Future Dreams (14 page)

Ingel gazed at Jame for several heartbeats. “Two words. Be careful.”

“Thank you.” Jame grinned. “And I’ll be careful.”

Chapter 11

Jame leaned against the door jam of the children’s ward and watched in fascination as Tigh stitched a gash on a small girl’s arm. As Tigh sewed tiny even stitches, the girl cheerfully chatted about her family, her pet goat, and her pesky brother.

Jame bit her lip to keep from laughing at Tigh’s patient look of resignation. She couldn’t have asked for a better argument for her case than the fact the children not only loved her but insisted she be the one to take care of them.

“Children see others much clearer than adults do,” Bede said from behind her. “They have the gift to see the beauty of the soul beneath even the passive detachment of your friend.”

“I wish others had that gift,” Jame said.

“You’ve been a good friend to her.” Bede laid a fatherly hand on Jame’s shoulder. “Most of the Guards put in my care are truly lost souls who have to go through their rehabilitation alone. All the healers and counselors in the world can’t equal a good friend.”

“She’s been a good friend to me, too,” Jame said. “We help each other.”

Bede smiled. “We’ll miss her, but we know she has to move on.”

Jame gave Bede a conspiratorial nudge. “I bet she’ll come back if a child requests it.”

“I know she will, without hesitation,” Bede said. “Find something she can do where she’ll be of service to others. I know she wanted to be a scholar, but I don’t think that will ease her restless soul.”

Jame nodded. “She knows that. She’s a complicated composite of who she was before she was recruited and who she was as a Guard.”

“You know, Loena and Pendon are going to spend the rest of their lives trying to figure out what went wrong during her cleansing process,” Bede said. “From their point of view, Tigh’s their only failure. From my point of view, having worked with the other cleansed Guards, Tigh’s their only success.”

“You’re right,” Jame said. “They’ve been going backwards to find the foundation for a Guard’s future, when they should have been going forward. And the only way to do this is to work with the whole person up to the point of cleansing.”

Bede looked impressed. “We could have used some of your insight when we began this process. Tigh is in good hands.”

“Thank you.” Jame bowed her head in embarrassment. She returned her attention to Tigh who was helping the little girl off the stool.

“REMEMBER. ON THE central square, we’ll be the ones with the yellow sashes.” The little girl put her hands on her hips and looked up at Tigh.

“I’ll remember,” Tigh said.

The girl grinned and skipped happily past Jame and Bede.

“What was that all about?” Jame asked.

“Uh,” Tigh scratched her head, “she’s going to be in a procession at the Summer Solstice festival.”

“Then we’ll be sure to be there to see her.”

Tigh lifted startled eyes to Jame. “I didn’t think, I mean, I wasn’t sure . . .”

Bede laid an understanding hand on Jame’s arm and then went back to the main ward.

Jame walked to Tigh’s tidy workspace. “We have a similar festival in Emoria. It’s called the Festival of Flowers. Besides celebrating the coming of spring, it’s when couples make a public acknowledgment of their togetherness by wearing bracers of the same design and with the same kinds of flowers. In Ynit they wear an identical token, but it’s the same idea. What I’m trying to say is, I’d be honored to go to the Solstice Festival with you, if you want to go.”

“You would?” Tigh asked with wonderment. “As just a friend?” She looked down at the ball of stitching thread in her hands.

“That’s up to you.” Jame gently lifted Tigh’s chin. “I’m ready to take the next step, if you are.”

The ball of stitching thread fell to the smooth stone floor as Tigh attempted to restart her heart. She managed to find enough air to push through her vocal chords and whispered, “Yes.” She almost landed on the floor next to the ball of thread when Jame’s face glowed in a joyful response. She had no idea how she survived such a miraculous blow to her senses.

“Come on.” Jame grinned. “You look like you need some air.” She grabbed Tigh’s arm and led her away from her tidy workspace. Tidy, except for the forgotten ball of thread on the floor as silent evidence that Tigh’s world had just changed forever.

A PART OF Tigh’s mystique as a Guard was that she possessed nerves as strong as the sword she wielded. She had commanded an army and had made impossible wagers and never showed a hint of fear or nervousness. She was fearless. So why were her hands trembling and her stomach fluttering too much to eat?

