Future Dreams (16 page)

An amused Pendon Larke, with arms crossed, looked down at them. “I really hate to interrupt but you’re between me and the book I’m after.”

Tigh stood, dragging Jame up with her. “Sorry.”

Pendon strolled past them then turned around. “You can continue your discussion. I’ll be a while.”

JAME PEERED OUT of the coach window with relief as they finally broke free of a thick humid forest with trees that reached as high as the cliffs of Emoria. Glaus, fashioned from these extraordinary trees, looked as if a rainbow exploded over the patch of cleared land clinging to the western edge of Glaus Harbor. A typical seaport city, Glaus sprawled away from the Cerasus Ocean in a patchwork of painted wooden buildings leaning against each other with all the grace of the drunken sailors that roamed the waterfront.

“Have you ever been to Glaus?” Jame asked her quiet companion.

Indot, a lean and muscular woman, closer to Jyac’s age than Jame’s, pulled away from own thoughts to focus on Jame. “Once or twice,” she said with the economy of words that was as much a characteristic of warriors as their weapons skills.

Jame settled back into her seat and studied the peace warrior assigned to her. A chaperone more like it, she scowled to herself. She wished Tigh sat across from her.

The clatter of the coach’s wheels against cobblestones alerted Jame that they had entered the city. A jumble of colors passed by as the buildings closed in around them. After a long day of travel, the coach finally lurched to a halt in front of a dirty white building.

Jame shouldered her pack and jumped from the vehicle. Never had she spent so long sitting in one place, much less a place that constantly rocked and bumped.

Indot shouldered her own pack and spoke a few words to their driver. She then led Jame through the aged double doors of the building. After the late afternoon sun, the large entry chamber was as dim as a cavern.

When her eyes adjusted, Jame could discern the dark wood that cast the chamber into an invariable gloom. A half moon service table with a pair of bored looking clerks behind it occupied the middle of the chamber.

Indot strode to the table as Jame lagged behind, taking in the benches filled with bleak-faced families and friends of defendants. She observed the well-dressed arbiters exchanging high-toned postures and attitudes and felt better about her position as a volunteer arbiter for a defendant who was unable to afford the fees that fed those arbiters’ egos.

By the time Jame reached the half moon table, Indot had retrieved the documents for her case. She held out a quill to her.

Jame signed in and the bored clerk nodded at the double arching staircase that dominated the back section of the chamber.

“Right stairs, next floor. Tell the attendant you want to see Aft Lindigan,” the clerk mumbled.

With each step upward, Jame felt a shiver of anticipation. She was about to tackle her first case outside the sheltered domain of the military compound. This was what she thought she wanted to do with her life. Now came the test of whether reality fit her dreams.

TIGH WAS MISERABLE. Not feeling like eating, she roamed the compound as the summer sun stretched the day into night. She decided she just didn’t dislike being separated from Jame, she hated it. The uncertainty of whether Jame was all right or not devoured her thoughts.

She knew her reaction was extreme. After all, Jame was only to be gone a few days and the school went out of its way to get her a case that wasn’t dangerous. She ran a hand through her hair. Reasonable logic had nothing to do with how she felt about Jame.

Her feet seemed to know what was best for her, even if her mind didn’t. She stared at the infirmary door for several heartbeats. Bede would still be there despite the late hour. The infirmary was his life and he was as reluctant to be away from it as she was to be separated from Jame.

She pushed the door open and nodded to the assistant healer who oversaw the injury ward at night. At the threshold of the ward, she scanned the half empty cots and focused on a side door. Her keen hearing picked up Bede’s soothing whispers over the tearful whimpers of a child. Tigh followed the sounds like metal to a magnet.

SIMPLE STRAIGHTFORWARD CASE, indeed. Jame soaked up the insincerity in the bright innocent gaze of Aft Lindigan. The attractive sixteen-year-old was charged with going against a joining contract with the owner of a popular tavern. Aft insisted he’d been lured into the contract with promises that Hendigard, the tavern owner, would hire Aft’s older sisters. According to Hendigard, the contract made no reference to the hiring of these siblings and she was not obligated to honor any offhand statements she had made concerning their employment, especially before she met them.

