Kell's heart was racing,
pounding in his ears, almost overwhelming him; he sought desperately for
words, but none came.
The king stepped back, looking the speechless wizard directly in the eye.
"I know what you did for me." The words were fast and low, carrying an intensity like nothing Kell had ever heard before. "The Archmage told me that a wizard changes shape only at great need, for fear that he will be trapped forever in the chosen shape." He moved forward again, catching Kell's face in both hands. "What have I done, that you would risk your life for me?"
His dark eyes held Kell's; the tension, the emotion in the air was palpable. Kell swallowed hard, forcing his dry throat to respond.
"My lord..."
Putting a hand on the back of Kell's neck, the king gently pulled him closer, placing the lightest of kisses on the wizard's unresisting lips.
"Call me Arren."
As if a dam had broken inside him, words began to flood out of Kell's mouth, tumbling over one another in their haste.
"You took me in, made me welcome when I deserved to be turned away. You treated me with kindness, spoke to me as an equal, when I was worth less than a minute of your time. More than that, you were not just my king, but my friend. My lord..." tentatively, he stroked a tendril of hair that hung down over the king's face, "...Arren...whatever I can do, I shall."
In one graceful movement, Arren slid his arms around Kell's back and pulled him close, his dark hair cushioning the wizard's temple, his own face pressed into the other's tousled hair.
Outside in the corridor, the guard for whom Kell had worked illusion smiled, nodded to himself and gently closed the door.
Eventually Arren loosed his tight embrace, still holding Kell close but standing face to face. He detached one hand from the other boy's waist, bringing it up to brush away a stray golden lock from Kell's face.
"We are late for council," he murmured, and Kell started. Indeed, the sun was up, and its golden rays painted the walls and ceiling with intermittent gold.
The two drew apart, not without reluctance, and with a last backward glance Arren departed to his own chambers to prepare himself for the day ahead.
"...Uny and Namien are willing, if the Lord of O is agreeable."
Kell started, aware he had been daydreaming. Fortunately, no-one else on the Council seemed to have noticed.
The discussion was an important one about a new trading agreement between the southerly Inner Lands, but though Kell knew it was important his attention constantly wandered. Arren sat not far away, at ease and yet every inch the king; from where Kell sat he could see Arren framed against a window, his dark eyes flicking back and forth as opposing speakers traded points. His fine cheekbones and handsome face captivated Kell, who found he could not tear his eyes away from the striking young man.
A chuckle ran round the room as one of the speakers made a humorous remark about his opposing number; during the brief and gentlemanly argument that followed, Arren's dark eyes sought out and held Kell's green ones, and he flashed the wizard a warm smile that made Kell's stomach turn over.
Finally the Council reached a decision, voting overwhelmingly to support the new agreement, and the court began to break up and go their separate ways in the deepening twilight.
Arren and Kell walked together through the cool corridors of the palace, climbing the long spiral staircase at the heart of the tower until they reached Kell's room.
Arren stopped on the threshold, resting his head against the doorframe. "A good day."
Kell turned, smiling. "A good day, my lord."
"Arren," chided the other boy, laughing quietly.
Kell walked back towards him, taking his hand and shyly intertwining their fingers. "Arren, then. Or should I call you Lebannen?"
Arren shook his head. "Everyone knows my true name. Because I could not give it to you, I gave you my old use-name - something no-one else calls me." He squeezed Kell's hand gently. "Because you are special."
Kell blushed, lowering his eyes. "I'm honoured. In return," he moved closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "my true name is...Oriel."
Arren started - in the Old Speech, oriel meant the hazel tree, just as his own true name, lebannen, meant the rowan. Then emotion flooded over him as he realised the magnitude of the gift he had been given, for there was nothing of greater importance to a wizard than his true name. "Thank you," he murmured, holding the other boy tightly, tears misting his eyes.
For a while they stood there, saying nothing, the only sound that of distant waves breaking upon the shores of Havnor Bay. then they drew apart, slightly awkwardly, and Kell began to make ready for the night ahead.
Arren turned to leave, then stopped. On impulse, he said quietly, "I'll miss you."
Kell stopped in the act of turning back his bedclothes. "I'm sorry?"
"Tonight, I mean." The king looked down at the floor. "I haven't dreamed of the Dry Land in four nights. Sleep was easy with you there, comforting me." Abruptly, he shook himself. "I'm sorry. Good night."
"Goodnight," Kell responded, as Arren left for his own rooms.
Kell couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the king, tormented by his nightmares, tossing and turning in his bed. Should I go to him? Do I dare?
For a long time he wrestled with himself in the darkness, and then his words came back to him. Whatever I can do, I shall.
Pulling his cloak around himself, he slipped quietly from his bed and made his way along the corridor, lighting his path with the tiniest spark of werelight. When he reached Arren's door, he knocked gently, then steeled himself and went in.
The sight that met his eyes caused him to stop just inside the room, his cloak falling unheeded from his shoulders. Arren was leant against the far wall, arms folded, his face turned towards the open window. He was shirtless; the light from the fire burning quietly in the grate cast shadows outlining the lean muscles of his sun-tanned body.
Realising Kell was in the room, he turned his handsome, dark-eyed face upon the wizard and gave him a smile full of warmth.
Arren pushed himself away from the wall and walked slowly towards the other boy, marvelling at the wizard's lissome build and graceful bearing. He was slender and attractive, his fair skin and golden hair enhanced by the warm firelight. Without his cloak he was clad only in a pair of short trousers which, together with his big green eyes, made him look young and innocent. His body was slim and lightly muscled, boyish shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and long legs.
Wordlessly, Arren slid his bare arms around the younger boy's warm body, pulling him close. He tilted Kell's chin up, then leant down to meld their lips together.
