Note: This is a gay themed fantasy novel about kings and magic, love and war. Although I will often allude to sexual encounters, there are no scenes of sexual acts for this is, by and large, a love story. This author claims exclusive copyright to the characters, settings, and plot
Dark Wishes
Part Two: Karandal
Chapter Thirteen
Karandal woke just after the first rays of the early sun shone through the windows. Trelaine was still asleep, their bodies intertwined. Karandal opened his eyes and could see Olan moving quietly about the room. He eased himself carefully from his lover's embrace and slipped on a warm gown.
"How are you this morning, Olan?" he asked, crossing to stand near the heat of the fireplace.
"Fine and fit as can be, M'Lord. I see the young King slept well."
"Thank all good fortune for that. I was afraid he might not after yesterday."
"I spent time in the archives last night, M'Lord, and chanced across some of Menfred's writings from around the time His Majesty was summoned." Olan busied himself preparing Karandal a cup of hot mulled tea as he spoke. "It seems that the old man expected His Grace to feel a great surge of memory yesterday, it being a time he would be closest to the old Qell Kings."
"And why would that be?" Karandal asked.
"Because yesterday marked one year since Menfred summoned him," Llewelyn said as he entered the chamber. "I remember that day well. Thank you, Olan," the King said as the guard handed him a hot cup. "I was desperate. Menfred believed that the spirits of the Qell, so long dormant in death, were rising to claim the lands that were once theirs and exact revenge for their deaths. The dark side of them, he thought, and told me that to summon the purest of their spirits would aid us. There you see," he gestured toward the bed where Trelaine still slept, "the result of his summoning. He came to us from nothing, with nothing, as the tower bells marked the end of one day and beginning of the next. He stood before us trembling in the cold and his nakedness. I wrapped my own cloak around him and stared into his eyes for the first time. Egraine was there and knows the effect of those molten, silver orbs."
Llewelyn took a long drink of tea before he continued. "This is what you give me?' I asked Menfred. I beg for help and you bring forth this witless creature?'" He glanced at Trelaine, who was beginning to stir. "Little did I know what magic he placed in my hand that night, nor how powerful that magic could be."
Because he knew that his King loved Trelaine dearly, Karandal sat his cup aside and said, "He works magic sometimes. Last night he granted me a wish even though he said wishes are dangerous things."
"I know he lets his magic flow, Karandal. You saw it on the battlefield. We've both seen it comfort the sick and dying, and protect those around him. Wishes are different. Trelaine fears them. If what Menfred told me is correct, then last night was the closest to his summoning. His memories may have been stronger but his powers were at their weakest. If he granted you a wish, it could only cause good to you and no harm to others."
Llewelyn and Olan prepared to leave at the sound of Trelaine yawning and calling, "Karandal?"
"He loves you dearly," Llewelyn told his Duke. "Teach him; guide him. Menfred told me just before his death that he had lacked the power to summon what he wanted. We do not know if all the evil of the Qell was defeated in that last battle. Some of it may linger in your lover. Bind him with that love, but not too tightly. I have come to place much faith in you. I believe that you are the key to this Qell Lord being what the others were not." He dipped his head at Karandal, acknowledgement of the faith he placed in his ability, and left the room.
The two young lovers spent a pleasant day in each other's company. They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast as Olan and Octo stood guard outside their door, discouraging visitors. Remembering his wish that this day be a happy one, Karandal steered their conversation to the coming planting and harvest seasons.
When they had eaten their fill and dressed, they walked to the lowest level of the great fortress of Chamel and spent several hours going through the records of the Qell. Not finding anything of value to Trelaine, they retired to the cool quiet of the garden. Resting in the chill air, they fed breadcrumbs to the doves, dear to Trelaine's heart. And when they grew cold they returned to the apartment lent to them and made love to each other.
"Your wish was good, my love," Trelaine whispered as they lay in the pleasant aftermath. "I slept peacefully with no nightmares and we have been very happy this day."
Karandal replied with a lingering kiss, "I will not make wishes again, Trelaine, and thus cause you to grant them."
Their quiet conversation was interrupted when Olan knocked softly on the door. "My Lords," he said, "King Llewelyn requests you dine with him this evening."
Once again their servants helped them dress and they followed the guards to Llewelyn's private apartment. Queen Bolyn greeted them and led them to comfortable chairs.
"Please excuse me," she said. "I must leave for a moment. Prince Riedel must be put down to sleep for the night." With a curtsy to Trelaine she left them to tend to her young son, Lllewelyn's heir.
The King joined them shortly. "The men should begin to arrive tomorrow," he said, "and we will speak of them and war no more this evening. Tonight we visit as old friends and speak of things more pleasant to all of us."
The Queen rejoined them and servants brought platters heaped with food. All was quiet as they ate, and they gathered around the large fireplace for warmth when they were finished. A knock on the door and Llewelyn's guards admitted harpers who quickly set up their harps and guitars across the room. As the men drank ale and Bolyn sipped a cup of tea, the harpers began to play softly and sing the many old ballads of Endril and Elanen.
