Date: Sat, 4 Oct 2003 21:43:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dark Wishes Installment 34:Part 5 chapter 7

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 Seven

     Spring came slowly to the ten kingdoms.  Usan and
Hadrad took turns hunting with the Qell when the
weather permitted for Tynan and Iashain were reluctant
to venture far from Markel and Efren.  The hunters
never strayed from the strict laws laid down by the
lords of magic: never take the life of a female for
she will bear the future, and never take the very old
who teach the very young.  And should a whitish-grey
feline with dark grey stripes be sighted he was to be
respected and avoided, protected by Tynan's magic.

     Their meals sometimes consisted of no more than a
scrawny quail or hare mixed with tubers in a stew, but
Frina did her best to add herbs and tasteful grasses
to the pot.  She trusted in the Qell to see that there
would soon be wheat to grind into flour and daily
tended the yeast that had been handed down pinch by
pinch from her earliest ancestress, Trelaine's cook.
Sticky bread and pies were known to be favorites of
the Qell of ancient times and she saw no reason to
doubt that these magic lords would hesitate to sample
when she had the chance to bake them.

     Efren's arm healed slowly for his exposure to the
winter storm had given him more than broken bones.  He
clung tenuously to life through the long winter, alive
perhaps by Tynan's love for him.  Markel spent much of
his time with Efren, slowly trying to teach him the
ancient art of reading that he was learning from
Iashain.

     "I am to help when spring finally returns," he
told his friend one afternoon when the weather turned.
 "Our lords are going to take count of all that live
and I will keep the tally."

     Efren barely paid attention to the neat lines
Markel had etched into a hide until he heard, "King
Tynan told Iashain that he hopes you will be well
enough to journey with us."

 . . .

     "Are they very like the ancient lords?" Efren
asked one afternoon when Tynan and Iashain were
hunting for fresh meat to add to Frina's simmering pot
of roots.

     "We know only w'at be passed to us by t'
grandmothers who lived in their time," Usan told the
two young men.  "I believe both o' them have a part of
Trelaine, and he was all three of t' Ancients.  Only
time will tell us which of t' lords be most like their
individual kinsmen."

     "I believe Iashain must be Ilafrain," Markel said
as looked up from the study his lover had assigned
him.  He used a stylus fashioned from the pin-feather
of a bird found dead outside their door one cold
morning and dipped it into ink made of water thickened
and darkened with ashes from the fireplace to practice
his writing.  "The legends say he was a gentle lover
and the creator of the old archives."

     "And you his Nels?" Efran teased before he asked,
"Which might Tynan be?"  His question was aimed at
Usan who was aiding Hanrad plan the future city of
Aolane by drawings of the castle and other buildings
on the dirt floor.

     "Perhaps he be Resnaron," Usan replied and Efren
wrinkled his brow, for Resnaron was remembered as
cold, distant, and weak.

     "Legend tells he loved Frayne," Markel quickly
added, "so much so that he would not let his lover see
him die."

     "I wish you may be right," Efren replied, "for I
love him and would like his love in return.  Better
Resnaron than Miralen."

     " `E may have cause one day t' wish that part of
Miralen be in our lords as he was in Trelaine," Usan
told both of them.  "Might be others what will tries
t' take from us when Elanen prospers again."

     "But Miralen did murder without rhyme or reason,"
Efren replied.

     "We do not know that for fact," Hadrad said,
looking up from his drawings.  "Nor do we know why he
murdered, if he did.  The only knowledge of which we
are certain is that he was a war-lord of great passion
who protected the ten kingdoms of old.  I, for one,
would want him as my leader if I were to face an enemy
with nothing about me but a shield and lance."

     "Best be back at study, lads," Usan finally said,
not wanting their talk to turn too much toward the
thought of the feared Miralen.  "Lord Iashain will
want Efren to read what `e wrote, Markel."

     The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully with
Markel trying to remember and write the words Iashain
had shown him for the various types of animals the
Qell could remember living in ancient Elanen.  He
paused on occasion, Efren trying to read the words he
had written.  Usan and Hadrad spoke softly to each
other, and argued at times, about the placement and
proposed building of each structure Aolane would need
to become the glorious capital city of the Lords of
Magic once again.  Frina kept careful watch on her
stew and mended what tattered clothing they had,
hoping there would be wool come spring that she could
spin and weave into cloth for new tunics and breeches.


     The quiet respite was shattered when Tynan and
Iashain returned with a buck thrown across Tynan's
mighty shoulders.  Markel and Efren rushed from their
seats near the fireplace, causing Hadrad to utter a
curse as they ran across part of his drawings, and
cast themselves into their lovers' arms.

     "A good, clean kill," Frina said as she examined
the carcass.  "The skin has little damage."

     "Done of a purpose, Mistress," Iashain told her.
"The hide will make all of us new soft boots."

     Hadrad took the deer carcass outside and began
the process of preparing the meat and hide.  A
suitable portion was given to Frina for her stew and
the rest of the carcass was hung in the smoke-house he
had recently built.

     Setting Efren to watch the stew, Frina took wood
ashes from the fireplace and used them to scrub the
hair away from the deer skin.  When that was finished
she brushed it gently with a soft rag to be sure no
hair remained before she began the long task of
chewing the hide to soften it.  Iashain sent Markel to
help her and between the two of them, with time only
to eat a bowl of stew, the two had the hide ready for
the next step before sunrise of the next day.