The kiss was long and deep. Kell put his arms tentatively around Arren's shoulders; in return, Arren trailed his fingers through Kell's golden hair. Their tongues met and embraced, hesitantly at first, then more daringly as Kell caressed Arren's cheek. The fire flickered in the grate, casting its light across the young couple as they shared for the first time the intimacy of another's touch.
Kell wrapped his arms more tightly around Arren, snuggling down under the sheets and the thick, soft eiderdown. Arren chuckled, resting his head on Kell's shoulder and watching the boy drift slowly into sleep.
Licking his fingers, he reached out and snuffed the candle by the bedside. Now the only light in the room came from the dying embers of the fire, murmuring softly to themselves in the hearth.
Pressing a last tender kiss to Kell's forehead, Arren pulled the quilt up around his shoulders and promptly fell asleep. His dreams that night were not of the Dry Land, but of green fields and white mountains, trickling streams and quiet beaches, soft laughter and sparkling water running off golden skin...
Kell yawned and stretched, waking slowly from sleep. Warm arms were around him and soft hair spread across his chest; smiling, he reached down and brushed a finger over Arren's cheek. He was rewarded by a dark eye opening and turning to look up at him, laughter already waking in its depths.
"Good morning," he chuckled, tracing the line of Arren's jaw with the back of his finger.
"Morning already?" the other boy groaned jokingly, pushing hair back out of his eyes. "It can't be."
"But it is," Kell assured him, rolling easily out of bed and starting to gather up his clothes. Behind him, he heard the floor creak softly as Arren reluctantly hauled himself out of bed. Then there were quiet footsteps, and then silence.
Throwing his armful of clothes over the nearest chair, Kell turned to find Arren leaning by the window, exactly as he had been the night before, the morning breeze stirring his hair as he gazed out into the sunrise.
Crossing quietly to where he stood, Kell slid his arms gently around the other boy's waist and rested his chin on Arren's shoulder. "What do you see?"
Still staring out across Havnor Bay, Arren smiled ruefully. "I can't see it, but I know it's there - a land that hates me, that refuses to believe that I'm anything other than a stuck-up country prince with ideas above his station."
Sensing that there was something Arren wasn't saying, Kell rephrased his question. "What do you want to see?"
Surprised by the young wizard's perception, Arren chuckled softly; then his eyes misted over with remembrance. "I remember when the Archmage and I rode from Selidor to Roke on the back of Kalessin, eldest and greatest of dragons, and I remember the faces of the Masters of Roke when we arrived. They knew, then, as I knew, that I would take the throne. And before that, the other dragon - the golden one, Orm Embar - called me...agni Lebannen. Lebannen, the king. As if they knew all along..."
Kell nodded, tightening his arms around the other's waist, understanding. "And you wish that a dragon would come from the west, and speak to the Lord of Paln as he did to you...agni Lebannen..."
The young king turned a sad smile to his wizard. "Is that as arrogant as it sounds? That dragons should do my bidding..."
Kell murmured something Arren did not catch, low under his breath, taking one hand from Arren's waist and making a strange, curving pass through the air.
Turning, Arren found a perfect replica of Orm Embar, no longer than his forearm, stood upon the windowsill. He laughed in startled delight, stretching out his hand to run his fingers down the scaled back. The tiny dragon stretched his neck, spreading golden wings that shimmered in the sun, and spoke.
"Agni Lebannen."
Then it bowed its head, once, and vanished in a flare of sunlight. Amazed, Arren turned back to Kell, who shrugged apologetically.
"An illusion, nothing more."
"Nothing more?" Arren was incredulous. "It was beautiful, and perfect..." Running out of words, he reached out to touch Kell's cheek. "Thank you."
Kell turned his head away. "It was less than nothing. Any sorcerer could have done the same." He turned a face full of sudden anguish on the older boy. "I'm supposed to be your court wizard! And what have I done since I came here? A few illusions, a misused Change spell...nothing of any importance." He almost choked on the unexpected lump in his throat. "I'm useless to you."
Arren grabbed him firmly by both shoulders. "You're anything but useless. Would another wizard have been able to give such sound advice in Council? Would another wizard have used a Change spell so selflessly, risking his life just to let me sleep a little easier?" He pulled Kell in close, till their faces were mere inches apart. "Would anyone else have spent last night with me like you did?" He looked at Kell seriously from a distance a little under an inch. "Heavens bless the Master Patterner for sending you to me."
"I need a holiday."
Kell looked up from the book he had been reading with a near-incredulous smile on his face. It was noon in the palace, and the Council had adjourned for lunch; the two of them were alone in the palace gardens, Arren idly trailing his hand in one of the fish pools as he munched an apple. Kell was sat up against the trunk of a huge, ancient oak tree reading a book - or he had been, until Arren's sudden declaration.
"A holiday? But you're the king - you can't just lock up and leave the key under a stone in the front porch."
By way of answer, Arren threw his apple core at the wizard. It never reached its intended target - Kell flung out a hand, fingers spread, and the core stopped in mid-air.
Grinning, Arren adopted a mock-chiding tone. "Isn't that a misuse of your powers?"
Kell considered this for a moment. "No. But this probably is." With a flick of his fingers he sent the apple core flying back the other way, pinwheeling through the air until it bounced off the king's nose.
The incensed boy jumped on him, and there followed a brief, energetic wrestling match that ended with the two of them laid on the cool grass under the tree, trying to get their breath back.
"I wasn't joking, you know," Arren managed eventually. "I need a holiday."
Kell rolled over to face him, propping his chin on one hand. "But who will rule while you're away?"
Arren lay on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up through the tree branches at the cloudless azure sky. "The Long Dance takes place in a week - people will be too busy preparing for it to be bothered with anything the king says. I can leave Prince Sege to deal with anything that happens while we're away."
There was just enough emphasis on the word for Kell to notice. "We're?"
