“I hope he’s as good as you say he is.” Chadan motioned Amyar to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk and then took a seat in the chair beside him.
“Of course he is,” said Amyar, puzzled. “He’s helped keep us safe for so many years. He doesn’t have the highest rank right now, but I think that will change once we take care of Tanshar.” Amyar felt full of pride at the thought of helping maintain the family empire.
“It isn’t Eppon I’m concerned about, Amyar. It’s the fact that negotiation has never been an arrow in the Thasali quiver, especially when dealing with a rebellious province. Thasali negotiate with equals, not their subjects. Are you sure this is a negotiation situation?”
Amyar couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on his face.
Chadan said, “But you don’t want negotiation, do you?”
The prince clenched his lips, trying to rein in his giddiness. No, he didn’t want negotiation. He wanted to use his military knowledge. He wanted a fight.
“Tanshar is such an important province. We depend on its water. It is ours,” said Amyar.
He thought he saw a flash of condescension on Chadan’s face, but then it disappeared so quickly that he couldn’t be sure what he saw. Chadan shook his head and then changed the subject. They chatted about Chadan’s work and harem gossip.
“Take good care of yourself,” said Chadan as they said their farewells. “Military theory can be very different from the reality of war.”
By the time Amyar got back to his quarters in the compound, his brothers knew he was leaving the next day to go negotiate with the rebels of Tanshar. They were surprised their mother was letting him go and teased him, calling him General Eppon’s water boy. A few years ago, Amyar might have felt insulted or embarrassed by his brothers’ teasing. Now he felt nothing of the kind. He was still filled with pride about what he was about to do. They were probably just jealous anyway. He focused on going to Tanshar.
He sat up in bed late into the night, reading up on Tanshar. Once he’d finished, he was unable to get to sleep. He was anxious and excited about what he was beginning to think of as the first great adventure of his life. He hadn’t been with a harem boy in ages, but he needed one now. He ordered a boy to help him relax. He was pleased that the charismatic redhead he’d seen at the auditions at the harem the other day was available.
When the young man arrived a bit later, he looked sleepy. Amyar hoped his tiredness would be contagious. The man let his robe drop to the floor. Amyar traced his fingers down the lines of the man’s chest and abs. He was so beautifully defined and strong. The fine reddish-blond hair that covered his muscular body was soft. Amyar flopped on the bed and gave the signal.
The young man touched his tongue to the tip of Amyar’s flaccid cock, and it started to grow. The man was good. He knew when to apply more pressure with his tongue along the shaft and when to squeeze Amyar’s balls. Perhaps the harem school had improved that part of the curriculum in which the novitiates learned how to give sexual pleasure? Maybe he was just naturally gifted.
Amyar had never considered how the harem school was set up and operated. It had never mattered to him. All he knew was that, as a Thasali prince, he could have his pick of harem boys whenever he wanted. The redhead was very good indeed. When the young man brought the prince to climax, Amyar groaned loudly, pushing the harem boy’s head down firmly.
The handsome young man knelt before Amyar, his head bowed, waiting for the prince to dismiss him.
“Look at me,” Amyar said. He was no longer restless. He felt peace. Sleep was at hand.
His dark brown eyes drooping at the corners, the young man looked up.
“What’s your name?”
“Erron, my prince.”
Amyar couldn’t tell what the man, Erron, was thinking, but he thought he saw a little fear in his eyes. “I heard you singing. At the audition. You were very good.”
Erron let a small smile appear on his lips before resuming the neutral look his masters at the harem school probably taught him to use when in the presence of Thasali royals.
“Thank you, my prince.”
“You also did well tonight.” Amyar disliked the stilted nature of the conversation, if it could be called a conversation. Erron looked to be only a few years younger than him, yet they had nothing in common, and the gap in status could never be breached. He had served Amyar well, but he knew he wanted something Erron would never be able to give, something he could barely put into words.
“You can go, Erron.”
