The Harvest Young- Bound by Love

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The Harvest Young- Bound by Love Page 18

by M. A. Church


  “Yeah, most tyrants are,” Hamza said. “But what’s interesting is how many females actually allied with Princess Dossi. More than the queen was expecting, I think. Enough that she was actually in jeopardy of losing her crown. I believe we haven’t had any more attacks because she’s in over her head with this civil war. She called for help, in the form of Blishue mercenaries. While I’m glad she hasn’t had time to turn her attention toward us again, the mercenaries concern me. We won’t be just fighting the Ne Reyn but also those she hired.”

  “That could be a problem.” Malk pushed his plate away. “They might be mercenaries, but there’s not much a Blishue loves more than a good battle. Plus, they are sadistic, cruel, and without mercy.”

  “Bloodthirsty monsters who kill without regard,” Gibor murmured.

  “No wonder the Ne Reyn employed them.” Neo took a bite of the pastry Hamza gave him. “The two have a lot in common.”

  “But they don’t handle disrespect well, either.” Keyno tilted his head, studying Hamza. “It’s astonishing they haven’t slaughtered one another. I have to say I’m surprised by her course of action.”

  “Me too,” Doc said. “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say she didn’t have a choice because no one else would help her. Queen Ogill has made her fair share of enemies throughout the years.”

  “There is that. I can’t think of any species that have trade relations with her,” Neo said.

  “My source also tells me we have a spy in the Queen’s inner circle,” Hamza said, dropping another bomb. There were many shocked gasps.

  “I thought there had to be something you weren’t saying. Who?” Keyno demanded.

  “I don’t have a name, but it’s one of the Blishue mercenaries. He’s a double agent.” Hamza sipped his coffee.

  “Wait. How could a male, any male, be allowed that close to the queen during a time like this?” Malk asked.

  “Oh, he’s not just close to the queen. He’s her lover,” Hamza said.

  “What?” Gibor jerked back in his chair. “That would mean the male had to be—”

  “He couldn’t be….” Doc looked from Hamza to Gibor to Keyno. “He couldn’t be unless—”

  “Are you telling me there’s a Blishue who is submissive?” Neo blurted. “How is that even possible? They’re a dominant species. And why would the queen take the risk of having a lover who isn’t Ne Reynian?”

  “Don’t assume he’s submissive,” Hamza said. “We don’t know that.”

  “Then wouldn’t that be out of character for her?” Neo responded. “So, again, why take that risk?”

  “What did we say the Blishue were? Sadistic, cruel, and without mercy. And the Ne Reynian queen, what did we say about her? That she rules with an iron fist and through fear,” Hamza said. “She’s mean. Vicious. And Ne Reynian males, what are they? Basically slaves who are taught from birth to acquiesce. To comply with any given command.”

  “Oh my gods,” Neo whispered. “Surely you don’t think—”

  “Queen Ogill hired mercenaries, and then found among them one willing to bed her. Now she has the chance to break one. Or, at least try to break him. The Blishue equal her in temperament, right? Ne Reynian males are small and delicate. They bend too easily, I’d bet. A Blishue male won’t give in,” Hamza pointed out. “Maybe she wants a little fight to spice things up. Flex her metaphorical muscle, so to speak. And if he’s an ex-warrior, I bet he’s as sadistic as she is. What a change of pace that would make, don’t you think?”

  “Could she really be that egotistical?” Neo wondered.

  “Stupid?” Doc added.

  “Yes,” Malk finally said. “She is that egotistical. It wouldn’t cross her mind a male would have the balls to betray her. She’s a narcissist.”

  “It would explain her inflated sense of importance.”

  “Her excessive need for attention and admiration.”

  “Her complete lack of empathy.”

  “That poor male,” Neo mumbled, putting down his goodie. The food sat like a rock in his stomach from the very idea.

  “Don’t waste your sympathy on a Blishue. They’re not worth it,” Gibor retorted. “I have no idea why he decided to do this, but it wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart. There was something for him in it. It’s just her bad luck he’s a spy. Good for us, though.”

  “That’s kind of cold, don’t you think?” Gibor’s response surprised Neo. Dayo’s dabba was usually a lot more understanding.

  “Have you ever met a Blishue?” Gibor asked.

