Date: Thu, 24 Apr 2003 19:07:16 -0700 (PDT)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dark Wishes Installment Four: Part One Chapters 10-12

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.

Dark Wishes

M.C. Gordon

Part One: Xoachin

Chapter Ten:

     Frayne set Nels to picking enough berries to ease
the worst of their hunger pangs.  They had fled from
Aolane with nothing but the clothing on their backs.
Both carried short daggers sheathed on their belts and
Frayne had his sword, but they had brought neither
food nor fresh clothing.

     Frayne turned the horse loose to forage for what
grasses could be found and set about to find soft,
fallen boughs for a makeshift mattress.  He removed
his heavy cloak and covered the boughs with it to ease
the prickling that would be caused by small twigs.

     Nels had removed his own cloak and used it to
carry the berries he had found.  They were few, for
spring was ending.  When he returned to their secluded
camp, he and Frayne sat on the ground to enjoy their
meager meal.

     "Count them out to us equally," Frayne said, "in
groups of five."

     "A province is destroyed and men are dead, yet
you think of lessons?" Nels asked in shock.

     "Would you go about as an ignorant lout just
because of what has happened?" Frayne asked, a bit
more harshly than he had intended.  His own nerves
were frayed and it was becoming a strain for him to
remain strong.  Yet he feared that if he did not, Nels
would give in to the terror that was lurking just
below the fabric of both their minds.  He was the
oldest and had been with the Qell longer than Nels.
He might not wish it, but he had to give the younger
man a sense of stability in a world suddenly turned
upside down.  More patiently he added, "Ilafrain is
proud of your progress.  He will be pleased to see
that you have continued with your education when we
return."

     Nels slowly began to count out the berries.  He
knew that Frayne was right.  Thinking about counting
occupied his mind so that he could not linger on the
horror of the day.

     They ate their small meal in silence.  As
darkness descended, Frayne beckoned Nels to the pallet
he had made and used Nels' cloak as a cover.  The two
lay lost in their own thoughts of what might happen
because of Xoachin's death and Miralen's great
vengeance.

     Nels finally turned to face Frayne and asked,
"How could they do it?  How could they just take so
many lives and destroy the land?"

     "The Qell are not like mortal men," Frayne
replied, choosing each word carefully.  "They love and
hate as men do.  They eat, sleep, and relieve
themselves.  But they do not have the same morality.
Their minds are on a different plane.  They are, to
us, flesh and blood.  But do not forget that they were
born of magic; are magic.  These three came into
existence with the world itself.  They took their
first breaths and had their first thoughts before any
other living creature, great or small.  The very winds
that blew life into the world gave them life before
any others.  The lives of men are but the blink of an
eye in the existence of our lovers.  Miralen formed a
bond with the Lippiz in the early days of men, a bond
that was broken by Bellard's father.  Bellard could
have healed the breach but he chose cruelty to his own
instead, especially his son.  It was understood from
the beginning that breaking the covenant would mean
the end of the Lippiz.  To the Qell, Bellard's murder
of Xoachin gave them liberty to cause their
destruction."

     Nels thought for a few moments on what Frayne
told him.  "I still do not think it was right," he
said.

     "Neither do I, boy," Frayne replied, "neither do
I."

     The two lay close together for comfort.  Frayne
gathered Nels to him and held him gently, patting the
young man on the shoulder.  "Try to sleep," he said.

     As Nels drew deep breaths and slipped into an
uneasy sleep, Frayne gently ran the fingers of his
right hand through the unruly black hair, twining it
around his fingers.  Nels sobbed softly for a while
and Frayne let his own tears slip silently down his
face.

     In the castle of Aolane the three Qell, exhausted
from the strength of their magic, collapsed and fell
unconscious to the floor.

     Far to the north, the wind blew high above the
still burning fire in Lippize.  It pulled the fire
into an ever-greater frenzy until the heat seemed to
reach to the stars themselves.  Wind and fire
collaborated and the wind began to churn the flames
until they turned like a whirlwind and a great tornado
was born that touched down and completed the
destruction the fire had started.

     The wind turned to blow from the north.  Soot and
ashes picked up by the tornado were thrown out and
taken south by the wind.  Frayne and Nels would wake
to find themselves covered by a soft carpeting of
soot.

     Sensing that the constraining magic was gone, the
fire turned toward the south.  High mountains
separated the destroyed land from the rich forests and
grain fields, but the mountains held tall trees to
feed it on its journey.  Grasping small flames, the
wind carried them from tree to tree, beginning the
trek toward the south and virgin feeding grounds.

