Date: Fri, 20 Jun 2003 00:04:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: Corrinne S <mdaigle@prodigy.net>
Subject: Dark Wishes Installment 21: Part 4 Chapters 4-6

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

Chapter Four

     The king's party arrived in Aolane long after the
sun had set.  All were tired and hungry.  Devlin had
spent the final league upon Annwyn.  Hours of
alternating between walking and riding had left Devlin
spent and he leaned back in the saddle against the
sturdy strength of Sondred.

     "By your leave, Majesty," Sondred said to
Trelaine as they entered the southern gate of the
castle courtyard, "I will take this lad home with me
for tonight.  He will want a bit of my Belen's cooking
and a homey surrounding.  The archive is closed until
all the lads return from their spring duties at home."

     Trelaine nodded his consent and turned his guard
toward the castle itself.  Sondred nudged Annwyn with
his knees and headed for the small cottage he shared
with his wife of two years.

     "Wake, boy," he said when they came to a stop by
the small patch of garden next the house.  "Time to
clean up and eat."

     Devlin murmured, "Mmfff," not waking.

     Sondred chuckled to himself and leaned the boy
forward to rest against the neck of giant Annwyn.  He
carefully dismounted, then reached up and grasped
Devlin by one arm.  Gently, so that the youth would
not fall, Sondred pulled him from the great steed.
The movement woke Devlin in time for him to set his
feet firmly on the ground.

     "Where are we?" he asked.  "Are we to Aolane
yet?"

     "Aye, boy, that we are," Sondred replied.  "Now
put on your finest manners.  We both look enough a
sight to frighten my poor lady.  A good scrubbing and
tasty meal is what we need to make us proper company
for her gentle nature."

     Belen had heard them and opened the door to greet
her husband.  As he reached the door she lifted
herself to her toes to welcome Sondred with a hug and
kiss, for she was of little height and the king's
guardsman towered over her.

     "Not like this, lass," Devlin heard him say.  "I
am mud spattered and travel stained.  I prefer your
face as it is now and not smudged with dirt from my
cloak or tunic."  Then he smiled at her and said in a
teasing voice, "Woman of the house, I have brought you
a bedraggled guest.  This pup was rescued from a
terrible storm by none other than myself.  It needs to
be bathed and fed."

     Belen, long accustomed to her love's way,
responded, "By you?  All by yourself?  And was his
majesty's guard struck down by lightning that there
was none but you to save him?"

     "Aye, and therein lies the truth," he answered.

     She burst into merry laughter.  "Come inside, you
great oaf," she said, "and bring the pup with you
before the rain begins again."

     "Thank you, Mistress," Devlin said.

      "A pup that speaks?" she queried.  "I think your
pup is a young man, Sondred, and the lightning struck
at you."

     Devlin, now mostly awake, entered the cottage and
was greeted by the smell of something good from the
black kettle that hung on a hook above the small fire
in the fireplace.  And from nowhere, his stomach had
the ill manners to growl and churn itself.

     "You will not sit at my table covered as you are
by grime," Belen told both of the men.  "I have had
the servants keep the bath warm.  Go; cleanse
yourselves."

     Devlin followed Sondred, obedient to Belen's
demand, to a small building in back of the cottage.
Several female servants began to remove their grimed
clothing.  Devlin, unaccustomed to women being present
when he was nude, blushed furiously and immersed
himself in the large tub of water as quickly as he
could.  And instantly regretted it for the water was
hot.  He gritted his teeth and steeled his muscles
against the heat, unwilling to rise.

     Sondred held back the laugh that threatened to
overcome him.  "Such is the way of life at Aolane,
boy.  Even the King has female servants who aid him at
his bath.  You will find that much here is not as it
is at your home.  And you will soon learn that the
women have a way with their hands that is almost magic
unto itself.  Do you see the one who appears to be an
old crone?  Her name is Mercatroid and she will work
such wonders on your back and shoulders with her
ancient hands that you will feel as if you have been
carried to a plane of existence beyond anything you
have ever known before."

     Devlin leaned forward in the tub and the old
woman lathered his back with soap.  "Ye be a tense
one," she said as her gnarled fingers began to work
the muscles in his neck.

     He would have fallen face first into the water
had his head not been propped against his knees.  The
rhythm of those ancient hands across his shoulders and
back soothed his aching muscles, lulling him once more
to drowse off.

     He was startled awake by Sondred's hand shaking
his shoulder.  "Up now, lad," Sondred said.  My own
body smells of sweat and horse and the tub is too
small for both of us."

