Future Dreams (8 page)

Jame took a deep breath and held onto the bars to steady her lightheadedness. She had never reacted to another person like that before.

“We’ll try it your way for a while,” Tigh mumbled.

Chapter 7

The residence for the assistant arbiters was unusually quiet for that time of evening. The arbiters, along with the rest of the students at the school, were out enjoying the first beautiful day of early summer.

Jame gnawed on the end of her quill and gazed out the window at her colleagues. They were dashing around the green and kicking a leather ball in a loose game of Glak. The preparation of Tigh’s argument had taken longer than she usually spent on a case, and her regular course work had suffered. So, while her friends showed off creative techniques at playing Glak, she had to catch up on writing assigned essays. Anyway, she mused as she smiled, Tigh was well worth missing a game of Glak over.

Jame enjoyed the time she spent with the quiet warrior. They had developed a kind of rapport and found they could comfortably work together. Everyone else looked at her as if she had sprung wings when she told them she wasn’t having any problems with Tigh. But the others refused to see beyond Tigh the Terrible. Jame found it sad because she discovered in Tigh a sweet, almost shy woman with a wry sense of humor that seeped into their interactions.

A hard click of boots against the wood floor of the common room captured Jame’s attention. Many of the arbiters wore soft-soled boots so they wouldn’t disturb the studious quiet of the school. She took in the fine cut of clothing worn by the approaching pair before she noticed that the woman had startling familiar features.

“Jamelin Ketlas?” an older version of Tigh asked, as the pair stopped on the threshold of the chamber.

“Yes.” Jame put down her quill and stood to greet her visitors. This was a surprise. One of the sad tragedies of the rehabilitation process was that too many of the Guards’ parents had turned their backs on their children once the true nature of the enhancements had been revealed. Tigh was probably the last Guard anyone would suspect of having a supportive family.

“I’m Paldon Tigis and this is my life companion, Joul,” Paldon said. “We’re here for Paldar’s hearing tomorrow and were so looking forward to meeting you that we sought you out right away. We hope we’re not disturbing you.”

“Oh, no.” Jame waved a hand at her desk strewn with books and paper. “Just catching up on some school work. There’s a small parlor where we can go and talk, if you’d like.”

“As long as we’re not keeping you from your work, we’d very much like to chat with you for a while,” Paldon said.

Jame didn’t have much personal experience with Ingorans but still recognized the almost legendary politeness and ability to put others at ease that made them the best merchants in the Southern Territories. It also put her on her guard because they were notorious for striking bargains that made the other person feel they were the ones getting the better deal. She couldn’t imagine why they would want anything other than the full rehabilitation of their daughter.

“Tigh is also my work.” Jame smiled as she led them to a small chamber furnished with several hide chairs and a low table. She lit a fire and hung the always full pot of water over the flame.

“First off,” Paldon began as they settled into the chairs, “we both want to thank you for taking Paldar’s case. We know there’s been some doubts from all parties involved, including our daughter, about a positive outcome to this endeavor. But we have no doubt that she not only can rejoin society, but will be a welcome asset to it.”

“That’s very refreshing to hear, Merchant Tigis,” Jame said. “So many parents have turned their backs on their children during the cleansing process.”

Paldon gave Jame the perfect self-confident smile of a merchant. “They just don’t understand that once the enhancements are removed, their children are back to who they were before with one very important difference. They now have new skills and experiences that can only strengthen whoever they were before they were recruited into the Guards.”

Jame politely nodded and turned to the fireplace, pulled three mugs off a shelf, and pinched some herbs into each of them. A flowery fragrance tickled her nostrils as she poured the boiling water over the herbs.

She knew that everyone, from the healers to the Tribunal to the parents of the Guards, had set ideas on what the cleansing process was supposed to accomplish. None of these ideas reflected the reality but it didn’t seem to matter as long as their self-delusions weren’t contradicted.

“It does take the cleansed Guard time to adjust to being the way they used to be.” Jame decided the best strategy was to remain noncommittal until she understood Paldon’s reasoning.