Tigh pulled on the soft fawn-colored leather tunic that Jame had picked out for her. After several months being encased in white cloth, the leather felt strange and familiar at the same time and the matching leggings hugged her muscular legs in a way that Jame was sure to approve of.

She peered into the tarnished mirror and ran a hand through her shaggy hair. It had grown quickly since being shaven off during the cleansing process. The eyes that gazed back at her were clearer and the haunted expression was gone.

Her sharp hearing picked up footfalls on the stairs. The assistant healer no longer kept vigil over the floor and she wasn’t expecting any visitors that morning.

As the footfalls sounded closer, Tigh closed her eyes and muttered a string of colorful oaths. Her parents paused outside the open door. She cast a passive glance at them and then grabbed a belt of twisted strands of leather and tied it around her waist.

“We’re lucky there are guest rooms in the compound, because all the rooms in town are filled.” Paldon strode into the cell followed by Joul. “The Tribunal should have had more sense than to schedule your hearing the day after the Summer Solstice.”

“You didn’t have to come.” Tigh flashed another look at them as she fetched her boots from the corner of the room.

“Of course we did,” Paldon said. “We care about what happens to you. When we saw the state you were in after your cleansing, we were desperate to do anything to make sure you made it through the rehabilitation process and be brought home where we could take care of you.”

“So you retained Rantigar to make a deal with the Federation Council,” Tigh said.

“We really thought you weren’t capable of thinking for yourself,” Paldon said. “And to be honest, we’re still worried about your emotional state.”

Tigh captured Paldon’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Your frustration and anger at Rantigar made you say some foolish things.” Paldon’s compassion softened her pale blue eyes. “We know it was just your instinct to lash out at her and we forgive you for it. But we’re worried about this irrational behavior.”

Tigh shifted her gaze between her parents before deciding she didn’t want to ruin her day with Jame. Her parents would eventually understand that everything she said during the confrontation with Rantigar was true. Maybe, by that time, they’ll be able to accept it. In the meantime, there was only one answer she wanted from them. “Why did you lie about my age when I was recruited?” She was surprised to see embarrassment and guilt on her parents’ faces.

“It was a foolish decision that we immediately regretted,” Paldon said. “As you know, they were looking for girls with the right combination of intelligence and strong physical characteristics. The younger the better because they found that a young mind took to the enhancements better than someone who was older.”

“They offered more money,” Tigh said.

“You were only a couple moons past your fifteenth birthday and so it wasn’t that far from the truth,” Paldon said. “They paid one hundred and twenty silver pieces more for a girl under fifteen. We thought it was fair, considering that they were taking our heir away from us.”

“You succeeded in embarrassing the healers in charge of rehabilitation, the Tribunal, and, let’s not forget, the Federation Council,” Tigh said. “And Rantigar lost her seat on the Council. All this for one hundred and twenty silver pieces. Why did you continue to pretend I was under legal age?”

“Because we wanted to protect you,” Paldon said in a voice that pleaded for forgiveness. “You have to believe that. As long as they thought you were underage, they were willing to let you be rehabilitated because they knew you’d be returned to our care.”

Tigh took a deep breath. “Let me think it through.” She needed Jame’s insight to lift the confusion she felt toward anything that had to do with her family and Ingor.

Paldon let out a relieved sigh and put a hand on Tigh’s arm. “That’s all we ask for.” She fingered the supple leather. “This is nice.”

“I’m going to the festival.” Tigh tried to sound matter-of-fact, but she knew a soft blush colored her face.

Her parents exchanged surprised looks.

“Alone?” Paldon asked.

“I’m going with Jame.” Tigh sat down on the cot and pulled on her boots.

“Your arbiter,” Paldon said.

“Yes.” Tigh leaned over to her trunk at the end of the cot and picked up a leather braid with purple strands of thread running through it. Jame’s sense of humor took over when she had searched for the token for them to wear. Finally, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she gave Tigh one of her Emoran princess braids. Just so there wasn’t any misunderstanding, she had explained.

“That’s an interesting accessory,” Paldon said as Tigh tied the braid to her belt.

Tigh raised a challenging brow. “It’s the braid of an Emoran princess.”

