a mortgage containing a proviso for redemption
for £416. (Chancery Proceedings, Bridges, 562–24).
463. Parton (Hospital and Parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, p. 138) mentions a
tablet at one end of Wild Street, with an inscription suggesting that the east side of
the street was finished in 1653. This fits in quite well with the above-mentioned
facts.
464. It is mentioned as “the way ... leading on the back side of Drury Lane
from Princes Streete to Queene Streete” in Indenture of 13th August, 1629,
between Richard Holford and Sir Edw. Stradling (Close Roll, 5 Chas. I. (2800)).
465. The date of the lease to Ittery (see p. 93).
466. Weld’s own name, though usually spelt with an “e” is also found in the
forms: Wild, Wield, Weild.
467. Indenture between Richard Holford and Edward Stratton (Close Roll,
1658 (3984)).
468. Weld having been ordered to build a wall to prevent back avenues to his
chapel, at his house, was in 1679 accused of having evaded the order by leaving a
door in the wall, “whereby there will be as free access to the chapel as before.”
(Historical MSS. Commission, House of Lords MSS. App. to 11th Report, Part II.,
p. 127).
469. Blemundsbury, p. 384.
470. The lease was not held directly by the ambassadors; see particulars of a
mortgage of Weld House, 20 June, 1665, wherein was reserved a lease made on 10
May, 1678, by Weld of the ambassador’s house to Augustine Coronell for 10 years
at a rent of £300. (Chancery Proceedings, Bridges, 438–48).
471.

Lands. Goods.
Lady Francis Weld and Mr. Humphrey Weld 2 10 0 2 0 0
Sir John Wray. 1 0 0 1 0 0

472. “John Corrance ... sheweth that ... Humphry Weld, of Weld Street, esq., ...
built these several messuages, viz. ... and two other messuages scituate in Weld
Street, with two coach houses, stables and hay lofts over, being at the further end
of a garden in his, Humphry’s, possession, and by indenture of 17th May, 1665,
demised them to John, Lord St. John, of Basing, Earle of Wilts and Marquis of
Winchester, for twenty yeares, at a rent of £160; and also one other house in Weld
Street, which messuage with the use of a house of office at the end of a garden of
Weld’s called the Back garden, and the use of a pumpe in a stable yard thereto
adjoyning in common with his other tenants by indenture of July 31st, 1671, Weld
demised to Thomas Hawker, of St. Giles, gentleman, for 11¼ years at a rent of
£30.” (Chancery Proceedings, Bridges, 465–184).
473. See previous note.
474. Worsley’s residence was the last house but one in Great Queen Street,
and the premises held by him in Wild Street obviously backed on to his residence.
475. Hospital and Parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, p. 248.
476. It is impossible to make the entries in the Hearth Tax Rolls agree with all
the particulars of occupations given by Parton, and copies of the deeds from which
he quotes have not come to light in the course of the investigations for this volume.
477. “Finding them, however, to be too numerous, they ventured to apprehend
only some few that stood outmost, and hurrying them away as fast as they could,
by the time they were well within my gates, the rest made after them, attempted to
break open my doors, fell upon the watchmen, broke their halberts, flung brickbats
and stones up against my house, cried out: ‘This is the grand justice that hangs and
quarters us all, and caused Jones and Wright to be executed the last sessions,’
divided themselves into two parties, sent one to beset the back lane behind my
garden, having information given them that I sent prisoners out that way to avoid a