     Devlin reluctantly left the comfort of the now
warm water.  He blushed again as the women began to
dry him, and exhaled a sigh of relief when one of them
handed him a towel to dry that part of himself he
preferred a woman not touch.

     "Here be," Mercatroid said, handing him a long
gray gown of brushed wool.  "My grandson be about your
size.  This should fit 'e right well enough."

     He was very grateful to her as she slipped the
gown over his head.  Settling the folds of the gown in
place he turned to her.  "My thanks to you, old
grandmother," he said calling her the fond name all of
Caern Arvis used for women whose childbearing years
had passed.  "Your grandson will not mind?"

     "No," she replied.  "Gelemar be off with his
father about the king's business.  When 'e returns and
sees what a beauty ye be he'll be right pleased that I
gifted ye with this."

     She bade him sit on a stool and took a brush to
his tawny locks.  "My lady needs to summon the barber
tomorrow," she said as she attempted to bring the
drying curls under control.  "T' wild wheat one 'e
head needs taming a bit."

     She gave up the futile effort and went to stand
in front of Devlin.  Cupping his chin with one hand,
she looked deep into his eyes.  "Take care, pretty,
that 'e find a strong'n as your protector.  I sees
fights to come because of 'e."

     Devlin, already disturbed by her straightforward
gaze, felt dread at her words.  "I have no wish to
start fights, Grandmother," he said.

     "And 'e will not," she responded.  "Nay, golden
one, 'twill be others who fights twixt 'emselves over
'e."

     "What did she mean?" Devlin asked Sondred as they
walked back to the cottage.  "Why should anyone fight
over me?  Is it because I am an outsider?"

     Sondred stopped dead in his tracks and looked
down at the boy's face, barely visible in the soft
moonlight.  "Nay, boy," he answered.  "Outsiders are
always welcome here.  They will fight over you, for
you, because you are a handsome lad with your wits
about you.  Heed old Mercatroid.  Win a strong lord
who will cherish and protect you."

     "Could you not be my protector?" Devlin asked.

     "By all that might be holy!" Sondred exclaimed.
"Someone other than I must have a long talk with you.
But not tonight.  Tonight we will eat a good meal,
drink a good ale, and you must tell Belen about the
butterflies.  I will broach the subject of your ...
education ... with the King on the morrow."

Chapter Five

     "Gelemar," Trelaine said to the dark, ruddy man,
"stay a moment."

     "Of course, Majesty," Gelemar responded.  He and
his father had just given the king their account of
the spring lambing in the nearest provinces of Elanen.
 Twelant raised an eyebrow at his son, wondering what
had merited him a private audience with the king.
Gelemar looked toward his father and shrugged his
shoulders.

     "By your leave, Sire," Twelant said as he bowed
and turned to leave.

     "Majesty," Gelemar said when his father had left,
"how may I serve you?"

     "We have a new arrival for the archive," Trelaine
said.  "He seems to be an intelligent lad, gentle of
spirit and pleasing of appearance."  The king's mind
seemed to wander for a moment and Gelemar stood
quietly, waiting for his lord.

     "How are things with Frit and yourself?" Trelaine
suddenly asked.

     "As they have been these ten years past, My
Lord," Gelemar replied.  "Our love remains firm.  May
I ask why you ask?"

     Trelaine rubbed at his forehead.  "This new lad,
he needs someone to guide him for a time.  Young
Sondred approached me about him.  It appears that your
grandmother told the lad to seek a protector and he
requested that of Sondred."

     "Sondred?" Gelemar asked in astonishment.

     "The lad is from Caern Arvis," Trelaine replied.
"He has no knowledge of life at Aolane.  He was
unaware of what he requested.  How old was Frit when
you first took an interest in him?" he asked.

     "He had sixteen years, Sire," Gelemar responded.
"I held to your law and did not approach him about my
interest until he attained adulthood."

     "I know," Trelaine said.  "The reason I asked is
because you dealt well with a young man.  And this new
lad needs someone to speak with him and explain how
and why things are here.  He has attained his
seventeenth year.  I would like you to be a surrogate
father to him.  Would Frit mind?"

     "Why me, Majesty?" Gelemar asked.

     "Because I cannot!" Trelaine responded, his
despair evident.  "This lad tugs at strings in my
heart that I wish to remain untouched."

     Gelemar, who had been in the king's service since
his fifteenth birthday, bowed and said, "My Lord, I
have served you for five and twenty years.  I will do
my best to guide the lad.  I believe Frit will
understand so long as he is also allowed to assist me.
 I rather think he will be amused at the idea of the
two of us having a child, no matter how nearly grown."

