Date: Tue, 23 Dec 2003 17:15:34 -0800 (PST)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dark Wishes Installment 40: Part 5 Chapter 13

This is the ongoing sequel to Dark Wishes, both
copyrighted under Nifty and International Common Law.

I would like to apologize to those who have been
following the series for having taken so long to
finish this latest chapter.  I've been working on
something which really doesn't fit into any of the
Nifty categories and it's occupied my every waking
moment for several weeks.  I promise to spend the next
three weeks concentrating entirely on this series.

Unspoken Wishes

M.C. Gordon

Part One: Markel

Chapter Thirteen

     Autumn began.  It crept silently upon Aolane and
the growing population woke one morning to crisp air
and the beauty of the distant trees ... a cacophony of
colors spread across the mountains that surrounded the
capital of Elanen.

     The days started early for there was much to be
done before winter's heavy hand covered the world with
snow and ice.  Masons and herders, tanners and
blacksmiths, weavers and milkmaids pursued their
occupations.

     Four young men, cousins who had traveled with
their families to Aolane, sat in the shade of a stand
of oak trees.  None were remarkable in appearance, of
average height and weight with soft gray eyes and
light brown hair.  They performed the duties they were
assigned and might spend a day working as harvesters
in the grain fields or laborers working to build
winter shelter.

     Their fathers, three brothers, had made the
decision to move their families to Aolane in the hope
that their daughters would find husbands and their
sons would find trades.  They were from a small
village at the extreme southwest border of Elanen, an
area that had become swampland through the centuries.
Illness from night-biters had decimated the population
in recent years and the area was one of extreme
poverty.

     The cousins were taking advantage of a rare
resting day granted by Iashain over Tynan's objection.
 "Winter will soon be here," Tynan had told his
brother Qell.  "Aolane is not prepared to support the
number now living here."

     "One day will not cause that great a set back,"
Iashain had replied.  "Everyone has worked long and
hard.  What harm can there be in one day of rest while
the weather is still mild?  Young couples can spend
the day courting, children can run in play.  Everyone
will work all the harder the next day."

     Tynan had argued that time was of the essence but
Iashain won the argument and Aolane was granted a day
of rest.

     The cousins, free of labor for a day, were busy
with a game they had created when they were still
young, all arms and legs ... not that they were old now
because they all hovered at being in their late teens.

     "I say we move to the high ground, forcing the
enemy to fight their way upward or retreat," Kolan
whispered to Jerent.  "Our bowmen will have the
advantage."

     Jerent agreed with his cousin, several months the
elder and absolutely brilliant as far as Jerent was
concerned.

     Artus quickly realized what his twin had planned
and huddled with Ashon, plotting counter moves.

     They were all surprised when a voice boomed, "You
will lose too many men on both sides," and Tynan
joined them.  "Artus, you must look at the high ground
as if attacking a castle.  The enemy bowmen will be
able to put your men down in a heavy barrage.  If the
opposing commander has planned well, they will have
sufficient arrows for many hours of battle, as I am
sure Kolan has realized.  Your fathers and sons will
die and leave their women behind to fend for
themselves."

     Kolan basked under the praise until Tynan said,
"Every fortress, every high ground, has a weak point.
For a castle it might be a drainage ditch or passage.
High ground can be flanked and attacked from the
rear."

     The four boys looked at the disposition of their
hand-carved warriors and pondered the many changes
they had made in their game through the years.  "What
might Trelaine have done?" Kolan asked.

     "Trelaine would have sent his enemy a warning,"
Tynan replied.  "Miralen would never have put his
warriors in this position."

     He considered the young men and what he knew
would have to be an inevitable decision.  "Have any of
you decided on a trade?"  When there was no reply he
asked, "Would you consider training to be warriors?"

     "Is there a threat of war?" Kolan asked.

     "Not at the present time," Tynan replied, "but of
what good would it be to send untrained men against a
force which might be trained?  The loss of life would
be great and beyond forgiveness.  And I have other
things in mind for well skilled warriors.  The roads
of Elanen are in need of repair.  We cannot control
fire or flood but can assist those affected by these
natural disasters.  Distant mountains rumble and spew
smoke.  Many lives were lost in the distant past when
mountains released the bowels of this world.  I would
save as many lives as possible."

     The boys spoke among themselves and Jerent
finally asked, "Will you speak with our fathers, Sire?
 We would gladly be among the first to serve as your
warriors."

     "I will do so on the morrow," Tynan agreed and
left the four in excited conversation.  He needed to
speak with his horse-master and determine the progress
made training the war-horse colts to saddle and rider.