  “Well, no.”

  “I have. Doc has. Keyno has. Malk has. They are irredeemable. Their only loyalty is to themselves. They have no compassion. The whole damn race is a menace. Whoever the male is, he knew what he was getting into. For all we know, he happily volunteered.”

  Dayo’s dabba or not, that was a shit thing to say. “I’d like to point out that some females of the Ne Reyn have changed,” Neo argued. “I’m pretty sure most Tah’Narians would agree that the females are irredeemable, but here we are, talking about helping some who have found the moral fortitude to fight for the males they love. I wouldn’t be so quick to discount a ‘whole damn race,’ as you put it, Gibor.”

  “If I ever meet a Blishue who proves me wrong, I will gladly eat my words. Until then, I stand by what I said.”

  Keyno rubbed his hand over his face. “Good thing Dale isn’t here, or he’d be hollering about how you just dared fate, my friend.”

  Neo smirked. “And we all believe in fate—or destiny, or whatever you want to call it—don’t we, Gibor?”

  “We’re about to go to war, so please, no daring fate. And on that note, meeting adjourned,” Hamza said.

  Neo waited until it was just them again. “I don’t like what Gibor said.”

  “I’m going to reserve judgment. I don’t necessarily disagree with him. He has age and experience on his side. But I won’t judge a whole race, either. People can change. Maybe most of the Blishue are lost causes, but that’s not my problem. I don’t know what his motivation is, and I don’t frankly care. He’s helping us, and that’s all I care about.”

  Neo hopped out of his chair and sat in Hamza’s lap. “And that’s why I love you. You temper your power with mercy.”

  “Well, if there’s a reason for mercy, then I will. But as far as the reigning female in power and her supporters go, then no, there will be no mercy there.”

  “As it should be.” Neo rubbed one of Hamza’s ears. “What else is on the agenda?”

  “Bed will be if you keep doing that,” Hamza growled. He swatted Neo on the leg. “Brat.”

  Laughing, Neo scrambled off Hamza’s lap. “Not that I would object, but you’d probably be grouchy when you remembered all the work waiting on you. So, what do you have planned?”

  “Endless meetings, more endless meetings, and then some more endless meetings. What about you?”

  “More of the same. Why don’t we meet for second meal? That’d make a nice break in the middle of all those endless meetings. Maybe I could comm Jolak and see if he wants to join us?”

  “That sounds good. Just comm me thirty unit minutes before, if you can, so I can wrap up whatever I’m doing.”

  Neo leaned over and rubbed his cheek against Hamza’s. “I will. Have a good unit day, love. Don’t work too hard.”

  Hamza groaned.

  Chapter Twenty-one – Hamza

  HAMZA SHOWED up early at Neo’s door and had one of the royal guards tap on the door for him. He and Neo had planned to meet for second meal, but he’d been called to pick up an unexpected surprise. He couldn’t wait to see Neo’s face when he saw it.

  “Enter.”

  It slid open but Hamza stayed in the doorway. In his hands he held two small ornate boxes. “Guess what?”

  “They’re here?” Neo gasped. “Already?” Jumping up from the desk, he hurried around it. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get in here. And gimme.”

  Chuckling, he did a
s Neo demanded. Neo fluttered around him, peeking at the ornate boxes, making happy noises. He sat them on Neo’s desk. “The boxes are stunning, aren’t they?”

  “They are. I’m hoping what’s inside is just as stunning.” Neo reached for one.

  “Hold on.” Hamza snagged Neo’s hand. “I think we should take an appropriate amount of time to admire the hard work that went into these boxes.”

  Neo practically bounced in place. “And I absolutely will. I will praise the craftsmanship to the skies. Brag to any and all how magnificent the boxes are. I totally will do all that later, but for right now, if you don’t let go of me, I will toss your ass across the room!”

  “Can’t have you tossing your king across rooms.” With overabundance of dramatization, Hamza laid his hand on his chest. “Whatever would the royal guard think?” Laughing, he loosened his hold on Neo’s hand.

  “That you probably deserved it,” Neo fired back. “They’ve known you forever.”

  “There is that. Let’s open them together.”

  “If you don’t get a move on, I’m going to already have mine open and on my head!”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Neo grabbed one of the boxes.

