It was Rouden’s idea to disrupt the usual broadcasts from Resedna and replace them with ones more favorable to Tansharian independence. Rouden, a bright-eyed and handsome former Thasali harem boy, guessed that many Resedna residents would be receptive to information that painted the Thasali royal family in a not-so-favorable light. Thasali thought the people loved them, but, in truth, they feared them. He was gambling that there would be some who were tired of being scared and could be brought over to the Tansharian cause.
Rouden and Ankran, a childhood friend and fellow supporter of Tanshar independence, took over the small broadcast station without force. This station broadcast mostly to Tanshar, although the signal reached as far as Resedna’s outskirts. After they arrived, Rouden made sure the two station workers were taken to a safe house for the day. If questioned by Thasali, they could claim they had been forced out. They would be released unharmed when Rouden and Ankran were done.
They replaced the canned programming from Resedna with a speech about Tanshar independence, information about how much water Thasali took, and protest songs from a local singer. Rouden had written and edited much of the programming. They barricaded themselves in the station with weapons, food, and water, enough to last them the day or more if need be. They anticipated Thasali would have an answer to their provocation, but the barricades turned out to be unnecessary.
“Nothing? Thasali haven’t responded at all?” Ankran made impatient gestures as they walked away from the station late that night. He was talking to Jonas, another independence supporter, who joined them once they’d left the station. “They ignored us.”
Jonas shook his head. “Nothing.”
“There should have been something by now!” Ankran shot Rouden a look of distress.
Rouden had seen Ankran like this before, frustrated by Thasali indifference, entitlement, and inaction. They didn’t feel threatened. Therefore, they did nothing.
“What? You wanted them to bomb us before we even got to really make some noise? This is only just the start and Thasali know it,” Rouden said, clapping Ankran on his muscular back. “We voted for independence. We’re going to get it.”
“Good point. Good point.” Ankran turned to Jonas and started to tell him a joke about a Thasali prince trying to cross the road.
Ankran seemed mollified for now, but Rouden knew they’d have to keep up the momentum if they wanted to keep people like Ankran motivated. Fortunately, Sege Wyke, leader of the rebellion, had other things in store to let Thasali royals know that they were serious about independence for Tanshar. Rouden had been ecstatic when Sege Wyke hired him as an aide on his staff after Rouden had given a fiery speech about independence a few years back at a council meeting. Wyke had steadily given him more responsibility until he hired Rouden to be his confidential secretary.
Wyke was a lowlander from Kimini marshland. Rouden was a highlander from the mountains. The lowlanders and highlanders of Tanshar had a history of discord. The lowlanders viewed highlanders as high, dry, and snobbish. The highlanders viewed lowlanders as wet and slow. None of that mattered, however, in the unified battle for independence.
Except when it came to Rouden. Because Rouden had once been a harem boy, those who were active in the independence movement were suspicious of him. They mocked the tattoo on his wrist, a band of Thasali royal colors, marking his status. They challenged his sexual prowess. They assumed he’d been sent back to Tanshar as a Thasali mole. Truthfully, he came home mostly because he missed it. He’d had enough of palace life, and all the risks that came with it. He slowly proved himself a loyal Tansharian and was forever grateful to Wyke for believing in him and his abilities. He couldn’t forget either that Ankran had always stood by him and never believed he was a Thasali mole. They had auditioned for the harem together. Ankran hadn’t made it and joined his father on one of the fishing boats. While Rouden earned his tattoo and luxuries for him and his family, Ankran earned the scars from hooks and fishing nets that dotted his body and the weatherbeaten skin common to those who made their living on the water.
They caught only an hour or so of sleep before joining others to continue the work to redirect the flow of water from the pipes first built by the formerly royal Corceus family. Once Thasali had taken possession of Tanshar and its freshwater lakes, engineers built more pipes and doubled the capacity of the old Corceus ones to get water flowing to Resedna, the Thasali capital city. They took water that Tanshar needed, that should have been theirs.
“How goes the work?” Rouden asked when he, Jonas, and Ankran arrived at the dugout where Sege Wyke and others had set up as a base near Tanshar’s border with Canochte, a province that was also once ruled by the Corceus family.
Wyke, who was sitting on a short stool, nodded toward an opening in the dugout. “Things are going well in there. Soon, the water will belong to us. It will be unfettered for the first time. Well, since a very long time.”
“Just let me know when we’re going to block off the pipes to Resedna. I wanna be there when we choke them off.” Rouden sounded jubilant and was referring to a later part of the plan that called for them to blow up the point immediately before the water passed from Tanshar to Canochte. Thasali were so selfish they didn’t even share the water with those in Canochte and other provinces where the pipes ran through the fields, sometimes dried out from drought. The water was so close but untouchable.
“Since it’s underground, it won’t be as spectacular as you might think,” Wyke said. He smiled and broadened his large chest, covered with short, curly dark hair.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s not spectacular,” said Rouden, taking a seat on the damp ground near Wyke. “What matters is that we’ve come this far. We’re so close to being free of any royal family. We’ll be able to plot our own course, make our own destiny. I want to see it.”
Everyone within earshot cheered wildly and nodded in excitement.