Erron bowed his head again, stood, and backed out of Amyar’s presence.
As he lay in bed after Erron’s departure, Amyar wondered if he would ever find a true mate. He knew many young men who, while not royal, were aristocratic and, therefore, more suitable for him. None of them had caught his eye, though. Many of them were good looking, wealthy, and fit, but were otherwise lacking something. He fell asleep at last, hoping he could get enough sleep to be alert for everything that awaited him in the morning.
Chapter Four
Meeting the General
The next morning Amyar boarded a hovertrain to Tanshar. This new technology was supposed to be vastly better than the underground trains that had cut through the planet for centuries, and the Matriarch was excited by their potential. Amyar recalled her talking extravagantly at a family dinner recently about how hovertrains could revolutionize commerce and trade in Resedna and its territories, although at the moment they were only to be used by the military.
Most important to Amyar, the hovertrains ran above ground, which meant he’d see so much more than just tunnel walls.
His excitement, however, was dampened by the banality of their interior. They were designed for the military, but not necessarily for royals. He didn’t have his own room. Rather, he shared a large cabin with General Eppon and other senior staff. The soldiers who would provide protection during the negotiations rode in a carriage behind them. A part of him wished he could be with the soldiers. They weren’t his social class peers, but they were his age. Given who he was, he wondered what he’d actually talk to them about. He also wondered how they’d regard him.
General Eppon, with gray hair at the temples and gray peppered throughout his short brown hair, was older than the prince, but he came from an aristocratic family as did the other senior officers, a few of whom were distantly related to Amyar. He’d told Amyar just before they boarded that they’d received word that the rebels had blocked off the pipeline sending water from Tanshar to Resedna. The prince was incredulous. How could the Tansharians think they’d gain the upper hand by doing things like that? he mused.
“You read the materials I sent over last night. Any questions?” asked Eppon, jarring Amyar out of his contemplation. The train sped through the countryside. He was farther from the pleasures and protections he’d enjoyed his whole life than he’d ever been. He couldn’t just order a harem boy, and he was glad of that. The clothes on his back, what he had in his suitcase, the general, and others on this trip would have to take care of all of his needs. He was ready for this challenge.
“What are the chances that they’ll accept our terms?” Amyar asked. The terms were generous by Thasali standards because the water was so valuable. All Tanshar had to do was restore the water flow and forget all these silly thoughts of independence. In return, Thasali would not cut off food and energy supplies. They would not overrun Tanshar with troops instructed to kill and destroy as much as possible. Peace would return.
Eppon smiled, his eyes twinkling. “The real question is how deep does the push for independence go? Are the rebels representative of the population as a whole? Or is it just a small group of loud rabble rousers?”
“You don’t know?”
“At this stage, no. Once the negotiations get underway, it’ll be much easier to gauge the rebels’ will and see if we can bend it to our advantage.” The general paused and gave Amyar a stern, though kind, look. “My prince, I recommend th
at you remove your ring with the Thasali crest from your hand. I don’t want the Tansharians to know you’re a prince. That might be dangerous.”
Amyar looked down at the ring on the third finger of his right hand. The clear blue gemstone set in it shone with a brilliance that had made him gasp when the Matriarch presented it to him when he was younger. She had told him then that its shine would dim only when Thasali no longer reigned. With some reluctance, he removed the ring and put it in his pocket. His hands felt light. He felt even further away from the perfumed prince he didn’t want to be. The scenery provided an exciting diversion from thoughts of the upcoming negotiations. The farmland growing fruit for Thasali dinners was in full bloom. The rivers flowed. The small settlements, and larger towns, all festooned in some way with Thasali colors, whizzed past his vision.
The train silently glided through air. Whatever noise was outside, it couldn’t penetrate the compartment. Amyar saw people, but they were fuzzy blurs. He tried to imagine the expressions on their faces as the hovertrain hurtled by. They must have been as full of awe and wonder as he was. He wondered if they had any idea about the rebellion in Tanshar. What media was available would be heavily redacted by Thasali royal censors. It was important to keep the peace. They probably had no idea as they went about their good, honest work.
