The Healer Pt. 05

Nodding, Rainer says, "That is a wise thing. It is best that you befriend the head midwife, she has a vast knowledge on the process. I would like you to be present for all birthings, including centaur women—it will take some getting used to for them, as when a centaur gives birth she is only attended to by other centaurs."

Coral nods, avoiding Quell's eyes, "Of course, Rainer." She knows little of Centurion, other than they seem to be substantially more primitive than Centuarna. She wonders if the awful stories about centaurs that she was told as a child are in fact true but instead of applying to all of the creatures, it applies to a small group of them. Nervously, she glances at Kiera.

The Queen senses her troubles, "Centurion is quite different then Centuarna, Coral. Though I will always have a love for my homeland, the way things are done there are not the best. They have a far smaller human population and centaurs greatly outnumber them—so much so, in fact, that when a young girl is born arrangements are immediately made for her to become a centaur's mate upon becoming of age. It is a despicable practice but young maidens are more or less sold to the highest bidder by their families. On occasion, a wealthy male centaur may find himself with two or even three mates, if he has the means to procure them. Female centaurs are even more rare there; I was fortunate enough to be born into royalty and while my father saw nothing wrong with selling women off, he was smart enough to approach Rainer's parents with the proposition of an alliance by offering me up as a mate to Rainer. I am thankful each and every day that my mate loves me as I love him." She smiles warmly at Rainer, who returns it.

"It is unfortunate enough that the human towns to the west see us as savages—they are too naïve to realize that Centuarna is the only thing keeping them safe from Centurion," Rainer's words are solemn, their weight ringing true. "If we no longer stood in their path, Centurions would not hesitate to raid the villages and claim any of the women for their own. My whole reign I have tried to change the traditions of our neighbors, tried to influence them to step out of the past and join us in the present, where humans are treated as equals, women are respected and cherished. It has been a long road, but I know that King Yulnar is starting to see the light—that is why these disappearances are so damaging. They directly go against his word as law and threaten to turn the country against him. But we must all do our part to ensure that that does happen."

"Of course, Rainer. Anything I can do to help, you know that I will."

...

When they return to their room, Quell says causally, "I did not realize you would be attending the birthings." Though his tone is neutral, there is a clear dislike in his face.

Coral looks to him; she intentionally didn't tell him, yet she never expected him to be so against it, "Yes, Doctor Pelium wants me to and frankly, it is a good idea. Though I don't have as much experience as a midwife, I have plenty of experience with animals giving birth; perhaps my unconventional knowledge will be of some benefit to Centuarna."

"Yes," Quell replies, taking off his shirt. He still seems troubled, holding something back when he kneels down, stretching his furry legs out as he leans into the cushions.

Coral slips off her dress before digging through her medicine case. Finding a pouch of chamomile and lavender, she puts the dried herbs into a muslin bag before steeping them into her teacup. Carrying it with her, she walks to Quell, "What is the matter my love?"

He looks upon her for a moment, hesitating. Not bothering to soften the blow, he states his dislike, "You did not tell me you were going to attend the birthings and you didn't tell me that you were reading up on the matter. I do not like it—I don't wish you to have anything to do with it."

She looks at his frown; Coral knows that she kept the truth from him but she didn't lie about it—she simply did it to spare him the pain of his own memories. But as she thinks on it further, she starts to get a little angry, "I didn't realize that I was supposed to share every moment of my day with you, Quell. You did not tell me a single thing about the problems in Centurion—how long have you known about them?"

Surprised that the tables are now turned on him, he folds his arms over his chest, "I have known quite a while but those are matters of the kingdom. They do not concern you." The moment he says it, he knows it was the wrong thing to say. He purses his lips, deciding to stick to his firm words.

She shakes her head, fully upset. Walking past him, she sips her tea while heading to the small bed in the corner of the room. Though she insisted that it wasn't necessary, as she had every intention of sleeping next to her mate each night, she is now thankful that the piece of furniture was placed there. Setting her tea on the side table, she pulls back the covers before climbing in, "Good night, Quell." With her back to him, she rests her head on the pillow.

