The Harvest Young- Bound by Love

by M. A. Church

  “Blood will flow,” Takeo promised. “And I will rejoice as I stand in it.”

  “My knives stand ready to serve you. I will peel the flesh from my enemies and gift it to you,” Dayo swore.

  The emotions he tried so hard to keep down overflowed. “I shall avenge my dabba.”

  “We shall,” Raiden stressed. “We’ll help you avenge King Duran. But for now, enjoy your family. Be at peace, Hamza.” Raiden stepped back then knelt. “Now, come see the newest young in our family.”

  Hamza followed the group to where Szin lay. Grunting, Dayo climbed back into bed with Raiden’s help, and Chad handed Dayo his young back. Takeo sat down again next to Szin and winked at him. Szin turned red but grinned.

  Szin tugged the blanket down for Hamza. The young had Takeo’s snow-white skin, and his eyes were blood-red. But they were human-shaped like Szin’s. The young’s hair was brown, also like Szin’s, but he had Takeo’s high cheekbones. Hamza couldn’t tell if he had a tail, but he did have the Tah’Narian pointed ears. When he yawned, Hamza caught sight of small fangs.

  “We’re not sure if his hair will stay that color,” Szin said. “Dad said it appears really loose. Whatever that means. Anyway, we named him Alton.”

  Takeo cleared his throat. “I wanted to name him Payne.”

  “Pain?” Neo asked as he moved closer. “As in ‘ouch, I’m hurting’? That kind of pain?”

  “Well yeah, that meaning, but a different type of spelling—a ‘y’ instead of ‘i’ and ‘e’ at the end; not that it matters because we are not calling a young of mine a name that has to do with any form of pain.” Szin glared at Takeo.

  “It is a strong name worthy of our young,” Takeo muttered. “We’re still discussing it.”

  “Yeah, actually, no, no we aren’t.”

  “How about as a middle name?” Raiden asked.

  “No one asked you, barbed wonder!” Szin snapped.

  Neo smothered a laugh.

  Hamza gawked in amazement at Szin then Raiden. His lips twitched. Wow, he hadn’t heard that in a very long time.

  Raiden growled at Szin.

  “Don’t start, you two,” Dale warned. “And good grief, why am I still having to say that all these years later?”

  “Just lucky, Dad?” Grinning, Raiden jerked out of swatting distance. “My turn, Hamza. Come on.”

  Turning from Szin, he stepped toward Dayo’s bed. His footsteps slowed as he drew near, and he struggled to keep the shock from showing on his face. “But—”

  “Yeah, he has white hair—with black streaks.”

  Hamza’s mouth fell open. “And neither color is dominant? By the gods, that’s striking, but—”

  “But it’s never been seen before,” Raiden finished. “I know, but really, are you surprised? I mean, if it’s something to do with Szin or me….” He shrugged. “It came as a shock to us too. He has the ears, a stub where his tail will be, but his eyes are sky blue, like Dayo’s, with slitted pupils. His name is Ajax.”

  “They are both worthy Tah’Narians. Congratulations, my friends. I look forward to—” Hamza’s comm buzzed, and Keyno’s name scrolled across the screen. Once more duty called. Hamza pressed his lips together. Looked like fun time was over.

  Chapter Eight – Neo

  AFTER QUICK reassurances nothing was wrong, and hasty goodbyes, Neo followed Hamza from the birthing suite. “Is everything actually okay?”

  “Okay? Nothing is okay, but that comm I received was not unexpected.” Hamza started down the hall, Neo close to his side. “It’s Keyno. He wants to meet. Final reports regarding the structural integrity of the palace are in, along with recommendations on rebuilding, plus general updates on damages to our space fleet, and….” Hamza stopped and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And a million other things. Makes my head hurt just thinking about it.”

  Neo motioned with his head for the guards around them to fall back. They needed a moment to speak privately, but he seriously doubted he could get them to completely leave. He moved close enough his shoulder touched Hamza’s, then ducked his head, lowering his voice. “Then let’s take it one thing at a time—meet with Keyno. Get his recommendations. Please don’t get mad at what I’m going to say, but I think you need to reach out to the more experienced Tah’Narians who are close to you. Like Keyno. Like Gibor. Maybe even my dabba. They’ve been to war. Let them guide you.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Neo rested his cheek against Hamza’s shoulder. “I think you should consider appointing Keyno as a personal advisor. He has experience and age,” Neo murmured.