     In Aolane, Resnaron rose groggily from the floor
sensing that something was wrong.  The magic should
have ended when the Qell's hands no longer touched.
But he could sense, feel, that the magic had gone
badly awry.  The strength of Miralen's pain had
unleashed a powerful force that threatened more than
Lippize.

     He tried to rouse Miralen and Ilafrain, to no
avail.  Resnaron, always the weakest and least
fearsome of the three, staggered to his feet.  He
managed to stumble outside and cast a glance toward
the north.  The fire in Lippize raged out of control
and edged itself toward Elanen.  If left unchecked, it
could spread outward even more and engulf all of the
ten kingdoms.  The magic that protected all but human
life was consigned only to Lippize and Resnaron knew
that the conflagration would take more who were
innocent of Miralen's wrath.

     He walked out into the courtyard and raised his
hands above his head.  Summoning all the strength of
magic that had been his since his conception, he cast
his thoughts toward the north, toward the fire, toward
the folly of death and destruction.  "I command you to
stop!" he roared.

     The fire resisted him and he thought he could
hear it laugh.

     "Then I will stop you," Resnaron said.  Summoning
the last of his strength Resnaron called upon another
magic.  Dark thunderclouds appeared over the province
of Lippize and the mountains between it and Elanen.
They built in size and power until they finally
unleashed themselves.

     Down and down it came, the heavy rain.  Like
discordant notes, the raindrops met the flames and
they wove themselves into a frenzied dance of life and
death.  The flames fought back but Resnaron stood
strong in his resolve.  Enough destruction had been
wrought and he would not see more.

     Feeling a power such as he had never known
before, he sent forth a seeking magic.  It found that
which he sought, Frayne.  His love was safe and caring
for Ilafrain's frightened lover.  He drew himself back
to his task as he felt the fire resist him.  His
thoughts sent his new found strength deeper into
Lippize, into the heart of the fire.  So intent was he
on his casting that he failed to notice Ilafrain join
him, adding magic to magic.

     Frayne stirred in his sleep as enormous raindrops
fell.  He pulled the cloak up to cover his face and
that of Nels.  In his heart he knew that their loves
had put an end to Miralen's web of destruction.

Chapter Eleven:

     Frayne and Nels made their way deeper into
Elanen's primeval forest through the next two days of
torrential rain.  Grass was sparse in the deep
undergrowth so they removed the saddle and bridle from
the horse and set him free, hoping that he would make
his way back to the paddock at Aolane.  With
everything around them wet there was no way they could
start a fire to cook meat and so ignored the animals
who eyed them warily.

     They finally located a small cave and sank down
against the walls, their sodden bodies aching from
weariness and hunger.  Nels found a few dry twigs and
Frayne retrieved a piece of flint from the small pouch
on his belt.  As Frayne blew the sparks into life,
Nels scoured the cave until he found enough dry debris
to feed their small fire for a few hours.

     "Someone else once used this cave for shelter,"
Nels said, still exploring, his voice echoing.  "Look
what I found."

     Frayne looked up to see Nels holding a tattered
blanket.  "Good," he replied.  "We can use it to keep
warm while our clothing dries."

     The two removed their drenched clothes and spread
them around the fire.  They made themselves as
comfortable as they could, wrapped themselves in the
blanket, and fell asleep.

     Frayne woke suddenly, sensing that the fire had
burned to embers because the air in the cave was cool.
 But Frayne was not cold because Nels' warm body was
pressed close against him.  He let his eyes stray to
the black hair that fanned out across his shoulder and
enjoyed the sensation of warmth.  He had long desired
Nels and considered asking Resnaron if he could take
Nels as a lover when Ilafrain tired of him.  He had
quickly put that consideration aside for he knew that
his lover would not approve.  He would not violate
Resnaron's feelings now.  Nor would he ruin the trust
that had grown between himself and Nels by making
foolish advances.  Nels was young and frightened and
needed him more now for moral support and guidance
than a momentary satisfaction of desire.

     He was content to lie with Nels close to him and
would have drifted back to sleep when a soft voice
asked, "Are you awake?"

     Frayne opened his eyes again.  "Yes, lad.  Are
you cold?"

     "I am warm enough," Nels replied.  Silence ensued
before Nels spoke again.  "How did they die?" he asked
as he moved to prop his cheekbone against the fist of
one bent arm.  "You said Resnaron showed you what
happened."

     Frayne sat, rested his right arm across a raised
knee, and passed his left hand through his matted
hair.  The blanket fell from his shoulders and his
bare chest felt the cool dampness of the cave.

     "They just stopped living," Frayne finally said.
"They were there, and then they were not."