     "The boy is currently lodging with Sondred and
Belen.  He will remain with them until the archives
are opened again.  It seems he has acquired a fondness
for them regardless of the fact that Sondred will
never show more than a brotherly interest in him.  In
fact, Sondred tells me that the lad seems to believe
he is entirely alone in the world."

     "Would it not be best if he were to stay with us,
Majesty?"  Gelemar asked.

     "Neither of you have yet seen him," Trelaine
replied.  "I trust you but would not put undue
temptation in your way."

 . . . . .

     "Oh, I see," Devlin said as Gelemar sat patiently
explaining things to him.  He blushed furiously at the
realization of what he had been asking of Sondred.  "I
did not know that a protector was a ... a ..."

     "A lover," Gelemar repeated.  "My grandmother
should have been more clear in her advice.  I doubt
that you caused Sondred much concern.  He was more
amused by your remark than upset.  And he understands
that you have lived in a remote area with no contact
with others of our nature.  Your mistake is
understandable."

     He sat quietly, watching Devlin consider their
conversation.  The king had been right.  The boy was
one of exceptional beauty.  Not yet fully grown, he
held the promise of being tall and well proportioned.
It would be a great temptation to educate the boy in
more than courtly manners and protocol.  He watched as
Devlin folded his hands and rested his chin on his
thumbs.  Those hands, he thought, will never hold a
sword or control the reins of a giant warhorse.  They
were slender, almost fragile in appearance.  Gelemar
thought he saw before him one who would make a fine
scholar - a historian, perhaps, or mathematician.

     "Devlin," he said somberly, "beware of some men.
The king would be greatly angered if you should fall
prey to some of them.  You are an innocent here and
the world is full of men who would seduce you to their
own ends.  I will put the word about that Sondred and
I are your guardians.  That will offer you some
protection until you have learned to find your own
way.  Promise me one thing."

     Devlin understood the seriousness of Gelemar's
remarks and was suddenly not sure that he should have
come to Aolane at all.  "I will promise whatever you
ask," he replied.

    "You will tell myself or Sondred should any man,
any man at all, make advances toward you.  His
majesty's law forbids such contact with a child, even
between children, male or female.  The penalty is
death but some will take that risk.  The King has
taken an interest in your welfare and charged Sondred,
Frit, and myself to keep you safe."

     "I swear that I will do as you ask," Devlin said.

     "Good!" Gelemar replied, smacking his hands
against his thighs.  "Now that this talk is done,
come.  You must meet Frit and we will give you a tour
of the castle and grounds.  You will quickly learn
where things are kept any why, and who performs
certain duties and why if you see for yourself."


     Trelaine was astonished when introduced to Frit.
The man was taller than Gelemar, but lean to the point
of being skinny, a contrast to Gelemar's husky build.
Curious gray eyes observed him from a face of sharp
angles.  Long hair in shades of red and blonde was
pulled back from his face and bound by a scarf at the
base of his neck.  Even bound as it was, the hair
reached Frit's waist and Devlin wondered just how long
it would be if set free.

     "Oh, he is lovely," Frit said when they were
introduced.  The eyes sparkled in mischief.
"Charmed," he said as he lifted Devlin's hand and
kissed it.

    "Behave yourself," Gelemar growled.  "You know the
law.  No flirting."

     "Flirt?" Frit responded, one hand pressed to his
breast in a dramatic gesture.  "I am crushed that you
even make such a suggestion.  I am but being polite.
And he is most pleasing to behold."

     Devlin knew not what to think of Gelemar's lover.
 He had never before seen a man whose hands fluttered
in such a manner, almost feminine.  And while Frit's
breeches were the same dark wool worn by other men,
his tunic was a shockingly bright shade of yellow with
small jewels intricately embroidered in the arms.  And
the looks of complete admiration Frit sent him gave
Devlin a feeling that he could not identify.  Nor was
he convinced that he wanted to, sensing that it had
something to do with the king's laws and death
penalties.

     "Now, my love," Frit said to Gelemar, "we will
take our shortly adopted child  through the castle.
What would you like to see first, the dungeons?  No,
not this time.  Perhaps the kitchen, or the great
dining hall?"

     "I apologize," Gelemar said to Devlin as Frit
counted off the rooms most worth discovery.  "I should
have warned you about Frit but I am accustomed to his
peculiarities; they are part of the reason I love him
so.  There are not many  like him.  He has an openness
and dramatic flair that marks him as a special
person."