  If anyone passed by, it would look as if Hamza was comforting Neo, which was fine with Neo. The last thing any of them needed was for their young king to look unprepared. Hamza was the rightful ruler, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be challenged. King Vesh, the monarch who had started the war with the Onfre, was a perfect example of how a bad king could get overthrown.

  “I’ve thought of that,” Hamza admitted.

  Neo straightened and grasped Hamza’s hand. Together they continued on, the royal guards trailing them. He followed Hamza to a room that had been hastily set up to act as their war room.

  There were screens on every available wall space. Reports were coming in from all the cities attacked, updates on damages to the fleet, and endless incoming information on casualties. Males bustled to and fro between screens and computer terminals.

  “King Hamza!” someone shouted. Silence rang throughout the room as everyone paused.

  Keyno tore himself away from a computer console and strode across the room toward them. He bowed at the waist then straightened once Hamza recognized him. Neo scanned the room, watching how the other males reacted to Hamza. Grief covered many faces, along with concern. Then, one by one, they bowed their heads.

  “Thank you,” Hamza said.

  “Sire? Welcome. May I update you?” Keyno asked.

  “I would like that, but first….” Hamza studied the room. “Are my advisors all here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Is there a room where all of us can meet? Privately?”

  “Now?” Keyno cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, of course, Sire. I believe so. It won’t be as nice as the one your…. That is to say, we have been using something else since King Duran’s private office is unusable at the moment.”

  “That’s fine. Gather the advisors and show me where this room is.”

  Keyno hesitated then jumped into action. Neo understood why—the cold, controlled emptiness in Hamza’s voice had caught him off guard too.

  Once everybody was gathered, Keyno led Hamza and the others to the meeting place. Fortunately, the temporary room was close. Once they were situated, Hamza stood at the head of the long table that dominated the room. Neo sat at the other end of the table. “Thank you all. I know this gathering is spur of the moment, but I have a few things to say, and I wish to do it in private.”

  There were softly spoken acknowledgments from the group.

  “King Duran is dead. We know who did this. We know why they did this. My planet has been attacked in a stunning blow of defiance. Many have been killed. They struck at the heart of my family and the people of Tah’Nar. Instead of having the years I assumed to have before assuming the kingship, I have been catapulted into this role by tragedy. We are at war—a state of armed conflict—and I have no prior knowledge of such a thing.”

  There were more mumblings.

  Hamza nodded. “Exactly. It is a worrisome concept. I am king of a race at war, and I have no experience with war. I trust my advisors just as my dabba did. I will depend heavily upon your guidance, as my dabba did also. But while I trust you, my advisors, I also don’t know you as well as Duran did. Because of that, as my first royal act, I am appointing Captain Keyno Landium Shou as my warlord.”

  The mumblings grew in volume.

  Neo kept his face blank. When he mentioned appointing Keyno as a personal advisor, he hadn’t meant this. The
last warlord appointment was during King Vesh’s rule.

  “He is part of the royal family, a worthy male, and more importantly, I know him. I trust him. So did my dabba. He is blood. He will lend me his experience and knowledge as I go to war against the Ne Reyn. This will not lessen the importance of you, my advisors. But I need you to concentrate on the massive amount of rebuilding to be done here and elsewhere. Help me help our people.”

  Neo surveyed the advisors. Slowly the looks of concern faded from their faces. Very smart. Make them feel like you need them while establishing somebody you trust implicitly by your side.

  “I will appoint six of you to oversee the rebuilding of Castron, Lowbrett, and Kiton. That’s two males per city. You will work with the city lords to restore those cities, provide aid to its citizens, and to bring back a sense of security to those harmed. Others will oversee the repairs to our space fleet and deal with any needed recruitment. The rest will focus on restoring and outfitting both Darkkit Palace and the Tah’Narian Planetary Defense building with weapons. Shielding isn’t enough. I want studies with price projections for upgrades to both buildings. This will never happen again. I promise you that.”

