T.J. Mindancer - Future Dreams

by T. J. Mindancer

  Daneran gave Jame a knowing look. “You mean Tigh isn’t trying hard to be successful for you?”

  Jame stared at Daneran. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean,” Daneran said. “You’ve suddenly found something more interesting than studying all the time and she acts like a bashful puppy when she’s with you. Then our studious little Jame is in the middle of a confrontation between a jealous Emoran warrior and a former Guard. And all this time we thought that your whole life was going to class and doing homework.”

  “Argis is an old friend.” Jame sighed at Daneran’s raised eyebrow. “All right. She’s more than an old friend but that’s over now.” She caught her breath at the words that had tumbled out. It really was over, she marveled, and her mind felt lighter and freer. “We entered into an understanding when we were both very young. Long before I came here. During my last visit home, I didn’t have the heart to tell her my feelings had changed. I thought that it was just the pressure from being so close to finishing my studies. Then I met Tigh. Argis had found out that I was arguing Tigh’s case and thought I was in some kind of danger from her.”

  Jadic poked his head through the open doorway. “Ingel wants to see you, Jame.”

  Jame rolled her eyes. “All right. Thanks, Jadic.”

  “What about your story?” Daneran asked.

  “I’ll tell you the rest later,” Jame said.

  She smoothed down her tunic and stepped past Jadic into the common room.

  She entered Ingel’s chambers and knew that this meeting had nothing to do with her studies. The furrow between Ingel’s brows as she studied a sheet of paper on her desk had Jame wondering what kind of trouble she could possibly be in.

  “This is a letter from the Tribunal informing me a soldier has been assigned to you for as long as you represent Tigh.” Ingel held up the sheet of paper. “If this case has put you in some kind of danger, you know I have to remove you from it.”

  Jame sank into the visitors chair. She had forgotten about Tigh’s request and how it would impact the school’s agreement with her aunt. Why did things have to be so complicated? Fortunately, Tigh had explained the true situation over the midday meal.

  “Are you familiar with the Ingoran code of honor?” Jame asked.

  “If an Ingoran catches another Ingoran engaged in embarrassing or illegal trade practices, then the Ingoran is honor bound not to report this lapse of judgment if the other Ingoran ceases the activity,” Ingel said.

  “Tigh caught Rantigar,” Jame said. “It seems that Tigh’s parents retained Rantigar to get Tigh legally turned over to them. And it may have worked if they had been forthcoming about Tigh’s true age.”

  Ingel frowned. “That information was collected when Tigh was recruited.”

  “When I reminded Tigh of that, we stopped in the records chamber and discovered she had been listed as being only fourteen when she was recruited instead of fifteen. Her parents had signed the document,” Jame said. “Tigh can’t understand how such a mistake could have happened because merchants never sign anything without thoroughly reading it.”

  “But what does that have to do with you being in danger?” Ingel asked.

  “Ingorans don’t take on a less than desirable commission unless they’re certain about it,” Jame said. “Rantigar wouldn’t have risked her standing as a representative of the Federation Council if she thought she couldn’t deliver a rehabilitated Tigh to her parents. Being the first born daughter, Tigh is the heir to the House of Tigis and Rantigar, thinking like any other Ingoran, was sure she wouldn’t jeopardize that by antagonizing her parents. Under any other circumstances this would be true. But before Tigh was recruited, she was secretly studying for the entrance exams to the University of Artocia and was planning on running away on her sixteenth birthday if her parents didn’t agree to her wishes.”

  Ingel fell back in her chair. “That explains what has baffled everyone since she was enhanced. No one could figure out how an apprentice merchant could turn into such a ruthless monster.”

  “She was a gentle and studious person. Her parents had lamented she was too softhearted for the merchant business,” Jame said. “So Rantigar’s argument that her parents wanted her back into the family fold didn’t have the intended impact on Tigh. Not even when Rantigar said the Federation Council had already accepted a return to Ingor and to the family business as a condition for Tigh’s rehabilitation.”

  “By Bal’s Children,” Ingel said.

  “But they wanted Tigh to have an Ingoran arbiter,” Jame said. “Tigh wants me to continue as her arbiter. When Rantigar cited the incident last night, saying Tigh shouldn’t have been in an Emoran safe house, she reminded her that she was twenty-two and could do what she wanted. Rantigar was not expecting this little fact to come out and scrambled to cover her argument up to that point. But Tigh told her she had waited until her twenty-second birthday to be captured so she wouldn’t be legally bound to her parents.”

  “What?”

  “Tigh then apologized to Sitas, saying if she had known that Rantigar had been retained by her parents she would have warned the Tribunal,” Jame said. “Then she requested to have a soldier assigned to me for as long as I represented her because I stood in the way of allowing her to fulfill her contract with Tigh’s parents. But it’ll really be until Tigh can get a message to her parents, instructing them to settle their business with Rantigar and she’s free of the contractual obligations.”

  “Ingorans have always thrived on intrigue,” Ingel said.

  “I’ll be honest with you,” Jame said. “Tigh thinks I was in danger as long as Rantigar thought she could deliver Tigh and collect her commission. But that changed when Tigh caught her. Rantigar is honor bound to end the agreement she has with Tigh’s parents.”

  “That’s true,” Ingel said, “but I don’t want to have to explain Ingoran honor codes to your aunt if anything happens to you.”

  “Let me put it another way.” Jame sat up and scooted to the edge of the seat. “What would happen if you took me off Tigh’s case?”

  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,” B
ede 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.”