The King danced with his wife and bid his friends do also. Karandal, who was a graceful dancer, acquitted himself well with Bolyn. Trelaine claimed no knowledge of dancing but the Queen convinced him and he joined her in a simple one. As they danced, some distant memory returned to Trelaine which led to applause by all present when they were finished.
"You dance quite well," Llewelyn said with a smile. "I must watch to see that you do not steal my lady wife from me."
Trelaine laughed at the remark and returned, "Better I should watch that your lady does not steal my lover."
The evening passed in good camaraderie. When the hour grew late and the Queen suggested they should put the day behind them, Llewelyn rose and cleared his throat. "My Lady, my friends," he said to include the guards and servants who were in the room, "I lift my glass in love and friendship to give you Trelaine, King of Elanen and High King -- since he is the only living Qell. He has been our dear friend for one year, the length of his life. For his loyalty, his passion, and his compassion, I am most profoundly grateful."
Turning to face Trelaine he added, "Dear friend, for I bear you the deepest love, I will tell you that when Menfred brought you to us one year past I was filled with great misgivings. But you have proven to be more than I asked of him. I requested a savior and have a good friend. And through your foresight, I have another man to count as a loyal friend also." Llewelyn indicated Karandal and lifted his glass again.
Bolyn stood and took a glass of wine herself. "To Trelaine!" she shouted and those around them returned, "Hear! Hear!"
Chapter Fourteen
The next day dawned warmer yet with a whisper of spring in the air. The men who had been summoned were beginning to arrive and a city of tents began to appear around Chamel. Llewelyn's quartermaster sorted them out with areas assigned to each and sent stable boys to tend the horses.
Llewelyn assembled his lords again: Kerdin, Montar, Karandal, along with the now proclaimed High King. "I trust that each of you knows his duty, but we will go over the plans once again," Llewelyn said to them. "Kerdin, your men have their equipment to dismantle the bridges?"
Kerdin was about to answer when the door to the great council chamber burst open and a man dashed across the room to kneel in front of Llewelyn. His boots and clothing were spattered with mud. Gasping for breath he said, "Your Majesty, a terrible thing has happened." He stopped for another breath.
"Here, man," Llewelyn said, drawing him to his feet. "Sit here. Someone fetch ale!" he shouted.
Karandal, who was the closest, brought a mug of ale and handed it to the stranger. Somewhere, from behind the sorrow Karandal saw in those eyes, was a flicker of gratitude.
Llewelyn allowed him time to finish half of the ale before saying, "Slowly now. Your name?"
"Ichor, Sire, from Glencoe Village." His breathing had slowed but there was an insurmountable weariness about him.
"Glencoe is four days ride from here," Llewelyn said
"Yes, Majesty. I made it in two. I ran my horse near to death to reach you with all speed." It was obvious to all present that Ichor had no pleasant news to impart.
"Tell us then," Llewelyn said, "what happened?"
Ichor took another deep breath and his words came out between sobs. "There has been a massacre, Majesty. Glencoe Village is gone! All are dead and the village put to the torch!" Ichor could go no further for the immensity of it overwhelmed him.
The others present began to murmur among themselves: "What? Glencoe?" "Who has done this?" "On with it, man; tell us all."
Llewelyn raised his hand and silenced his men. A timid voice, one of the serving girls, whispered, "I have family in Glencoe Village."
Ichor shook his head. "Had, lass. All are dead."
"How happens that you are here?" Trelaine asked gently.
"We fought as best we could, M'Lord, but we are ... were ... only shepherds. I was wounded and left for dead."
Only then did any of them notice the blood on the man's tunic and the left arm that hung uselessly at his side.
"Who did this?" Llewelyn asked.
"I know not, Majesty. They were strangers to us.
They approached us in a storm and begged shelter. Then they rose against us in the night."
"Palen," Llewelyn called to a page, "take this man to the healers and then see that he is bathed and fed. Give him a room in which to rest." To Ichor he added, "Rest, friend. You have done well to reach us with this news. We will decide a course of action."
Panen led the weary man toward the door. Trelaine reached out with his mind and gave strength to Ichor's wounded body and soul. As the lords gathered around their King and demanded action against whichever enemy had done this, Trelaine withdrew across the room by himself. Within moments the others noticed an eerie glow and turned toward Trelaine. The Qell was encased in a silver shimmer that grew in intensity until it filled the room. Even Llewelyn was filled with an unknown fear at the anger that emanated from Trelaine. A cold wind swept through the room scattering maps in its wake and chilling the bones of the men present. The servants knelt, clasped their talismans, and wept. The windows suddenly burst open and the wind rushed out.
No one moved or spoke. Before a man could count to ten the wind rushed back in and swirled around Trelaine. In a voice that none had heard before he screamed, "NO! You cannot win! I will fight you and prevail! You cannot hide from me!" The silver around Trelaine turned to white as his anger grew. "Murder of innocents, you will answer to me!"
Everything suddenly returned to normal and Karandal stood in shock as he looked at the man who was so gentle a lover and now so terrible in rage.
