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
M.C. Gordon
Part Two: Karandal
Chapter Nineteen
The weather improved over the ensuing days and warmth melted the last of the late winter snow. With a treaty of peace successfully negotiated and signed, Llewelyn sent couriers to his queen to see that wagons were swiftly loaded with wheat, barley, and vegetables fro the previous harvest in Endril. Trelaine sent word to Lords Lingred and Egbert for such as was available from Elanen to add to the foodstuffs for the starving nomads.
Farmers arrived bringing seed, and oxen to plow new fields. Herders followed with flocks of chickens, gaggles of geese, and herds of cattle and goats. They settled in easily with the nomads and curious children soon learned that the nature of a goose is not as pleasant as its appearance.
Satisfied that all was going well, Llewelyn left Lord Montar to serve as his liason with Lord Galvak. He bid Trelaine and Karandal travel with him to Chamel for a short visit before returning to their own affairs.
Queen Bolyn had a warm embrace for her husband and chaste kisses for their guests when they entered the castle at Chamel. Over a pleasant meal in the family chambers that evening she broached a subject to Karandal.
"I have a suitable candidate for your sister's hand," she said. "The lad and his parents are agreeable."
Karandal stared at her. "Selmaris? But she is barely ten years of age!" he protested. "She is too young for a firm offer of marriage."
"Ten is quite a proper age for one who will mother the heir to Enworthy," Bolyn responded. "I was pledged to your king when I was but eight."
Karandal was not convinced as he pictured the gentle child whom he had held in his arms on the day their mother had given birth to her.
"The lad I have in mind will do well by her," Bolyn said. "My inquiry into suitable lads brought him to my attention. As he is fostered here, I have spent much time with him of late. He is a gentle boy, full of curiosity. He was raised to be polite and considerate of others. He has a good mind and easily grasps ideas both political and domestic. I believe you already know Danel, youngest of Lord Kerdin's sons."
"But Danel is only fifteen years himself!" Karandal exclaimed.
"In truth, Karandal," Llewelyn remarked, "you would have been betrothed at fifteen had you not been as you are. And had you been the eldest son, even your nature would not have prevented betrothal or marriage."
Karandal was quite distraught at the idea that he might have been forced to marry and provide an heir. He shuddered as he thought of the act of conceiving a child and his demeanor changed, misery written upon his face.
Trelaine burst into laughter. "If only you could see yourself," he said. "You look as if you would prefer flogging to such a prospect."
Bolyn changed the course of the conversation by saying, "Then it is well that you were the youngest son and have your sister when she is of age."
When the evening ended Trelaine both bid Llewelyn a good night and took the queen's hand to kiss. Bolyn looked up at Karandal and said gently, "Talk to your mother about young Danel. She will agree; I assure you. She would allow nothing not in Selmaris' favor. If she requests, then we will send Danel to foster at Enworthy. Trust me in this, young Duke. Your mother will have already mentioned your suggestion to Selmaris. I believe these two young people will grow fond of each other. And if they do not, then another can be sought for your dear sister."
Karandal worried through the night and began to regret his approval of Trelaine's plan. But Danel was summoned to breakfast with the royal family and their guests the next morning and quickly put Karandal's fears to rest.
Danel was tall and gangly for his age, with a crop of unruly red hair that refused to do as requested. His eyes were deep blue. His features betrayed the aristocracy that was his heritage, with a nose that was a little too large. He was reaching manhood and his voice, pleasant to the ear, occasionally plunged into broken sounds that brought a crimson tinge to his skin.
"I, too, was the youngest son," Karandal said to Danel when they had finished their meal. "What task has your father set for you?"
"I work with my father's horses, Sire," he replied.
"Is it a task you enjoy?" Trelaine inquired.
"Oh yes, My Lord," was the enthusiastic reply. "We heard that you sent one of Egraine's breeding to Enworthy. I would like to see him, if I may."
"See him you shall," Karandal said, reaching across to further muss the red hair. "You and I will have much in common, lad."
