Disclaimer: While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate as far as is consistent with the fantasy world of Narnia, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Rawlstow are not to be regarded as authoritative.
Narnia and recognizable characters thereof are the property of the estate of C. S. Lewis; all original characters and story © 2023 FemaleChauvinist.
Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety.
A/N: My Fox healer Rawlstow is introduced in my stories "Vulpes Medico: Winter's End" and "Vulpes Medico: Clever Fox," so you might wonder about some things if you haven't read those first. Barbie
Chapter One: In the Halls of Healing
The sound of Moonshadow's hooves echoed softly through the marble halls, the floor softly hollowed from centuries of centaurs' footsteps. In the years of the White Witch's reign, the healing arts had faded almost out of existence in Narnia, but now, over a decade into Aslan's Spring, Creatures once more came from all over Narnia and even Archenland to seek the centaurs' aid.
Though not, Moonshadow had noted at times, from the Northern Forests. It was impossible that no Creature there became ill or injured, and he knew of no centaur who had made his dwelling there. Perhaps, he reflected, so far away from civilization they had not even heard that there was once more aid to be found in the Halls of Healing, or they deemed it too far a journey to make.
As always, upon reaching the door of one of his patients he put the matter out of his mind as a mere curiosity.
A young otter lay curled on the bed within, her tail tucked between her paws as she shivered with fever. All her glossy brown fur had fallen out, leaving her pitifully naked. But even the lightest blanket seemed to worsen the mysterious rash on her already inflamed skin, so all they could do was keep the room warm for her.
Moonshadow bent over her for a moment, feeling her pulse and temperature and noting that the condition of the rash appeared unchanged. He exchanged a few words with the dryad nurse, instructing her to continue his prescribed treatment, and then left the room without even a glance at the mother otter knitting in the chair beside the bed.
Centaurs were known for their skill at healing, not for their bedside manner, and yet Mrs Otter saw nothing wrong or unusual in that. Indeed, if one of the stern, noble centaurs had unbent so far as to offer her a word of encouragement or sympathy, she would have been too flustered to know how to respond.
His treatment wasn't working, Moonshadow mused as he continued down the hall, not concerned for the young otter in his care as much as he was irked by his own failure. Perhaps it was time he consulted the Great Book of Healing.
The heavy, leatherbound tome contained careful notes of the remedies and procedures the centaurs had developed over the years, and was one of five magically linked copies. One was kept by the chief healer, Moonshadow's brother Starsong, anything he wrote in it appearing in the others as well. One was in the possession of the centaur healers at Cair Paravel, and two had been lost, a circumstance the centaurs didn't care to discuss. The fifth lay in a place of honour, nearly a shrine, for consultation by any healer of the Hall who had need of its wisdom.
Moonshadow approached it reverently, whispering the rote words of respect as he undid the metal clasps and let it fall open.
As always, it fell precisely to the pages he needed, and he bent to study the closely written pages intently. There were the remedies he had already tried with no success — but under the lines of precise centaur handwriting was a darker script, more angles than curves, and in his opinion barely legible.
It was Beast writing, he realized indignantly; some Animal had gotten its paws on one of the lost books, and had had the effrontery to write in it.
He was so aghast at the mere idea that it took him a moment even to attempt to decipher the writing; when he had, he snorted in disgust. As if something as simple as that would work when all the remedies he had tried had failed!
That he would have accepted it without question if it had been in a centaur's handwriting did not then occur to him.
This, then, was why they had no patients from the Forests of the North, he realized grimly, shutting the book with less reverence than he usually accorded it. Some Creature had found the missing book and believed it gave him the right to set himself up as healer.
Who knew how long this fraudulence had been going on; it was past time one of the centaur healers confronted the charlatan, and without finding it necessary to consult any of the others, Moonshadow saw no reason it shouldn't be him.
He ordered food from the kitchens sent to his chamber, and sent for the young centaur Rainmirror. He was packing a traveling bag when Rainmirror arrived, stamping his hoof lightly on the floor to announce his presence. "My lord?"
Moonshadow glanced up and briefly nodded acknowledgement. "Rainmirror."
"Are you making a journey?" Rainmirror questioned.
"Aye; I must travel north to deal with one who thinks himself the equal of the centaurs."
Rainmirror frowned, Moonshadow taking it to be an echo of his own indignation.
"I require you to see to my patients until I return," Moonshadow continued, it not occurring to him that the situation was hardly urgent enough to justify abandoning a gravely ill patient, even to the capable hands of another healer.
"Very well," Rainmirror agreed. "Safe journey."
Nodding briefly once more, Moonshadow slung the traveling bag over his shoulder and departed the Halls of Healing.
Next chapter coming next week!
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