After a last glance at the view, he settled back down in his seat and tried to concentrate on the conversation Eppon was having with another member of his staff, a man with shaggy hair and an air of diffidence. The conversation wasn’t particularly interesting, so Amyar’s mind drifted back to last night when he couldn’t sleep and Erron massaged his prick with his hands and mouth and brought him to release. The young man had been so skilled that even the memory calmed him down. An officer took a seat across from him. It was Oshone Wera, an aristocrat full of confidence and elegance. One of Amyar’s ancestors had granted land and money to Oshone’s family generations ago in gratitude for some heroic service. This had elevated all of them to the aristocracy and made the Wera family fierce Thasali loyalists.
“My prince. Enjoying the journey?” Oshone’s eyes glittered with delight and eagerness. Like other members of his family, Oshone had the same deep bronze skin coloring that made him striking.
Amyar had been acquainted with Oshone since they were boys. They were nearly the same age, but as his family wasn’t royal, Oshone enjoyed a degree of freedom that Amyar could only dream of. Oshone’s parents were high-level diplomats, too, so he had traveled to other realms, kingdoms, and territories around the planet, giving him experience that Amyar envied more than he could say. The envy he felt had been a barrier for the prince to be better friends with the handsome man.
“I am, Wera. I’ve never experienced anything like it. So smooth.”
“So formal, my prince? Please call me Oshone. All my friends do,” he said. “You’re right about this being a smooth ride. So much better than using those horrid xoxobeasts or chugging under the dirt in a train.”
“Yes. And please, call me Amyar.” It made the prince happy to say that. “Oshone, have you been to Tanshar?”
Oshone leaned back in his seat. “I have, but it’s been a long time. I went there on holiday with my family. We stayed at a house Thasali keep for diplomats and other officials. It’s on one of the smaller lakes. I remember swimming in the lake with my brother and sisters.”
“So you don’t know much about what could have led to this crisis?”
Oshone shrugged with an air of indifference. “They don’t like giving us their water. Other than that, they are happy members of the empire.”
Amyar was disappointed when Oshone turned the conversation to other matters, like the fact-finding mission he’d gone on with some civilian government officials to a kingdom halfway around the planet. He paid attention as best he could, but his thoughts returned to last night. The sex had been better than he had hoped.
*~*~*
Their arrival at the Thasali military compound near the Tansharian capital of Vandvoda would have been completely underwhelming for Amyar but for the reactions of some of the local military personnel and other staff to the hovertrain. Once the vehicle had stopped, the people outside ran their hands over the gleaming metal. They rolled under the air space that held the vehicle a couple of feet off the ground. They stared at it, wordless, with open mouths. He was grateful the hovertrain kept the spotlight away from him. He was just another member of General Eppon’s staff, at least for the moment.
They exited the train without fanfare and made their way to the officers’ quarters in the heavily guarded compound, which was comprised of short, grey, and dull buildings. Like most of the military and administrative buildings in Tanshar, the compound had originally been built by the Corceus royal family. Other than switching out the Corceus royal seals and coats of arms for the Thasali versions, little else had been changed when Tanshar was transferred into Thasali hands.
When Amyar arrived at his room, he judged it as serviceable. It had been previously reserved for Corceus royalty, but even before their downfall they weren’t that powerful globally. The bed was slightly smaller than the one at home. The ornamentation was dingy, but the prince reminded himself that he was on a military mission. Some sacrifices would have to be made.
He directed the soldier carrying his luggage to put his things away. The soldier gave him with a puzzled look. Such a look and hesitation in Resedna would have led to immediate punishment at the minimum. A look like that to the Matriarch would have led to execution.
But the soldier was handsome with none of the doe-eyedness that characterized the boys of the harem. His black hair was cut short. His shoulders were broad and muscular. They locked eyes for a moment, in a brief impasse about what to do with Amyar’s luggage.