Trelaine was visibly upset when Llewelyn kept him the entire day working over the peace treaty and discussing the transportation of goods between their kingdoms. He had so little time left to be with Karandal and wanted to spend every moment with his love.
Karandal, on the other hand, was quite enjoying himself. He and young Danel spent the day at the paddocks and measured the possibility of every steed in residence.
"Which stallion would you put to the bay mare over there?" Karandal asked.
Danel studied the horses available and replied, "None, Sire. She has a nervous nature and needs to breed with a steady male or her get will be too high strung to be of use. The trait is good in a war-horse, but not in the breed that ladies ride. I would not let your lady sister ride her." Suddenly unsure of himself he glanced toward Karandal. "At least, I don't think so."
"You reason well," Karnadal replied. "You know your horseflesh, lad. And the concern you show for one you have not met puts you in good stead in my eyes."
They boy blushed at the unexpected praise. Assuming a brevity he had never known before he asked, "Is it true that you and King Trelaine are lovers?"
"It is," Karandal replied, wondering if this question would cause trouble between himself and the boy.
"It must be awesome to lie at night next to someone made of magic," Danel said.
"If you learn to care for Selmaris as I care for Trelaine," Karandal replied, "then it will be magic for you also."
Danel seemed to take his words so much to heart that Karandal could not resist adding, "But if harm should come to her, you will have to answer to the Qell Lord."
"Oh, My Lord! I would never think of doing harm to anyone, least of all she who will be my wife. I hope you do not think that I am such a man ... well, boy."
Karandal reached down and lifted Danel's face until their eyes met. "I did but jest, Danel. I do not believe you would harm Selmaris or anyone else. You have won my acceptance to the betrothal. Now you must win hers, for I will not give my sister to wed any man she wishes to refuse."
"Do you think I can?" the boy asked.
"Be always kind to her, and honest with her. Treat her as your equal. Show her humor, compassion, and intelligence. Take her into your confidence. These seem small things but they are the foundation for any good marriage."
That night, resting on the pallet in the room granted him, Danel took all that Karandal had told him to heart. "I will be a good husband," he told himself.
Trelaine, on the other hand, was not so pleased. "You seem content after a day without me," he said to Karandal. "We have so little time before we must part."
Karandal moved closer, turned Trelaine's head toward his, and said, "Did Llewelyn not tell you? When I have settled Danel with my mother at Enworthy I am free to be with you. She has already been confirmed as Regent and Llewelyn has released me from my fealty to him. I must but keep in contact with my lady mother to ensure that all goes well in Enworthy. And, should Llewelyn issue another call to arms, I will lead Enworthy until Danel is of age. In but a few weeks, my love, I will join you in Aolane and will be together forever."
Chapter Twenty
"Grandmama misses you," Gwenwyn said to Karandal as they sat in front of the enormous fireplace in the apartments his family used when visiting Aolane.
"As I miss her," he replied. "But we both grow too great in age for the long journey to visit often. Her missives tell me that she is doing well. Is she really? She and Danel were devoted to each other and I know his death must have affected her more deeply than she tells me." He was greatly concerned for his younger sister, young no longer and with great-grandchildren in residence at their ancestral home in Enworthy.
Selmaris, true to Queen Bolyn's instincts, had indeed been pleased with Danel. The two became good friends during the years Danel was fostered at Enworthy and were truly in love by the time they were old enough to wed.
Lady Annalie handed the regency of Enworthy to Danel when her first grandson, Pentar, was born and slipped quietly from the world when Pentar the man pledged his fealty to Llewelyn's son, Reidel: King of Endril.
Selmaris, Danel, and their children were frequent guests in Aolane. Karandal adored his nephews and nieces, who returned his affection full fold. The children were not at all daunted by the lord of magic who ruled Elanen. Instead, they called Trelaine Uncle and sat on his shoulders for pony rides up and down the massive staircases of Aolane.
The children grew, married, and their children also enjoyed visiting their two uncles. Favorite among these was Gwenwyn. She bore the most resemblance to Karandal's beloved sister with her fair complexion, soft gray eyes, and hair the color of cornsilk.