  “At the risk of my well-being, I’m going to point out that’s mine.”

  “How the hell do you know?”

  Hamza pointed at the top of the box. “My first clue was the little tag with my name.”

  “Oh good grief.” Neo scowled at Hamza. “They’re the same exact thing! Why does it matter?”

  “Um, they had to take measurements, remember? Your head was a little bit bigger than mine.” Hamza smirked.

  “Yeah it is.” Neo thrust his hips.

  “Not that head, you goof.” Hamza picked up the other box and held it out to Neo. “This one is yours. You have mine.”

  “Fine!” Neo huffed. He handed the box he held to Hamza. “Together, right? We open them together.”

  Hamza nodded. “On the count of three. One unit… two unit… three unit!” Instead of opening his, he watched Neo’s face. The surprise and sheer joy reflected in Neo’s eyes was worth the wait.

  “Oh, it’s….” Neo glanced at Hamza. “Magnificent.”

  “I agree,” Hamza said, still staring at Neo. “Magnificent.” No precious gem or expensive metal could eclipse the beauty standing before him.

  A slight flush darkened Neo’s skin. “Open yours.”

  Hamza lifted the top of the box and carefully lifted his out of the tissue paper. The sunlight caught the sparkling crystal, the burst of color dazzling him.

  Neo held his circlet out. “Put it on me. Please?”

  Eyes suddenly burning, Hamza traded circlets with Neo. The last time Neo had a crown placed on his head, it had been done with pomp and circumstance. And by someone else. Hamza raised the circlet and gently placed it on Neo’s head. This time it was done with love. The fiery brilliance of the crystal in sunlight turned Neo’s deep auburn hair into a living flame. Pleasure pinkened his cheeks.

  “My mate.” Emotions nearly choking him, Hamza struggled to speak. “My love. You are my everything. You temper my fire.”

  Neo lifted Hamza’s circlet and placed it on his head. “My love. You are my everything. I will also be the one to unleash your fire should the need arise.”

  Hamza exhaled loudly, trying to shake off the sudden heaviness of the moment. “We chose well.

  “Since mine is an exact copy of yours, I agree.” Neo winked. “We did choose well.”

  “Yours looks great. How does it feel?” Hamza tossed his head. “Mine isn’t too heavy. I can wear this all unit day, no problem.”

  “No, it isn’t heavy at all.”

  “Good. Oh, and dibs on the mirror in your bathroom,” Hamza yelled, sprinting toward it.

  “Oh, you shit!” Neo raced after him. “No fair!”

  THE NEXT several unit days were a whirlwind. The renovation to Jolak’s quarters was progressing nicely. Although grief still lined Jolak’s face, redesigning and moving his private paradise seemed to be helping.

  Things at the palace were quiet. Droves of males drifted in and out to attend the laying in for King Duran. At night the Great Hall was closed to the public, and he and Neo would often go there in the evenings, talk to his dabba for a bit, then retire for the night.

  Once or twice they bumped into Jolak. His atat wasn’t the only one Hamza saw coming or going late at night. He’d spotted Dale and Keyno a few times too, along with other friends who’d been granted permission to enter after the doors were closed to the public.

  Finally, the eve of King Duran’s funeral arrived. The weather was warm, but a strong breeze blew as the suns sank below the horizon. It was time for the symbolic vigil around King Duran’s coffin.

  As Hamza finished setting the circlet on his head, Neo ran a hand up his arm. “Are you ready?” Neo asked.

  “I am.” Hamza brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his shirt. He checked his reflection one last time. He and Neo were in formal Tah’Narian dress this time: pants tucked into dress boots, short tunic shirts with elaborate scrollwork at the bottom and around the neck, and sashes tied around the waist.

  Priceless crystals sparkled in their ears, on their necks, and from a ring that rested at the base of Hamza’s tail. The material for the clothes was the most expensive Tah’Nar had to offer. And it was white. Every scrap of material on them was pure white, signifying they were the king and the king consort.

  “Then shall we?” Neo asked, holding out his hand.

  Smiling, Hamza took it. This was becoming something of a habit between them. Together, they walked the halls that led to the Great Hall. Only two royal guards followed them, not speaking a word. This time there was no one lining the halls. No cheers or shouts.