"Coral, please," his voice is soft, pained, "It hurts me that you would keep something like that from me, that is all that I meant by it."

Her voice is quiet but she knows he can hear her clearly, "That is rich, coming from the centaur who didn't tell me about his first mate or child, or about deciding for me that I am not allowed to have any of my own."

He sighs; rising to his legs he walks to her, his hand tentatively touching her back, "I am sorry."

"Good night, Quell," she replies flatly, not moving.

She hears him hesitantly retreat, knowing that he won't be able to get her to talk further on the matter. Quell settles back down into the mound of pillows, alone.

...

Several hours pass, yet Coral doesn't fall asleep. She is no longer angry, but frustrated and hurt. For Quell to be upset with her over something as silly as attending the birth of a centaur seems so ridiculous; she knows that the thought of a foal dredges up painful memories for him, but his selfishness, his desire to control her makes her think of how some of the men in her old town would treat their wives. He has no right, no good reason to stop her from helping women bear children. His reaction is entirely nonsensical and she is hurt that he would try to justify keeping knowledge from her by claiming the privilege of his birthright.

She tries to sleep but it doesn't come to her, though she knows from his deep, even breaths that he was able to drift off. Coral sits up and finishes her tea, now cold and bitter. Each moment she spends awake and in the bed she finds it harder to pull her mind off of their argument; quietly, she rises and finds a robe, slipping out of the room.

It is a short walk to the bathhouse; she pushes open the doors, stepping inside the almost dark cavern which is illuminated by a single torch. She stands and listens, looking for any movement before discovering that she is alone. Quickly, she sheds her robe and shift, tossing them onto a bench before diving into the warm water. Floating on her back, she stares mindlessly up at the dark ceiling, letting the weightlessness of the pool rock her tired body, easing her tense muscles, her mind finally calming down. Coral forces herself to take deep breaths; a scent tickles her nose and she recognizes it almost instantly. Slowly, she rights herself in the water, her eyes scanning the edge of the pool until she sees him sitting on ledge; his feet swish in the water, his bare chest shadowed by the lack of light. He leans back on his hands, watching her.

Coral swims towards him but doesn't get closer than a few feet away, "Congratulations, brother."

"Thank you, sister," he says, his tone devoid of emotion.

"I am surprised to see you here—I would have thought you would want to keep Lynette's scent on you until breakfast tomorrow," she says it amiably though avoids looking into his eyes.

"I'm not here to take a bath," his voice is soft, "I often come here at night to think. The sound of the water calms me down. Though, I am surprised to see you here—I have never run into another soul at this hour."

She sighs, "I couldn't sleep. Quell and I...had words." She doesn't know why she tells him this, as it is none of his business—yet she feels desperate to have someone to talk to.

"Can I ask what about?" He watches her carefully as she treads water before him.

Coral swims to the ledge beside him, though she turns her back against the stone and looks out over the cavern, "He was upset that I am attending a birthing later during the week. Apparently he doesn't want me to get involved with it, despite the fact that both Rainer and Pelium seem to think it is necessary."

"Why ever in the world would he be upset about that?" His voice is surprised.

"I don't know," she huffs, "because he doesn't want to have a foal with me? Because he is afraid that once I see a newborn centaur that I'll fall in love with the idea of having my own bairn and he can't bear the thought of losing it or me like he lost his first love?" She sighs, her eyes burning with tears, "He—he didn't tell me that he didn't want children before we mated. He didn't even tell me about her," she spits the last word out, "I never even met her and I am sorry that she is gone but it is so unfair that my future is determined by a dead centaur."

Vadim places a gentle hand on her bare shoulder, "Coral," he says softly, "I am sorry that you have been put in this situation. He should have told you, but...it hurts him so much. It is an open wound that festered. Being angry at him or her will not help any of this, instead you need to do what you do best and heal him."

Her shoulders slump under his words; she reaches a hand up, resting it on top of his. Their fingers intertwine, their grip firm and comforting. They come to a silent understanding, that though they cannot express their love physically, they can still care for each other and comfort one another in a time of need. They know that no matter what, they will always be able to count on one another.

