Chained: A Sci-Fi Alien Invasion Romance (Garrison Earth Book 5)

by V. K. Ludwig

  A Jal’zar thundered toward us on his mount, lifting a brow at me before he reined up beside Krevon. “Urizayo, as soon as your scout arrived, we prepared everything as you requested.”

  “Well done, Njekuti,” the Warlord said and nodded, then glanced over his shoulder at me. “I understand you are exhausted.”

  “You almost broke my nose.”

  A grin pulled his lips taut. “First, we will feast. After that, the females of my tribe will help you, Naney, and Zerim put yonis up in our tree.”

  As if on reflex, my head tilted back as my gaze wandered to those highest branches that disappeared into the night sky. “Uh-huh.”

  “Perhaps we will install a ladder for our newest member.” Reining his yuleshi to a large enclosure made of woven fence, he gestured his warriors to dismount. “Njekuti, make certain everyone gathers around. Has my son arrived?”

  “Katedo left Noja as soon as he heard and should arrive soon.”

  “Good, good.”

  I dismounted, then walked over to Naney and helped her do the same. “How are you feeling, kunazay?”

  Her eyes flicked nervously across the group of Jal’zar coming together by the largest fire pit. “I haven’t been part of a tribe in so long…”

  I took her into my arms, placed a kiss onto her forehead, and glanced at Zerim. Never in his life had he belonged to a tribe, and it showed in the way he fumbled his hands, staring at the ground as he walked over.

  I gave a tug on his horn. “We’ll make it work.”

  He suckled on his lips as if he didn’t quite believe it, and neither did I, but our options had been limited. At the Warlord’s gesture, we followed behind him. Naney’s steps slowed with each consecutive one, while Zerim pressed his tail against the inside of his leg.

  I placed my hand onto his shoulder and urged him toward the large platform lined with furs. “No more hiding, Zerim. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  His nod wobbled as if he weren’t quite certain what he’d wanted anymore. “Everyone’s staring at me.”

  And the area had gone eerily quiet, chants replaced with open mouths and the occasional murmur. “They’re staring at me, not you.”

  Warlord Krevon stepped onto the furs and seated himself at the center, waving us over. “Come. Tonight, you will feast here with me. We will drink, we will speak of the past, and we will pray to Mekara for a better future.”

  I ushered my family over, where they lowered themselves around the low table before Krevon. Carved runes decorated the wood and golden platters with baked goods already stood about, along with empty mugs.

  The Warlord clapped his hands twice, as if the dead-silent crowd needed any quieting, and let his deep voice rumble through the night. “Warden Zavis, his mate Naney, and his son Zerim are part of this tribe now.”

  A communal gasp rippled through the Jal’zar before us like a wave. Instead of a violent roar at the end, it ebbed into silence. There was shock, yes, but no upheaval, and the Warlord’s earlier words came to mind.

  Only the strong survived Solgad.

  Only the best of them got to lead.

  Where I had been born a warden, Krevon had proven his competence as a leader over decades. No matter their opinion, the tribe likely trusted his judgment. That eased my mind, if only a little.

  “Zavis has Jal’zar blood on his hands,” he continued before he lifted his hands high, palms facing toward his tribe. “I have the blood of Vetusians on my hands.” He lowered one hand and gently pat Zerim’s shoulder. “This young male carries both bloods within him, proving that it mixes as easily as the water with the salt that pushes through ungiving rock.”

  “Touched by Mekara,” a female shouted from the group.

  Another one stepped forward. “It’s a sign from the goddess herself.”

  “Perhaps,” Krevon said, lowered his hands into his lap, then let his voice shatter the returned silence from anew. “I will tolerate neither hate nor malice underneath my tree. The war has been over for many sun cycles, and tonight, we will celebrate the first step toward true peace. A tribe is but a large family. You will receive them as such. You will teach them. And together, we will learn harmony.”

  Odd yelps and chirps resonated from the females, and the stomps of the males vibrated the soil underneath the soft furs.

  My muscles tensed. “What does that mean?”