Gwenwyn's marriage to one of Lord Galvak's grandsons was of political convenience. She was not pleased with her chosen husband, although she tried to make the union successful for she understood politics, having been taught by her father and grandmother. But she also knew that broken ribs and blackened eyes had nothing to do with politics and finally took her plight to the aging Galvak. With her marriage dissolved, she took her twin children and returned to Enworthy. Her current visit to the men she loved more than any, save her father, was to meet a young lord named Jerain who had pleased the High King with his diligence and recently been granted the title and a province of his own.
Gwenwyn was about to stop her twins, Tristanan and Trelania, called Tris and Trell respectively by Trelaine, from making a nest for a yard bitch and her litter of pups in front of the fireplace when they heard the sound of boots ascending the stairs and passing swiftly past the apartment.
"Shall I inquire if you have another guest?" she asked Karandal.
"No," he replied. "It is probably one of your brothers or cousins and we will know soon enough." He glanced toward the fireplace and began to laugh. "I think you had best tend to Tris and Trell before the pups make short work of your slippers."
Gwenwyn gasped and called her maid, Amfin, to aid in ending the chaos the six year old twins had loosed on the household. A mad scramble ensued and Karandal laughed as he snagged one pup by the scruff of its neck.
Order was finally restored with the bitch and pups back outside and the twins taken to the kitchen for a snack before their nap.
"You realize, do you not," Karandal remarked to Gwenwyn, "that Tris will never take a wife?"
She laughed in return. "A favor granted to all of us. I tremble at the thought that more like that scamp would come into this world. Pity the man who falls for him, for Tristanan has a mind of his own."
She suddenly became very serious. "My deepest fear is that he might be tainted by his father's blood. And my dearest wish is that my own brother was here to guide him."
"Valsan made his own choice, Gwenwyn. He could not deny his love. You know that Trelaine was most upset when the more snobbish members of the family turned their backs on Valsan. Love seldom makes sense and that part of Trelaine that has memories of Resnaron and Ilafrain can recall the love they had for Frayne and Nels. If two parts of him could have loved men of low birth, imagine how he felt when your cousins outcast Valsan because he fell in love with a goat herder's son. Valsan was so hurt by the reaction that I doubt he will ever return to Enworthy."
"I know," Gwenwyn replied. "I miss him, and I found no fault with Ivanise. Nor did Grandmama, for the last time Valsan was at Enworthy she asked why Ivanise had not come also."
Their conversation was interrupted when the castle steward, Monrale, suddenly entered the room.
"Lord Valsan has returned," he told them. "And I greatly fear that something is quite amiss for he has locked himself into his old room and denies entry to any of the servants."
Gwenwyn knocked at Valsan's door for an hour and pleaded with him to no avail. He would not acknowledge her presence. She returned to Karandal, fear and worry written across her face.
The aging man, leaning heavily on a walking stick for his back and hips pained him, slowly made his way down the long corridor to the room Valsan had claimed for himself as a youth.
"Valsan," he called as he knocked on the door, "it is I. We are concerned for you."
"Go away," was the only response.
Gwenwyn was near to hysteria when Trelaine returned from his business at the western end of Elanen. But she did not rush to him with her worry for he had been gone nearly a week and Karandal was his first concern. She waited and watched as the Qell crossed the room and took his lover of nearly sixty years in his arms and kissed him.
Trelaine could tell that something bothered them both and, when he had broken the embrace, inquired about their apparent agitation.
"Valsan returned this afternoon," Karandal supplied, "alone."
"He will speak to no one," Gwenwyn added, "not even to myself or our uncle."
. . .
"Valsan," Trelaine said quietly outside the door, Karandal and Gwenwyn remaining in the sitting room, "let me in."
"No!" came the reply.
"Valsan," Trelaine spoke, again quietly, "I am coming in, with or against your will."
Valsan reluctantly unlocked the door for the High King.
