Future Dreams (27 page)

“Let’s see your arbiter’s medallion,” the pier master said.

Jame pulled the medallion from beneath her tunic and held it so the pier master could read the name inscribed on it. “Do you want to see my Emoran braid?”

“Is there anyone who can verify these papers?” The pier master ignored the question.

“I can.” Tigh stepped next to Jame and handed her papers over.

The pier master looked up at Tigh and then at her papers. “You’re a peace warrior and a member of the House of Tigis?”

“That’s right.” Tigh raised an eyebrow. “Since when did Ingor question arbiters-at-large?”

“We’ve been careful with all foreigners since the end of the Wars,” the pier master said. “If you were truly Ingoran you would know that.”

“This is the first time I’ve been here since I was recruited to serve in the Wars seven years ago.” Tigh pulled her discharge papers from her pouch.

The woman read through the papers. She looked up at Tigh and her expression lost much of its arrogance. She handed the papers back to both of them. “You may pass.”

When they were halfway down the pier, Jame vented her anger. “How dare she even question an arbiter’s papers.”

“It looks as if the Wars have changed Ingor.” Tigh steered Jame to where several young girls and boys held the horses that had been liberated from the ship’s hold.

Gessen stamped an impatient greeting as Tigh murmured an apology and a promise of some nice big apples.

“I’m not used to being treated with suspicion,” Jame said as Tigh led the way off the pier and up a jagged street.

“The Wars have made people more suspicious, less open than they were before,” Tigh said. “Perhaps that will fade with time.”

“It’s the Emoran papers,” Jame said. “Will our joining make me an Ingoran citizen?”

Tigh stopped walking and turned to Jame. “Yes.”

“Good,” Jame said. “It’s only fair, after all. When we’re joined in Emoria, you’ll become an Emoran citizen.”

“It’ll be good for Ingor to have to call an Emoran a citizen,” Tigh said.

Jame grinned and grabbed Tigh’s arm and they continued their journey through the crooked streets of Ingor.

Chapter 20

Tigh didn’t want to leave Gessen in the lower stables her family maintained so she led the way past neat small residences splashed with whites and yellows. The wide road switched back up the hill until only a few residences lined each segment of the road.

“The main business establishments for the most successful merchants are down there.” She pointed to a flat area with wide boulevards and sprawling buildings. “They’re easily accessible from the harbor and the overland roads.”

Jame nodded. “The success of a merchant has a lot to do with where their business is.”

Tigh grinned. “But they first have to be successful to build a business there. The residences for all those merchants are at the tops of these hills. At the bottom of the hills the houses are quite small and they get larger as they go up, depending on the success of the merchants who own them.”

Jame, used to the climbing the Phytian Mountains, thought nothing of rambling up the hill. She gawked at the high stone walls broken by an occasional iron fence, allowing a glimpse of homes that looked as if they cascaded down the steep incline of the hill.

“What’s that?” She frowned as they passed a gully lined with precisely placed stones. Long thick ropes ran down the middle of the trench like a waterfall of hemp.

“That’s the lane for the pulley trolley,” Tigh said.

“Pulley trolley?” Jame looked up and down the stone bed, noting that the ropes were wrapped around a series of wheels at the top of the hill. The bottom of the gully was too far away for her to get more than a glimpse of what appeared to be a blue painted wooden box.

Tigh shrugged. “That’s how the residents go up and down the hills.”

Jame looked around them in puzzlement. “This is a perfectly good road.”

“Ingorans aren’t raised to engage in strenuous physical activity,” Tigh said.

“They think this little walk is strenuous?” Jame frowned. They continued around another curve that switched them back to a flattened out narrow lane, signifying they were at the top of the hill. “They should try getting around Emor.”

Tigh turned and smiled at Jame. “Steep?”

“Emor is in a canyon with towering walls of stone,” Jame said. “The shops and taverns are on the canyon floor but the homes are above them all the way up to the meadows. We get around on narrow paths cut into the walls.”

“If Emor had been settled by Ingorans, they would have figured out a way of getting around without having to exert themselves,” Tigh said.

They rounded a soft curve and a gate the width of the lane stood in their way. The entire design of the iron was a giant H and T, leaving little doubt they had arrived at the House of Tigis.

Jame stared through the gate at the large stone buildings surrounded by a neat green lawn and small gardens bursting with cheerful colors and sculpted figures.

Tigh stepped to the side of the gate and pulled on a heavy rope. A bell, housed in a small turret perched on the stone wall, sounded.

“This is where you grew up?” Jame couldn’t reconcile the unpretentious Tigh with the strong statements of wealth and high social standing coming from the estate.

“Yes,” Tigh said.

A young man in the blue and purple colors of the House of Tigis stepped out of a small stone building twenty paces inside the gate. Wearing the self-important smirk of an employee of Tigis, he made a show of sauntering to what appeared to be visitors of no importance.

Jame furrowed her brow at this behavior but kept quiet after seeing the not so amused expression on Tigh’s face.

“You’ve made a wrong turn.” The young man waved a bored hand when several paces from the gate. “You can’t get through this way.”

“We haven’t made a wrong turn,” Tigh said.

He squinted at them. “What do you want?”

Tigh raised an eyebrow. “We want in. We’re here for the joining of Paldar Tigis and Jamelin Ketlas, princess of Emoria.”

Jame just barely kept from grinning. She loved this playful side of Tigh.

