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 characters, settings, and plots.
Dark Wishes
M.C. Gordon
Part Three: Fanna
Chapter Seven
The High King of Elanen knelt in the clean straw of the stable, willing the new foal to stand. Filadon, the name that had come to him for the newborn, was not tall enough to reach his dame's teat to suckle.
"He will have to be hand fed if he is to survive," a voice said and Trelaine looked up to see Fanna watching, his forearms resting on the top rung of fencing surrounding the birthing area. "He is small for a war-horse," Fanna said.
"Much too small," Trelaine answered.
"I am hard pressed to believe that he is the get of Phaedon." Fanna glanced across the stable toward Trelaine's giant war-horse. Phaedon was part of the King's magic on the battlefield and Dradera was his mate.
"He was bred for you, Fanna," Trelaine said. "I know you care not to ride but you ride well. Filadon will be a gentle steed for you if you win his affection now."
Fanna vaulted across the top rail and went to kneel with Trelaine next to the foal. "Is he really mine?" he asked in awe as the tiny creature nuzzled against his face. Greatly moved by the gift of this precious life, he edged himself toward the towering Dradera and gently pulled on one teat. Her milk flowed freely and he glanced about, surprised when Evander handed him a bowl.
"For the milk," his servant said.
The following weeks passed quickly as Trelaine tended to the business of Elanen. Fanna divided his time between the archives and the foal which depended upon for him life until he was large enough to suckle on his own.
When Trelaine slept, Fanna lay close to him. Nothing passed between them until the night Fanna whispered, "Will you love me, My Lord?"
. . .
Trelaine filled the next two years with as much love as he could bestow on Fanna. He listened to each new idea his love had to improve the archives and instituted each one. The archives were now arranged according to subject and era. Trelaine searched Elanen for any likely prospects and installed ten young people as apprentices to Fanna. The aged scrolls were copied many times, sealed, and sent throughout the ten kingdoms.
Trelaine smiled as he listened to his dear love explain the importance of preserving and sharing the knowledge contained in the ancient writings. The cost of Fanna's tutors was repaid a thousand-fold for he truly understood the importance of the written word.
In return for their generosity, tattered scrolls arrived at Aolane on a daily basis. Trelaine watched as Fanna gently unrolled each one and expressed delight at some new bit of ancient history, piece of pottery, or work that had to have been the result of an active imagination.
Trelaine sent to Artilan for the loan of an artist when Fanna bemoaned that many of the scrolls contained drawings and there was no one in Aolane who could copy them. Sendit arrived and tried to claim the castle garden as his domain, insisting that there was not enough light in the room that housed the archives. Trelaine had a new room added to the castle with larger windows and more light.
As time passed, Aolane was quickly becoming a center for learning and preservation. Fanna was happy, the kingdom was at peace, and Trelaine could ask for little more.
Fanna found time each day and evening to spend in the stables with Filadon. Trelaine leaned against the bars of the stall to watch his love tend to the growing foal. Chuckling to himself, Trelaine remembered when Fanna had proclaimed his preference to use his feet to carry him from one place to another. Now his gentle lover was impatient for the time when he could sit astride the young creature growing from foal to colt.
"When will I be able to ride him?" Fanna often asked.
"When he is older," the constant reply.
In frustration, Fanna once exclaimed, "I don't think he'll ever be big enough."
"Patience, love," Trelaine advised. "He will grow. Never as large as his sire or dame, but a good size for you." Trelaine never let Fanna know that he had wished, not bred, Filadon's size. Wishes could be terrible things but the King was learning to control and focus his wishes. To wish a war-horse that Fanna could ride was a benevolent and precious gift to his love.
Fanna was not a warrior and never would be. His spirit was most at home in the archives and Trelaine often thought of Ilafrain who was happiest with his nose buried in scrolls. But Trelaine knew that Fanna would stand beside him in battle as Ilafrain had stood by Miralen. The thought worried him but he knew there were some ways in which he had no control over his lover.
