Date: Sat, 20 Sep 2003 22:45:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dark Wishes Instalment 30: Part 5 Chapter 3

This is a work of fiction, of magic and kings, love
and war.  It's the sequel to `Dark Wishes', previously
copyrighted under Nifty and the unopened copy of that
manuscript in my desk drawer now recognized by the
U.S. Postal Service and International Common Law.
`Dark Wishes' took three years to write and edit.
Bear with me now as this story hasn't been edited at
all and I'm posting it as it's written.

Unspoken Wishes

M.C. Gordon

Part One: Markel

Chapter Three

     Tynan and Markel traveled by foot for three weeks
past ruined fields and forests, stopping for shelter
from the weather in caves or the rubble of what had
once been a castle or other building made of stone.
The Qell longed for a meal of cooked meat and
vegetables, tiring of the constant grain porridge
Markel prepared each evening.  But they had seen few
animals and Tynan dared not risk reducing the wildlife
population until a proper accounting could be made of
any of the once domestic beasts of man.

     "Is it the approach of winter which causes the
fields to be barren?" he asked his companion one
evening after another bowl of damnable mush.

     "The grandmothers believe that the people finally
had to eat the seed corn," Markel answered.  "The
crops have been smaller each year and starvation is a
constant worry."

     "Then I must ascertain where any seed may still
exist for planting next spring.  The people of Elanen
must have food."

     Day after dreary day they traveled, running
across barren land, the Qell Lord's long black hair
flying loose around him.  They saw few people and the
lord of magic felt despair deep within his heart.  All
that those before him had accomplished had come to
naught.

     Near the end of the fourth week Tynan suddenly
stopped and held out his hand to signal Markel to do
the same.  He faced into the wind and sensed something
important beyond the next rise.  Dropping close to the
ground, he crept silently to the top of the rise.  In
the valley below was a wild herd of magnificent
horses.

     Markel gasped when he saw the animals, unable to
believe their beauty and majesty.  Breath streamed
from their nostrils in the cold air.  Shaggy winter
coats covered their bodies.  Massive hooves pawed the
ground, kicking up tufts of earth.  These were the
descendents of the war-horses of old.  The wind
shifted and the stallion, blacker than ever any night
could ever be, raised his head and sniffed the air,
for giant cats had made their way into the kingdoms
and the great black knew their danger to his harem.

     Tynan suddenly stood and made his presence known.
 The giant stallion's eyes were blazing red, his ears
pulled back as he studied the sudden appearance.
Tynan placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

     The stallion rose on his back legs, pawing the
air around him.  He called to the mares, his message
known only to them, and ran like the wind toward a
path he knew that would carry him to the top of the
rise and the beckoning figure.  A chestnut mare with
white markings followed him.

     Markel stood, not sure if he should be in shock
or fear, as the two huge animals docilely approached.
He had heard legends of the beasts but had never seen
one; actually doubted that they had ever existed.  Yet
here, before him, were two while there were others in
the valley below.

     Tynan approached the giant stallion, his
shoulders not reaching the top of the withers, and the
Qell was taller than any man.  He spoke softly for
several moments before he turned to Markel and said,
"They have agreed to aid us in our journey.  This is
Perinel and his mate is Shonnera.  Miralen and
Trelaine knew their distant ancestors."

     Markel looked at the mare who turned her head to
gaze at him with gentle brown eyes.  He reached out
and tentatively patted her shoulder, standing on the
tip of his toes to do so for she was of great height
next to him.  "How will I mount her?" he asked,
assured by her look that she would not object to the
weight of his body on her back.

     Tynan looped his fingers together and indicated
that Markel should place his left foot in his hands.
"Grasp her mane carefully as I lift you," he said.

     Markel was momentarily disoriented when he found
himself sitting high above the ground on Shonnera's
back.  Her muscles twitched beneath his legs and,
finding himself sitting on a legendary beast, he was
awed.

     His awe was increased as he saw Tynan run toward
Perinel's rear, jump and fling himself onto the giant
animal's back.

     "Use your knees to grasp," Tynan shouted to him,
"and cling to her mane."

     The mare surprised Markel in accepting him and
the two sped off behind the Qell Lord and the giant
black he rode.

 . . .

     "May I ask a question of you?" Markel asked Tynan
several days later as they rode in easy gait toward
the western-most reaches of Elanen.

     "You may ask of me what you will," the Qell
replied.

     "In all the weeks we have traveled, never have
you touched me.  Am I not to your liking?"

     Tynan had not expected the question and thought
carefully before he answered.  "You are very
desirable," he finally replied.  "But I sense that you
have never known the love of a man before."

     "This is true," Markel responded.  "There are no
others in our village such as I.  Each man is expected
to mate and produce children.  I do not think there
are any others left in the world who prefer men as
their lovers."

     "I cannot be your lover," Tynan finally said
after a brief silence.  "The fault is mine, not yours.
 It is not within me to physically bond with one I do
not love.  I have deep affection for you, but I do not
love you."

     Markel was unsure what to think at that
pronouncement.  He had come with the Qell because it
was his duty to the old grandmothers, but also because
he had hoped that his dream of a man's embrace and the
feel of masculine lips upon his own would be
fulfilled.

     He rode silently after that thinking to himself,
`I am not man enough to attract the love of a man.  I
have no weight upon my bones and can prepare no meal
but burnt greens and moldy grain.'  A deep heaviness
settled across his heart and he brushed away his
silent tears.

 . . .

     Downhearted, for the task before him was
unbearable, Tynan turned them toward Aolane ... that
ruined place that had been the center of Qell glory in
ancient times.  Perhaps he could draw upon the old
legends of his kind and rally mankind toward the hopes
and dreams of a return to all that had been before.

     They entered what had once been the courtyard of
the old castle fortress in a snowstorm so intense that
Tynan called upon Perinel to pick his way through the
rubble.  To his surprise a small fire burned ahead and
he silently removed his sword from its sheath.

     "It took you long enough to return," a deep voice
said, and Tynan's face lit in joy as he leapt from
Perinel and strode toward the unexpected.

     "What are you doing here?" he asked.

     "I sensed that the task of rebuilding what was
lost would require at least two of us, since the dawn
of mankind needed three."

     Markel slowly slipped from Shonnera, stunned and
confused as he saw yet another of the Qell.

     The tall body was leaning against what remained
of a wall, his right leg bent and foot pressed against
the wall.  His elbows were resting easily on the snow
encrusted stones.  Snowflakes covered his long black
tresses.

     "What have we here?" the new Qell asked as he
spied Markel.  "Is this your lover?"

     "He is not," Tynan replied, "nor should he be
yours for I know your fickle heart and will not have
him hurt."

     "I have no intention of hurting such a rare
beauty.  And it is rude of you to not introduce us,
Brother."

     The deep glow of fearsome Qell eyes left Tynan
with two choices: start a feud with one who would be
of help or hope that his brother had enough compassion
to be gentle and fair.

     "This is Markel," he finally said, "grandson of
the ancient forest grandmothers who have strived
through eons to keep our memory alive.  Markel, this
is Iashain, another manifestation of the Qell.  Trust
him, but do not love him."

     Iashain pushed himself away from the wall and
embraced Tynan.  "I heard your thoughts and sensed the
magnitude of the task before you," he said.  "The
magic that binds us required that I join you.  Come, I
have found a place where the walls have not completely
fallen.  We will eat and rest.  On the morrow we will
decide what must next be done."

     To Markel he extended his hand.  "Come, lad, I am
not an ogre.  My brother believes in love whereas I
believe in pleasure.  If you are willing, I will grant
you that which you have always longed to know."