Read A Likely Story: A Wayward Ink Publishing Anthology Online
Authors: Wayward Ink
He heard rather more than he cared to about a wrestling match scheduled for the following afternoon. He even heard about a plot to rob a local silk merchant, but he didn’t hear anything about magical creatures or monsters terrorizing the population. Apparently the King had turned down another potential bride, the losing race favorite, Red Fancy, was only good for dog meat, and Big Lily was the best goddamn whore around. All very interesting to those concerned, no doubt, but not what he had come all this way to hear.
He was startled out of his thoughts by a man stumbling against him. Without thinking, he reached out to stop his fall, catching his flailing arm.
“Steady on!”
“Forgive me! Damn stupid place to leave a bag!”
Dafydd looked up to see the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen, now glaring at him as they both realized it had been Dafydd’s bag that had caused the accident.
He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry! Have a seat and I’ll buy you a drink to make up for it.” A second’s glance showed him a fit, compact man in his mid-thirties with a harsh face and long black hair that reached his shoulders.
Dafydd kept the polite smile on his face as his heart flipped over in his chest. The thought never even entered his head that he was on a quest and therefore had no time for dalliance.
He could see the other man hesitating. Before he could refuse, Dafydd called over the waiter. “Two ales,” he said, firmly.
Reluctantly, the newcomer sat down, casting an instinctive glance about to check his surroundings. Then, for the first time, he took a proper look at the man in front of him. Green eyes, high cheek bones, long, silky hair, provocative mouth.
His eyes flared slightly and he licked his bottom lip. “You’re a wizard?” he blurted out—anything to break the spell the stranger had cast on him.
“Yes, my name is Dafydd.”
“I thought wizards only lived in the forest?” He sounded foolish, even to himself.
But the wizard was still smiling at him, his eyes bright with interest, “That’s true. I’m just here for a day or so, on business. Passing through.”
Their hands touched, ever so lightly, as they reached for their ale at the same time. Blue eyes looked into green, asking the question. Waited with bated breath.
What harm could it do? They were adults. Two strangers who would probably never see each other again. Without a word, Dafydd put down his drink, and followed the stranger upstairs.
Ultimatum
KING ARDIEL gazed steadily at the three Elders before him, his face a mask, showing no sign of the stress he was feeling.
They had told him that the magic was dying.
They had told him about the visions they had seen in the Scrying Pool.
Now Elder Aneiss was telling him about the latest girl they had found for him to marry. “She’s of good blood, not royal, it’s true, but… we are running out of candidates.”
The King thought she had only just stopped herself from saying ‘beggars can’t be choosers’.
The Elder continued, her voice persuasive, “She is young, comely enough and, most importantly, has some magic in her—”
Elder Corwin interrupted in a testy voice. “This is all very well, but the truth is, you
must
ask her to wed you within the month. Your time for choices has run out.”
“But we haven’t even met!” Marcus protested. “How do you know she would be willing to enter into a marriage so soon?”
“No need to worry she will refuse you,” replied Elder Aneiss wryly. “She is a biddable enough girl. You will have time enough to bind her to you after you are wed.”
“And if I refuse?” Marcus asked evenly.
Elder Corwin met his gaze, his face set in stern lines. “Then we will have no choice but to seek the Challenger—the man who will challenge you for the throne.”
DAFYDD WOUND his way through the streets of Fairhaven, seeking the source of the call. He had made an early start but it was a difficult task. The streets of the city resembled nothing so much as a maze. Where the call pulled him straight ahead, he usually had to turn left, or right, twisting and turning back on himself again and again.
Every so often his thoughts drifted back to the man he had met last night, and his lips turned upward into an unconscious smile. He sighed. Much as he would like to, he would probably never see him again. He made an effort to put the stranger out of his mind.
Eventually he reached Castle Haven. It rose up into the sky, full of towers and turrets, and presumably dungeons down below. Was it possible a monster lurked within the very palace? He stood back for a moment, eyes shut to increase his concentration. He couldn’t tell. There was magic in there, certainly, but that was to be expected in a palace. There was no choice, he would have to go inside and search.
Straightening his shoulders, he approached the huge golden door to speak to the Gate Keeper.
AS ONE, the three Elders froze.
“He is here already!” whispered Starwind.
“How did he know?”
“Oh, he is strong! I can feel his magic.”
“So the decision has been made for me!” Ardiel said in an angry voice. “You didn’t wait.”
“No! It wasn’t us. We didn’t call him!” Elder Aniess protested, shooting a sideways glance at her companions to check that neither of them had been premature.
They shook their heads, equally amazed.
A knock sounded outside, at the door to the hall.
They all watched, mesmerized, as a footman stepped forward to open it.
When Dafydd entered the hall, he saw three Elders grouped together: an elf, a man, and a woman. And beyond them he saw… the King, dressed in his royal robes, looking absolutely furious.
His hair was much shorter than the last time he had seen him. His skin was now a few shades paler, his features no longer subtly altered by magic, but nevertheless, he recognized him instantly.
It was the man he had slept with last night.
The Challenge
THEY WERE all staring at him with open mouths.
Dafydd knew exactly why the King was staring, but what had he done to warrant that reaction from the Elders? Surely the King hadn’t told them about what they had done last night? It seemed highly unlikely, given that he was supposed to be seeking a wife!
He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Sire, Elders, perhaps you can help me. My name is Dafydd Wren. I’ve been on a Wizard’s Quest now for a week and the call has drawn me here. Do you know of any magical creature I should be hunting?”
The Elders exchanged looks. “You are the Challenger,” stated the elf, as if it were a proven fact. “The magic called you here.”