Fanna's love for Sigil never lingered between them, nor did Trelaine's love for Xoachin and Karandal. They understood and accepted that each had loved and been loved before. Still, Trelaine was pleased to hear Fanna call out his name when passion overcame them. And he enjoyed the feel of the warm, young body against his, Fanna's head resting on his shoulder, and the feel of his fingers as they twined through his long black locks of hair. Fanna's warm breath on his naked chest sent a feeling of contentment through his mind and body. Trelaine would have been content to spend the next sixty or more years of his life as it was now, with his kingdom at peace, his life content, and his lover sleeping quietly against him after physically reaffirming their love for each other.
. . .
Over breakfast a handful of days after Trelaine received the request from King Artilan, he told Fanna that he was leaving for Endril the next day. "Will you come with me?" he asked. "You may remain here if you prefer but I would very much enjoy your company."
Fanna had been expecting the question since the letter's arrival. He was reluctant to return to Endril and tangible reminders of Sigil, but he had been the High King's lover for two years and would not be parted from him. Smiling, he took Trelaine's hand and said, "I would like very much to go with you."
"You will ride Tilla," Trelaine said. "I know that he is a gelding but he will cause you no trouble and we must make haste on our journey. I will ride Sethen."
He noted the crestfallen look on his lover's face as the lad asked, "I may not ride Filadon? Master Ahearn assures me that he is fully trained. I have ridden him around the paddock many times."
"Nay, love," Trelaine replied. "The path we take through the mountains is for more nimble steeds. War-horses were not bred to be ridden through those treacherous passes. But we will bring Filadon and Phaedon with us. You learned much while in the care of Artilan and Grislen; perhaps they can see that you learn how to ride a horse into battle for I have despaired of teaching you."
Fanna was disturbed by the remark until he saw the loving smile on Trelaine's face. It was true, for all his great patience Trelaine seemed unable to teach him how to ride a war-horse and use weapons of war. That he would be allowed to take Filadon and train in the proper way to ride the two-year old colt pleased him greatly.
"I will learn as best I can, My Lord," he said.
"Dilby and Evander will see that our things are made ready for the journey. There is, in the garden, a secluded place where fallen leaves have made a quiet cushion through the years. There are roses near at hand and if I scatter their petals on the leaves their fragrance will be released as we lie upon them."
Fanna blushed at the thought of what Trelaine was suggesting. He reached out and twined his fingers through those of the man he loved. As Trelaine kissed him, he wondered if he could control himself until they made it to the garden.
Chapter Eight
The journey to Endril took several days for the high passes were still covered with late winter snow. Fanna quickly realized Trelain's wisdom in using Tilla and Sethen for they were sure and nimble of foot, easily picking their path across patches of ice amongst the craggy rocks of the mountain passes.
Their party made their camp each night in large caves in the mountains. The caves were used by all travelers between Endril and Elanen and were kept well stocked by both kingdoms for not all travelers could carry their own provisions. Trelaine made sure they carried enough provisions that he could add to each camp and the pack-horses were soon relieved of the bags of dried venison they carried.
He held Fanna in his arms each night but did not make love to him, although he voiced no objection when others of their group did. For Trelaine, the love he shared with Fanna was not meant for public display beyond the natural affection they showed each other. The physical recognition of that love was for quiet moments between the two of them.
The journey became easier as they left the mountains and entered the kingdom of Endril. Spring had arrived in the valley, the days and nights were warmer, and grass had grown tall enough for the horses to feed.
Their entry into Chamel was a joyous one. The inhabitants of the Endril capital lined the cobbled streets to welcome Trelaine, a favorite visitor to the kingdom. And many among them were pleased to see Fanna. Their memories of him were fond and their hearts had grieved for him at Sigil's death. There was no resentment that Fanna had found love with the King of Elanen. Indeed, they felt it fitting that the High King would choose one who had held the heart of the young man related by blood to Karandal.
Trelaine and Fanna dismounted at the steps leading to the castle. King Artilane, King Etamere, and Grislen greeted them. "Well come," Artilan said extending his hand to the High King. After greeting Trelaine he turned to Fanna. "And you as well," he said. "It pleases me that you came. We have missed you."