  The answer came as Naney clasped her arm around mine, her entire body giddy with excitement. “They’re celebrating our arrival.”

  “Feast!” Krevon’s shout caused his tribe to split up underneath excited chatter before they poured mokhot and helped themselves to food. “Ah… come here, urizaya.” He gripped the waist of a female, her brown hair graying around her temples, and pulled her onto his lap. “This is Neshta, my kunazay. Mother of my son Katedo.”

  I dipped my head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Despite her age, a youthful giggle rolled from the back of her throat as she folded her legs, her orange gaze finding mine. “We welcome you.”

  Several young females hurried over with platters in their hands, which they placed before us on the table. Charred meat and grilled roots steamed into the night, and the bowls of red and purple berries added some tartness to the scents of grease and spices.

  For a moment, I stared at the food, my muscles as stiff with uncertainty as those of Naney and Zerim. What I’d expected from coming here, I couldn’t even say, but not how the Warlord’s mate poured Naney some mokhot. Not how a young female handed Zerim a bowl with a shy smile, finally causing him to lift his head.

  But I certainly hadn’t expected how Krevon handed me some sort of round bread with a sly grin on his face as he said, “What did you expect? That I would chain you up? Shame you? Break your nose for good this time?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Good things never come easy,” he said. “Hating is easy, but forgiving is difficult. Fear not, Zavis da taigh Broknar. My words were sincere, and you are part of my people now. Ah… there is my son!”

  Katedo walked up to us, his black hair braided tightly between an impressive set of horns, and he bowed. “Father. I came as soon as your scout reached Noja.”

  “Zavis, this is my son Katedo, who—”

  “Destroyed at least three of our ships.” My voice carried a shocking amount of admiration as I took in that young Jal’zar who had strength in his body and intelligence in his blue eyes. “I didn’t expect you to be so… young. How old were you when you brought those stargazers down by luring each one into a damn ambush?”

  “Barely older than a child,” he said with a smug smile he must have inherited from his father, then waved his hand at Zerim. “Your son, I presume?”

  “Zerim.”

  “Who has lived in hiding all his life, smart as his mother was,” Krevon added, locking his eyes with his son’s. “No doubt he has much to learn about our ways and would appreciate the guidance of a seasoned warrior.”

  “He’s an excellent hunter.” Naney’s voice held less vigor than it did all those sun cycles ago, but the pride was unmistakable. “Zerim never returns empty-handed from a hunt, and can flesh and gut an ushti faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  Katedo gave his father a curt nod, then looked at my son. “Truly?”

  “I’m pretty good,” Zerim said.

  “Have you tamed your own yuleshi?”

  Zerim shook his head. “Not yet. Leaps of wild yuleshis attract freeraiders and tribes, so we stayed away from them.”

  “Well, I would say it is time you tamed your own mount and gave it a name.” Katedo placed both hands on his hips and jutted toward an outcropping. “There’s a small group of yuleshis I spotted on my way here. Now that they are asleep, we can get a good look at them. Let me show you, and perhaps one of them is to your liking.”

  “Nobody tames them better than Katedo,” Krevon said. “He can teach you, Zerim.”

  Zerim’s eyes snapped straight to Naney. “Ju
st a quick look?”

  When Naney’s eyes sought out mine, Katedo said, “You have my word that no harm will come to him. I trust my father’s judgment. If he calls for peace and harmony, then I will do everything it takes to ensure it.”

  Krevon leaned over and placed his hand atop Naney’s. “My father was Warlord, and his father before him. Seven generations of leading this tribe under the sign of honor. I give you my word, shimid, your son is safe.”

  Naney hesitated for another second before she finally nodded. “Don’t wander off too far.”

  When Zerim left with Katedo, I wrapped my hands around Naney’s waist and pulled her tightly against me. It took several mugs of mokhot to lure her out of her state of fright, while I discussed the occupation with Krevon.