Arren raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, we're. Did you think I'd go alone?"
Kell blushed. "Won't you be taking...oh, I don't know, a retinue or something? Servants, bodyguards..."
Arren made a face and waved a hand dismissively. "Sycophants and hangers-on...no thanks." He reached forward and caught Kell's face between his hands, smiling as the wizard instinctively leaned into the touch. "Why would I need them, when," he brushed Kell's blonde hair back from his face, "I have you?"
Kell coloured an even deeper shade of pink. "Where would we go?"
Arren sat back, crossing one leg underneath him. "Nowhere on Havnor. I want to get away, even if it's only for a little while. We can't go too far, either - we must be back for the Long Dance. I was thinking..." He cast a sideways glance at Kell, gauging the other's reaction. "...Ilien?"
The unspoken question was answered as Kell's eyes lit up. "Truly? We could go to Ilien?"
Delighted by the response, Arren chuckled and reached out to touch Kell's arm. "Would you like to?"
"I would love to."
"See there - the Hunter and his Quarry." Kell's pointing finger picked out the stars as he named them. "Over there, the Mother," a twinkling yellow star, "the Maiden," a much brighter, much smaller blue-white point of light, "and the Crone," a sullen red cinder burning in the sky. "Up there..." He trailed off as he realised his audience was no longer paying attention.
The two boys had all but eloped from the Palace, mentioning their departure to none save Prince Sege and Eilel, the kindly lady who had first shown Kell around the Palace and who was a good friend of the king's. Then they had slipped away before the Council could be roused and Arren coerced into staying - or worse, into making the holiday a formal Royal Excursion. Pausing only to stock a small but sturdy sailboat with sufficient food, water and clothing, they had rowed out of Havnor Great Port at first light and hoisted sail.
Now the two lay together in the bottom of the boat, covered by a thick woollen blanket. The boat was prevented from drifting by both a holding spell and a sea anchor, a long tapered tube of waxed leather designed to create sufficient drag to keep the boat in place. Kell had also crafted an illusion, sustainable even while he slept - to the casual eye, they would look like nothing more than a patch of open sea.
The sky was clear, and until a few moments ago they had been watching the stars come out one by one. Then Kell, feeling Arren's eyes upon him, had ceased his naming and turned to face the dark-haired boy.
For a long time neither of them spoke. Kell was captivated by his companion's eyes, the silver stars reflected in their sable depths. Arren was savouring the moment - the simple intimacy that came with such closeness, the comforting presence of another lying less than a hand's breadth away.
Then a cool gust of wind blew over them, waking them from their mutual contemplation. Arren pulled the blanket up around his bare shoulders and shivered.
"How much further must we go?" He smiled. "Not that I would have this journey end any sooner than it must, but if we are to spend much time on Ilien, we ought to reach it soon."
Kell stretched out a hand to touch Arren's cheek. "With you near I could summon the magewind even in a dead calm. We are already more than halfway there - we should arrive late tomorrow."
Arren brought his hand up to touch Kell's elbow, then used the contact to pull them closer together until he could feel the wizard's warm breath on his face. "Until tomorrow, then. Good night."
Tentatively, Kell inched forward until he could place a soft kiss on Arren's cheek; he was reassured by warm arms encircling him. "Good night."
They fell asleep quickly, lulled by the gentle motion of the waves and the simple comfort of being in another's arms.
Arren shook his head, sending his hair streaming out before him in the wind. Kell's sudden ability to call the magewind was nothing short of miraculous - though he would take none of the credit. When Arren had complimented him he smiled, shook his head and said,
"Without you, I could never raise the magewind; now the sail never hangs slack. Your presence alone is the reason - my heart flies like an eagle, and the magewind lifts its wings." Then, realising what he had said, he ducked his head in embarrassment and refused to look up until Arren hugged him and kissed him soundly.
Whatever the reason, with the magewind in her sail the boat was fairly flying, her bow cutting through the water so fast that it kicked up spray every time it met a wave. Arren tasted salt and felt cool water on his face; turning, he smiled at Kell, who was stood in the stern with his arms outstretched. The wizard grinned back, almost laughing, caught up in the sheer exhilaration of the boat's flight.
Before them, rising like an emerald from the blue-green waters, the isle of Ilien shimmered in the sunlight.
They arrived, as Kell had predicted, early in the evening; together they hauled the boat up above the waterline of a secluded beach, then promptly stripped and threw themselves into the sea. The breakers, still warm from the day's sun, cascaded over their bodies as they laughed and splashed in the shallow water. Then Arren struck out for deeper water, swimming strongly and easily, his supple body glowing in the evening light. Kell followed him, slipping through the water like a fish, his slender form knifing through the waves.
When he judged they were far enough out, Arren trod water, holding out his arms to the wizard. Kell swam into his embrace and they kissed, each tasting salt on the other's lips. For a while the only sound was the roaring of wave upon shore; then the two broke apart and Kell playfully ducked Arren, who surfaced in a flurry of bubbles and a burst of laughter.
After a short battle for supremacy (won by Kell, the quicker and more agile of the two), Kell turned out to sea and spoke aloud in the Old Speech, calling to the essaliel, the foamriders.
A few moments passed; then Arren saw something fishlike break the surface, away to his left, before disappearing beneath the waves once again. Kell smiled and called again - 'essaliel, essaliel' - and suddenly the water around them was full of dolphins.
Arren laughed delightedly as the playful creatures swarmed around him, nudging him with inquisitive snouts and singing their high-pitched song. He reached out to stroke the back of one - its skin was smooth and cool beneath his fingers. It whickered at him in amusement, tossing its head and studying him from the corner of one intelligent black eye.
"I think she likes you." Kell was at his elbow, no longer treading water but now with one arm astride the body of another dolphin; he slid the other arm around Arren's waist, his fingers spread across the sculpted muscle of the boy's stomach.