"And I you, Majesty," Fanna responded as he bowed before the King. He barely had time to right himself when Grislen caught and hugged him.
"It pleases me also," the King's brother said. "You look well and have added some to your height these past four years."
Etamere greeted Trelaine. "I am grateful to you for coming," he said. "The barbarians threaten my kingdom daily."
"I promised your ancestors my protection and support," Trelaine said. "It is both my duty and my pleasure to keep that promise."
"Come then," Artilan urged. "Tonight we will have a feast in honor of your presence. Talk of the barbarians will wait for the morrow. I have a chamber prepared unless you would have another preference." He was not sure how Fanna would feel about staying in the castle.
Fanna relieved his fears by saying, "It would be poor homage to Sigil's memory should we not stay within the castle. My memories of him are of love and he lives in my heart."
Etamere, who had no personal knowledge of Sigil and Fanna, was surprised that the handsome youth would speak so openly of love for another in the presence of the man acknowledged as his lover now. Nor did Trelaine and Fanna expect any to understand that the love each had known before served to strengthen the bond between them.
The chamber prepared for them was more than suitable for a King but smaller than that in Aolane. Several small rooms and a large sleeping area lead from a central room. The furnishings were rich and comfortable. A small fired burned in each of several fireplaces. Trelaine noticed that Fanna seemed pleased in the warmth and once again considered giving in to his lover's request to move their apartment in Aolane to one smaller and easier to warm.
Dilby and Evander helped them remove their travel stained clothing and bathe. The two were just wrapping themselves in soft woolen robes when there was a knock on the door. Dilby opened the intricately carved door to admit the same small page who had led them to these chambers.
"Pardon, Lordship," the child said to Trelaine, "but His Majesty sent me to say the feasting will begin in two turns of the hourglass."
"Thank you, Pelanen," Trelaine said. "Please tell King Artilan that you have fulfilled your duty. Turning to Fanna he said, "And now, my love, we have two turnings of the glass before we attend tonight's celebration. I have an announcement to make this evening and would share the joy that it will give me with you now. It has been too long since I have felt the pleasure you give me."
Fanna blushed as Trelaine took his hand and led him to the sleeping room. He would not ask about the announcement but felt it must be of great importance if the King could not wait to share the moment. Thought of all else fled his mind at the touch of his love's lips on his own.
The great hall was filled when Trelaine and Fanna entered. Fanna still carried a subtle glow from the love he had known during the afternoon hours. He wore a rust colored tunic nearly the color of his hair, which fell in curls to his shoulders. His deep green eyes were vibrant with remembered passion.
Trelaine stood in contrast next to him. Long black hair reached past his waist, eyes nearly silver.
His deep blue tunic touched his fair complexion with a pale blue cast. The look of contentment on his face mirrored that of Fanna.
They were seated at the high table with Grislen and Kings Artilan and Etamere. Fanna ate quietly, enjoying the music provided while Grislen's daughter, Famira, gave him all the latest gossip of his old friends. He was mildly surprised when Trelaine stood and called his name.
"Yes, Majesty?" he asked.
"Stand beside me, Fanna," Trelaine commanded and Fanna obeyed.
"Endril has long been a favored place to me," the High King spoke. "It was here that Menfred brought my spirit into this world. It was also here that I first found love in this lifetime." He smiled as he spoke. "It is fitting that this is the place where I choose to formally name and acknowledge Fanna as my Consort, although my love for him took root and grew in Elanen."
Fanna blushed the color of his hair as cups of wine were raised high and the great dining room reverberated with echoes of, "Hear! Hear!" He did not see Dilby approach until Trelaine lifted a circlet of intricately carved gold from the purple pillow Dilby held.
"This is the symbol," Trelain said as he looked into Fanna's eyes, "of your position in the Court of Elanen, which you will help me rule, my dear Lord Fanna." With that he placed the circlet on Fanna's head and settled it among the auburn curls.