Hendigard had made one mistake and that was what made it a simple straightforward case, especially for someone with Jame’s abilities. Because Aft was illiterate, Hendigard gave in to his request to enter into a verbal contract before witnesses rather than a written contract. The agreed upon witnesses seemed reputable enough for Hendigard but they later swore in written documents that she had promised to hire Aft’s sisters as a part of the joining contract.

Hendigard had been too busy with her business to bother with minor details such as checking out the witnesses. After all, she had no reason to suspect any ulterior motives from the young man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Ulterior motives. They hit Jame in the face from the first moment Aft opened his mouth. The sweet tongued young man was sorry for the misunderstanding and although he dearly loved Hendigard, he had an obligation to his only living family, who for reasons he couldn’t understand had problems finding work. He was willing to let Hendigard out of the contract for only the silver that she had offered as the traditional joining gift, symbolizing a prosperous start for the joined couple.

After listening to three sandmarks of deliberately worded testimony from the witnesses and from Aft’s equally smooth-tongued sisters, Jame knew she was being used in a ruse to relieve Hendigard of her hard earned silver.

She also knew she had to withdraw from the case.

An arbiter’s job was twofold within the judicial system of the Southern Territories. They could either serve as a judge for cases, or they could choose to argue a case before a judge. Jame excelled at judging but couldn’t bring herself to present a case when she knew her client was guilty.

And in this case, not only was her client guilty of breaking the contract but guilty of conspiring to enter into the contract for the purpose of getting silver out of Hendigard.

She wished Ingel was there to counsel her on what to do. After enduring the hard glares from Aft’s sisters, who were veterans of the Grappian Wars, she wished Tigh stood behind her rather than Indot.

She hoped she could remove herself from the case before her aunt heard about it. Jyac would know she had been in Glaus because she was staying in an Emoran safe house. If she got lucky, details of the case wouldn’t reach Emoria.

She thanked Laur and all her sisters when the judging arbiter called a recess for the day before she had to opportunity to present her argument. That gave her one night to find a way out of this mess.

TIGH RAISED HER head and stared at the paper-strewn desk in confusion. She had fallen asleep while indexing the new folios for the archives. She squinted at assistant archivist Treyar who was watching her and gave her a sheepish shrug. Treyar replied with an understanding smile.

Surprised that it was almost time for the evening meal, she stood from the hard wooden bench and stretched out her long muscles.

“Try to get some sleep tonight,” Treyar said.

Tigh shrugged. “I’ll try.”

A PAIR OF city guards blocked Jame’s and Indot’s path within sight of the door engraved with a sword and bow.

One of the guards pointed at Indot. “You’re to be taken into custody for disturbing the peace last night.”

“She’s a peace warrior,” Jame said. “How could she have been disturbing the peace?”

“She was involved in a drunken brawl with some sailors outside the Ship and Sail,” the guard said.

“Were the sailors injured in this brawl?” Jame crossed her arms, ready to challenge every word the guard uttered.

The guard straightened. “According to the report, one has a bad gash on the back of the head and another has a broken jaw.”

Jame lifted Indot’s hands. “Are these hands swollen or bruised from hitting someone in the jaw?”

“If she’s innocent, she’ll be set free,” the guard said.

“I have to go with them, Jame,” Indot said. “It’s probably a case of mistaken identity. Send word back to Ynit and tell them what has happened.”

“I will.” Jame nodded as the guards flanked Indot and they walked down the street. “We’ll get you out.”

Jame approached the Sword and Bow and was not pleased to see Aft’s sisters lounging in front of the door. She straightened and continued walking, determined to brush past them but they blocked her way.

“Too bad about your warrior.” The one called Sed flipped a small knife.

“The lies you told will be disproved.” Jame put her warrior training to use and leveled cold steady eyes at the pair.

“That’s true.” Sed shrugged with a sneering grin. “But by that time you’ll have won our brother’s case for us.”

Jame looked the burley sisters up and down. “Or you’ll do what to her?”

“So. The little arbiter is a sharp one,” Sed said, flipping the knife between her hands. “We’ll kill her.” Her sister, Gerd, joined her in a mean chuckle. “Have a nice evening. Arbiter.”

