Date: Thu, 9 Oct 2003 20:11:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dark Wishes Installment 35: Part 5 Chapter 8

This is the ongoing sequel to `Dark Wishes' and the
Qell lords of magic, both of which are copyrighted
under Nifty and International Common Law.  This is a
story of kings and magic, love and war, and is
suitable for all age groups because love, like beauty,
is in the eye of the beholder.

Unspoken Wishes

M.C. Gordon

Part One: Markel

Chapter Eight

     It was bitterly cold and the ominous black clouds
overhead threatened to let loose torrential rain that
would turn to ice before it hit the ground.  The King
grasped the massive steed beneath him with
well-muscled thighs.  The mighty black war-horse
radiated power as he surged forward into battle.
Swords clashed and clang against each other and
shields while arrows sang their way from bow to body.

     The King, at the forefront of the battle, used
his sword with great efficiency ... a sword no mortal
man could lift.  The King, Qell, used it with ease
against his enemy, the muscles in his right arm
bulging as he struck down one, and then another.  His
heart was filled with vengeance for his lover lay
dead, fallen beneath a horse with arrows protruding
from the fair body.

     He could have used magic to vanquish those
responsible for the death of his beloved, but he
wanted to feel the give of tendon and bone as his
great sword stuck deep.  There could not be enough
blood spilled to pay the price of great violet eyes
lost to him forever, or merry laughter and loving
arms.

     Sweat poured down his face in spite of the cold.
His arm began to ache from the weight of his mighty
sword, and yet he fought on.  He would have his
revenge for the kidnapping of the man who had lifted
his heart and body to the heights of love.

     "Go!" he shouted.  "I will not have you see me
die!  Go to that other who pulls at your heart.  Save
his life and yours."

     Efren, realizing that Tynan was in the agony of a
nightmare, bolted from the bed they shared and rushed
to Iashain.  "Please," he begged, "help him."

     Iashain was awake, as was everyone else, and
responded by rushing to his brother Qell's side.
"Join me," he said to Markel.  "I need the magic of
the old grandmothers."

     Markel, calling for any memory that would help,
bid Frina raise the fire in the fireplace and light
the candles she had made from the tallow of the bucks
hanging in the smoke-house.

     "He dreams," Iashain whispered, "of things that
happened in the far past, of our brothers and their
lovers.  Miralen often had such dreams, as did
Trelaine.  We are young still, and the power of our
magic not yet complete.  If we cannot bring him back
then he will die, and I will die with him."

     Frina lit the candles and sprinkled crushed
lavender and rosemary into the fire.  Usan and Hadrad
hastily dressed in the buckskin breeches and tunics
Frina had made and went to fetch logs for the
fireplace.  They acted all the more swiftly because
they sighted a large cat pacing back and forth, his
huge feet kicking up swirls of the late spring snow
that had recently fallen.

     Iashain squatted and pulled Tynan to a sitting
position, pulling his brother's body against his own
bare chest.  "Take his hands," he bid Efren and
Markel, "and then join your own.  You are both
children of the forests.  The blood of Nels and Frayne
runs within your veins, distant though it may be.  Yet
I have no other to aid me, and trust that there is
enough of what Resnaron and Ilafrain passed to them of
their magic.  You must concentrate hard, seek deep
within yourselves and find that which is your
birthright, for I cannot do this alone."

     The hours passed slowly, night into day and night
again.  Iashain cast his mind toward any that might
aid in saving Tynan from the nightmare that had
gripped his soul.  Efren and Markel grasped each
other's hands and those of the stricken Qell until
their fingers grew numb and their knuckles locked.
Frina kept the candles lit while Usan and Hadrad tried
to remember anything of the old tales, hoping they
could recall something that might be of importance.

     Dawn broke on the third day and an unusual mist
began to form in the room where the odd group had
found shelter during the winter.  Iashain was the
first to feel the unusual damp chill.

     "Thank you," he whispered.

     The shadows that formed said nothing for they
were ethereal, born and dead in the hands of time.
One by one they became one with those in the room, the
six lovers of the Ancients ... and the Qell, who joined
with Iashain.

     "Return," they whispered, their gossamer bodies
part, and yet not part, of the mortals seeking to keep
the Qell alive.  Like whisps of smoke they went from
one to another until they found the mortal most likely
to serve their purpose.

     "It is past," Iashain finally said in a voice
that was not his own.  "What has been is no longer,
and those we loved have long since joined us in
eternity.  Put these memories behind you.  What we
seek now is the future of the ten kingdoms.  We will
be with all of you as you strive to bring prosperity
to mankind.  I, Trelaine, promise you this.  Be at
peace, brother, as I found peace."

     Tynan slumped forward in Iashain's arms and the
Qell hurriedly said, "Take him."

     Efren gathered his lover to him as he collapsed,
cradling the body to himself.  Markel barely had time
to react and catch Iashain before he fell backward to
the ground.

     Frina, last to lose the spirit which had taken
their minds, whispered, "We thank you for your love of
them," as a vision of auburn hair rose above her.

 . . .

     "We had intended to travel separately," Iashain
told Markel as they packed the dried venison Frina
gave them.  "You and I were to go east while Tyan and
Efren traveled west.  Now I find it best if we travel
together, lest my brother once again suffer memories
best left unremembered until we are strong enough to
endure them."

     "I understand," Markel replied.  "I will do all
that you require of me, for I know the only hope the
world has is the two of you.  Too long have men
suffered hardships.  I will try to recall more of my
grandmother's memories in the hope that I can be of
greater service."

     "I am not an invalid and will not be treated as
one!" Tynan barked.

     "This is true," Iashain said, turning to face his
brother Qell.  "But what if I should be the next to
have dark memories?  Markel alone cannot save me any
more than Efren could save you.  Together we have
strength, brother.  Separately ... either of us might
fail.  Would you have mankind remain in darkness,
starvation, and ignorance because of arrogance?  And I
also wish to point out to you that Efren, because of
his illness during the winter, has not learned to
write while Markel has.  Now that your gentle love is
in full health I will teach him as we travel.  We
cannot traverse the width and breadth of Elanen in the
length of one summer and autumn.  We will do the best
we can this season and set ourselves different paths
after the next frozen winter passes."

     Tynan reluctantly agreed and the four set out on
their journey to Elanen's west, seeking first
Perinel's harem ... for any colts born would be of
sufficient size to bear their provisions.

To be continued:

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