An even greater cheer followed the simple crowning and the men bowed while ladies curtsied their acknowledgment of Fanna's new position. The minstrels struck a lively tune and couples drifted into the large hall adjacent to the dining hall to dance. King Artilan and Grislen offered the new Lord their hands and pummeled his back in congratulations. Etamere, familiar with the legend of the Qell, tried to understand what had transpired, finally deciding that it was none of his affair and the lad was handsome and personable.
Fanna took advantage of a quiet moment as the court drifted off to the dancing. "I cannot be your Consort, My Lord," he said to Trelaine. "I am less than a commoner; I am but a peasant and one-time bread thief."
"There are no common men in Elanen," Trelaine replied. "And I am the High King, the Qell Lord. You cannot nay say me for so trivial a reason. In my heart, and the hearts of Elanen, you are the embodiment of a great lord. I have but acknowledged what all of Elanen has known these two years past. They already think of you as my consort and my heart."
Fanna was unaware that the inhabitants of the kingdom thought of him as anything but the new archivist. "Will your people not be offended that you have chosen Endril to name me, Trelaine?" he finally asked.
"This was a high affair of State, my love," Trelain said, "important only to lords and ladies. When the problem with the barbarians is resolved we shall return to Elanen and visit each village and shire. Our people know their importance and are more concerned with their own small celebrations of life than what happens at court so long as their lives are left in peace. A few days in each village, time spent looking at newborn lambs or foals, concern for their children, and the knowledge that we would choose to tell of your new station in person will please them more than news from a courier. They love us, Fanna, and that is the secret of the prosperity and happiness in Elanen."
"Then we must return that love to them," Fanna replied in understanding. "This afternoon you allowed me to share your joy in the announcement you planned to make. Will you allow me to share my joy with you tonight?"
Chapter Nine
The next several days were spent in a flurry of activity. Trelaine was busy with the other kings, Artilan and Etamere, planning their strategy for dealing with the newest barbarian horde that threatened the peace of the kingdoms.
Fanna filled his days with Grislen as he and Filadon were put through their paces learning the correct way to ride in battle He knew that Trelaine had no intention of letting him actually ride into battle and only set him to the training for his own peace of mind. But Fanna threw himself into his instructions with great zeal.
When he was not studying the art of warfare, Fanna was occupied with Chamel's archives. The new master had been an assistant when Fanna lived at the fortress castle. The old archivist had become so frail with age that the King had retired him to a comfortable cottage with servants to care for him, and Buford was now in charge of the considerable scrolls and records of Endril's history.
Buford accepted Fanna as his equal and asked endless questions about the changes Fanna had instituted during his tenure as the master archivist for the High King.
"Will you remain archivist now that you are Consort," Buford asked.
"His Majesty and I have not discussed it," Fanna replied, "but it is my desire to remain so. I must have some occupation of my own. There is still much to be done for Aolane receives records daily from many different places." He brushed his lengthening hair back from his face. "You wanted to ask me about the placement of the old records. At Aolane we have tried to set them in the order of the year they recount. For example, rather than putting all of the scrolls referring to the Renan Kings jumbled together in one place, you might consider starting with the scrolls of King Anen and putting them together since he was the first of the Renan line. Then those of his son, King Pasyl."
Involved in training and the archives, Fanna was so occupied that he noticed not the change in Trelaine's manner as the Kings made their plans for the coming campaign against the barbarians.
Trelaine tried to withhold as much as he could from his love. Deep in his heart he feared that Fanna would insist on joining in the battle. The thought of him being in danger sent a chill through Trelain such as he had not known since the day Karandal had been captured by Etamere's ancestor. He could not bear the thought of Fanna's body lying cold and bleeding on a battleground. Trelaine seldom felt portents of the future but this one came to him time after time. Still, the time came when he could no longer withhold the news that he would be leaving soon. After a quiet evening meal, Trelaine lifted Fanna in his arms and carried him to their bed.
"You have a mood about you this night," Fanna whispered as he felt his lover's hands roam across his body.