Vadim squeezes her hand before releasing his grip; he rises slowly, his voice soft before he leaves, "Good night, Coral."

...

When Quell wakes in the morning, he is relieved to find Coral, curled up and asleep, in his arms. He holds her close, burying his face into the side of her neck, breathing her scent. When she stirs, he sorrowfully looks into her eyes, "Coral, I am sorry."

She reaches up and cradles his face, "I am sorry too, Quell. I should have told you about it but I was afraid that it would bring up painful memories for you."

"It...it did," he says, "but I shouldn't have acted so rashly. It is not my place to tell you what to do, I just...I worry that once you see what it is like to have a foal, you will want one too and I cannot even think about having a child—not after what happened to Searra."

Coral rests her forehead against Quell's, "I understand, but you need to think about this differently—instead of thinking strictly of me, think of the mothers. What if one of them got injured? What if a foal got injured? Someone needs to be there who can assess the situation and take action if needed." She hesitates, wanting to make her point but not wanting to hurt him in the process, "What if I could have helped Searra?"

As the thought is driven home, Quell closes his sad eyes. He doesn't speak for a moment, his woe throbbing in his body. He pulls her close, "All right, Coral."

...

Coral sits alone in the apothecary. Though the past few days since its opening have been busy, there is a lull in the needs of the humanfolk and she is thankful to have the time to herself. The past week has been a whirlwind of emotions and she finds solace in the quiet. The bell above the door chimes when it is opened; sighing, she turns to see who has entered and is surprised to find a familiar face.

"Margaret," she speaks softly.

"Hello, Coral," the maiden who was plucked with her replies, "I have been sent here to get you for the birthing."

Her brow crinkles in confusion, "I didn't realize that you were a part of it?"

Margaret takes a seat at the counter across from her, "Yes. I was plucked because of my knowledge and desires to be a midwife."

"Oh," she responds, still shocked; thinking upon it further, it occurs to her that Margaret is the oldest in her large family, having seven younger siblings she has been with her mother through all of the births, "I see. I guess I didn't know."

She huffs a laugh, "I assumed they brought me here to bear half breed kin but apparently they just want me to help bring those abominations into this world."

Coral does well to keep the anger from her face and words, leaving her expression surprised, "Margaret—those are very harsh words, it would serve you well to watch your tongue. You should remember that you now live amongst them."

"Not by my choice," she grumbles, "in case you have forgotten, neither one of us had a say in the matter."

She keeps her voice level, "I suppose we did not but it isn't as if there was something keeping us tied to our old lives. I was a burden to Piers and your parents had a hard enough time feeding all those mouths—we both know that no one had intentions of making you any offers."

Margaret winces at the jab, "Be that as it may, I had intentions of leaving for a neighboring town on my own. I could have found employment and made a life for myself."

"You have left for a neighboring town, found employment and are making a life for yourself," she reminds the woman, "if nothing else, see this coming year in Centuarna as a way to hone your craft—you will have plenty of opportunities to assist with birthings and I am sure that there will be human bairn as well, not just foals. When your time is finished here you will have knowledge that you could never have hoped to gain otherwise."

Sighing, she ruefully admits the truth to the healers words, "You have a way about you, Coral, that always eases those in your company."

Gathering her medicine case, she follows Margaret out of the shop, locking the door behind her, "Are you staying in town?"

"Yes," she replies, "I have been given a room in Janis' home—she is the head midwife. Though it is a tight squeeze with her, her...mate...and their foals, I am thankful to have a roof over my head."

Coral can sense her apprehension about living so closely to the centaurs. She knows that it will take time for Margaret to come around, "Is it amiable?"

Tensing, she leads Coral through the buildings off the main road and towards the smaller paths of the houses surrounding the market. She keeps her voice quiet, so that they will not be overheard, "I can manage well enough, though it is clear that Janis does not like me. Her mate is courteous when he speaks and their foals do their best to leave me be."