     "Is he always like this?" Devlin asked as Frit
continued, "the storage attic?"

     "Always!" Gelemar exclaimed, love shining in his
eyes.

     "I was afraid he was going to kiss more than my
hand," Devlin whispered.

     "He will not," Gelemar said.  "He has great
enthusiasm but knows when to stop."

     "I know!" Frit suddenly burst out.  "The
apartments used by lords and ladies, or lords and
lords, when they are in residence." Turning to Devlin,
he said in a breathless voice, "you would not believe
the things one sees there.  Lord Groman, for example,
has drawings of women who are unclothed."

     Devlin nearly laughed when he saw Frit visibly
shudder at the thought of nude women.

     "And just how would you know?" Gelemar asked.

     "I am, after all, a healer," Frit responded,
raising his chin and rolling his eyes.

     "You tend their pets!" Gelemar said.

     "Actually," Devlin said softly, "I would like to
start with the kitchen."

 . . . . .

     "Dear My Lady," Devlin sobbed to Belen one
evening a week later, "I do not know what to do.  I
thought Sondred would be here."

     Belen soothed the boy as best she could and said,
"he is with the king.  What happened?"

     "A man accosted me on my way across the courtyard
just now," he managed to say between deep breaths.
"He touched me ... on my ... where I ...  Oh,
Mistress!  He slammed me against a wall and forced his
lips on mine!  Gelemar sternly told me that I was to
let him or Sondred know if a thing like this
happened."

     "And you were closer to here?" Belen asked.

     "Yes, Mistress," he managed.

     Belen could tell that the boy was suffering from
great fright and called to the household servants.
"Tallen, Gustar, Pollo, you three stay with Devlin.
Delt and Ivor, come with me."

     She quickly donned a cloak and, followed by the
largest of her servants, set a course toward the
cottage where Gelemar lived.

     "I do not think he knows who accosted him," Belen
said to Gelemar as she explained what had transpired.
"He gave me what description he could, poor mite, he
was so upset.  Sondred is on guard at the castle
tonight.  I thought it best to leave Devlin with my
own household servants and come to you myself."

     "And put yourself in danger," Gelemar said.  "I
thank you for coming on Devlin's behalf.  Give me a
moment to dress and I will follow you back to your
cottage, adding my own guard to yours.  Gregre, a cup
of wine for the lady," he added.

     His household steward responded quickly and Belen
found a cup of warm, mulled wine pressed into her
hands.

     She sipped slowly of the soothing brew and
glanced to where Gelemar stood talking with Frit.  She
had first been startled at the appearance of Gelemar's
lover.  Accustomed to seeing him around and about the
court in his bright colors with his hair pulled away
from his face, she was unprepared for the sight of him
with hair unbound, cascading down his back and across
his shoulders.  His gown of deep blue was open to his
waist, exposing what Belen could only describe as a
mass of golden fur on his chest.  She averted her
eyes, but not before she caught a glimpse of narrow
thighs beneath the belt of the gown, tapering down to
slender ankles and well turned feet.

Chapter Six

     Recognizing Belen's distress, for the dear lady
had most probably seen no man's body but her
husband's, Frit quickly drew his gown closed.  "Good
lady," he said, "please sit here by the fire.  The
night is damp and you must take the greatest care for
yourself.  It was not wise for you to come to Gelemar
yourself.  One of your guards could have carried a
message for you.  Your concern now should be for your
child."

     Belen gasped in disbelief as she moved toward the
fireplace and the large chair Frit offered.  "How did
you know?" she asked for Mergatroid had only confirmed
her suspicions that same morning.

     "Gelemar believes that I only tend to the castle
cats and dogs," he responded as he took her hand and
seated her.  "But I am studying with the Master
Healer.  Many women in Aolane are more at ease with me
than other men," Frit replied, his usually jaunty air
replaced by one of seriousness.  "I can touch a
bruised ankle or stitch a cut thigh without causing
discomfort to a lady.  And I am learning to care for
those who are with child.  Master Riflin believes that
too many die during childbirth and care must be taken
to ensure the health of both mother and child."

     Frit stood as Gelemar returned to the room.  His
soft grey eyes sought Belen's and he saw in them her
promise to keep his secret safe in her heart until he
was ready to reveal it himself.  "I will beg a pup for
you from the Master of Hounds," Gelemar heard him say
to their guest.  "One of the bitches will give birth
to her litter any day now.  The lineage is excellent.
You will look magnificent striding across the
courtyard with one of the pups at your heels."