“We need Rouden to keep our spirits up,” said Wyke as he stood. “The road to independence is a hard one, and keeping our independence once we’ve won it will be hard, too. And, yes, you should see it.”
Rouden, Ankran, Jonas, and several other rebels made their way through a tunnel to the pipe. Rouden took in as much detail as he could by the dim light thrown off by the glow rock torches they carried. He let the dampness sink into his bones. Though he shivered, he knew this would be an important turning point in the fight for independence. He didn’t want to forget any of it. Several rebels were already at the junction. One of them was Mattix, a burly, muscular man with thighs that could crack glow rocks. Rouden’s intense affair with Mattix had ended badly about a year ago. Rouden still got a bit of a thrill when he saw Mattix, but it had to be restrained. Mattix smiled and waved at him, but made no attempt to come over and talk to him. A few months ago, this would have distressed Rouden. He had never wanted the relationship to end, but now he felt relief that it had.
The men who had put the implosion bombs into place were making a last-minute inspection of them. Rouden felt the anticipation and excitement of his fellows. The vote for independence taken by the council was an important provocation, but stopping the flow of water to Resedna would be the thing that Thasali, ensconced safely in their palaces and royal enclaves, would not be able to ignore.
“We just received a report that our friends have turned off the water to this pipe,” said Mattix.
Sege Wyke said, “It’s time.”
Rouden, Wyke, and the others retreated to a safe distance into the tunnels that fanned out from the junction. Moments later, Rouden heard a dull roar. Rocks fell and clanged against the pipe. Wood splintered and cracked.
Once the noise had subsided, they came back to the junction. Through swirls of dust, Rouden saw rubble. He helped pull some of the rocks away to reveal part of the pipe, which now had small fissures and big cracks. Jonas, Ankran, and Mattix banged on the pipe with hammers until the bigger cracks became wide openings. The water left in the pipe before the flow was turned off
came gushing out. Rouden, Wyke, and a few other men leapt out of its path. Rouden laughed as the water rushed past. This was just the beginning of the freedom to come. He could feel it.
The gush soon ended. Wyke produced a flask from his coat and passed it around. When it got to Rouden, he took a long sip. The grain alcohol, whose chief ingredient was clean, fresh water from Tansharian lakes, felt hot and smooth as it slid down his throat. He would have liked to sit and enjoy this delicious feeling for a little while longer, but Wyke instructed them to get a few hours’ sleep and return to base afterwards.
As they reached the entrance to the tunnel, Wyke placed a warm, wet hand on Rouden’s shoulder. He waved the others off with the words, “Be well.”
Wyke and Rouden watched the first rays from one of the planet’s two suns break through the night sky. Soon both would be high in their broad magenta sky, and Thasali would be waking up to reservoirs running low without being refilled. They would awaken to the news that Tanshar was serious about independence and keeping its resources.
“We did a great thing tonight,” said Rouden. Wyke’s hand moved downward, brushing Rouden’s shoulder blade and then the small of his back. His arm landed gently to encircle Rouden’s waist.
“We know that Thasali will come at us in some way now. We just don’t know how. I can’t think of a better person to have as my trusted hand as you, Rouden. I want you as my first adviser.”
Rouden couldn’t believe it. He was happy as an aide. He would have been pleased to have any role, any part in securing freedom for Tanshar, but now he would be right at the heart of the action.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. Now go get some rest. We’ll meet again,” Wyke said as he patted Rouden on the back.
Rouden felt as if he could float all the way back to the little shack he had shared with Ankran, Jonas, and two other rebels for the past few months. They had built the shack in a hidden corner of land owned by Jonas’ family and moved into it so as not to compromise their loved ones. They didn’t want Thasali to be able to get at them through their relatives. Rouden’s mother had passed, but he didn’t want anything to happen to his father or his siblings. The others had relatives to protect as well.
When he got there, the suns were continuing their ascent. The air smelled of the morning dew on the leaves of the Elodie trees. The shawgull birds were squawking out their morning love songs. Just a few wispy clouds dotted the sky.
He opened the door to the shack to see his friends settling down for sleep. He told them that Wyke had made him his first adviser.
Jonas mumbled something that sounded like “teacher’s pet,” while Ankran congratulated him. After eating a quick breakfast of bread and a couple of pieces of salted troubrer fish, Rouden slept for maybe an hour. He tossed and turned. He was too excited to sleep. He looked at his wrist, marked with Thasali colors. He could have had the tattoo removed. He wasn’t a harem boy anymore, but no one did that. That would be like giving up a limb. Besides, his time in the harem had mostly been good, except for the incident that led to his leaving for his own safety. He and his family had both benefited. He’d had opportunities that his fellows couldn’t even dream of, but for the first time, he felt true freedom was within his grasp.