Trelaine opened his eyes and looked around. The white of his eyes were gone, replaced by so deep a red that it must have been the very fires of hell. Continuing to speak in a strange and terrifying voice he said, "Continue, good King, with your council. There is a thing I must do and none can come with me."
hapter Fifteen
The afternoon wore on as the King and his lords returned to their discussion of the nomads. Assured that each knew their plan well for the deployment of their forces, Llewelyn dismissed all save Karandal.
With the departure of the others, Llewelyn drew Karandal to the fireplace and offered him ale. "Drink, my friend, for what happened here today is sure to have caused you great concern."
"I did not know him," Karandal replied shakily. "He would not even look at me before he left."
"I think he wished to spare your soul. That which stood before us today was not the Trelaine we have come to know and love. What we saw today was the full might of a Qell Lord. We shall, all of us, wait for our friend to return. Fear not, Karandal. He loves you and would do nothing to cause harm to you or those you love."
Dismissed, Karandal returned to their apartment to wait. Night fell and he had servants light candles until the room was filled with their glow. He turned away the evening meal for his stomach revolted at the thought of food. Alone, he paced the room touching at such things of Trelain's that lay about: a glove, a cloak, a favored cup. His body worn from strain, Karandal allowed the servants to undress him and lay on the bed where, only the night before, Trelaine had offered him gentle love.
He was still awake when he heard a noise. Glancing across the room he saw the weary form of his lover standing by the fireplace. Karandal rose and slipped on a gown before carefully approaching Trelaine.
"Are you well?" he asked.
"No," was the tired reply. "My heart is full of pain. Sit, and I will tell what I have just told King Llewelyn."
Olan and Octo had entered the room and Olan quickly fetched his King a cup of hot tea. Octo sent the curious house servants on their way.
"Thank you, Olan," Trelaine replied as he accepted the cup and sat down. "I knew Glencoe Village long ago and counted the ancestors of her innocent dead among my friends. The old master of Glencoe had two sons, one of whom he favored above the other, Dresel his name was. Dresl was a quiet boy, obedient and loyal. His older brother, Timmanen, grew jealous of their father's love. Timmanen was a bully, evil at heart and worthless. One night, in a fit of anger, he killed Dresl. Their father banished Timmanen forever and he sought refuge among the wild tribes in the mountains above Glencoe. There has been bad blood between the villagers and the tribes since. Three nights ago, at the urging of one of Timmanen's many times grandsons, several of the tribesmen committed the atrocity in Glencoe."
Trelaine shuddered. "I have dealt with those responsible. They will cause Llewelyn no more trouble in that part of the kingdom. It was unrelated to the troubles along the eastern border of Endril."
A great weariness overwhelmed him as he stood. Olan rushed to take the cup before it could slide from his hand. Karandal summoned the personal servants to set up a bath, and quickly for Trelaine could go no more.
Bathed, Trelaine was led to bed. Olan checked the candles and replaced those which were burning down. Octo, now fearful for his own lord's life, told all that he would stand guard himself outside the door this night. Olan agreed to join him, thus strengthening the guard.
Karandal sat on the side of the bed gazing down at his lover. "Is there more I can do for you?" he asked.
A desperate voice answered, "There is naught any can do for me. I fear I will become lost in what I once was. I did not know to what heights I could grow or what power I could yield."
Karandal leaned over and touched his fingers to his love's face, a face now worn with pain and fear. "Let me give you strength and anchor you to me."
"Would you lie in my arms after what you saw today? Knowing now what I can become?"
"You will never harm me, Trelaine. I do not understand what happened today in the council chamber, save that you are Qell. But I do not doubt your love for me, or your loyalty to my King. You are more than my lover. You are a good man who would not willingly cause harm to any and seek revenge only upon those who would harm whom you love."
Trelaine gazed at Karandal with eyes that had turned dull and sorrowful. "If I ask a thing of you, would you do it for me?"
"I would."
"No matter the cost?"
"Ask what you will of me."
"I have within me the power to give you control over what I wish for. You can say yea or nay and I would have to abide by your decision. Are you strong enough? Can you take that power over me? Will you deny me when I rage at you and demand wishes if you know they will cause harm?"
Karandal thought very hard. Could he refuse that which he had seen in the council chamber? It was a measure of Trelaine's love for him, and trust in him, that he would be asked to hold a part of that magic in his hands.
"Yes," he replied.
Trelaine began to relax. "Good," he said and, "thank you. I have set you a difficult task but I cannot trust myself now where wishes are concerned. What was done today would have been better done by sword and not my wish. I am weary to my soul."
Karandal took his lover into his arms and held him, hoping to ease that which troubled his mind. He cradled Trelaine's head against his shoulder and gave what peace he could.
"I asked Llewelyn to send aid to the women and children of the tribesmen," Trelaine whispered.
Karandal did not ask what Trelaine had done. He was not sure he wanted to know. But as they drifted into an uneasy sleep, Karandal felt the impression of men who had been turned to glass and shattered by a single breath.
To be continued.
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