  And what an odd conversation it was. Here we were, a warden and a Warlord, complementing each other on this strategy and that small victory. Eventually, he told me about how freeraiders kept attacking his tribe whenever he settled too close to the mountains. I told him about the issues we faced as we tried to include Earth women to the warrior stratum.

  “Look,” Naney whispered and clasped my chin, guiding my eyes to where Zerim sparred with another young male. “What is he doing?”

  “Showing him three ways to disarm someone.” And he did it with a smile on his face, his spine straighter than I’d ever witnessed as his opponent gave a playful punch against his arm. “Look at your son making friends.”

  She leaned her head against my shoulder. “Our son.”

  “Yes, our son.” I stroked through her braids, counting them but losing track at eleven. “I know this isn’t how we’d planned this. I’m sorry for letting you down and botching this so completely.”

  She nuzzled my beard, stroking the tip of her nose through the bristles. “You didn’t let us down. We might not be on Earth but we’re together, aren’t we?”

  I tugged on my shirt, the fabric tattered from suns of abuse. “Which makes me wonder… Do I have to start wearing a loincloth now?”

  Her eyes widened as if she pictured it right then, and her lips curled upward as if it amused her. “What better way to show that you’re part of the tribe?”

  Neshta, the Warlord’s mate, eventually squatted before us. “You must be tired. Let me show you to our yoni so you may wash while our females prepare your nabus.”

  Naney was quick to abandon her mug, although she couldn’t help herself and checked on Zerim once more. We followed the urizaya along a trample path. It led us through thick shrubs, the thorny twigs illuminated by green and blue fluorescent flowers. Instead of a fissure, we found a cave entrance at the end of it. Inside, the rock opened into several chambers, and I counted at least three bodies of water.

  “One of the young females will bring you fresh clothes,” she said, then turned away and left.

  “This is wonderful.” Naney dipped her toe into each yoni before she settled for the one where steam wafted across the surface. “They say Krevon’s tribe is the largest one.”

  I stripped out of my ragged clothes and slipped into the water, hissing when it burned my cuts and chafed skin. “It’s the largest mother tree I’ve seen to date. Their tents and huts span as wide as some of the smaller sub-districts on Earth.”

  When I leaned my back against the edge, arms spread wide to both sides, the end of Naney’s braids brushed over my forehead. I looked up into her stunning purple eyes, and my stomach hollowed as if time had catapulted me into the past.

  I dug my hands into her braids and pulled her lips down for a kiss. “I love you.”

  Her tail wrapped around my neck, for once not to choke me, but to keep her steady as she slid down my body and into the water. She clasped my waist between her slender legs, and carefully scooped water over my battered face.

  “And I love you,” she said, rinsing off remnants of blood. “There’s no shame in what we have. No sin.”

  I wetted my hands before I wiped them over her beautiful form, washing away the hardship, the past, the doubts. “No matter how kind Krevon makes himself out to be, he is smart, and his motives are political. No matter how his tribe might receive and accept us, I will always be Zavis the Chainsmith. Your mother told me all that time ago, hasn’t she? Didn’t she say something about chains?”

  “Chains forged within the goddess.” Naney cupped my cheek and brushed her thumb through my beard. “I thought about it ever since you left. The thing is, Zavis, I don’t think she was talking about chains that confine.”

  “What else can chains do?”

  “Connect.” Her finger first tapped against her sternum, then against mine. “Zovazay.” She pressed her forehead against mine, her breath shaky as she said, “My kunozay, I think Mother meant DNA chains.”

  Twenty-Five

  Naney

  Achy fingers ran along the stiff ubi rod, bending the material until it turned pliant enough to slip through the loop I held with my other hand. I worked the ends into a reliable knot before I inspected the nabu.

  Neshta sat across from me on an ushti fur and let her eyes flick over the hem of the unfinished silk dress she held between her hands. “Your weave is strong and reliable. Who taught you?”

  I rolled up the new nabu before I placed it on the pile of others. “My mother.”

  It was the first time in sun cycles I mentioned her without an ache in my chest. Learning about her final moons on Odheim and how she hadn’t been alone when she died… it gave me peace.

