Magic Ink IV: Ken and Kell
Copyright© 2012 by Uncle Jim
Chapter 18
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 18 - In this book of Magic Ink, Ken and Kell set out for Ireland in the Other Reality to find Wives. Things quickly get a lot more complicated than they thought they would as the Cousins are required to pursue separate paths to find their mates, and soon find themselves in unforeseen adventures.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft ft/ft Consensual Romantic NonConsensual Magic Slavery Heterosexual Science Fiction Oral Sex Anal Sex Pregnancy
New characters appearing in part two:
Airmid Mac Sweeney
Almha's twin, Kell's Wife, 5'-1" tall, 104 pounds, 34C-20-33, 16 years old, dark strawberry blond hair, green eyes, only a few freckles, but very cute.
Almha Mac Sweeney
Airmid's twin, also Kell's Wife, 5'-1" tall, 104 pounds, 34C-20-33, 16 years old, dark strawberry blond hair, green eyes, only a few freckles, but very cute.
Kell's Story:
After Ken boarded the ship, I walked up the quay a ways toward the market before turning to watch them leave. His ship was soon out in the middle of the river, and grew smaller and smaller as it made its way out into Dublin Bay. I finally turned back toward the market to find something to do until my ship was ready to leave the next day.
Walking toward the market, I had never felt so alone in my life. When you come from a large family and clan like ours, there is always someone around that you know. Even if you were out plowing, doing homework, or working at the printing plant, there was always someone from your family, or a Cousin, Aunt, Uncle, even a Grandparent, around. You would know just who they were by the feel of their Talent.
Here in this Dublin at this time, there were some minor Talents casting preservation spells and doing other mundane work with Magic. There were the Masters at the various houses of the wealthy and some at the college, but that was basically it, and few of them were all that powerful. There was no one that I really knew, or could count on.
I needed to lose this blue funk, but the stalls in the Market Square held little of interest, as Ken and I had already eaten and seen the various things for sale there. There was, however, an ale house with an outdoor area where one could sit and watch the goings on in the square. After looking it over and noticing the sun's direction, I picked a table that would be shaded for most of the rest of the day, and ordered a mug of ale which soon arrived.
It only required one sip to realize that this was not good ale. In fact, it was terrible ale, and that was when I remembered that I had promised Ken to return the O'Connell's Ale firkin to the Otherworld. I sent the ale in my mug to the River Liffey for the fish to enjoy, and drew a cool mug of ale from the firkin still at the FitzGerald house. This was so much better, and I sat back to watched the goings on at the Market. It really was quite interesting.
After a time, I noticed a man who visited several busy stalls, but didn't buy anything. Instead, he slyly stole something from each stall, and placed it in the large bag at his side. I used a spell to return each item to the stall that he had taken it from. When he walked away and found the bag filled with the stones that I had replaced the items with, he was at first confused and then furious. It did him little good, as he couldn't figure what had happened, and he eventually went away a very unhappy fellow.
In the meantime, I had been sipping my ale and keeping the mug cold with a spell. The waiter had come around several times, but always found the mug full and cold. He would just scowl at me. Later that afternoon, I was approached by several women looking for a good time. (the world's oldest profession) Of course, I would need to pay for that and also buy them ale. I just told them that I was a poor Apprentice. Several spoke to the waiter who apparently confirmed that I had only bought the one mug of ale, and I was soon left in peace to continue my observations of those in the market.
As evening approached, the market began to close down and many of the stalls, along with their owner's merchandise, were removed. I was still sitting there when Captain O'Donnell happened by.
"It's good that I happened across you tonight," the Captain told me, taking a seat and ordering an ale. "We leave on the morning tide."
"You really don't want to drink that," I told him, after the waiter had delivered his mug and departed. I sent the contents of the mug to the river again before refilling the mug with O'Connell ale.
"Try that instead," I told him and sipped my own. He did and a smile quickly spread across his face.
"Where did you get this? It's certainly not the usual ale here," he quietly asked.
"It's from the firkin that Ken and I brought here last night for dinner at the FitzGerald's Palace. We had dinner with the Prince and his intended last night."
"And just why would the Prince have dinner with two Apprentices?" he demanded, not believing me.
"Because our last name is O'Connell."
"O'Connell is a common enough name in Ireland," he stated.
"True, but our Parents are famous and that made the difference."
"Famous? O'Connells!?" he asked, still in doubt.
"You've heard of the war with the Persians about twenty years ago, haven't you? That was our Parents and our clan."
"Oh ... the one at Frankfurt?" he asked unsure.
"Yes, right outside of Frankfurt."
"But they were powerful Wizards. Why would you be here traveling as an Apprentice?"
"I have to see someone in Letterkenny for my Mentor."
"Ah ... a duty journey! Yes, there are many of those here in Ireland. But how did you get the ale?"
"The firkin is still at the FitzGerald Palace. I just tap it by Magic and draw enough to fill the mugs."
"How much is left?" he asked eagerly.
"I'm not sure, but enough for tonight."
"Let's go to my ship. You don't have a room to return to, do you?"
"No, I was going to find someplace to sleep later."
"Come to the ship. You can sleep in one of the cabins there, and bring that firkin with you," he told me. We finished our mugs and left the pub after I had grabbed my backpack. As we approached the ship, I transferred the firkin to the quay, and we rolled it ahead of us. It was mostly empty by now having only a gallon, or two of ale left in it. We carefully moved it up the gangplank and into the Captain's cabin. He had some mugs there.