  The mumblings were quickly turning into nods of agreements. Wow, he sure knows how to work a crowd. I never noticed how charismatic and persuasive he can be.

  “All of this must be accomplished as quickly as possible. Everything will, of course, have my stamp of approval, but I need you to focus on this while I focus on the war.”

  Shouts of agreement rang out.

  “Captain Shou, will you accept this position and all the responsibilities it entails? Will you be my right hand?”

  Appearing stunned, Keyno gracefully stood from his chair and bowed. “With all that I am, Sire. I pledge all that I am to you. I gladly accept.”

  Hamza rested his hand on Keyno’s shoulder. “So be it. Rise, Warlord Shou, and take your place to my right. Let it be known that I formally announce my ascension as king. Now, is there anyone who wishes to contest my rise?”

  Neo held his breath, waiting to see if anybody would object. None did. Instead, every male in the room surged to their feet and roared their approval. Hamza stood proudly, but Neo shifted restlessly because hatred blazed in Hamza’s eyes. This time there were no signs of grief—just determination. And a never-ending coldness about him.

  “Thank you. I pledge to each of you that the Ne Reyn will know my wrath.” Hamza nodded at the male to his right. He moved, leaving his seat empty for Keyno. “Please be seated everyone. There will be no celebration, as I do not consider this something to celebrate. King Duran was murdered, his life cut short. But there will be a state funeral so my people can mourn their beloved king, which will be organized as soon as possible. The rebuilding of the palace begins immediately too. I want my people to be able to gather to witness my crowning.”

  Neo gulped. Holy shit, that meant crews would have to work nonstop in rotating shifts to accomplish that. It could be done, but it’d be exhausting.

  “This event will take place in five unit days at ten in the morning, standard galaxy time. Send the announcements planet wide regarding my ascension to the crown. With my rise, my mate, Neo, will henceforth be addressed as King Consort. So, let’s get started. Advisor Taff, will you oversee Castron and work with the city lord?”

  THE UNIT hour flew by as Neo watched Hamza appoint positions for each advisor, then they returned to the temporary war room, where Hamza announced his plans, and once more was greeted with roars of approval.

  Outside of a break for a meal, the rest of the time was spent dealing with updates on the number of dead and wounded, the rebuilding of the palace and Tah’Narian Planetary Defense building, and the status of the damaged fighters. Hamza also ordered all starships recalled to patrol Tah’Nar.

  Finally, Hamza called it a unit day, and they returned to their room. After leaving a warning with the guards on duty they didn’t wish to be disturbed unless it was an emergency, Neo activated the door release. It slid open, and the smell of something delicious greeted them. Neo’s stomach growled.

  “I was getting ready to comm you. I know you’re busy, but you have to take time to eat.” Jolak called from the kitchen as he removed another plate from the reduplicator. “Neo, would you comm your dabba and dad, please? I invited them over earlier.”

  Hamza blinked.

  Neo stood there with his mouth hanging open.

  “Now, you two.”

  Hamza and Neo crashed into each other trying to get through the door. Someone in the hall snorted. When Jolak used that tone of voice, males tended to jump. Neo yelped from the sudden impact of a pointy elbow to his ribs. Glaring, he returned the favor. Hamza grinned as he moved out of the way and waved for Neo to go first.

  Neo almost shouted in relief at the playfulness is Hamza’s eyes. It beat the hell out of the anger he’d seen so often. He made a beeline to Jolak. “Jolak? Are you okay?” Discreetly he scanned Jolak’s features, looking for any hint that he might—

  “I’m fine. And stop that.”

  He actually did look okay, surprisingly enough. “Sorry. Hazard of the profession.” He sniffed. Something smelled really good. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

  “I know. But I needed something to take my mind off things. Now comm Doc and John, please.”

  Neo sent the message to his dad and dabba. “I did. So, need any help?”

  “No, thank you. It’s all ready.” Jolak removed the top from a dark bottle sitting on the small dining table and poured himself a measured amount into a goblet. “Would either of you like a glass of Akdov?”

  “Sure.”

  “Yes, Atat. Very much so.”

