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. The first part includes some characters approximately sixteen years of age who would, I have been assured, be of the legal age of consent in some places.
Chapter Seven:
Time passed quickly but pleasantly for Xoachin. His afternoons were filled with study but the mornings were spent with Nels. He endeavored to teach his new friend not only courtly manners but how to read and write. The other students at Aolane also had their mornings free for Frayne was working in the archives with Ilafrain.
"I had the healers write an account of my father's injury and their treatment," he had said shortly after his return. "It might be of worth to hold in the healer section of the archive against the day that another fool uses a rusty blade to harvest grain."
"You care not at all for your father, do you?" Ilafrain asked.
"You know that I do not for it was you who rescued me from him and brought me here to study." He laughed softly. "He still believes it was your intent to corrupt me. He will not acknowledge that you never touched me."
"I sometime act with honorable intentions," Ilafrain responded. Then he sighed and added, "Resnaron stole your heart before I could entice you to my bed."
"You still rescue endangered souls," Frayne said.
"Oh? How so? Whom have I rescued lately?"
"Xoachin. Resnaron and I were in Lippize not six months back to check their herds. I saw Bellard grab the lad and fling him against a fence post. I singled the brute out later and told him that if he ever did it again I would kill him. If I had known that the unfortunate lad was Miralen's love, I would have killed Bellard then and brought Xoachin here."
"To kill Bellard would have broken the covenant with the Lippiz," Ilafrain said.
"I am not a king and made no such covenant," Frayne replied in a voice so cold that even Ilafrain felt its chill. "I would still like to see that bastard dead."
"Promise me that you will not tell Miralen," Ilafrain entreated. "Xoachin is safe now. There has been bad blood between Miralen and Bellard since the man's birth. I dread to think what he would do were he to learn of the cruelty shown to his love. Best to leave it be, Frayne," he said.
Frayne, although ten years older than Nels, took an interest in the two recent arrivals to Aolane. Nels seemed to blossom under Xoachin's friendship and showed a very quick mind indeed. His reading was still hesitant but improved daily and Frayne set about to teach the lad numbers.
The three soon became fast friends with Xoachin and Nels trailing after Frayne when they were not concerned with work or study. Frayne, a master storyteller, wove them tales of the early years of time when the land was young and men were new to existence. He told them of the covenant between Miralen and the Lippiz and the gift the High King had made of the beautiful horses.
"They are born black or gray," Xoachin told Nels.
"As they age they turn to white, although there is always at least one stallion among the herds who remains black. My mother says it is a part of Miralen's magic and they would cease to exist if there was no black stallion."
The evenings were spent in quiet companionship. The Kings would sit and talk of their dreams for the future of the ten kingdoms whilst their loves would recount their adventures to each other, for Xoachin and Nels were full of curiosity and continued to explore the castle and buildings surrounding it. On occasion Frayne would tell of the people he and Resnaron met on their journeys through the kingdoms and the herb lore of the old grandmothers who lived deep within the forests.
"I thought only the Kings were magic," Nels said one evening.
"Oh, no," Frayne replied. "The world itself is magic. All life is part of its creation. Only the Kings can use the magic but the grandmothers believe that there is a place, deep within the earth, which was the birthplace of the Kings. They say that their spirits will return there one day, when their task here is finished, to wait for a time when they are needed to guide men again."
One evening, when the Kings were in the great archive planning for the coming winter, Frayne told Xoachin and Nels more about the nature of their lovers.
"Resnaron broods at times because he feels inferior to the other two," he said. "His is not a joyous spirit for he feels compassion for the land and people. If crops are poor or the herds unproductive, he feels he is to blame. One winter was extremely harsh after a hot and dry summer. Many died that year and he still feels sorrow for them."
"What of Ilafrain?" Nels asked.
"Your love is a complicated piece of work," Frayne replied. "He frets that he is unable to feel true love. His abiding passion is the archive and he tends it as if it were his child. He is filled with care and concern for those around him, from his brother kings to the lowliest servant in the kingdom. He will give you all of himself that he can give, Nels, but never the love you seek."
"I am content enough," Nels replied. "I would rather have Ilafrain as my lover than Miralen. He frightens me at times."