After a few moments, the soldier, no doubt wanting to return to more military tasks, shrugged and started putting away Amayar’s things.
“You’re quite handsome,” Amyar observed. The soldier mumbled something, put away Amyar’s favorite bright purple robe, and made his exit. Amyar lay down on the bed alone. He dozed for a few minutes, marveling at the amazing adventure this trip had already been and what he expected it to be. He even dared to imagine coming up with an idea during the negotiations that changed everything in their favor and brought peace for decades. He would be a hero.
A knock interrupted his fantasy, and he was summoned to Eppon’s suite next door. There he met with the general and other senior members of the negotiating team. Amyar was struck by how many of them there were, at least ten. They were deferential to him as befitted his royal status, but otherwise paid him little attention.
They probably thought that he was far too green to be of any use in the negotiations. He looked forward to proving them wrong, but that didn’t make Amyar feel better about his presence only being tolerated and not celebrated. After all, few royals left Resedna, let alone the palace, to help make the world a better place.
The meeting covered tactics, mostly, like who would say what and when and how they’d react if the rebels did this as opposed to when the rebels said that. It wasn’t that interesting. He really wanted to get on with the more important work.
He picked up something from the desk that caught his eye. It was a slender item, shaped like a stick. Black in color, it emitted a bright pinpoint of light when a tiny button at one end was pressed. He had a glow torch of his own, but it wasn’t as small and compact as this. Its light didn’t shine as brightly either. He wondered if these were only available to military personnel, like the hovertrain. He would have to talk to the Matriarch about having them made available to royals as well.
He felt a tap on his arm. He looked up, startled, and met the stern gaze of Captain Ishlir Timendum, one of Eppon’s senior advisers and a distant cousin of Amyar’s. Unthinkingly, Amyar dropped the glow torch into the pocket of his trousers and gave his attention once more to the discussion of negotiation tactics.
After the meeting broke up, Amyar went b
ack to his room to get ready for bed. He was restless and thought he might delay getting into bed a bit longer. Maybe a walk around the compound was in order? He’d sat for so long on the train and in that meeting. He needed some fresh air. The compound was probably the safest place in Tanshar right now, so a short walk wouldn’t do him any harm.
As he walked out of his room, he thrust his hand in one of his trouser pockets and discovered the little glow torch. He didn’t want Eppon to think he’d stolen it, so he went back to Eppon’s room. He knocked on the door but received no reply. The door was unlocked. He slowly opened it and went in to put the torch back, hoping that the general wouldn’t have noticed it had ever been missing.
When he approached the desk, he saw documents that hadn’t been there before. They were maps, but didn’t look like any of the ones that had been included in the cache of documents that were supposed to help familiarize him with the issues related to Tanshar. He assumed he wasn’t given access to them because he was new to the team. These looked like the sort of maps that none but the highest in Thasali security services would be able to examine. The maps depicted in great detail the various pipelines that ferried water from Tanshar to Resedna. There was also information about rebel positions as well as Thasali military and security service locations. He left the suite quickly and quietly, still intending on going for a walk.
After leaving Eppon’s office, he turned down the hallway where some of the officers’ rooms were. He heard loud voices and laughter coming from one of them. He recognized one voice above all the others—Oshone’s. He took a deep breath and knocked. Almost immediately, someone opened the door. It wasn’t Oshone, but one of the other young officers. The young man regarded Amyar with surprise and suspicion.
“Your Highness. Is there something wrong?”
Before Amyar could say a word, Oshone came to the door.
“My prince. Come to join our little party?” Oshone asked. “Let him in, Maxos.”
Maxos, the young man who had opened the door, stepped aside to let Amyar enter. The other young men stood to their feet immediately and bowed. Inwardly, Amyar sighed. The deference and adherence to etiquette seemed absurd in such an informal setting, but it made him feel at home.
Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set Page 20