"That one certainly likes you," Arren retorted, grinning and nodding towards Kell's companion. Kell grinned back, pulling the other boy closer and pressing a kiss on Arren's lips.
Then he dived, long legs kicking gracefully as he propelled himself down underwater. Arren took a deep breath and followed, the pressure making his ears ring as he fought for depth. Dolphins shot past them, their powerful tails and streamlined shape letting them glide through the water as easily as birds flying in the skies. They struck out and down, reaching for the sea bed; Kell touched it first, with Arren following only seconds behind. The water was clear and blue, refreshingly cool as the two kicked off and swam back up towards the air.
Two heads broke surface simultaneously, heralding loud gasps for breath. Arren tossed his head, flicking trails of wet hair out of his eyes. Water streamed down his face, the salt stinging his eyes and parching his tongue. For a moment he was blinded, coughing and spluttering, blinking furiously to try and clear his eyes.
When his vision cleared, he was met by a black eye with a twinkle of amusement in its depths. Then the dolphin rolled and dived underneath him, circling his body and nudging at him with its nose. He laughed and fended it off, careful not to hurt it as he kicked over towards where Kell was treading water.
The wizard gave him a smile that was quickly replaced by a shiver. "It's getting a little cold, you know."
Arren nodded in agreement. A cold breeze had sprung up from the west, chilling their wet bodies and rapidly cooling the sea. "We should head for shore."
They swam side by side, never more than a metre apart, chuckling as the lively dolphins raced past and around them, circling and leaping. The waves carried the two tired boys to shore, depositing them gently on the cool sand.
Kell turned and released the dolphins with a word; Arren joined him in bidding them farewell as the sleek creatures swam away, speeding across the waves.
They dressed in companionable silence, rubbing themselves down before pulling clothes over still-damp skin and hair. Arren went hunting for firewood - not a difficult task on such a driftwood-strewn beach - while Kell unpacked what they needed from the boat. By the time he returned, a cheerful fire was burning in a ring of stones.
Their supper, a simple affair of lamb and vegetables, cooked quickly over the fire, and they ate it as only young healthy boys can - quickly and appreciatively. Then they sat back, letting the fire gently warm them as they talked softly about nothing in particular.
Gradually, as the sun sank in the west and the fire burned ever lower, the talk faltered, then fell away. Shy glances became gentle touches. Kell rested his head on Arren's shoulder; Arren stroked his hair tenderly. Kell pressed his face into Arren's neck; Arren lay down, sliding his hands either side of the wizard's face and pulling him down for a long kiss.
In the waning light the contrast was striking - Arren's dark hair and golden skin against Kell's lighter tone and shock of blonde hair. Anyone watching would have sworn they saw a scene from The Deed of Enlad, that tale of the love of Morred and Elfarran the Fair.
And there on the beaches of Ilien, as the stars came out above them one by one, Lebannen the Young King gently and tenderly took his first lover.
Kell awoke first the next morning, slipping quietly out from under the blanket that had kept them warm against the cool night air. Now it was sprinkled with early morning dew - and so, Kell saw with amusement, was Arren's hair.
He leant down and smoothed the moisture away, careful not to wake his lover. The sky was clear, the morning peaceful; the liquid tones of skylark song and the quiet murmur of wave on sand were the only sounds to disturb the silence as he knelt beside Arren.
Rising, he arched his back, easing out the stiffness there - and smiling at the memory of how it had come about. He pushed his wayward hair back out of his eyes -
- and stiffened again as something on the horizon caught his eye. The sun was well up into the sky, but away below it and to the north there was a great roiling mass of cloud, with lightning flashing deep within.
North and west - Paln.
It was no coincidence that the storm had blown up from that direction, nor that it hung there sullenly, menacing the whole Archipelagan sky. Something was afoot.
Kell walked a little way from where Arren lay and closed his eyes, stretching out his hands in front of him, sending his mind out across the waters to where Paln lay under its veil of cloud. After a few seconds' casting about, he found the source of the power which was causing such a storm.
Five figures, cloaked in black, stood around a fire, swaying and chanting in strange sibilant voices. The fire burned the angry red of banefire, with a black heart that shifted and coiled like some foul serpent seeking to strike. Clouds boiled around the scene, obscuring it briefly before parting again. Kell's stomach churned and his head spun - the sheer power and malevolence of the five beat at him like a great dark wave, threatening to overwhelm him and drag him under.
Then something happened; the timbre of the chant altered somehow, and one of the five cowled figures turned towards him, questing at the air. He strained to catch a glimpse of the face inside the hood, but could see nothing aside from a pair of dark eyes, glinting in the firelight -
Too late he realised his mistake, as those eyes fixed on him and a shrill cry of triumph went up. The figure brought its hands around and began making passes through the air; Kell could feel the power coalesce as the other four followed suit. He tried desperately to shield himself, but with five of them working against him and half his concentration going on the farsight spell, he stood no chance.
The blast came from nowhere - the dark-eyed one simply opened his hands and sent a burst of sheer power straight at Kell. The wizard cried out and instinctively threw up his arms to shield his face -
- and woke up with Arren kneeling over him, his face full of concern, gentle hands stroking strands of sweat-drenched blonde hair out of his eyes.
"What happened? I was woken by a clap of thunder and you were laid unconscious on the ground - are you all right?"
Kell wasn't listening. He could think of only one thing - the cry of triumph that had gone up only a moment before he had blacked out.
'Ilien! We have them!'
With difficulty he persuaded his eyes to focus on Arren's face. The other boy must have seen the fear in his eyes - he fell silent instantly, cradling the wizard's head delicately with one hand while the other brushed his forehead.
"What is it?"