 . . .

     "I will train them with sword, lance, and bow,"
Tynan told his companions that evening.  "The colts
are not yet yearlings and cannot be trained for war
for at least another year.  I will need to rely on the
Lippize to train the young warriors to ride."

     "Ask Yashidra to teach them how to treat wounds
and fevers," Iashain suggested.  "It may be that some
will be injured with no healer near to hand."

     "And teach them to read and write," Markel added.
 "Any account of the difficulties they endure may be
of use to others at another time."

     "Lord Trelaine had his archivists keep accurate
records of his years as High King, including accounts
of his battles against both man and nature," Efren
said.  "I have seen the scrolls and can read parts of
them."

     "An excellent idea," Iashain agreed.  "I will
form special studies for those who choose to train as
warriors."

 . . .

     The four boys, along with a dozen others Tynan
spoke with about training as warriors, stayed at their
assigned duties until the first freeze of the winter.
Thereafter their days were rigidly controlled.  They
were moved into a barrack area just completed and
encouraged to become close friends.  They spent their
mornings with Iashain, deep in study of written
language.  As their learning increased Iashain drew
forth the scrolls of Trelaine's battles and set the
young men to learning the theoretical strategies of
war.  The afternoons were warm enough, at first, for
basic training on riding and controlling a horse.
After an hour each day on horseback the boys were set
to work with the instruments of battle.  Iashain and
Yashidra had agreed to concentrate on basic healing
skills when the ground became too frozen for Tynan's
training.

     "This will not work," Tynan announced one
afternoon.  "The Lippize are too light and graceful
for the boys to learn how best to sit a saddle during
battle.  I fear I must wait until the war-horse colts
have reached their second year."

     "Can you do nothing?" Efren asked, shivering at
the cold.

     "Would that I could, beloved," Tynan said and
threw another log on the fireplace.  "The Lippize
cannot hold them with full armor and weaponry."

     "You could wish the colts to mature more
quickly," Efren offered.

     "And that I will not do," Tynan responded.
"None, least of all a Lord of Magic, has the right to
wish against nature.  Miralen did and it caused the
death of the first three Qell.  Trelain also tried and
it nearly cost him his life.  Fret not, my love, for I
will learn patience."

     Efren lay awake that night, long after Tynan had
caused his mind and body to sing, and wished that
there were horses his lord could use to train the new
warriors.  He was very careful to frame his thoughts
so that he did not wish against the natural order of
the world.

     The residents of Aolane were just beginning to
rise from their beds the next morning when a deep
rumbling sent them hurrying to their doorways to see
what was amiss.  The very ground they stood on
reverberated and a great sound built that was almost
unbearable.  Fearing the earth would open and swallow
them, the people huddled together in fear.

     They entered Aolane in a blur of strength and
beauty.  Their leader held his head high as he brought
them to a halt in front of the small cottage where the
Qell lived until the castle was rebuilt.  Rearing
high, he pawed the air and whistled.

     The Qell, along with Markel and Efren, opened
their door and were surprised at the sight of an
entire herd, numbering close to one hundred, of small
war-horses.  Smaller than Perinel's breed they were
still several times larger than the Lippize.  All were
a deep chestnut with black manes, tails, and legs.
The heavy hair covering their hooves was deep black.

     "Where did they come from?" Markel asked and
Iashain looked at Tynan.

     "This is not my doing," Tynan said, knowing full
well his brother thought he had summoned them.  "I
swear," he added when Iashain raised one eyebrow in
disbelief.

     Efren cautiously cleared his throat several times
and quietly said, "I wished that there were already
suitable horses.  I did not think I did a wrong thing
for I know that it is evil to go against nature."

     The Qell said nothing and Efren was afraid he had
indeed done something very wrong.  "I am sorry, my
lord," he said to Tynan as tears began to form in his
eyes.

     Fearing that his friend would once again try to
disappear for imagined disgrace, Markel put his right
arm across Efren's shoulders.  After a moment of deep
concentration he said, "The memories of my grandmother
tell me that these are the descendants of the
war-horses High King Trelaine bred for Fanna.  They
heard Efren's wish and knew the time had come for them
to return to Aolane.

     The lead stallion approached Markel, pawing
grooves in the ground with his huge hooves and
snorting in the cold air.  He stopped in front of the
young man and reached forward with his great head,
pushing against Markel.

     "His name is Eglan," Markel said, surprised that
the horse would reveal his name to any but a Qell.
"And he asks if the Qell forgot that his kind was bred
by an ancient lord to serve man in peace and war."

To be continued.

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