“That’s why we’re pleased with the rehabilitation program,” Paldon said as she and Joul accepted the mugs of tea. “It’s very thorough and well regulated. Unfortunately, our concern is not with the efforts all of you are making in returning the Guards to society. We’re concerned about Paldar’s reluctance to go through the process.”

“It’s a natural reaction,” Jame said. “Some Guards have a harder time adjusting than others.”

Paldon frowned. “That’s what we don’t understand. She was such a well-adjusted child, well on her way to becoming an excellent merchant, with the combination of her striking looks and a wonderful presence that is the greatest gift a merchant can possess. Even as a youngster, she could smooth talk her way through a bargain as well as many of the established merchants. She truly had the gift.”

“We were very proud of her.” Joul’s gentle eyes creased in fond memory.

“You can imagine our concern that she seems to have lost this gift,” Paldon said. “We barely recognize our daughter in that withdrawn, uncommunicative young woman hiding in that tiny room.”

Jame composed her demeanor and words, understanding both the flaws in the rehabilitation process and that Tigh was not the person her parents seemed to think she was. According to Pendon, her behavior had been an act until she escaped to pursue what she really wanted to do. Jame could relate to Tigh’s motivation, having done the same thing herself at the same age. The difference was, Tigh never had the opportunity to pursue her dream and now the faulty cleansing created a new Tigh needing new paths to follow.

“She’s only been through the first two steps in the process.” Jame realized Tigh now had two battles to face—gaining her freedom from the Military Tribunal and her parents’ expectations. “I’m sure you’ll see a difference once she’s around people again.” Jame was certain there’d be a difference, just not what Tigh’s parents expected.

Paldon smiled. “That puts our minds at ease. We know the healers mean well, but sometimes their evaluations can be a little too clinical and optimistic. But arbiters are trained to look at situations from all sides and form fair judgments. We know you’ll do everything you can to help Paldar so she can return to her place in the House of Tigis.”

Jame took the compliment with a gracious smile but wondered how much easier life would be if people weren’t continually pressured to meet someone else’s expectations.

PALDON TIGIS’S WORDS came back to Jame as she paused before Tigh’s door. A miserable looking Tigh was slumped forward with her elbows on her knees and hands buried in her hair. This certainly wasn’t the lively, smooth-talking young woman Paldon had described.

Jame slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. She hoped they could stop this nonsense of locking Tigh’s door after the hearing. She hoped her argument was strong enough to allow Tigh to go on to the next step in her rehabilitation.

“We still have a sandmark before the hearing,” Jame said.

Tigh nodded, not raising her head.

Jame sat at the little desk. “Your parents stopped by last night.”

“My parents,” Tigh said to the floor.

“They’re here for the hearing.” Jame watched with fascination Tigh’s body language.

“For the hearing,” Tigh repeated as if trying to figure out a riddle.

“They’re concerned for your well being.” Jame noted the rigidity in Tigh’s shoulders.

“Concerned,” Tigh muttered through a ragged breath.

“They seem to think you should be as you were before you were recruited.”

Tigh remained silent.

Jame opened her mouth then paused, then made the decision of trust. “You know, I’m here against my aunt’s wishes. I begged her for years to allow me to attend this school and to train to be an arbiter. My aunt still thinks I’ll go quietly home after my training is complete. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wanted to pursue this profession until I have to return home.”

“I was going to run away,” Tigh mumbled to the floor.

Jame stayed still, not wanting to spook her.

“To Artocia. I studied on the sly to gain the knowledge requirements to enter the University.” Tigh looked up at Jame. “You’re destined to become Queen of Emoria.”

Jame sucked in a startled breath.

“I’ve been asking around.” Tigh gave her a sheepish look. “I’m the first born daughter of the House of Tigis. That means I’m destined to inherit the family business.”

“And you were going to run away from that?” Jame asked.

“Gladly,” Tigh said. “Unlike you, I don’t have to return at some point in my life to become this person everyone expects me to be. I have two younger sisters who can do the job just as well.”

“I’m resigned to the fact that I’ll rule Emoria someday,” Jame said. “But I feel my life is so much more than waiting for that day.”