     The impact of the vision Resnaron had given him
suddenly hit him full force.  His body began to
tremble and he let loose the tears he had held back
for days.  To his great surprise, Nels reached for him
and pulled him down, cradling him and pulling the worn
blanket over them again.  He let go all of the fear
and worry that he had held back since Xoachin's death.

     Nels was suddenly very concerned.  Frayne had
always seemed to be so in control of his thoughts and
emotions that the unexpected loss of that control
frightened him more than their mad dash through the
woods.  Nels had not seen the things Resnaron had
shown Frayne for he lacked that bond with Ilafrain.
He had regretted it in the past; now he was grateful.
He could not begin to imagine the horror of seeing an
entire race of people obliterated at the blink of an
eye.

     "It is my fault," Frayne whispered against Nels'
shoulder.  "They would not have all died but for my
actions."

     Nels sat up suddenly.  "What?" he asked.  "How
can you hold yourself the cause?"

     "I should have known what would happen to
Xoachin.  I knew of Bellard's cruelty and hatred for
the Qell.  I should have left him for Miralen to kill.
 That might have assuaged his anger."

     "I greatly doubt," Nels responded.  "You said
yourself that there was bad blood between them.
Xoachin's death was the final destruction of the
covenant in Miralen's eyes.  I only regret that
Resnaron and Ilafrain took part."

     "If they had not," Frayne said weakly, sorrow
having drained his strength, "the Lippiz would have
suffered.  Our loves were able to contain that part of
Miralen's hatred.  My greater fear now is that it will
turn men against them."

     They tried, but failed, to return to sleep.
Frayne rose and checked their clothing.  Finding it
dry, he handed Nels his clothes and put his own on as
he watched the young man dress.  Fully clothed, they
ventured outside of their shelter.  The rain had
finally stopped.

     "It must be over," Frayne ventured.

     "Does this mean we can return to Aolane?" Nels
asked.

     "No," Frayne replied.  "Miralen will still not
welcome us.  And it is important that we learn how the
people feel.  It might become essential to know those
who will remain loyal after this."

     "Can we find something to eat first?" Nels asked.

     Frayne laughed at the outrageous question.  "Of
course," he said.  They were back where they belonged
with Nels looking to him for guidance.  "I will see if
I can find something to eat.  You look about for wood
to make another fire."

     Frayne managed to down two conies.  When he
returned to the cave, he was greeted by the sight of a
warm fire.

     "My father was a woodcutter," Nels said in
explanation.  "I know old wood when I find it.  These
pieces needed only to lie in the sun for a while to
lose their moisture from the rain."

     "A rare pair we are," Frayne responded.  "You
were raised in a woodcutter's hut and I a farmer's
cottage.  Between us we should be able to eke out a
meager existence and travel unsuspected.""

     "Frayne?" Nels asked, and blushed when Frayne
looked at him from where he sat skinning the conies.
"If it were not for Ilafrain, I think I would be in
love with you."

Chapter Twelve:

     Frayne and Nels traveled as innocuously as
possible for the next two months.  They stopped at
small farms or villages passing themselves off as
itinerant workers.  Between the two of them they could
plow and seed a field or hunt, skin, and smoke small
game for the elderly widows they encountered.  In
return they received a decent meal, shelter for
sleeping, and an occasional change of clothing.

     When they entered a hamlet, Frayne dipped into
the handful of coins he had the presence of mind to
slip into his pouch when they fled Aolane.  The two
would order a frugal meal and cup of ale.  Keeping
their own conversation to prearranged subjects, they
would speak of the weather or possibility of finding a
day's work in return for lodging while Frayne listened
to the talk around him.

     "Went too far, they did," was a comment he heard
more than once.  "No call to kill all them people,"
was another.

     But he also heard, "Ach, the poor mite.  True `at
his Pa were a brute.  Gave him no call to run the
laddie through." Or, "Bellard were a bad `un.  Shoulda
been kilt when he were borned."

     The most shocking comment Frayne heard was,
"Serves them Lippiz right.  Snotty folk they was,
thinkin' they was too good to marry with common folk
like us.  Purity, they called it.  Cock's crap!
Inbreeding led to that prissy boy what got himself
kilt.  Best them boy loving kings be tended to 'afore
they steal another man's son and forces him to do
things w'at men aught not do."

     After one such evening, when they were on their
way again and had made another cold camp, Nels spat
and turned to Frayne.  "How is it possible that such
people exist?" he asked.  "We do them no harm and yet
they hate who we are."

     "There have always been such," Frayne told him.
"When men had respect for the Qell they dared not
express such thoughts.  Miralen has unleashed more
than anger against Bellard.  He has watered the garden
that grows the seeds of hate and intolerance."

