Page 2 of Borgaz

Seven years since the war had ended and every day still felt like a struggle. Each night the familiar nightmares haunted his sleep, leaving him exhausted and bitter, but he had accepted the fact that this was his life now. If he chose to compensate with one too many drinks and more than one too many fights, what difference did it make to anyone?

Anyone except Temel, that is. Or perhaps Temel and his fellow warriors. Naffon, trying to juggle three of the round fruits the humans called apples, his big grin hiding the nightmares that woke him screaming. Kalpar, leaning against the counter with his usual expression of bored cynicism, growing colder with each passing year. And Temel, the leader they would all die for,trying to mask his worries behind his detailed plans for this mad venture.

“Is that clear?” Temel asked.

“Is it clear that you expect us to perform manual labor for the uncertain promise of a crop that could be destroyed by drought or floods or insects and might not actually return a profit?” Kalpar drawled. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Temel rubbed the frown lines that seemed permanently embedded between his horns.

“You agreed to come, Kalpar.”

“Also unfortunately.”

Borgaz bristled, but before he could challenge the other male, Kalpar straightened and headed for the door, pausing long enough to drop his hand on Temel’s shoulder.

“So I will begin by making myself acquainted with these animals we have acquired.” Kalpar reached out and grabbed one of Naffon’s apples. “Come along, youngster. Perhaps those charms you’re always bragging about will work on animals - they certainly don’t work on females.”

“You’re just jealous because you don’t have any charm - or any females.”

Naffon grinned as he caught the remaining apples and stuffed them in his pockets, but Borgaz saw the shadow cross Kalpar’s face before he drew one of his hidden knives and flicked it across the room. The knife landed with a solidthunkin the wooden counter next to Naffon, but his grin only broadened, his expression challenging.

“Or maybe you’re just too old to be interested?”

“Enough,” Temel said tiredly as Kalpar reached for his other sleeve. “Thank you for checking on the animals, Kalpar. I’ve downloaded a schedule of their requirements to everyone’s datapad. Naffon, go check the feed inventory.”

Naffon started to salute, then nodded instead and left. Kalpar retrieved his knife and followed, pausing at the door to look back.

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of letting him provoke me.”

Temel nodded. “I know.”

A rare smile crossed Kalpar’s face.

‘But that doesn’t mean I won’t be happy to introduce him to the joys of manure spreading.”

As Kalpar left, Temel sighed and sat back in his chair.

“I’m not going to ask you if you think this is a bad idea because you’ve already made your feelings known, but do you at least see why I think it’s necessary to try?”

“Because we’re all fucked up in our own ways?” he asked dryly, then shrugged. “I agree with that part.”

“Artek said that hard work and natural surroundings really helped his warriors.”

He shrugged again.

“I know he’s a friend of yours, so perhaps it did. That doesn’t mean it’s the cure for any of us.” Or that there was a cure for the damage the war had caused. “But I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You are.” Temel finally smiled. “Which means it’s time to put you to work. Harkan provided this map of the original fourteen farms. From what he said, this plot and the surrounding four were all actively farmed by the previous owner. I’d like you to inspect the rest and see what infrastructure remains. Are there any useful buildings or usable assets?”

Harkan was a Riasi, also a former warrior, and owned all of the property they now inhabited. He and his mate worked the closest farm but they intended to make the remaining farms available to other former warriors as long as they would commit to working the land for a minimum of five years. Because Harkan was busy with his own farm and his pregnant mate, he’d been happy to place the project in Temel’s hands.

“Do you really think any of us will end up on one of the smaller farms?” he asked.

The prospect horrified him - to be completely alone with his memories and his nightmares? He barely suppressed a shudder.

Temel shrugged. “Perhaps. Or perhaps we will simply make them ready for others. There is room enough for all of us to be here together - and room enough to be apart.”

His friend was quite correct. The house had been built by the former owner as an expression of his wealth and while it was far less grand than some of the homes on Borgaz’s home planet of Erythra, it was a sizable residence by Cresca standards.

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