Chapter Three
Leaving the Royal Compound
The Matriarch had just finished telling Amyar that under no circumstances was he to go to Tanshar to help put down the Tansharian rebellion. She referred to Tanshar as “a festering backwater” and an “unfit place for a Thasali prince.” Although Amyar and his older brothers had all received some military training, they’d never been allowed to go out with any of the Thasali military branches. Amyar chafed at the restrictions placed on him simply because he was royal, especially because he would never be king. There were too many older brothers in line before him, but he’d received more military training than all of them. He might as well do something interesting with all his training, education, and privilege. Also, palace life had become boring. He could have whatever he wanted and whomever he wanted, although he hadn’t taken advantage of the harem boys in ages. The men there were all so beautiful but too docile. He wanted a challenge.
“Mother, please reconsider your decision. I can be a better adviser to you and my brothers if I get out and see for myself what this rebellion is like. I’m not one of your generals. I’m your son. I will give you unvarnished reports from the field.”
“Are you saying my generals lie to me, my son?”
The Matriarch gave Amyar a penetrating look, the one he recalled from his childhood when his mother heard a report from his tutors that he wasn’t working to the fullest of his abilities. It was a look that turned him to jelly then. His insides didn’t feel like jelly now, but he was still a bit nervous. He cleared his throat.
“Not lie to you, mother, but perhaps they may tell you what they think you’d like to hear.”
The penetrating look again.
“My generals have been trained in our military academies, which I know are the best on the planet. They know better than to tell me what they think I want to hear.” She smiled a little. “You have yet to convince me, my son.”
Amyar looked down at his shoes, wondering what argument would appeal to his mother. He needed to figure out what would make her see him in a different light.
“Of all my studies, I enjoyed military tactics and strategies the most. I know I’ll never rule Thasali, but I want a role in keeping her safe and free from insurrection. I don’t want to be a perfumed prince. I want more than that. I want to matter to Thasali.”
When he came to the end of his reply, his mother regarded him with something he didn’t remember seeing in a very long time: pride. She recovered herself and tried to not let it show too much, but he had seen it.
“Well said, my son.”
She turned her attention to some papers on her desk. Amyar stood uncertainly. He coughed.
The Matriarch glanced up, looking as though she had forgotten Amyar was there, but he knew his mother was always aware of him and her other children. She leaned back in her chair and smiled her rare, crooked grin. She didn’t speak for several moments.
“You really want to go to this place?” she asked.
Amyar nodded and gestured toward the large picture window in his mother’s private office.
“If not Tanshar, there’d be some other place I’d want to go. I trained for this. Why shouldn’t I put my training to use? Why shouldn’t I protect what is rightfully ours?”
Again, his mother took her time responding. She leaned over and spoke into an intercom on her desk. “Come.”
A moment later, a woman, middle-aged and plain, walked into the office and stood next to the prince in front of the Matriarch’s desk.
“Take a memo. Prince Amyar will accompany a detachment from the Thasali Royal Army to the province of Tanshar immediately. He will be attached to General Sumutu Eppon’s negotiating team. He will report directly to General Eppon and will obey General Eppon’s orders for the duration of this assignment. Thank you.”
The woman curtsied briefly and left.
Amyar couldn’t believe it. His mother was actually going to let him go. Before he could say anything, the Matriarch started speaking again.
“You’re shocked, but I suppose you would be. Eppon took notice of you a few seasons back. He asked whether I thought you were ready for his tutelage. At the time, I said no, but now I believe you are ready.” She paused. “Does that suit you, my son? You won’t be able to be, what did you say? Oh yes. A perfumed prince.”
Amyar imagined becoming a hero of the frontline, crushing Tanshar’s dreams of independence through force. He thought negotiating sounded dull and useless. With their vote for independence, the Tansharians had made clear their desire to break away from Thasali rule. He couldn’t imagine how negotiations would possibly accomplish anything. Also, he didn’t relish being stuck at a table with smelly rebels, ol
d Thasali royals, and career army officers. Still, it would get him out of the palace. Once he got to Tanshar, he could figure out how he could get in a position to see more action.
He bowed. “Thank you, Mother.”
His mind reeled with excitement and trepidation. His older brothers had teased him about being a toy soldier when he expressed his interest in the military and being in a real fight, but they, like most Thasali royals before them, rarely, if ever, left the compound. When a royal did leave the palace grounds, it was under heavy guard and only for specific state occasions. The Matriarch had the most experience outside the walls of the palace and even her forays outside the compound were meticulously scripted and choreographed. Amyar would be the first Thasali royal in generations to leave the palace to participate in any kind of military action, if he managed to escape the negotiation table. His brothers probably wouldn’t be impressed by his role as General Eppon’s assistant or whatever title he’d be given. Telling his brothers could wait, however. The first person he wanted to tell was Haerek Chadan.
A short walk took him straight to the harem section of the royal compound. He found Chadan’s office empty. He asked a passing servant when Chadan would return. After being told that Chadan’s poetry class was ending soon, Amyar decided to wait. His patience was rewarded a few minutes later when Chadan returned.
“My prince, what brings you here?” Chadan bowed to Amyar, who then embraced him.
“I’m going to Tanshar.” He pushed his long hair out of his face. He should get that cut before his journey.
Chadan raised his eyebrows. “Your mother has sanctioned this?”
Amyar nodded. “She has put conditions on it. She’s also put me under General Eppon. He’s leading the negotiating team. He’s a good man. He was one of my tutors.”
Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set Page 19