  Just silence at this time of mourning.

  At the doors of the Great Hall, they stopped. The first chime echoed through the palace. Hamza nodded to the royal guards, and they opened the door. He took a deep breath. There was only one last thing to do after this.

  He and Neo solemnly walked inside, and the doors shut behind them. For now, they were the only ones there. Hamza lifted their joined hands and kissed Neo’s knuckles. Separating, they approached the bier, which was a highly decorated wooden framework supporting King Duran’s glass casket.

  Another chime sounded.

  Hamza took his place near King Duran’s head, facing out. Neo stood near King Duran’s feet, facing out too. Heads bowed, they clasped their hands behind their backs. Neither would raise their head or acknowledge anybody while standing guard over King Duran.

  Another chime sounded.

  The Great Hall doors opened again, and a steady stream of family and friends filed inside. Softly spoken conversation drifted to Hamza. He let his mind drift until he heard another chime, but this one was lower and much more drawn out. As soon as it ended, boots appeared in his line of vision.

  “King Hamza, would you allow me the honor of relieving you?” Keyno asked.

  Lifting his head, Hamza glanced into Keyno’s eyes. “I am relieved. Thank you, Captain Shou.” No, he didn’t use the warlord title. He had a feeling that didn’t mean as much to Keyno as his title of captain did, which he understood. He moved from his position, and Neo met him. Together they bowed to the casket as a last sign of respect. As they walked away, he noticed Dale now stood where Neo had.

  The sight brought a smile to his face.

  They mingled, talking softly with the visitors. Hamza caught snatches of conversation. Some were retelling funny things his dabba had said during his life. Or had done. This was the time for the family and friends to say their goodbyes. The entombment would only be attended by him, Neo, and Jolak.

  Jolak drifted from person to person before making his way to Hamza and Neo. He hugged both of them. There was a sheen in his eyes, but no tears fell. The three of them moved through the crowd. He sensed there was grief, but also a subtle sort of… well, not happiness, but a loving sa
dness to the crowd.

  Another lower and much more drawn out chime sounded at the twenty unit minute mark. Hamza watched as Gibor and Chad relieved Dale and Keyno. Every twenty unit minutes, a chime sounded and someone else asked for the honor to stand guard for their fallen king.

  Doc and Chad, Malk and Kia, Ti and Cielo each had a turn. Then the young relieved the older generation. First there was Raiden and Dayo. Then Szin and Takeo. After them were Laken and Kaylo. Lastly the family members who weren’t as close took a turn.

  Not once was the casket unattended, which was a significant show of respect and honor. Hamza said a private prayer to the gods that he’d be as loved and admired as his dabba when his time came.

  Two quick chimes rang out. This time he and Jolak approached the casket, but Jolak went to the head and Hamza stood at the bottom. He and his atat would be the last to stand guard for the male they both loved so much.

  For the next twenty unit minutes no one spoke a word.

  A chime sounded one last time. For a split unit second, a tidal wave of grief threatened to drag him under. Frantically he searched the crowd until he found Neo, who was staring back at him. The warmth and understanding in his face helped shore up Hamza’s flagging courage.

  He marched to where Jolak stood. “Crown Prince Jolak of the Planet Lynon, mate to King Duran of Tah’Nar, our duty is at an end.”

  Jolak lifted his head. A tear trickled down his cheek. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  Hamza bowed first to the casket then to Jolak. Offering his arm, he proudly escorted his atat from the Great Hall, signifying the end of King Duran’s laying in state. Family and friends followed, and according to tradition, the Great Hall was closed until tomorrow, the sixth unit day, when King Duran would finally be laid to rest.

  Once the door was shut and they were alone, Neo swept Hamza up and carried him to the bedroom. Carefully he undressed him, tucked him into bed, then curled around him. Held in Neo’s strong arms, Hamza let himself break.

  HAMZA WOKE to the faint chirping of birds. Rising, he shrugged on the robe laying at the foot of the bed. He stopped by the floor-length window and lifted his face, basking in the rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds. Wildlife celebrated by going about its usual morning rituals. Leaves fluttered in gentle breezes—all things that promised a new beginning.

 

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