Kell swallowed, forcing the words past the growing lump of terror in his throat.
"They are coming."
The king stepped back, looking the speechless wizard directly in the eye.
"I know what you did for me." The words were fast and low, carrying an intensity like nothing Kell had ever heard before. "The Archmage told me that a wizard changes shape only at great need, for fear that he will be trapped forever in the chosen shape." He moved forward again, catching Kell's face in both hands. "What have I done, that you would risk your life for me?"
His dark eyes held Kell's; the tension, the emotion in the air was palpable. Kell swallowed hard, forcing his dry throat to respond.
"My lord..."
Putting a hand on the back of Kell's neck, the king gently pulled him closer, placing the lightest of kisses on the wizard's unresisting lips.
"Call me Arren."
As if a dam had broken inside him, words began to flood out of Kell's mouth, tumbling over one another in their haste.
"You took me in, made me welcome when I deserved to be turned away. You treated me with kindness, spoke to me as an equal, when I was worth less than a minute of your time. More than that, you were not just my king, but my friend. My lord..." tentatively, he stroked a tendril of hair that hung down over the king's face, "...Arren...whatever I can do, I shall."
In one graceful movement, Arren slid his arms around Kell's back and pulled him close, his dark hair cushioning the wizard's temple, his own face pressed into the other's tousled hair.
Outside in the corridor, the guard for whom Kell had worked illusion smiled, nodded to himself and gently closed the door.
Eventually Arren loosed his tight embrace, still holding Kell close but standing face to face. He detached one hand from the other boy's waist, bringing it up to brush away a stray golden lock from Kell's face.
"We are late for council," he murmured, and Kell started. Indeed, the sun was up, and its golden rays painted the walls and ceiling with intermittent gold.
The two drew apart, not without reluctance, and with a last backward glance Arren departed to his own chambers to prepare himself for the day ahead.
"...Uny and Namien are willing, if the Lord of O is agreeable."
Kell started, aware he had been daydreaming. Fortunately, no-one else on the Council seemed to have noticed.
The discussion was an important one about a new trading agreement between the southerly Inner Lands, but though Kell knew it was important his attention constantly wandered. Arren sat not far away, at ease and yet every inch the king; from where Kell sat he could see Arren framed against a window, his dark eyes flicking back and forth as opposing speakers traded points. His fine cheekbones and handsome face captivated Kell, who found he could not tear his eyes away from the striking young man.
A chuckle ran round the room as one of the speakers made a humorous remark about his opposing number; during the brief and gentlemanly argument that followed, Arren's dark eyes sought out and held Kell's green ones, and he flashed the wizard a warm smile that made Kell's stomach turn over.
Finally the Council reached a decision, voting overwhelmingly to support the new agreement, and the court began to break up and go their separate ways in the deepening twilight.
Arren and Kell walked together through the cool corridors of the palace, climbing the long spiral staircase at the heart of the tower until they reached Kell's room.
Arren stopped on the threshold, resting his head against the doorframe. "A good day."
Kell turned, smiling. "A good day, my lord."
"Arren," chided the other boy, laughing quietly.
Kell walked back towards him, taking his hand and shyly intertwining their fingers. "Arren, then. Or should I call you Lebannen?"
Arren shook his head. "Everyone knows my true name. Because I could not give it to you, I gave you my old use-name - something no-one else calls me." He squeezed Kell's hand gently. "Because you are special."
Kell blushed, lowering his eyes. "I'm honoured. In return," he moved closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "my true name is...Oriel."
Arren started - in the Old Speech, oriel meant the hazel tree, just as his own true name, lebannen, meant the rowan. Then emotion flooded over him as he realised the magnitude of the gift he had been given, for there was nothing of greater importance to a wizard than his true name. "Thank you," he murmured, holding the other boy tightly, tears misting his eyes.
For a while they stood there, saying nothing, the only sound that of distant waves breaking upon the shores of Havnor Bay. then they drew apart, slightly awkwardly, and Kell began to make ready for the night ahead.
Arren turned to leave, then stopped. On impulse, he said quietly, "I'll miss you."
Kell stopped in the act of turning back his bedclothes. "I'm sorry?"
"Tonight, I mean." The king looked down at the floor. "I haven't dreamed of the Dry Land in four nights. Sleep was easy with you there, comforting me." Abruptly, he shook himself. "I'm sorry. Good night."
"Goodnight," Kell responded, as Arren left for his own rooms.
Kell couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the king, tormented by his nightmares, tossing and turning in his bed. Should I go to him? Do I dare?
For a long time he wrestled with himself in the darkness, and then his words came back to him. Whatever I can do, I shall.
Pulling his cloak around himself, he slipped quietly from his bed and made his way along the corridor, lighting his path with the tiniest spark of werelight. When he reached Arren's door, he knocked gently, then steeled himself and went in.
The sight that met his eyes caused him to stop just inside the room, his cloak falling unheeded from his shoulders. Arren was leant against the far wall, arms folded, his face turned towards the open window. He was shirtless; the light from the fire burning quietly in the grate cast shadows outlining the lean muscles of his sun-tanned body.
Realising Kell was in the room, he turned his handsome, dark-eyed face upon the wizard and gave him a smile full of warmth.
Arren pushed himself away from the wall and walked slowly towards the other boy, marvelling at the wizard's lissome build and graceful bearing. He was slender and attractive, his fair skin and golden hair enhanced by the warm firelight. Without his cloak he was clad only in a pair of short trousers which, together with his big green eyes, made him look young and innocent. His body was slim and lightly muscled, boyish shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and long legs.
Wordlessly, Arren slid his bare arms around the younger boy's warm body, pulling him close. He tilted Kell's chin up, then leant down to meld their lips together.