Before they can continue their conversation further, they approach the house of the pregnant woman. The wooden, single story building has a wide door and tall roof like all the others, to accommodate a centaur's stature. The woman's mate paces outside, having already been kicked out of his home; he looks to Coral, relief washes over his face, "Lady Coral, Mate to Quell Second Prince of Centuarna, I am Erwon. Having you here eases my heart." He bows slightly to her.

Coral nods, offering a small smile to the man before entering the house. She sets her case down, Margaret grabbing her wrist, looking for the first time at the metal cuffs around them, "You...you took one of them as a mate?" Her voice is a quiet, shocked whisper.

She ignores the growing disgust on Margaret's face; instead she reaches out and squeezes the woman's shoulders, "There will be plenty of time to talk later; right now, we have a job to do."

When she is introduced to Janis, Coral immediately understands why the midwife and Margaret do not get along. Janis is a hard woman—though knowledgeable in her craft, it is clear that she has also seen the tragedy of loss. She doesn't curtsey to Coral, simply gives her a gruff nod before helping the pregnant woman down onto an old pillow. There are two other midwives present, Clara and Aileen. Clara, though younger than Janis and Aileen, is still several years older than Coral; she hands the woman a large steaming mug of something before making her way to Coral and Margaret. She curtseys, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Coral."

Coral smiles in return, referring to the mug, "What is it that she drinks?"

"A tea steeped of raspberry leaves and wolfberries. It is used to induce labor once a woman reaches her eighth month."

"Does it always work?"

"No," she says in a hushed tone so that the pregnant woman will not hear, "for one in ten, it will not. Then we must break her water manually and it is not a pleasant experience for anyone."

Coral does her best to be helpful; Janis has no qualms about barking orders to both of the young women. Margaret, despite her disdain for the centaurs, does her duty to the fullest, providing as much comfort as she is able to. By the time the pregnant woman finishes her third mug of tea, her contractions hit her hard and her water breaks on its own.

It is a long seven hours before the cries of the newborn fill the small house; Coral watches with both awe and dismay as Janis hands the foal to its mother. Its tiny torso gives way to a light brown miniature horse body, the creature awkwardly kicking all four of its legs in protest. Using it as an excuse, she wipes her hands clean and walks out into the growing dusk to Erwon. She puts a smile on her face, "You have a beautiful young boy—would you like to see him?"

He nods nervously, "My mate...?"

"She is tired, but fine."

He breathes a sigh of relief, quickly entering the house.

Coral sucks in the cool, night air, stretching her stiff limbs. She struggles to come to terms with seeing the foal born from a woman; though she respects the centaurs, the sight of the tiny half breed jarred her sensibility. Taking a seat on the step, she stretches her legs out.

Margret soon comes out as well, sitting beside her in silence. It is a while before she speaks, "That was..."

Nodding, "Yes," Coral understands entirely.

"Well, I am glad that both the mother and the—the foal—are healthy. There is something good about that, if nothing else." Her voice is quiet, pensive.

"Margaret," she asks, glancing over at her, "there are quarters above the apothecary. Since I live in the castle with my mate, they remain empty. You are welcome to live there, if you wish."

She looks over, surprised, "I would like that very much, Coral. Thank you. Janis is going to remain here for the night; Aileen and Clara are cleaning up. Since the house is so small, especially now that Erwon is inside, Janis said we are free to leave."

"Good," she smiles. Slipping back into the house, she bids the women fair well before grabbing her medicine case. When she shuts the door behind her, she is surprised to see Margaret standing tensely just outside; a few steps out into the night, two large centaurs wait patiently. She smiles when she recognizes them, "Evening, Junta, Tomir—is everything all right?"

Tomir shifts uneasily, his eyes locked on Margaret. Junta answers for them, "All is well, Lady Coral. Prince Quell is simply worried for the safety of you and the midwives and doesn't want anyone to be alone at night; he wanted us to make sure that everyone had an escort home."

She nods; though Margaret sees it as a the centaurs keeping track of them, Coral knows it is due to the issues in Centurion, "Janis is going to remain here over night and the other two are not quite finished. If one of you would care to wait for them, the other can walk with Margaret and I."