"Now this is the way to relax!" he told me, as we sat in his cabin. Later the ship's Mate joined us. The two of them consumed a lot of ale that evening, while I just sipped mine. They really enjoyed it, but I was sure that they would need the hangover spell in the morning. Later that night, they were snoring, and I used the Mate's cabin for the night. The hammock type sleeping arrangements took a bit to get used to, but I managed.
We were all awakened by the boisterous return of the drunken crew early in the morning. I rolled out of the hammock with little aftereffects from the ale. The Captain and the Mate were both hungover and in a foul mood to boot. I stopped them, as they exited his cabin.
"Just a minute, Captain, and I'll fix that hangover," I told him, to a glare of disbelief, but I had already started the spell on both of them. In less than a minute their face changed to looks of amazement.
"How did you manage to do that?" the Captain asked, after another minute.
"It's just a simple spell that our clan has used for a long time," I told him. "Your crew will never know that you spent the night drinking," I added. He and the Mate straightened their clothes before they went to deal with the rowdy crew.
Breakfast was brought aboard a short time later by the crew member who was also the cook. He had picked it up at the market this morning. The last of the cargo was loaded after breakfast. It consisted of several medium size locked chests that were delivered by Mr. O'Flaharty and several of his assistants. The chests were taken directly to the Captain's cabin and he had to sign for them.
We cast off on the outgoing morning tide shortly after that, and were soon in Dublin Bay and then the Irish Sea, where we turned onto a northward course. The Captain approached me on deck soon after we had settled into our course.
"You know, lad, that ale is a fine thing when you are ashore, but it's not a good thing when you are at sea. Don't mention that firkin to the crew. They had enough while in Dublin," he told me.
"I've already returned the firkin to the people that we got it from. They always demand the empty back as they are expensive," I told him to a slightly disappointed look from him.
For the first day and a-half, we only made about four miles an hour, and had to tack often to maintain even that. After passing through the North Channel between Ireland and Scotland, we turned westward and picked up a much better breeze that increased our speed. The Captain told me that we passed Malin Head at the tip of Inishowen during the morning of the third day at sea and we soon entered Lough Swilly sailing down it to the River Swilly and Letterkenny.
The Swilly quickly narrowed, and became very twisty as we approached Letterkenny. After we finally docked at the quay, I bid Captain O'Donnell farewell. He needed to see about delivering the cargo that Mr. O'Flaherth had entrusted to him. The rest of the cargo could wait until tomorrow.
Captain O'Donnell and his Mate had told me a lot about Letterkenny over our meals during the voyage. Letterkenny is from the Celtic 'Leitir Ceanainn', or 'Hillside of the O'Cannons'. The O'Cannons were the last of the ancient chieftains of Tir Chonaill. The O'Cannon sept declined in power after the death of Ruairi O'Ceanainm (Rory O'Cannon). The O'Cannon clan remained subservient to the O'Donnell clan, the Kings of Tir Chonaill from the early thirteenth century.
The current town of Letterkenny had begun as a market town in the early 1600s. It had been established on the site of an earlier Celtic settlement. Initially, Letterkenny was a largely agricultural town surrounded by extensive cattle and sheep grazing on what was at the time untilled hillside. The waters of the Atlantic had not yet retreated from the basin of the Swilly, whose estuary extended almost to where Newmill was presently. Proof of this was easily seen in the alluvial flat lands between the location of the Old Town settlement and the present Port Road in Letterkenny.
By 2170 AC (After Cingetorix), the Atlantic had long since retreated from the Estuary of the Swilly, but Letterkenny was still a market town. Cattle and sheep still grazed on some of the hillsides, but farming had become the more important sustainer of the community.
The town had expanded from its original location, now called Old Town, to cover an area of nearly a square mile on both sides of the Swilly. Letterkenny Castle was started in 1625 and is located south of Mount Southwell on Castle Street. There are presently no remains of the original castle that had been in the area.
Captain O'Donnell had recommended that I try the Laird's Hotel for the night. It is located opposite the Market Square on Main Street, and I easily secured a room there for the night.
"We don't see many Apprentices here," the man at the hotel's check-in counter told me.
"My Mentor sent me to see someone near here," I told him. The room was small and on the third floor. There was little in it besides a bed with a lumpy mattress, a small stand with a basin and pitcher, and a chamber pot. There was a small window, and the bed had a blanket and comforter. After setting down my backpack, I quickly cast my wards in the walls, floor and ceiling. Following that, I used a spell to send all of the bugs and other vermin to feed the fish that I had been told were plentiful in the River Swilly.
Having secured a place for the night, I returned to the Market Square to find dinner. There were pubs along the far side of the square and one served food as well as ale. I had an early dinner and a bit of their ale. The local brew had a different taste than what I was accustomed to, but wasn't too bad. As I prepared to leave another customer stopped me.
"If you leave now, you'll miss all of the entertainment," he told me.
"Entertainment?" I asked, not understanding.
"There will be a fiddling contest later tonight," I was told. It seems that County Donegal is famous for the quality of its fiddle players and singing groups.
"I've been traveling for several days and need some sleep. I'll return later. When will they start?" I asked the several others who had gathered around to listen.
"They'll start after dark. Probably around the ninth hour past noon," I was told.
"That's several hours from now. I'll be feeling better by then and return."
"You may not be able to get in then. These events are very popular, and it will be crowded by the time they start," I was told.
"I'll have to take my chances," I told them and returned to the hotel. Back in the room, I was asleep in a matter of minutes, but awoke several hours later feeling refreshed.
The room was an inky black, as little light was available to enter the room through the small window. Casting a spell for fire, I found and lit the candle on the small stand with the basin and pitcher. I used the chamber pot, and then washed my face and hands before sending the contents of both containers to the river.
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