Paldon raised her own eyebrow. “You’re wearing her braid to a festival?”

“Yes.” Tigh stood and smoothed down the tunic.

Before Paldon could respond, Joul put a cautioning hand on her arm. She nodded to him and relaxed.

Tigh knew they were already thinking of several young women from Ingor’s highest society who would make a good match for her. Once she came to her senses and forgot about arbiters and everything from this world and returned to Ingor.

“You’re not worried about your hearing tomorrow?” Paldon asked.

“No.” Tigh let a glimmer of a smile touch her eyes as her parents realized their intervention hadn’t been necessary. She was making it through the rehabilitation process on her own, with the help of a wily assistant arbiter.

Paldon studied Tigh. “I hope you’re right.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Mother,” Tigh said. “Healer Bede thinks I’m the most successfully cleansed Guard they’ve ever had.”

Not giving her parents a chance to respond, she slid past them and sauntered down the corridor, humming a tune the breeze had carried through her window that morning.

“WHOA. THERE’S AN Emoran warrior in my room.”

Daneran paused in the doorway and watched Jame tie an Emoran braid onto her belt. Jame had traded the brown leathers worn by the assistant arbiters for her new set of Emoran leathers. Since a lot of the people attending the festival dressed up in whimsical clothing and costumes, she knew she could get away with wearing her Emoran clothes.

“So is this just getting into the spirit of the festival or are you sending a subtle message to the Tribunal about tomorrow?” Daneran asked.

Jame laughed. “I never even thought about that. But I can’t help what the Tribunal thinks of it.”

“Or what they’ll think about you going to the festival with your client,” Daneran said.

“They can think what they want about that, too,” Jame said.

“It’s too late now at any rate.” Daneran grinned. “I know we’ve been teasing you about it, but it’s only because we’re all envious. Solstice is a lot more fun with a special someone than attending it with a pack of friends.”

“I know. I’ve always been a part of that pack.” Jame looked at herself one more time in the long mirror and straightened the braid so it wouldn’t be hidden in the patchwork of leather.

Jadic came up behind Daneran and stared dumbfounded at Jame. “By the Children of Bal.”

Daneran looked over her shoulder and laughed. “Pick your jaw up off the floor, Jadic. I have the feeling she’s taken.”

Jame studied the floor boards, praying the statement was true.

“The lucky warrior is headed this way,” Jadic said. “She’s not looking too bad herself.”

Jame smiled at her friends. It had taken weeks but her colleagues had finally overcome their fear of Tigh and had even gotten used to her quiet shadow.

“I’d better get out there,” Jame said. “She’s still shy about coming in here.”

“Have fun.” Daneran waved as Jame stepped into the common room.

“I plan to.” Jame glanced back with an impish grin.

She skipped down the few steps of her quarters and waited for Tigh to approach, admiring the way the light-colored leathers clung to Tigh’s sleek muscular body.

Tigh strode with a graceful strength and seemed oblivious to the startled stares from the clusters of people gathered to go to the festival. Jame couldn’t keep away a silly grin and it was answered by a shy smile from Tigh.

“Those leathers look really nice on you,” Jame said when Tigh stopped in front of her. The strong confidence that was apparent when Tigh walked turned into a bashful slump.

Tigh cast furtive admiring glances at Jame. “You’re beautiful.” She blushed that she had said it out loud and studied the adobe bricks beneath her feet.

Jame forgot to breathe. Those were bold words from the reticent Tigh and they went straight to her heart. She grasped Tigh’s hand and waited for her to lift her eyes. “Let’s go enjoy the festival.”

Jame lead Tigh to the city gate into the already surging brightly dressed crowds. Street corner magicians summoned multicolored displays of lights. Wandering jugglers kept balls and odd shaped trinkets in the air. Children with long rainbow ribbons fluttering out behind them darted around clusters of adults.

“Singing.” As if pulled by the music itself, Jame tugged Tigh in the direction of the melodious voices. The listeners surrounding the choir were so packed together that Jame couldn’t see any way to winnow through them to get a clearer view. She stared forlornly at the backs of the listeners and sighed.

Tigh leaned into Jame’s ear. “Do you want to see the choir?”