Note: This is a gay themed 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
M.C. Gordon
Part Four: Devlin
Chapter Twenty Two
Frieden looked around the courtyard of Aolane from his position on the castle steps. The procession would soon begin. He still found it difficult to believe that Toran, his grandson, would soon be crowned King of Elanen and a tear ran down his face for he wished Katya had lived to see this day.
The kings from the other nine kingdoms were riding in the procession, each accompanied by a warrior who would bear the King's pennant. Other kingdoms were also represented, those which had been formed after Trelaine was summoned by Menfred centuries earlier.
The oldest of the riders was Dari, now white-haired and uncomfortable on a horse. He had no kingdom, for Pompeni was now only a memory, but he was still a king and the animal wildlife refuge had flourished under his watchful guardianship.
Frieden felt a hand on his left shoulder and placed his right hand on it. Here was comfort and understanding for how deeply he missed his wife just now. Non, his lifelong friend, stood to his left. To his right was his son, Beltrae.
Devlin stood on the highest step, a written proclamation in his hand. The years had been kind to Devlin and he did not show his age of nearly seventy years.
The residents of Aolane and visitors from all parts of Elanen let go a mighty shout as the procession approached the castle. Colorful bits of cloth were waved and flower petals tossed into the air as the people rejoiced.
The kings dismounted first and each took his assigned place on the castle steps. The Captain of the Guard, Shanklen's and Pistach's son Wendel, took the reins from Toran and held the mighty war-horse still as Toran dismounted.
Dressed in black breeches, a dark green tunic, and russet cloak, Toran slowly made his way to the top of the steps at the precise instant Trelaine appeared.
The High King had not changed in appearance from the day Menfred had summoned him. Tall and regal, his hair was still blacker than night. He nodded and Devlin stepped forward.
"Be it known to all," he read, "that this day in Elanen a new King is crowned. His paternal lineage runs through Enworthy, back to the mother and father of the High King's lover Karandal, brought to Elanen in his grandfather, Frieden. It runs through Elanen, from the bloodlines of Nels and Frayne in the person of his grandmother, Katya. His maternal lineage runs through Endril, for his mother was Princess Pela of Endril, distant descendent of King Llewelyn . The bloodline has been certified by nine of the ten kings, the High King having abstained."
Devlin stepped back and Trelaine lifted a crown of delicate gold filigree above his head. A gentle sound ran through those who could see a ray of sun touch the crown.
"Toran, son of Beltrae, son of Frieden, son of Jodel, I crown you King of Elanen," Trelaine said as he placed the crown on Toran's head and stepped to Devlin's side.
The handsome twenty-five year old man turned to face his new subjects, still unable to believe that he had been named heir to the vast kingdom of Elanen.
. . .
"But why?" Toran asked when Trelaine had summoned him two years earlier and told him he would one day be Elanen's king.
"Because you have the intelligence and conviction to make a good king," Trelaine said. "I have been a king, all told, nearly eight hundred years through two existences. I am weary of leadership. I will remain in Elanen to offer you guidance should you need it, but I think you will not."
The next two years were spent in earnest council with the other kings setting into place laws and contingencies that would no longer be handled by a High King. Courts of Arbitration were set up to deal with possible future conflicts between the kingdoms. Laws of Trade and Borders were written, discussed, and rewritten. Rules of inheritance, weights and measures, monetary denomination were standardized. Aolane would remain the center of learning but archives in other kingdoms would be expanded to ease the burden on Elanen.
"I will choose to leave you all one day," Trelaine announced during the final council meeting. "The last time the Qell left, the kingdoms were at war and my brothers died. They are with me now and this is a thing we have all agreed upon. There will be no revenge sought when we leave this world again. The kingdoms will continue to know peace and prosperity. There will be no reason for us to return unless we are called upon."
. . .
Toran had been King for five years and had proven himself worthy of Trelaine's trust and crown. Elanen continued to prosper; the kingdoms were all at peace.
Trelaine sat alone in the castle garden for there was now a sixth grave. He leaned forward and openly cried into his hands. He had lived so very long, and lost too many he had loved. He knew he could not truly die, for magic never does, but he no longer desired to live.
The graves were set to form a circle and Trelaine rose from his seat and walked into the circle. Summoning a magic that was best left untouched, he sought first the white flame. When it appeared, he bade it increase in intensity until his living flesh could no longer survive. The fire burned itself out and the smoke that remained sank slowly into the center of the circle, reaching out to touch each of the six graves.
Some said the High King had left to heal his heart elsewhere after Devlin died. It was a thing he had done before. Others believed that the magic of the Qell had simply exhausted itself. But the forest grandmothers knew that the Qell lay just below the surface of the earth ^Ö watching, waiting.
. . .
And so, gentle readers, this tale comes to an end. Your comments and support have been invaluable as I labored to create this world of fantasy where good triumphs over evil by absorbing it and it doesn't matter to anyone if you love someone of the same gender. For love is love, and will not allow itself to be denied.
Will the Qell ever return? I guess that depends on how well this work is received. I'm trying to find a publisher who will take it on in the real world of printed books. That doesn't mean that I won't do a sequel here if Nifty readers want one. This has taken almost three years to write so a sequel might not show up right away.
Bless you all for your wonderful encouragement.
Comments to quasito_cat@hotmail.com