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.