The sisters laughed even harder and stepped out of her way. Jame walked past them and rapped on the door. Balwen, the proprietor, let her in.

Jame stepped into the narrow corridor and took a few heartbeats to calm down. She was in trouble and she had only one slim trick to play.

“Are you all right?” Balwen put a hand on Jame’s arm. “Where’s your shadow?”

Jame took a few deep breaths and then launched her brain into action. “She’s been arrested on false charges.” She ignored Balwen’s shocked expression. “I need two things. I need to get a message back to Ynit to let them know what’s going on here. Is there anyone here who can do that as quickly as possible?”

Balwen nodded. “My sister’s daughter is a scout. She’ll do it.”

“The second thing I need to do is get a message to the judging arbiter saying I won’t be able to argue the case until my peace warrior has been replaced.” That would, at least, give her more time to work out a strategy.

Balwen frowned. “Will the arbiter go for that?”

“Fortunately for me, it’s a part of the arbiter bylaws,” Jame said. “If it’s been deemed necessary that an arbiter needs a peace warrior, then the hearing must be postponed until a peace warrior has been provided.”

In the meantime, all she had to do was keep both Indot and herself away from the wrath of the Lindigan sisters. She’d have given anything to hear Tigh’s reassuring voice at that moment.

Chapter 13

After another long night in the children’s ward, Tigh wandered into the mess hall frequented by the soldiers in the compound. The tables were full as soldiers coming off night duty mixed with those about to start their day.

Tigh, too exhausted to care, propped up against the wall next to the door and waited for a vacant spot on a bench.

She heard Jame’s name and realized she’d dozed off. She opened her eyes and saw a young woman in Emoran leathers and Kartlin, the peace warrior coordinator, at the door.

“What do you mean, Indot was arrested?” Kartlin asked. “A drunken brawl? Indot has never touched anything stronger than spiced tea.”

“That’s all I know.” The young Emoran was clearly intimidated by the roomful of noisy soldiers.

Kartlin read something on a piece of paper. “We have to get Jame out of there.” She turned and strode out the door followed by the bewildered Emoran.

Tigh took all of two heartbeats to clear the haze from her brain, rush out the door, and trot down the corridor to the central stairs. Her determined footfalls, as she ran up the steps, echoed through the deserted upper floors of the fortress.

Once in her cell, she turned around several times, trying to focus on what she had to do to get to Glaus. “Come on. You can do this.”

First things first. She couldn’t go anywhere in her white rehabilitation uniform. She dropped to her knees, opened her trunk with shaking hands, and removed the fawn-colored tunic and leggings.

Just the feel of the leather hugging her body boosted her confidence enough to overcome the nervous flutters in her empty stomach. She hadn’t had any normal interactions with the real world since she became a Guard and before that, her outside experiences had been limited.

Jame was in trouble and she had to get to Glaus. That’s all that mattered.

“How do I get there?” Tigh’s exhausted mind stalled on the idea of impenetrable distance. “How did Jame get there?”

She thanked Bal for the generous pension granted the former Guards and she dug deeper into her trunk for a heavy leather bag. She stared into the bag at the pile of silver. How much did it cost to hire a coach to Glaus? Frustrated at her lack of everyday knowledge, she grabbed a handful of pieces and stuffed them into her belt pouch.

She looked at herself in the tarnished mirror and was shocked to see a pale face with unkempt hair and swollen, red eyes blinking back at her.

She turned to leave, but a nagging void kept her feet in place. Something was missing. She pulled from her trunk a small sheath holding a delicate knife. It would do, she nodded as she tied the sheath to her belt.

Without any more hesitation she rushed out the door and ran down the corridor. They could do whatever they wanted to her for leaving the compound without permission. Nothing, even her rehabilitation, was more important than saving Jame.

THE PROBLEM WITH Emorans who were several generations removed from the home territory, was they had an exaggerated idea of proper Emoran behavior in certain situations. The pocket of Emorans who maintained the safe house and the blades shop next door had a great desire to help their princess. Unfortunately, they could only think of two actions that were true to what they thought was the Emoran way.