"And well he should, with all apologies, Xoachin," Frayne said. "Miralen can love more deeply and passionately than his brother kings and that is his weakness. He leads men into battle well and wisely but will mourn endlessly for each one who dies.
That is why he trains his warriors every day, feeling that each man lost in battle is due to his failure to prepare them well. I fear that his sorrow will one day overwhelm him and he will lose all reason."
Days turned into the weeks and months which followed. Nels, lasting longer than any predecessor, basked in his new friendships and what fondness Ilafrain had for him. Frayne continued his work in the archives, helping to catalogue the scrolls he had brought back from his most recent journey with his love. And Xoachin forgot Frayne's words concerning the High King until Miralen woke screaming one night.
Xoachin bolted from the bed in fear for he had never seen his love thrash about so desperately nor heard the words of pain the King uttered. The sleeping chamber was quickly filled for Resnaron, Ilafrain, and their lovers were soon in the room with them.
Frayne thrust Xoachin's still nude body toward Nels saying, "Keep him away," and Nels held to his friend. The other two Kings went quickly to Miralen's side and took control as if it were something they had done countless times. Each took one of Miralen's hands before grasping their own together. Nels and Xoachin stared in awe as a blinding light filled the room accompanied by a sound that was like great, unseen wings.
As Miralen's screams ebbed to quiet mutterings, Frayne picked up Xoachin's long tunic and crossed to where the two frightened young men stood. Helping Nels to dress the trembling lad he said, "Take him with you for tonight. Our loves will continue the healing magic in the hours to come, for Miralen has remembered an early battle in which he lost many men."
"Will you come with us?" Nels asked.
"No," Frayne replied, "for I must be part of the magic as I have been many times before. Ilafrain will fill Miralen's mind with the good he has done through the centuries. Resnaron will remind him of the people's love for him. I am the mortal who will link him to the earth."
Nels led Xoachin from the room and down the corridor, now filled with frightened servants. "Away now!" the castle steward shouted to the servants. "Go about your business. Stay and you will be blinded by Qell magic."
The servants dispersed in small groups as Nels led his sobbing friend to the chamber he shared with Ilafrain. The two crept into the huge bed and Nels held Xoachin close to him as great sobs wracked his body.
"I should be helping," Xoachin managed between sobs.
"You might, one day," Nels answered. "Frayne has been ten years with the kings and shares a special bond with them through Resnaron. You must sleep now for your love will have need of you later."
Chapter Eight:
A week passed and Miralen remained unconscious and unaware. Xoachin and Nels sat with him each day and Xoachin became filled with despair for the High King. Nels held his friend closely each night as Resnaron and Ilafrain continued their healing magic. When Xoachin became frantic with worry, Frayne joined the two young men and helped to ease their fear with his strength and maturity.
One evening, as he recovered, Miralen lay with Xoachin curled against him. "Are you still happy here with me," he asked, "now that you have seen me thus? Your letters to your mother are filled with tales of drudgery and hardship."
Xoachin thought quickly for Miralen must never know the truth. "If my lady mother knew that I was filled with happiness," he said and told a partial truth, "she would feel that I no longer have need of her. I am her only son and it gives her some pleasure to think that I would prefer to be at home."
"And would you?" the king queried.
"I desire to stay with you always, my love. I would surely wish to die should I ever leave you."
"Have a care what you wish, lad," Frayne said when Xoachin recounted his conversation with Miralen. "The old grandmothers believe that wishes made in the company of the Qell will come true."
Two years passed and Xoachin grew taller. His silver hair was streaked from time spent in the sun for Nels still remained with Ilafrain and the two rode daily. Both young men grew in confidence and Frayne's guidance in the ways to deal with their sometimes difficult lovers. Miralen had no further painful memories but Xoachin was constantly aware that the man he loved was always but a breath away from a kind of madness.
Nels reached his twentieth year and had matured in face and form. He was happy in the life he had with Ilafrain and his friends. He sometimes traveled with Resnaron and Frayne, finding he had developed an interest in the lore and legends of the kingdoms. No one seemed to notice that Frayne sometimes glanced at him with more than simple friendship.
The three close friends returned from riding one day to find the Kings waiting for them in Miralen's apartment. The High King held a small scroll in his left hand and solemnly handed it to Xoachin.