  After the drinks were fixed, they leaned against the counter, talking about what Neo would call safe subjects. Hamza was careful not to mention any of the things they’d accomplished, and Jolak didn’t ask. A good ten unit minutes passed before there was a soft chime signaling somebody was at the door.

  “I’ll get it.” Knowing the guard wouldn’t allow any interruptions unless it was an emergency, Hamza answered the door. “John. Doc.” Hamza stepped out of the way and motioned them to enter. “Welcome.”

  “Hey, Hamza. Thank you for inviting us over,” John said, stepping inside.

  “We appreciate you asking us.” Doc slipped in after John.

  “We were just having a glass of Akdov before final meal.” Hamza led them to the living area. “Would you like one?”

  “Maybe after final meal.” John waved at Jolak. “Hey!”

  “Me too,” Doc said, following John deeper into the living area.

  “I’m glad you could come,” Jolak said. “Everything is ready. Shall we?”

  Final meal passed quickly. They kept the talk light, and Neo was glad. But he watched Jolak out of the corner of his eye. Even though he often smiled, the strain on his face was visible. Once everybody was done eating, Neo offered to clean the table while the others enjoyed a drink.

  Jolak was on his third glass. He’d noticed the concern on Hamza’s face, but fortunately he hadn’t commented. Jolak didn’t appear drunk, just very tipsy. Frankly, Neo couldn’t blame him, as long as it didn’t become a crutch to escape his pain.

  “John? Why don’t you and I take a walk? I’d like to stretch my legs,” Jolak said. “Is it safe to do so, Hamza?”

  “Yes, but for the time being, I’d rather you stay belowground.”

  “I’d like to go to my private garden.”

  “I understand, Atat, but parts of the palace are under construction. Let me check the stability of the area you’re wanting to go first. Please? I know it’s your special place, but I need you to be safe.”

  “Could you let me know tomorrow? In the meantime, John and I will stick to the hallways.” Jolak stood and held his hand to John. “Shall we? I’m sure they need to speak about the destruction and war, and they won’t do that as long as I’m around.”

  Neo gulped. How did Jolak al
ways seem to know? He and Hamza did wish to speak to Doc.

  “I’d be happy to.” John pressed a quick kiss to Doc’s lips. Standing, he hooked his arm through Jolak’s. “We’ll be back in thirty unit minutes.”

  Neo followed. After a quick explanation, two guards left to trail behind John and Jolak. Satisfied, Neo let the door slide closed.

  Chapter Nine – Hamza

  HAMZA RESUMED speaking when Neo returned to his seat. “Since we have a limited amount of time, I’ll get straight to the point. Earlier I appointed Keyno as my warlord. It’s my intention to ask you to be a blood general. Gibor and Malk also.”

  Doc’s mouth fell open. “Hamza—”

  “I realize these titles haven’t been employed in a very long time.”

  “Last time was with the Onfre.” Doc shifted on his chair, grimacing. “Are you certain you wish to revive such a practice?”

  “We are at war, are we not?” Hamza challenged. “And not of our own doing this time.”

  “I know, but instituting such titles…. It was a grim time in our history.”

  “Our king has been murdered. I’d say that’s pretty grim too,” Hamza snapped. Hearing the anger in his voice, he tried to rein it back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I…. Are you suggesting this is a bad idea?”

  “That’s not for me to say. You are the king now.” Doc sighed. “Hamza, my rank is lieutenant commander, but really, I don’t have hands-on experience with such situations, unlike Gibor or Malk. I was the chief medical officer on Keyno’s starship, which was a senior staff-level position, true, but I mainly dealt with medical issues. And, well, the results of our taking mates. Some of those circumstances were not voluntary, as you know.”

  “The harvest,” Neo murmured.

  “Yes. Another part of our past that’s unflattering, to say the least.”

  “It was necessary,” Hamza said. They had to do it to survive.

  “Yes, it was,” Doc agreed. “But don’t discount the damage done. You will never truly understand how mates like John, Dale, Chad, and even Cielo, felt. Jolak, on the other hand, was a royal in his own right, even before Duran mated him. Jolak always knew a match would be made for him. There was no fear involved.”