The kiss was long and deep. Kell put his arms tentatively around Arren's shoulders; in return, Arren trailed his fingers through Kell's golden hair. Their tongues met and embraced, hesitantly at first, then more daringly as Kell caressed Arren's cheek. The fire flickered in the grate, casting its light across the young couple as they shared for the first time the intimacy of another's touch.
Kell wrapped his arms more tightly around Arren, snuggling down under the sheets and the thick, soft eiderdown. Arren chuckled, resting his head on Kell's shoulder and watching the boy drift slowly into sleep.
Licking his fingers, he reached out and snuffed the candle by the bedside. Now the only light in the room came from the dying embers of the fire, murmuring softly to themselves in the hearth.
Pressing a last tender kiss to Kell's forehead, Arren pulled the quilt up around his shoulders and promptly fell asleep. His dreams that night were not of the Dry Land, but of green fields and white mountains, trickling streams and quiet beaches, soft laughter and sparkling water running off golden skin...
Kell yawned and stretched, waking slowly from sleep. Warm arms were around him and soft hair spread across his chest; smiling, he reached down and brushed a finger over Arren's cheek. He was rewarded by a dark eye opening and turning to look up at him, laughter already waking in its depths.
"Good morning," he chuckled, tracing the line of Arren's jaw with the back of his finger.
"Morning already?" the other boy groaned jokingly, pushing hair back out of his eyes. "It can't be."
"But it is," Kell assured him, rolling easily out of bed and starting to gather up his clothes. Behind him, he heard the floor creak softly as Arren reluctantly hauled himself out of bed. Then there were quiet footsteps, and then silence.
Throwing his armful of clothes over the nearest chair, Kell turned to find Arren leaning by the window, exactly as he had been the night before, the morning breeze stirring his hair as he gazed out into the sunrise.
Crossing quietly to where he stood, Kell slid his arms gently around the other boy's waist and rested his chin on Arren's shoulder. "What do you see?"
Still staring out across Havnor Bay, Arren smiled ruefully. "I can't see it, but I know it's there - a land that hates me, that refuses to believe that I'm anything other than a stuck-up country prince with ideas above his station."
Sensing that there was something Arren wasn't saying, Kell rephrased his question. "What do you want to see?"
Surprised by the young wizard's perception, Arren chuckled softly; then his eyes misted over with remembrance. "I remember when the Archmage and I rode from Selidor to Roke on the back of Kalessin, eldest and greatest of dragons, and I remember the faces of the Masters of Roke when we arrived. They knew, then, as I knew, that I would take the throne. And before that, the other dragon - the golden one, Orm Embar - called me...agni Lebannen. Lebannen, the king. As if they knew all along..."
Kell nodded, tightening his arms around the other's waist, understanding. "And you wish that a dragon would come from the west, and speak to the Lord of Paln as he did to you...agni Lebannen..."
The young king turned a sad smile to his wizard. "Is that as arrogant as it sounds? That dragons should do my bidding..."
Kell murmured something Arren did not catch, low under his breath, taking one hand from Arren's waist and making a strange, curving pass through the air.
Turning, Arren found a perfect replica of Orm Embar, no longer than his forearm, stood upon the windowsill. He laughed in startled delight, stretching out his hand to run his fingers down the scaled back. The tiny dragon stretched his neck, spreading golden wings that shimmered in the sun, and spoke.
"Agni Lebannen."
Then it bowed its head, once, and vanished in a flare of sunlight. Amazed, Arren turned back to Kell, who shrugged apologetically.
"An illusion, nothing more."
"Nothing more?" Arren was incredulous. "It was beautiful, and perfect..." Running out of words, he reached out to touch Kell's cheek. "Thank you."
Kell turned his head away. "It was less than nothing. Any sorcerer could have done the same." He turned a face full of sudden anguish on the older boy. "I'm supposed to be your court wizard! And what have I done since I came here? A few illusions, a misused Change spell...nothing of any importance." He almost choked on the unexpected lump in his throat. "I'm useless to you."
Arren grabbed him firmly by both shoulders. "You're anything but useless. Would another wizard have been able to give such sound advice in Council? Would another wizard have used a Change spell so selflessly, risking his life just to let me sleep a little easier?" He pulled Kell in close, till their faces were mere inches apart. "Would anyone else have spent last night with me like you did?" He looked at Kell seriously from a distance a little under an inch. "Heavens bless the Master Patterner for sending you to me."
"I need a holiday."
Kell looked up from the book he had been reading with a near-incredulous smile on his face. It was noon in the palace, and the Council had adjourned for lunch; the two of them were alone in the palace gardens, Arren idly trailing his hand in one of the fish pools as he munched an apple. Kell was sat up against the trunk of a huge, ancient oak tree reading a book - or he had been, until Arren's sudden declaration.
"A holiday? But you're the king - you can't just lock up and leave the key under a stone in the front porch."
By way of answer, Arren threw his apple core at the wizard. It never reached its intended target - Kell flung out a hand, fingers spread, and the core stopped in mid-air.
Grinning, Arren adopted a mock-chiding tone. "Isn't that a misuse of your powers?"
Kell considered this for a moment. "No. But this probably is." With a flick of his fingers he sent the apple core flying back the other way, pinwheeling through the air until it bounced off the king's nose.
The incensed boy jumped on him, and there followed a brief, energetic wrestling match that ended with the two of them laid on the cool grass under the tree, trying to get their breath back.
"I wasn't joking, you know," Arren managed eventually. "I need a holiday."
Kell rolled over to face him, propping his chin on one hand. "But who will rule while you're away?"
Arren lay on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up through the tree branches at the cloudless azure sky. "The Long Dance takes place in a week - people will be too busy preparing for it to be bothered with anything the king says. I can leave Prince Sege to deal with anything that happens while we're away."
There was just enough emphasis on the word for Kell to notice. "We're?"