"What is wrong?" Xoachin asked, for Miralen's demeanor was one of great reluctance.
"This came for you by special courier," the king responded. "It is from your father."
Xoachin took the scroll and hastily read it. "My mother is gravely ill," he said. "I must return home at once. My father writes that she has little time left."
Frayne, barely concealing his hatred for Bellard said, "I will go with you. You may need a friend." It was difficult for him to bite back the word `guard'.
Nels immediately summoned the steward and gave the order for horses and provisions be made ready for the journey.
"Return to me," Miralen said as he gave his love a kiss and grasped him in a tight embrace.
"I will be back when my mother has regained her health or been laid to rest," Xoachin replied as he returned the kiss. "Only death could keep me from you."
The journey was rapid as Xoachin and Frayne sped toward Lippize. They stopped only to grant the horses time to rest and feed. For themselves, they slept in their saddles.
They arrived at Xoachin's boyhood home just after sunrise four days later. They handed their horses over to young grooms and were led immediately to Bellard's study.
"Is this man the reason you have ignored my pleas to return home?" Bellard demanded as the two entered the study. His face was florid with anger at the easy way between his son and the handsome man who had once threatened to kill him. "Ilafrain took you to that den of iniquity. I know you have been corrupted."
"My mother," Xoachin interjected, "what of my mother?"
"Bah!" Bellard exclaimed. "Her illness was but a way to get you back here where you belong."
"I belong in Aolane," Xoachin replied.
"With such as this?"
"Have a care for your tongue, Bellard," Frayne said, "lest I remove it from your vile mouth. Xoachin is not my lover."
"No, I am not," Xoachin added, full of confidence after two years absence from Lippize. "The High King is my lover and was before I went to Aolane."
"That ... that bastard!" Bellard shouted. "I will have no son of mine warm the bed of that creature!"
Xoachin stood across the room from where Bellard leaned against the hearth mantle, Frayne slightly in front of him. Frayne saw Bellard's eyes go to a javelin leaning close to hand. Armed only with a sword and dagger, Frayne shouted, "NO!" and moved to close the distance between himself and the deranged man, drawing his sword as he crossed the room.
Frayne's sword separated Bellard's head from his shoulders as the javelin struck deep within Xoachin's heart. Dropping his bloody sword on the stone floor, Frayne rushed back to Xoachin and grasped the boy's hand.
Blood seeped slowly from one corner of Xoachin's mouth as he whispered, "Tell Miralen that I love him."
As the spirit of life fled from the limp body on the floor, Frayne threw back his head and screamed, "Resnaron!"
Chapter Nine:
The province of Lippize woke to a perfect day. Sunrise greeted those who were up early.
A ten-year old boy yawned as he opened the gate to a herd of milk-beasts and led them toward the pasture. The bell around the neck of the lead beast clanged loudly in the early morning stillness. A small girl, a slight mustache of milk lining her upper lip, donned her bonnet and picked up a small stick from outside the cottage door. She set off about her business of driving a gaggle of geese toward a nearby pond. A young mother rose and took her tiny infant from the cradle near the bed and bared her breast for the child's hungry lips.
Farmers set out toward their fields, sickles across their shoulders. The harvest this year would be abundant thanks to the new seed provided by King Resnaron. Stable hands roused themselves from deep sleep and started to sweep the muck left behind after the horses were turned out to the paddocks.
Greetings and gentle laughter accompanied the people of Lippize as they went about their daily business. And, in an instant, their lives ended. Quietly, painlessly, they simply ceased to exist.
Far out, at the very edges of their land, a lightning bolt struck in the drywood. One small spark resulted and fire felt itself called into life. The fire woke slowly, stretching its arms tenuously upward lest it be seen and stopped. With no enemy near at hand, the fire began a dance through the dry brush.
A gentle breeze greeted the small, dancing flames and seemed to whisper, "Go, spread yourselves for there is none to stop you. Today you may do that which you were born to do."
The fire rose higher, the flames began to burn brighter. It moved, slowly at first, then gaining in strength. The wind grew with it and began to sing a siren's song, luring the fire inward. It danced, great gossamer wings of orange outflung and rejoicing.