  “Zerim brought us not one but two ushtis this morning,” Neshta said. “Young males in our tribe argue over who is his best friend. Everyone wants the title, so they flesh his furs without a single complaint.”

  As if on reflex, my eyes wandered to the congregation of young Jal’zar to my left. Males wrestled their tails, strutted their chests, and rammed their horns against each other in a boastful display of strength before the females.

  Of course, Zerim fought particularly fiercely to impress them, which made me frown. The females’ heat didn’t affect him yet at this age. I could only imagine the trouble we would have with him once it did…

  “So young, and already so eager to take a mate once he is mature.” Neshta continued on her dress, squinting at how the needle wove through the fabric. “My kunozay told me he hasn’t come into his visions yet?”

  “I’ve never heard of a shimid developing it after their tenth sun cycle.”

  She pursed her lips. “But then again, neither has any of us heard of a male shimid.”

  “True.”

  I grabbed more ubi rods and started on the next nabu since we’d lost some during the last storm. True to his word, Warlord Krevon had accepted us into his tribe. Most had welcomed us, though some couldn’t leave the past behind quite so easily, no matter how Zavis applied himself.

  My kunozay made a poor hunter, yet he rode out with the other males each morning and helped them spot game. He gutted tendetus, cut up meat, collected fuel for the fires, and helped when they erected wind barriers. And he did it all with a smile on his face, almost as if he enjoyed it. And perhaps he did.

  Zerim pulled me out of my thoughts when he walked up to me, bloody fingers pressed to his mouth.

  I tossed the ubi rods to the ground and rose. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened,” he mumbled against his palm, head sinking just as a first drop of blood collected at his chin. “Can you see if this needs stitches?”

  I clasped his chin between my fingers and angled his face toward the sun. A fissure cut across his lower lip, bleeding so badly it collected on his lower gums and tainted his small fangs red.

  My tendons snapped tight.

  If that didn’t look like a bite…

  I brought his gaze to meet mine. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  I cocked my head and unleashed the full weight of my stare on him. “Zerim…”

  His upper lip peeled back but he didn’t dare hiss at me. “I tried to kiss her.”


  A flinch went through my arm and I released his chin. “What? Kiss… kiss who?”

  His head turned ever so slightly as if to glance over his shoulder back at the group of young Jal’zar, but he stopped as if he’d thought better of it. “Wenja. I like her. I tried to kiss her. She bit me.”

  I smacked his horn. “As was her right because she clearly didn’t want you to. You can’t just… go and kiss a female, Zerim.”

  “Zavis said Jal’zar females always yap and hiss, and to just kiss her and ask questions later.”

  A gnashing sound resonated between us from how I ground my fangs together. I grabbed his horn and yanked him behind me, ignoring how he tugged and groaned.

  Everyone stared as I stomped past the huts toward where Zavis stretched hides together with a group of males. Most of them hissed and backed away when they saw me, while some giggled.

  “Your son has a busted lip,” I said and let go of Zerim as the other males walked off in their wisdom. “Did you tell him to just kiss a female and ask questions later?”

  Zavis’ eyes darted to Zerim as he threw his hands up. “I thought you and I had a deal? We don’t tattle on each other, remember?”

  “What was I supposed to do when I’m bleeding like this?” Zerim asked, shoving his toes through the ash. “It’s your fault. You said she would let me kiss her if I showed dominance and to just do it.”

  Zavis wiped a hand over his beard before he placed his hands on the leathers of his loincloth. “She bit you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Did you pull back?”

  Zerim pointed at his busted lip. “Uh, yeah?”

  “Well then you didn’t do it right,” Zavis said. “You need to kiss past the pain and—”

  I slapped the end of my tail against the back of his head. “Are you insane? He’ll get himself killed by a young female before his first rut like this.”

  Zavis grabbed the end of my tail and, with one tug, pulled me against his chest. “Empty promises.”

  “I mean it, Zavis!” I struggled against the clasp of his arms, peeling lips over fangs each time I hissed. “This is not how to court a female.”