     He motioned for Nels to sleep.  "I think it wise
if I keep guard for a while," he said.  "I dislike the
mood of this province.  We leave on the morrow to
return to Aolane.  Resnaron must hear the mood of the
people.  I fear they are turning against our lords,
Nels."

 . . .

     The hooves of their horses echoed eerily against
the cobbled stones of the courtyard as the Qell
entered the place that had once been the center of
Lippize, the fortress of the Dukedom.  Destruction
showed its face all about, but the castle was
untouched.

     Miralen wearily dismounted and looked around.
His anger expunged, he truly saw the extent of his
revenge.  Soot from fire lay all about, kicked up by
the horses' great feet.  A dreadful silence had
descended for even the birds avoided the now ravaged
province.

     "Where is he?" Miralen asked of Resnaron.
"Frayne called to you.  You must have seen where the
body of my love lies."

     "Follow me," Resnaron replied as the entered the
castle and walked toward Bellard's study.  Their
footsteps echoed on the stone corridors and
staircases.

     Miralen entered the room indicated by Resnaron.
Bellard's headless body lay against one wall, the head
some great distance from it -- as if the body had been
kicked aside.  Lying on the great table in the center
of the room, covered by the herald of a white steed
against a background of blue, was what remained of
Xoachin.

     Miralen crossed the room and knelt reverently
beside the table.  He reached up and touched the arm
that had fallen to one side.  "We will bury him where
he belongs," Miralen said to his brother kings, "in
the mausoleum that houses the first of his kind and
those faithful who followed."

     "And Bellard?" Ilafrain asked.  "What of him."

     Miralen turned an eye toward the rotting corpse.
"Let him lie where he is.  I am grateful to the man
who tended my love with such reverence."

     "I suspect that it would have been Huton, Captain
of the Guard," Ilafrain replied.  "He was most fond of
Xoachin.  In your haste for judgment, brother lord,
his life was also taken."

     Miralen spun around to face Ilafrain.  "Speak not
to me in such a manner!" he shouted.  "The covenant
was broken!  It was my right to end their existence."

     "That much is true," Resonaron replied.  "But you
would have caused pain to even the youngest babe.
Your revenge was uncalled for!"

     "Stop, both of you," Ilafrain interjected.  "The
Lippiz no longer exist.  Xoachin is gone and nothing
will bring him back.  Let us do what we intended and
place his body with his ancestors.  He deserves
respect and not petty bickering over what should or
should not have been done.  I greatly fear that mortal
men will remember what happened here and strive to
take vengeance against us.  We must treat Xoachin
kindly so that others might take note of it.  Else,
brothers, we will fall ourselves."

     Contriving a litter, the three carried Xoachin to
a stone building set a distance from the great house.
Once inside, they passed intricately carved statues
and the newest of great stone coffins.  Miralen led
them down narrow and winding stairs until they reached
the oldest part of the mausoleum.  In the center of
the room they finally entered stood two crypts.
Miralen quickly crossed to one and, using all of his
strength, pushed the stone top aside.

     "That is where the first lies," Miralen said
indicating the other crypt.  "This one was left empty
as a symbol to all of the Lippiz.  It was for the
death of the covenant.  This is where my beloved shall
lie."

     Ilafrain and Resnaron carefully placed Xoachin in
his final resting place and Miralen slid the giant
slab back to seal the coffin.  He buried his face in
one hand and began to cry.  Dry heaving shook his
shoulders until he was able to vocalize great sobs
filled with tremendous sorrow and pain.

     His brother kings led him from the mausoleum and
Resnaron turned to face the building.  "The fire
burned away the oak doors," he said.  "They should be
replaced."

     "No," Miralen replied.  "We will seal it with
such a magic that none but one of us will ever be able
to open it from now until the end of time."  Grasping
his companions by their hands, he directed their gaze
toward the manor castle.

     It began with a rumbling sound deep within the
earth; a sound that spread upward until it seemed to
erupt from the very bowels of some unknown hell.  The
horses grew skittish and began to tramp their huge
hooves against the ground where they stood tethered.
Miralen tightened his grip on Resnaron's and
Ilafrain's hands and stared unceasingly at the castle.

     "Die," he said in a voice filled with pain.  "And
take that hated body with you."

     There was a sudden silence just before the walls
of the great castle began to collapse upon themselves.
 In a manner of moments, the great building lay in
rubble.

     "It is completed," Miralen said.  "Nothing in
Lippize remains intact but the place where my love
lies.  This land is cursed from now until the end of
time."

     "No," Ilafrain said as Miralen relaxed his grip
on their hands.  "This land is now an eternal shrine
to the memory of Xoachin and reminder of what cruelty
and revenge can cause.  And now, my dear friend, it is
time for us to return to Aolane."


To be continued.

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