Arren raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, we're. Did you think I'd go alone?"
Kell blushed. "Won't you be taking...oh, I don't know, a retinue or something? Servants, bodyguards..."
Arren made a face and waved a hand dismissively. "Sycophants and hangers-on...no thanks." He reached forward and caught Kell's face between his hands, smiling as the wizard instinctively leaned into the touch. "Why would I need them, when," he brushed Kell's blonde hair back from his face, "I have you?"
Kell coloured an even deeper shade of pink. "Where would we go?"
Arren sat back, crossing one leg underneath him. "Nowhere on Havnor. I want to get away, even if it's only for a little while. We can't go too far, either - we must be back for the Long Dance. I was thinking..." He cast a sideways glance at Kell, gauging the other's reaction. "...Ilien?"
The unspoken question was answered as Kell's eyes lit up. "Truly? We could go to Ilien?"
Delighted by the response, Arren chuckled and reached out to touch Kell's arm. "Would you like to?"
"I would love to."
"See there - the Hunter and his Quarry." Kell's pointing finger picked out the stars as he named them. "Over there, the Mother," a twinkling yellow star, "the Maiden," a much brighter, much smaller blue-white point of light, "and the Crone," a sullen red cinder burning in the sky. "Up there..." He trailed off as he realised his audience was no longer paying attention.
The two boys had all but eloped from the Palace, mentioning their departure to none save Prince Sege and Eilel, the kindly lady who had first shown Kell around the Palace and who was a good friend of the king's. Then they had slipped away before the Council could be roused and Arren coerced into staying - or worse, into making the holiday a formal Royal Excursion. Pausing only to stock a small but sturdy sailboat with sufficient food, water and clothing, they had rowed out of Havnor Great Port at first light and hoisted sail.
Now the two lay together in the bottom of the boat, covered by a thick woollen blanket. The boat was prevented from drifting by both a holding spell and a sea anchor, a long tapered tube of waxed leather designed to create sufficient drag to keep the boat in place. Kell had also crafted an illusion, sustainable even while he slept - to the casual eye, they would look like nothing more than a patch of open sea.
The sky was clear, and until a few moments ago they had been watching the stars come out one by one. Then Kell, feeling Arren's eyes upon him, had ceased his naming and turned to face the dark-haired boy.
For a long time neither of them spoke. Kell was captivated by his companion's eyes, the silver stars reflected in their sable depths. Arren was savouring the moment - the simple intimacy that came with such closeness, the comforting presence of another lying less than a hand's breadth away.
Then a cool gust of wind blew over them, waking them from their mutual contemplation. Arren pulled the blanket up around his bare shoulders and shivered.
"How much further must we go?" He smiled. "Not that I would have this journey end any sooner than it must, but if we are to spend much time on Ilien, we ought to reach it soon."
Kell stretched out a hand to touch Arren's cheek. "With you near I could summon the magewind even in a dead calm. We are already more than halfway there - we should arrive late tomorrow."
Arren brought his hand up to touch Kell's elbow, then used the contact to pull them closer together until he could feel the wizard's warm breath on his face. "Until tomorrow, then. Good night."
Tentatively, Kell inched forward until he could place a soft kiss on Arren's cheek; he was reassured by warm arms encircling him. "Good night."
They fell asleep quickly, lulled by the gentle motion of the waves and the simple comfort of being in another's arms.
Arren shook his head, sending his hair streaming out before him in the wind. Kell's sudden ability to call the magewind was nothing short of miraculous - though he would take none of the credit. When Arren had complimented him he smiled, shook his head and said,
"Without you, I could never raise the magewind; now the sail never hangs slack. Your presence alone is the reason - my heart flies like an eagle, and the magewind lifts its wings." Then, realising what he had said, he ducked his head in embarrassment and refused to look up until Arren hugged him and kissed him soundly.
Whatever the reason, with the magewind in her sail the boat was fairly flying, her bow cutting through the water so fast that it kicked up spray every time it met a wave. Arren tasted salt and felt cool water on his face; turning, he smiled at Kell, who was stood in the stern with his arms outstretched. The wizard grinned back, almost laughing, caught up in the sheer exhilaration of the boat's flight.
Before them, rising like an emerald from the blue-green waters, the isle of Ilien shimmered in the sunlight.
They arrived, as Kell had predicted, early in the evening; together they hauled the boat up above the waterline of a secluded beach, then promptly stripped and threw themselves into the sea. The breakers, still warm from the day's sun, cascaded over their bodies as they laughed and splashed in the shallow water. Then Arren struck out for deeper water, swimming strongly and easily, his supple body glowing in the evening light. Kell followed him, slipping through the water like a fish, his slender form knifing through the waves.
When he judged they were far enough out, Arren trod water, holding out his arms to the wizard. Kell swam into his embrace and they kissed, each tasting salt on the other's lips. For a while the only sound was the roaring of wave upon shore; then the two broke apart and Kell playfully ducked Arren, who surfaced in a flurry of bubbles and a burst of laughter.
After a short battle for supremacy (won by Kell, the quicker and more agile of the two), Kell turned out to sea and spoke aloud in the Old Speech, calling to the essaliel, the foamriders.
A few moments passed; then Arren saw something fishlike break the surface, away to his left, before disappearing beneath the waves once again. Kell smiled and called again - 'essaliel, essaliel' - and suddenly the water around them was full of dolphins.
Arren laughed delightedly as the playful creatures swarmed around him, nudging him with inquisitive snouts and singing their high-pitched song. He reached out to stroke the back of one - its skin was smooth and cool beneath his fingers. It whickered at him in amusement, tossing its head and studying him from the corner of one intelligent black eye.
"I think she likes you." Kell was at his elbow, no longer treading water but now with one arm astride the body of another dolphin; he slid the other arm around Arren's waist, his fingers spread across the sculpted muscle of the boy's stomach.