     "My guard is waiting and I am ready to escort you
home," Gelemar said.  "I wish to speak with Devlin.
The man who did this must be brought before the king
for justice."

     Frit took Belen's hand and aided her to stand.
He gently kissed the palm of her hand before placing
it against his heart.  "Take care," he said to her.
"Sondred is my friend.  His wife and future are
greatly valued."

     "What was that all about?" Gelemar would ask him
hours later as he eased himself into their bed.

     "She fosters the lad," Frit would reply.  "And
she speaks to me of cloth and jewels - those things
which bore you."

 . . . . .


     Devlin was sitting on the floor in front of the
cottage's small hearth when Gelemar and Belen arrived.
 Mergatroid sat on a small stool behind him, her
gnarled fingers seeking out points of tension in his
back, neck, and shoulders.

     Pollo helped the old woman to rise as Gelemar
approached.  "He bathed," she said.  "T' maids
scrubbed three times afore 'e felt clean."

     Gelemar looked down at Devlin.  "Boy?" he asked,
"are you well?"  Devlin's face as he looked up was
more than answer to the question.

     "Simple bruises," Mergatroid said.  "I put 'im a
salve of healing herbs."

     "Many thanks to you, Grandmother," Gelemar said,
shaking his head in sadness.  Devlin's face was
bruised and his bottom lip bore a cut.

     " 'e's had a fearsome fright," she said.  "There
be no more harm done to his body than ye see.
Gently," she added, "t' lad will not bear scolding."

     "I will be gentle," Gelemar reassured her.  "The
King has named me his surrogate father.  'Twas not his
fault that he was accosted.  Take your lady up to her
room and see that she goes to her bed."

     Assured that the women were leaving, Gelemar
helped Devlin to a chair and waited quietly while the
boy gained his composure.  Devlin's eyes were puffed
from crying and there was bruising on his arms that
Gelemar had not seen earlier.

     "Can you tell me what happened?" Gelemar asked
gently.  "It is best to recount the affair while the
memory is fresh.  Tomorrow you may forget an important
detail.  This man must be apprehended quickly, before
he preys upon another.  The king will not tolerate
this breach of his law."

     Devlin stared into the hearth fire.  "He was tall
and heavy," he said as he watched the flames flicker.
"He had short dark hair and a bearded face.  There was
a scar on his face from his forehead, across his left
eye, and down to the right side of his mouth.  His
breath smelled of rotting teeth and he was filthy."

     "He does not sound familiar," Gelemar said.
"Anything else?"

     "He slammed me against the wall of a building and
held me with one arm.  With his other hand he ..."

     "Mergatroid assures me that he did not penetrate
you.  Did he do anything more than bruise you and
force his kisses upon you?"

     "No," Devlin said.  And then he burst into
uncontrollable tears.

     Gelemar gathered the hysterical young man into
his arms and held him tightly, rubbing his hands down
the boy's back to soothe and comfort him.  It was this
sight that greeted Sondred when he suddenly burst
through the door.

     "My grandmother sent a messenger to the castle
that I was needed!" he exclaimed.  "What in great
bloody hell is going on!?"  He was immediately
surprised and thrown off balance as Devlin thrust
himself into his arms weeping beyond control.

     "The boy barely escaped rape this evening,"
Gelemar explained.  "Your good lady summoned me."
Gelemar was not about to tell Sondred that Belen had
gone to his home to do the summoning herself.  If she
wished her husband to know then she would do the
telling.  "My cottage is closer than the castle," he
added, "and I told Devlin to let one of us know if
such a thing might happen."

     "Who has done such a thing, here in Aolane,
against the king's law?" Sondred asked, incredulous at
the words he had heard.

     "By the description Devlin was able to give me,
none who live here," Gelemar replied.  "Someone new,
or passing through.  I will give Frit the description
and have him sketch the face.  Devlin can see tomorrow
if the rendering is accurate.  He should be more
easily apprehended if he can be identified."

     They were interrupted by Sondred's grandmother as
Mergatroid descended the stairs and crossed to where
they stood near the hearth.  " T' lad needs to rest,"
she said.  "I have a sleeping draught for 'im.  T'
servants laid me a pallet next 'is bed.  I will know
if 'e wakes and needs tending.  Sondred, good lad ye
be, ask 'is Majesty to cast magic on this house
tonight."

     With that, the old woman gathered Devlin to her
and led him to his bed.  Sondred knew his grandmother
well.  Of all the old women in the kingdom who claimed
to deal in magic and sight, he believed she had some
small gift for she was a descendant of Loricia, a
woman of Caern Arvis.