The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

Coral follows the woman down the long arcing ramp from the second floor, barely recognizing the vast entry hallway she came through just an hour ago. It is bustling with activity, both humans and centaurs carrying goods and foods through and down towards the east wing of the castle; they weave their ways, Coral only getting a few curious glances. She is led through a door to a much smaller, darker ramp; as she descends, she can feel the temperature grow cooler. The way is lit with tall bowl torches; they pass several doors, finally coming to the end of the hall and a large set of old, well polished wooden doors. Gladys hesitates, “This is the surgery; I am needed to help in the kitchen before the feast, but if you would like I can wait out here for you to show you the way back.”

She smiles, “It is all right, Gladys, I should be able to find my way. Thank you.”

The old woman bows, “Of course, my lady. I am to be your handmaid; after I am finished in the kitchen, I will make sure that everything is in order in your room before I leave for the night. I will return first thing in the morning.”

Coral nods with a smile, watching the woman leave. She turns towards the door, studying the intricate carvings in the wood; she does not know what they mean, if they even have a meaning but something about them gives her a deep, restless worry as if the person who put them there believed in a magic that has long since been lost. She understands Gladys’s hesitation to enter but she puts her weight against the door and pushes it open.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

The inside is well lit, showing the extent of the clutter of various cases, books, vials and papers scattered everywhere. Though the front half of the room has a high flat ceiling, the back half extends taller up, being the exposed side of the mountain that the castle is nestled into. She can hear the trickle of running water, guessing that there is a natural spring running through the rocks somewhere. She glances down the length of the room; to her left, a wide alcove contains a large stone slab, raised to a comfortable height for someone who is standing. Several pulleys and chains dangle from the ceiling above, undoubtedly to hoist injured centaurs up for repair. Several large, mounds of pillows are separated by small tables near by the slab. The length of the room is littered with hutches full of bottles and vials, stacks of books, tables of what appears to be brewing equipment, dried shrubbery hanging from the ceiling. At the far end, she can see natural light, no doubt a window facing out towards the town; there is a large fireplace near it with a small gathering area. When her eyes focus, she can see the outline of a centaur before the fire place.

Coral clears her throat, “Greetings, Sir, I am looking for Doctor Pelium?”

The centaur turns towards her voice, walking over, “Yes, I am Doctor Pelium?”

She walks in, shutting the door behind her, “I am Coral Blackthorn, good Doctor. I heard that you wished to meet me?”

“Aye, yes, Lady Blackthorn,” he says, somewhat cheerfully. He is shorter than most other centaurs she’s seen so far, standing only a few inches taller than her. He is older, roughly the age of Piers if she had to guess; with his balding head only holding a few white hairs and round, plump belly, he wears a grey vest over his shirt, coupled with a grey jacket. His once brown hide has begun to turn grey with age and he moves slowly as if his muscles have stiffened up on him. When he reaches Coral he looks her over before bending in a small bow, “it is a pleasure to meet you, madam. I must say, you are not quite what I was expecting…”

She dips into a small curtsy, following him back towards the fire place; he offers her some tea, which she accepts. Once he has handed her a cup, he looks around and finds an arm chair in the corner, covered in books. Despite her objections, he clears it off and brings it to the fireplace for her to sit in, he standing opposing her.

“Forgive me my lady, but I will have to admit when the Prince told me of you I imagined a fearsome woman,” he says, sipping his tea, “and if I heard the story of the ox from any other than Prince Quell himself I would have called him a liar and thrown him out promptly.”

Coral blushes a little, “I was only doing what I thought right but apparently I caused quite an uproar. It is… not proper for a lady to know such things.”

He laughs, “I am sure there were several shocked men but your knowledge is impressive and will be most beneficial to this realm. It has been several hundred years since there was a verified human healer here and to be so fortunate enough for you to be a woman is a true blessing.” He smiles at her.

“Thank you, Doctor. I had heard from my handmaid that a woman healer would cause the local female townsfolk to seek help more readily; do they not come see you? Or do you strictly attend to the centaur population?”

“I will help any who need it, as I am sure you would as well, though being a centaur does make helping the human population more difficult. And if we are being frank, both female humans and female centaurs are reluctant to seek the assistance of a man, even in a professional setting,” he pauses, sipping his tea, “I am sure that there will be several topics we will discuss that should never be spoken about in polite company, let alone mixed company but I hope that it will not bother you so, as I only mention such things for the benefit of our profession.”

With a smile, Coral nods, “Aye, I understand Doctor. I am more than happy to learn from your vast expertise and you can be certain that I will have many questions.”

“Good,” he says, “now that we have gotten the formalities out of the way… I am most thankful that you are a woman. It bothers me so that when a woman gives birth, men are not allow to be present-not that any would want to be, mind you, but I worry that there isn’t a medical professional on hand in case something goes wrong. Have you been to a birthing before?”

She blinks several times, surprised that he jumped so readily into the subject, “Yes, I have been to a few.”

“I understand you were mostly an animal healer-were the births all animal? Any horses? Humans?”

“Several horses, uncountable numbers of animals and two human births,” she thinks on it.

“That is very fortunate indeed. I have never been present for a human nor a centaur birth. We are reluctant to admit it but centaurs are more like humans in some ways, more like horses in others; that is why you are such a lucky discovery-to have knowledge of both humans and animals, it should make it easier to understand the complexities of a human-centaur pairing. Do you read, my lady?”

“Yes, though there weren’t many books in my village I read them all. I was taught at a young age to read and write,” she smiles, thankful to Piers as she is one of only a few women from her village that can do so.

“Most excellent,” he walks over to a stack of books, looking through them; finding a particular one, he pulls it out and hands it to her. “It has been a long time since I read this book but I will forewarn you that the author, Adger Gladstone, was very accurate in his descriptions and drawings. It is a most intriguing, informative book, written by the last human doctor that was in residence in this town. From what I gathered, like yourself, he was not from around here so everything was new to him. Towards the end of his career he decided to detail everything that he would have wanted to know when he started, so that those who followed wouldn’t be slowed down by rediscovering them. It should answer any of your questions that you have in regards to the human-centaur pairing.”