"That one certainly likes you," Arren retorted, grinning and nodding towards Kell's companion. Kell grinned back, pulling the other boy closer and pressing a kiss on Arren's lips.
Then he dived, long legs kicking gracefully as he propelled himself down underwater. Arren took a deep breath and followed, the pressure making his ears ring as he fought for depth. Dolphins shot past them, their powerful tails and streamlined shape letting them glide through the water as easily as birds flying in the skies. They struck out and down, reaching for the sea bed; Kell touched it first, with Arren following only seconds behind. The water was clear and blue, refreshingly cool as the two kicked off and swam back up towards the air.
Two heads broke surface simultaneously, heralding loud gasps for breath. Arren tossed his head, flicking trails of wet hair out of his eyes. Water streamed down his face, the salt stinging his eyes and parching his tongue. For a moment he was blinded, coughing and spluttering, blinking furiously to try and clear his eyes.
When his vision cleared, he was met by a black eye with a twinkle of amusement in its depths. Then the dolphin rolled and dived underneath him, circling his body and nudging at him with its nose. He laughed and fended it off, careful not to hurt it as he kicked over towards where Kell was treading water.
The wizard gave him a smile that was quickly replaced by a shiver. "It's getting a little cold, you know."
Arren nodded in agreement. A cold breeze had sprung up from the west, chilling their wet bodies and rapidly cooling the sea. "We should head for shore."
They swam side by side, never more than a metre apart, chuckling as the lively dolphins raced past and around them, circling and leaping. The waves carried the two tired boys to shore, depositing them gently on the cool sand.
Kell turned and released the dolphins with a word; Arren joined him in bidding them farewell as the sleek creatures swam away, speeding across the waves.
They dressed in companionable silence, rubbing themselves down before pulling clothes over still-damp skin and hair. Arren went hunting for firewood - not a difficult task on such a driftwood-strewn beach - while Kell unpacked what they needed from the boat. By the time he returned, a cheerful fire was burning in a ring of stones.
Their supper, a simple affair of lamb and vegetables, cooked quickly over the fire, and they ate it as only young healthy boys can - quickly and appreciatively. Then they sat back, letting the fire gently warm them as they talked softly about nothing in particular.
Gradually, as the sun sank in the west and the fire burned ever lower, the talk faltered, then fell away. Shy glances became gentle touches. Kell rested his head on Arren's shoulder; Arren stroked his hair tenderly. Kell pressed his face into Arren's neck; Arren lay down, sliding his hands either side of the wizard's face and pulling him down for a long kiss.
In the waning light the contrast was striking - Arren's dark hair and golden skin against Kell's lighter tone and shock of blonde hair. Anyone watching would have sworn they saw a scene from The Deed of Enlad, that tale of the love of Morred and Elfarran the Fair.
And there on the beaches of Ilien, as the stars came out above them one by one, Lebannen the Young King gently and tenderly took his first lover.
Kell awoke first the next morning, slipping quietly out from under the blanket that had kept them warm against the cool night air. Now it was sprinkled with early morning dew - and so, Kell saw with amusement, was Arren's hair.
He leant down and smoothed the moisture away, careful not to wake his lover. The sky was clear, the morning peaceful; the liquid tones of skylark song and the quiet murmur of wave on sand were the only sounds to disturb the silence as he knelt beside Arren.
Rising, he arched his back, easing out the stiffness there - and smiling at the memory of how it had come about. He pushed his wayward hair back out of his eyes -
- and stiffened again as something on the horizon caught his eye. The sun was well up into the sky, but away below it and to the north there was a great roiling mass of cloud, with lightning flashing deep within.
North and west - Paln.
It was no coincidence that the storm had blown up from that direction, nor that it hung there sullenly, menacing the whole Archipelagan sky. Something was afoot.
Kell walked a little way from where Arren lay and closed his eyes, stretching out his hands in front of him, sending his mind out across the waters to where Paln lay under its veil of cloud. After a few seconds' casting about, he found the source of the power which was causing such a storm.
Five figures, cloaked in black, stood around a fire, swaying and chanting in strange sibilant voices. The fire burned the angry red of banefire, with a black heart that shifted and coiled like some foul serpent seeking to strike. Clouds boiled around the scene, obscuring it briefly before parting again. Kell's stomach churned and his head spun - the sheer power and malevolence of the five beat at him like a great dark wave, threatening to overwhelm him and drag him under.
Then something happened; the timbre of the chant altered somehow, and one of the five cowled figures turned towards him, questing at the air. He strained to catch a glimpse of the face inside the hood, but could see nothing aside from a pair of dark eyes, glinting in the firelight -
Too late he realised his mistake, as those eyes fixed on him and a shrill cry of triumph went up. The figure brought its hands around and began making passes through the air; Kell could feel the power coalesce as the other four followed suit. He tried desperately to shield himself, but with five of them working against him and half his concentration going on the farsight spell, he stood no chance.
The blast came from nowhere - the dark-eyed one simply opened his hands and sent a burst of sheer power straight at Kell. The wizard cried out and instinctively threw up his arms to shield his face -
- and woke up with Arren kneeling over him, his face full of concern, gentle hands stroking strands of sweat-drenched blonde hair out of his eyes.
"What happened? I was woken by a clap of thunder and you were laid unconscious on the ground - are you all right?"
Kell wasn't listening. He could think of only one thing - the cry of triumph that had gone up only a moment before he had blacked out.
'Ilien! We have them!'
With difficulty he persuaded his eyes to focus on Arren's face. The other boy must have seen the fear in his eyes - he fell silent instantly, cradling the wizard's head delicately with one hand while the other brushed his forehead.
"What is it?"
Kell swallowed, forcing the words past the growing lump of terror in his throat.
"They are coming."