     "The Qell could have aided us with a little of
their magic," Markel groaned when Frina told him his
task was finished and he could sleep.

     "What takes time to do is best done with time,"
she told him.  "Craft is not craft if not done right.
This buckskin will make strong boots, and you will
remember this when you wear them.  It will teach you
to take a care with the things made by hard sweat and
tears."

     Iashain and Hadrad joined her when Markel
stumbled into the one room they all shared and
collapsed on his cot to sleep.  Man and Qell stretched
the hide on the tanning rack Usan had made during the
winter when Frina tanned the skin of the rabbits used
in her stews to make warm gloves.  When the deer hide
had been laced into place, Frina used the deer's brain
Usan had prepared for her and covered the hide with
it.  When finished, the buckskin would indeed be
strong and supple.

     Frina finally sighed as she surveyed the
handiwork.  She had done the work well and promised
herself that the first pair of boots she made would be
for Markel.  Her own would be last for she was
accustomed to going bare of foot in good weather and
the soles of her feet had developed a leathery
toughness of their own.  She also knew that as spring
turned to summer and then fall that there would be
sufficient deer for her to make buckskin clothing if
no wool became available.  Smiling to herself as she
went to her own pile of blankets and drifted off to
sleep, she knew she had assured herself a place in the
household of the Kings.  Her next task was to find a
husband who would share her life and give her children
to raise in the service of the Qell.

 . . .

     Spring finally threw off the heavy mantle of
winter.  The trees began to leaf and were quickly
filled with the sound of baby birds calling endlessly
to their parents for food.  Young rabbits left the
safety of the warrens with their mothers in search of
clover, guarded by fierce hares.  Fawns stood on
wobbly legs, their spots helping to hide them in the
forests.  Ewes and nannys gave birth in meadows and on
mountain crags.  Shonnera dropped a foal as black as
her mate while the rest of Perinel's harem, free on
open range, gave birth to his other sons and
daughters.  Bees hurried back and forth as they took
nectar from the spring wildflowers and carried it back
to their hives in the rotted trunks of fallen trees.

     "Come with me," Tynan said to Efren one day when
the sun shone high and offered the promise of gentle
warmth.

     Efren followed the Qell and was surprised to see
Perinel standing quietly outside, a soft blanket
across his back.

     "Today we go for a ride," Tynan told him.

     "I cannot ride," Efren shyly replied.

     "You will sit before me," Tynan said.  "You will
need do nothing but lean against me.  I will guide him
to a place I would like you to see."

     He led the giant horse to a stand of steady
stones and helped Efren make his way to the top of
them.  The arm had healed but was still weak and Tynan
wanted to make it as easy as possible for the young
man to mount Perinel.  Under Tynan's gentle urging,
Efren eased his right leg across the back of the
mighty black and settled into place, grasping the mane
to help steady himself.  Tynan was soon in place
behind him and he felt reassured by a gentle strength.

     They rode for perhaps an hour when Tynan turned
Perinel from the open path and into the forest.
Dismounting, he urged the massive beast to follow him
carefully for Efren was still mounted.  They walked in
silence for a time, until Tynan stopped at the edge of
a small clearing surrounded by tall trees.

     Efren forgot how to breathe at the beauty before
him.  Shafts of sunlight filtered down, breaking
through the dense treetops like water cascading over a
waterfall.  The clearing was covered with woodland
wildflowers ranging from the lightest of blue to
purple so dark it was nearly black.  Butterbirds of
deep gold and red flitted from one flower to the next,
pausing only long enough at each to sip sweet nectar.

     Tynan removed his cloak and laid it across a
patch of flowers, releasing their sweet aroma.
Returning to Efren, he spoke softly to Perinel and
Efren was surprised when the horse went down on his
knees.  Efren was able to dismount easily.  Still
unable to speak at the wonder of this quiet glade,
Efren took the hand the Qell offered him and followed.

     The silence of the hidden clearing was
interrupted as Efren finally knew the love he had so
long desired.

 . . .

     In Aolane Markel was once again busy writing
words Iashain gave him when a thought hit him so hard
that he dropped his quill and pressed both of his
hands to his face.  Iashain also felt the impact of
the thought and quickly wrapped his arms around his
beloved.  In less than the blink of an eye they were
in the simple cottage where Tynan had found succor
during his first hours in the world of man.

     The fire in the fireplace had burned low and two
women, almost as old as time, covered themselves in
ashes as they prepared to mourn the passing of a
sister.

     "Go to her," Iashain urged Markel, and pushed his
love toward the cot upon which lay Belthanan.

     As old as she had always seemed to her many times
grandson, she now appeared older than time itself.
Her skin was stretched tightly across her face and her
eyes seemed larger than he had ever seen them.  Her
hands, always wrinkled and covered with dark spots,
now looked like bird's claws ... shrunken and withered.
But she had raised him and he loved her so he did not
shrink away when she took his face in her hands and
urged him toward her for a kiss.

     It struck him like lightning, that final kiss,
and he closed his eyes at the pain.  When he opened
them again she was gone ... literally gone.  There was
nothing left of her at all.  A blinding headache
consumed him and he managed to gasp to Iashain before
he collapsed, "She has given me all of her knowledge."

To be continued...