Held in bondage for so long, it grasped the freedom it felt in the magic that infused it.
Unrestrained, it spread with joyous abandon. Animals fled in fear and it gave them leave to escape for such was the message the magic whispered. Homes, fields, and forests were its prey.
The flames spread toward the center of the province, hungrily tasting everything they touched. Arms spread forward as the reached the center of their existence and found the castle of the Lippize dukes.
"No," the magic insisted. "That place you may not have." They retreated, tried again, and felt the magic threaten to end their path of destruction before they were finished.
Within the walls of the fortress of Aolane, Miralen grasped the hands of his brother Qell. They knew his pain and felt his grief. Magic they were and magic was demanded of them. Miralen had called the covenant broken and the Qell would support his decision. But, where Miralen wanted pain and suffering, Resnaron demanded compassion.
"Only Bellard is the cause of Xoachin's death," he said. "If all of the Lippiz must die, then it must be swift and painless." Even Miralen's great anger could not make Resnaron retreat from his decision. "Do not defy me!" Resnaron shouted, for the first time in his existence using the full force of himself as a lord of magic. "If you defy me then I will end all of us, here and now!"
Miralen retreated at the force of Resnaron's resolve. "If need be, then I will allow," he said. "But the land and the people must end."
Frayne, at the insistence of Resnaron and Ilafrain, had hurried Nels onto one of the swiftest horses in the stable and away from the center of Elanen. "We must go, and quickly," he said. "They are working a dark magic such as I have never seen before and they fear now for our lives."
They rode for hours, away from Aolane and into the deepest part of the forest. When they stopped at dusk, an eerie glow could be seen far to the north, so great that it reflected off of low-lying clouds.
"What is that?" Nels asked.
"Once upon a time it was Lippize," Frayne replied.
"You mean all of it is gone? An entire province?" Nels asked in wonder and fear. "The Qell have completely destroyed it?"
"I greatly fear so," Frayne replied.
"But you do not know," was Nels' response. "Perhaps some still live."
"Nay, lad," Frayne said looking into Nels' troubled eyes. "Resnaron showed me that which was done. Every mortal human is gone. The Lippiz are no more. Even the land will be rendered inhabitable to mankind."
"But how could they do it?" Nels asked.
"Miralen has lost all reason. His grief is so overwhelming that his mind went beyond reality and knew naught but revenge. It was only my own gracious lord's compassion that gave the Lippiz a quick and painless death for Miralen would have caused them endless pain and suffering."
"And Ilafrain?" Nels asked, "could he not stop it?"
"The High King has ever been the stronger of the three," Frayne explained. "The others could not stop him. They are part of the same breath of life and each has his place. Ilafrain was the conduit through which flew the magic that ended in what you see in the distance."
Nels leaned against Frayne, tears running down his face at the needless death of so many. Xoachin had been as a brother to him and his heart felt a deep heaviness at the loss of his friend.
"Here, boy," Frayne said, handing him a square of linen for his nose.
"I am not a boy!" Nels suddenly exclaimed and pushed away from Frayne. "I am a man!" for the events had aged him greatly.
"Then act like a man," Frayne responded. "Blow your nose and wipe away your tears. I saw a patch of berries near here that will make an acceptable meal. We make a cold camp tonight and begin our journey tomorrow."
"Journey?" Nels asked. "Back to Aolane?"
"Away from there," Frain answered. "You and I are not safe there until Miralen has exhausted his anger. He has lost the one he loved and will not look kindly on Resnaron and Ilafrain having what he has lost. We are going to travel the kingdoms. All will have seen that eerie glow," he added pointing to the north. "And the grandmothers who can see into magic will know what befell Lippize. You and I must go among the people and try to learn their reaction. The Lippiz were among the most favored with their gentle ways and unique appearance. I fear there might be repercussions."
"From men?" Nels asked in wonder.
"What Miralen has caused to be done, Nels, goes beyond comprehension. You and I knew Xoachin and the love the two shared. We ourselves are lovers of the Qell, yet we cannot grasp the extent of Miralen's wrath. What more would you expect of men who have never know the warmth of their embrace or the depth of their emotions?"
Nels had no response, his eyes locked on the fire that still glowed in the distance. "I am afraid," he whispered.
To be continued.
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