"Later, my love," Trelaine responded.
Later, much later, they lay sated in each other's arms. Fanna knew, from the power of the passion they had shared, that something was amiss. Easing himself into the King's arms and pulling long strands of the black hair across them like a blanket he asked, "Are you leaving tomorrow to face the barbarians?"
"You know?" Trelaine asked against the silky skin of Fanna's neck.
A small chuckle escaped Fanna. "You mounted me as if I were a woman any warrior wished to leave with child, as if you fear you will not return."
"You are no woman, my love," Trelaine replied, "and I will never beget an heir. But it is true. We leave tomorrow. You may come or not, as you will."
"What would you will?" Fanna asked.
"I could wish you to stay here and be safe. But I will not do so for I will put no boundaries on you. I can only ask that you will not join the warriors who go with us. Your life is too precious to me and you are not proficient in the arts of war."
Turning to face his love Fanna asked, "Is it permissible for Consort to visit King at the encampment? It might be that I receive a plea from one of your household staff in Aolane regarding an urgent situation."
Trelaine responded with a kiss. "If an urgent situation should arise, you should come to me at once.
But only in that regard."
"And not in the regard that your Consort might have need of you in a more personal matter?" Fanna asked, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight.
"Rascal you were and rascal you remain," Trelaine responded. "I thought you had learned not to be impertinent to your King."
"I need more lessons in courtly behavior," Fanna said as he slipped his arms around Trelaine's neck and pulled him closer for a lingering kiss.
Trelaine woke while it was still dark. He carefully eased himself away from Fanna, who was draped across the length of his body. Assuring himself that his lover still slept, Trelaine left the sleeping chamber. Dilby was waiting for him in the great sitting room, clothing ready for the day's journey.
Dilby helped the King to dress in warm leggings and a think tunic of soft wool. Dyed dark forest green, the tunic showed the paleness of complexion that marked Trelaine as Qell and was necessary to prevent chafing from the light armor her would wear.
Dressed in all but the armor, Trelaine returned to the sleeping chamber and gazed fondly on his love. Fanna had rolled to his back with one arm raised to the pillow beneath his head. Trelaine leaned down and ran his slender fingers along his lover's cheek and jaw. Leaning over, he tenderly kissed Fanna and whispered, "I will return to you." Turning, he strode out of the room. He was a King and a Qell Lord with duties to fulfill and promises to keep.
When the great door to the apartment closed and he could hear his own guards take their stations, Fanna rolled to one side and cried into his pillow as if his heart would break. When the rays of the rising sun filtered into the room and across the bed, Fanna rose and tended to his own immediate business. Entering the large sitting room he found that Evander had his breakfast ready.
"There be a pouch from Elanen," the servant said.
"His Majesty told Dilby you was to tend to it."
Fanna was momentarily taken aback until he remembered that he was to aid in ruling Elanen. "Very well," he said. "Bring me the pouch."
He glanced through the correspondence as he took his simple breakfast and cheese, fruit, and the thick oat porridge the castle cook remembered was one of his favorites. There was news from various lords that the orchards were in bloom with hope of an abundance of fruit and nuts if no late freeze occurred. The grasses were growing and the herd-beasts had been let loose on the land to graze. Lambing time was approaching and the people of Elanen hoped that the King would be able to return in time to gift the ewes with his magic for easy births.
The winter had been harsh enough that the sheep were possessed of thick coats and the summer shearing would produce enough wool to provide ample income for the carders and spinners. The High King had long ago proclaimed that everyone in Elanen reap the benefit of their own labor.
"Your bath be ready, M'Lord," Evander announced.
"Very well," Fanna responded. "Lay me clothing suitable for riding. I will take Filadon for a run before I tend to business."
Trelain had left him in charge of Elanen and he was his love's representative to the Endril Court. He intended to fulfill those duties in a manner that would please his King and lover. He wanted Trelaine to be proud of him if and when he returned. And if was a very great part of Fanna's thoughts for he was aware that the ancient Qell had died in battle.
To be continued.
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