“How do you plan to do what you want?” Tigh asked.

“The only way is to stay away from home.” Jame shrugged, fighting the conflicting emotions the idea invoked.

“Away.” Tigh nodded. “But you don’t want to be forced to do that.”

Jame sighed. “No. I love my aunt and Emoria, but I’ll stay away if that’s what it takes.”

Tigh studied her hands. “Maybe your aunt will eventually come around.”

Jame grinned at the warmth that seeped through her from Tigh’s sincere words and at the knowledge that she had found some cracks in Tigh’s reserve.

NEVER IN HER two years as an assistant arbiter had Jame seen more than a score of people in the spectator seats of the hearing chamber. All of the available five score seats were filled and the walls of the airy chamber were lined three people deep.

From her seat in the defendants’ box to one side of the Tribunal’s bench, Jame recognized her own peers, younger students from the school, and quite a few healers. Tigh’s parents, sporting supportive expressions, sat in the front row, which was reserved for close family and friends of the Guard and any person of importance who attended the hearing.

Next to the Tigis clan were several representatives from the Federation Council, each wearing the colors of their territory. Jame, feeling a touch of nervousness, studied the quiet group. She had not expected the Federation Council to take such a visible interest in this hearing. After all, it was just the first in a series of hearings a Guard had to go through before the rehabilitation process was complete.

“What’s wrong?” Tigh whispered.

“The Council has sent some observers,” Jame said.

“That’s not normal?” Tigh rubbed her palms on her spotless white leggings.

“I’ve never seen them attend a hearing before.” Jame put a hand on one of Tigh’s restless hands.

Tigh stared at the hand on her own. “If, uh . . . If it doesn’t work out today, it won’t be your fault.”

Jame whipped her head around and stared at Tigh. “But—”

“Listen to me,” Tigh whispered as her power to command attention seeped through. “You have the best strategy for my case. If the Tribunal doesn’t rule in our favor then that means they’re not interested in being fair or in setting me free.”

Jame shook her head, not wanting to believe it. “What’s the use if they treat these hearings as a farce?”

Tigh’s eyes softened into admiration. “I take back what I just said. I don’t think the Tribunal stands a chance against you.”

Jame opened her mouth but the spectators quieted. The Tribunal was ready to enter. She realized she had to win for the simple reason that Tigh had that much faith in her and she didn’t want to let her down.

The small door on the opposite side of the Tribunal’s bench scraped open. The seven brown-robed Tribunes swept in and settled onto their cushioned seats behind a deep stone table. Jame was pleased to observe they were also surprised to see the Federation Council representatives. At least there wasn’t a concerted conspiracy against Tigh.

Sitas Largrun occupied the middle seat of the Tribunal’s bench, a distinction, Jame noted, Sitas didn’t look happy about. The Tribune occupying the middle seat had to keep order and the presence of Tigh the Terrible was too volatile to hope this overflow of curious onlookers would remain passive throughout the hearing. The whispers were already in the air after the respectful silence at the Tribunal’s entrance.

“Keeper of the Bench, bring the chamber to order.” Sitas nodded at the uniformed soldier who stood by the Tribunal bench.

The Keeper of the Bench raised a hollowed metal tube dangling on a short chain and struck it three times with a metal stick.

With the chamber silent, Sitas studied the top sheet of a neat pile of paper. “Our first case today is the hearing for Paldar Tigis to pass on to step three of the Guard rehabilitation program. She’ll be represented by assistant arbiter, Jamelin Ketlas.” She glanced up at the spectators. “We don’t expect this hearing to be any different from the others that have been presented here. If any of you are here because you think something interesting is going to happen, I suggest you find a better way to spend your time.” The spectators remained still. “Very well. You may take the floor, Jamelin.”

Arguing cases before the Tribunal and a handful of concerned relatives and friends gave Jame little preparation for facing close to two hundred people who, she knew, were going to soak up her every word and movement. The only thing that gave her confidence as she stood up was that Tigh thought she was capable of arguing her case.