“A week ago, you say?” queried Corwin. He nodded to himself. “That would have been when you dismissed Jez,” he told the King.
“The magic has taken matters into its own hands, so to speak,” murmured Aniess.
Dafydd was confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What exactly is the Challenger? Who am I supposed to Challenge?”
“Why, the King, of course! You have to challenge the King for the throne of Aerlith.”
“It is a battle of magic,” explained the elf. “The man with the strongest magic will win.”
“And the winner takes the throne.”
KING MARCUS stood frozen in place while the conversation flowed around him like a swarm of bees buzzing in the air. He was waiting with every breath for the wizard to expose him as a lover of men. What need was there for a battle of magic when he could take the throne with a few words?
The Elders were still explaining the situation to the newcomer. “We must have a King who can sire children. The magic depends on it.”
For a moment the King’s eyes met Dafydd’s across the room.
Marcus felt like breaking into hysterical laughter as the truth dawned on him. From his experience last night, he guessed that the wizard would have exactly the same problems with that as he did himself.
“I can’t challenge the King! I’m a wizard. I wouldn’t know how to be king, even if I wanted to,” Dafydd was protesting.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” the elf told him. “The magic has chosen
you
.”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Sire,” Dafydd addressed the King directly, his tone respectful. “I think we should talk about this, in private.”
“Yes,” replied Marcus coolly.
Ignoring the Elders’ protests, Dafydd followed the King into his private chambers and watched while he locked the door.
Wizard’s Spawn
“IT WON’T keep them out if they really want to enter, but it should make them think twice,” Marcus announced, breaking the silence.
“I won’t challenge you,” Dafydd said immediately. “But perhaps last night was not the chance encounter it seemed. There must be a reason the magic drew me here. Perhaps we are meant to be together.”
The King caught his breath. Although he knew it was utterly inappropriate, just being alone again with Dafydd had his blood heating. It was all he could do to keep his distance.
“Oh gods! If only that were true! But Aerlith still needs an heir. How in heaven’s name could the two of us manage that?”
But to Marcus’ bewilderment, Dafydd smiled at him. “Oh, I can help you there. Nature has an infinite variety of ways to reproduce—we’ll just use a different method from the usual.”
The only image that popped into the King’s head was a seahorse. He remembered reading about them as a child, fascinated that it was the male who carried the baby to term.
He gazed at Dafydd in horror, his hands going protectively to cover his flat stomach. Where the hell would it fit?
Dafydd laughed. “I was thinking more along the lines of salmon,” he teased. “Where you would produce the seed, separately, and we would transfer it to a woman.”
He lowered his voice. “And more than that, if you like. I’m a wizard, remember? There are ways of merging our seed to create a new life. Wizard’s spawn.”
“You can do that?” For a moment Marcus felt a flicker of hope burn in his chest. Was it possible? Could he really put all the years of subterfuge and deception behind him? Could he have a loving relationship with the man he desired that lasted more than one soulless night, and keep his Kingdom?
Then reality crashed in.
“But the council would never stand for it. Not in a million years.”
“I’m not so sure. I don’t think they have a choice. Let’s go and ask them, shall we?”
Dafydd led the way out into the hall. The Elders were still waiting, irritation showing plainly on their faces.
“Marcus is my king. I won’t challenge him,” stated Dafydd in a calm voice, his arms folded across his chest.
“You must!”
“It’s not up to
you
!”
“You don’t understand! You have to!” Corwin was almost shouting, his face going red.
“No
,
I’m afraid it is you three who don’t understand
.
Let me explain a few cold facts to you.” Dafydd moved to stand beside the King.
“Fact number one, the magic has brought us together. A truth I think none of you will dispute?” He waited until he gained a reluctant nod or two before continuing.
“Fact number two, neither of us wants or needs a wife. What we
need
is a woman willing to be a surrogate.”
The Elders stared at the two of them in shock, understanding dawning on their faces, words choking in their throats.
Dafydd continued in a reasonable tone, as if he were discussing what they should have for dinner. “That shouldn’t be too hard. Offer a worthy recompense and, once we have heirs, she will be free to marry elsewhere at her leisure, if she wishes.” He smiled at the Elders.
“Oh, and fact number three,” said the King, taking Dafydd’s face gently between his hands. “We’re in love with each other. We’re getting married.”
And he kissed Dafydd in front of them all.
After thirty years of working with the unemployed, coping with threats, tears and broken lives (and these were only from fellow staff), L.V. LLOYD decided it was time to make her escape. And what better place to go than the world of m/m romance? She started writing Dangerous Tension, her first eBook, years ago, but put it aside due to work and family commitments.
In 2012, she dusted off the foolscap pages stored under her bed, finished the story and turned it into a book. Since then, she has written three more eBooks in the Aurigan Space Saga series, and numerous short stories.
LV Lloyd lives in Adelaide, Australia, with her family and two cats. In her spare time she enjoys fishing and visiting the many local wineries.
L.V. Lloyd can be found at:
Website:
http://lvlloyd.com/
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006169894688
DR. GLEN WRIGHT handed over a prescription to his patient, waited until the young woman had exited, and closed the door. He checked his appointment diary to see what was in store for him next. It had been a very long surgery and he’d been running late, but he was lucky enough to have caught up over the past hour, with the most recent patients each needing only two or three minutes of his time. He was happy to discover he had just one more patient to see, in ten minutes. Relieved, he got up to pour himself a glass of water from the cooler in the corner. He would enjoy a short break before Martin Reynolds arrived, and then he could go to the gym, swim a few laps of the pool, and head home for a late dinner.