Trelaine was shocked by the young man's appearance. His blonde hair had not been groomed in days and his face and eyes were puffed from crying. There were scratches and bruises on his fair skin.
"Who did this to you?" Trelaine demanded.
"I did it to myself," the young man replied softly before thrusting himself into Trelaine's arms and crying out, "he's dead. Ivanise is dead."
Trelaine led him to a chair near the fireplace before calling for a page to summon a maid with warm water and linen cloths. "Tell me what happened," he said gently.
"It was a kid," Valsan began. "It got lost from the rest of the herd and we went to find it. Ivanise thought he heard it crying out near the edge of a cliff. Then we saw a mountain cat. Fearing the cat would attack the kid Ivanise rushed toward the edge and could not stop himself in time. He fell." Valsan began to shudder and cry again. "I scrambled down as quickly as I could and nearly fell myself. When I got to the bottom and found him, his body broken and dead, I wished I had fallen myself."
He suddenly leapt from the chair and began to pace quickly. "I looked for that damned goat," he said. "I wanted to find it and kill it because my lover would not be dead if not for that stupid animal."
Trelaine well understood how the young man felt but said, "Be grateful that you did not. I know that revenge sounds sweet but, believe me, it is not. It brings only suffering to the innocent. And, Valsan, the kid was innocent of any wrongdoing."
"Uncle? Would you do a little magic for me?" Valsan asked.
"What kind of magic?"
"Please take my memories away. I cannot live without him and I think of him constantly."
"No, Valsan," Trelaine replied. "I will not take that most precious memory away from you. Love comes to us so seldom and is to be cherished. One day you will hold his memory very close to your heart." There were tears in his eyes as he thought of the long dead Xoachin.
The maid arrived and Trelaine admitted her. Casting a soft magic around Valsan, he rendered him amenable to her ministrations. She cleansed his wounds with healing herbal water and bound them in soft, clean linen.
When she left, Trelaine assisted Valsan to his bed and cast once again, magic that would bring sleep, and gentle dreams, and begin the long process of healing a broken heart.
"He sleeps now," the Qell explained to Karandal and Gwenwyn when he had finished telling them what had happened. "And he will stay with us at Aolane until he is able to determine what to do with the remainder of his life."
He held Karandal closely that night, for his lover was growing old and Trelaine knew the time they had left together was short.
Chapter Twenty One:
It was late spring and the day was warm. Karandal and Trelaine sat in the shade beneath a majestic oak. The courtyard garden of Aolane castle had ever been one of their favorite places. A soft breeze blew, bringing with it the gentle scent of flowers and herbs.
"Have you been happy with me, Karandal? Trelaine asked his love of many years.
"More than you can imagine," was the soft reply. "But I am so very tired."
"I know," Trelaine said. "I could wish you young again."
"A wish I forbid you," Karandal replied. "To allow such a wish would have results the likes of which we cannot begin to think on."
Tears formed in Trelaine's silver eyes. "I will be alone," he said, "for you have become the essence of my life."
"Then I entreat you to find someone who will bring you love and happiness, as I have been pleased to ease your loss of Xoachin."
"I may find pleasure in another," Trelaine replied, "but I will never love again."
They sat in peaceful quiet beneath the ancient tree. Karandal leaned his whitened head against Trelaine's shoulder and took his hand. No words were said for none were necessary. Each knew what the other thought and felt.
The air began to cool as the sun started her descent in the western sky. Trelaine felt Karandal's fingers squeeze tightly against his own and then the hand fell limp.
Their personal guard found them sitting thus, Trelaine cradling the cooling body of the man he loved above all else in life. They summoned servants and aided them to carry Karandal inside. The castle steward sent a courier to Enworthy to inform Karandal's kin of his passing.
Trelaine withdrew and spent the evening alone, lost in his heartache. The next morning he rose from his cold bed and stood in front of his window. He had no time now for his sorrow. The people of Elanen looked to him for strength and guidance, and he would busy himself seeing to their needs. Sorrow could wait; he had nearly five hundred years before him in which to mourn the passing of his love.
To be continued in Part Three: Fanna
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