“Paldar Tigis?” The young man’s expression got caught between a sneer of disdain, a flicker of fright, and a look of uncertainty. “She’s not here and we haven’t heard of any joining.”

“She’s not there because she’s here.” Tigh captured the young man’s eyes with her own. “Once she’s there she’ll make sure everyone knows about the joining.”

The young man swallowed and his eyes widened with the realization of who Tigh was.

He ran to the side of the gate and tugged on a wooden lever that, through an iron mechanism suspended over the gate, pulled the two halves apart and outward.

“Thank you,” Tigh said over her shoulder as she led Gessen onto the grounds with Jame at her side.

When they were far enough away from the servant, Jame turned to Tigh. “I can see why you wanted to leave.”

Tigh laughed. She laid an arm across Jame’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Come on. Let’s go scare some more high and mighty employees of the House of Tigis.”

EVER SINCE JYAC made the official announcement from the palace balcony earlier that day, she had expected any number of responses to trickle back to her, but silence hadn’t been one of them.

She stepped into the square of the quiet city. No hammering from the smithy, no chattering wafting down from various parts of the bluffs . . . only the Temple bells clanging together in the slight breeze. A quick glance around the top perimeter of the city assured her the sentries were still at their stations. She knew where her people had gone. The same place she’d have gone if she had heard news that was difficult to accept. For some reason, Jame’s popularity always took her by surprise.

Jyac fetched Ronalyn from her daily study of the ancient scrolls in the archives and they walked up one of the paths leading to the meadow above the city.

Before them, the women of Emor were gathered in a solemn silent prayer for their wayward princess. The Elders Council stood with heads bowed in the middle of the ceremonial circle. It looked to be a spontaneous gathering, as if everyone needed to seek solace in each other.

“They think Jame has turned her back on them.” Jyac pulled a scroll from her belt pouch and studied it for a heartbeat.

“I think that will help them understand,” Ronalyn said.

Jyac nodded and they passed between a series of intricately carved posts that marked the traditional entryway into the ceremonial circle. They walked past the Elders’ tight ring in the center of the circle to the raised platform on the opposite outer rim.

The Elders broke their circle of meditation and rearranged themselves into a half circle facing their queen.

Gindor leveled steely eyes at Jyac. “Have you finally come to pray for Laur to give your niece and heir the guidance she needs to find her way home?”

“No.” Jyac held up the scroll. “I’ve come to let Jame tell her people in her own words why she’s taken this other path before she returns to Emoria.”

A low murmur rippled through the attentive women.

“As you wish, my queen.” Gindor bowed. “And I accept that we’re divided on this issue.”

“You’re gathered here to entreat Laur to give Jame guidance to bring her home to Emoria,” Jyac began. From where she stood in the ceremonial circle her words could be easily heard throughout the meadow. The Emorans accepted the phenomenon as a gift from Laur. “I ask that you pray for a safe journey for Jame as she pursues her life outside our borders.”

“How can you ask us to give her our blessing?” Argis asked in an anguished voice. With a face distorted in anger, she strode into the circle and stood before Jyac. “She’s chosen to wander all over the place with that woman as a companion. She’s going to be joined to that woman in a foreign ceremony.”

“We had a choice.” Jyac straightened and swept her eyes over the gathered women. “We had a choice to bring Jame home against her will or let her decide what she wants to do with her life. Bringing her home against her will would risk breaking her down emotionally or cause her to rebel and leave us forever. Jame is destined to be Queen of Emoria, we must learn to trust her decisions and she must learn from her mistakes so she can grow strong and wise. We’ve not had any indication that Jame and that former Guard are not sincere in their feelings for each other and for the life they’ve chosen to follow. Argis, I know it hurts, but you must remember, even if she did return to Emoria, she wouldn’t have been joined with you.”

Argis clenched her fists. “I stand in defiance to the queen on this issue. I could eventually learn to live with the knowledge that Jame no longer loved me, but I can’t live with the knowledge that she has willingly chosen to share her life with that Guard.”

“Your defiance on this issue is accepted, Argis,” Jyac said. “But let me give you a friendly warning. If you take it upon yourself to do something about that Guard, Jame may choose never to set foot in Emoria again. Which means you’d better not set foot in Emoria again if you drove your future queen away from her place among us.”

“I understand, my queen.” Argis straightened, slipped her sword from its scabbard, and whipped it into a salute.

“Thank you, Argis.” Jyac accepted the salute with relief. “Now open your ears and your hearts and hear what your princess has to say.”

Jyac read Jame’s impassioned letter—of her need to prove that her people could trust her judgment and her need to pursue being an arbiter so she could learn to be a wise and just queen. Jame spoke of her love for Emoria and how she was hurt by the idea her people thought she’d bring harm to them. Because of that she would only return when they accepted her life companion as a citizen and royal consort.

The rest of the day was spent in thoughtful discussion and, much to Jyac’s relief, ended with all her people bowing heads in prayer for Jame’s happiness and safety in whatever path she chose to take.

JAME HAD ENVISIONED Tigh’s sisters to look like her. She certainly hadn’t expected identical twins with the coloring of Joul and the personality of Paldon.

A dark-haired young man with weak brown eyes and a mild demeanor trailed Pandon, the oldest twin. They had just recently been joined and Jame caught Pandon glancing with affection at the young man. Patlin, the younger twin, held hands with a confident looking red-haired girl and was engaged in an animated discussion with Tigh.

“I hope to get to the Phytian Mountains some time,” Juon said. At eighteen, he was a male version of his oldest sister, tall and muscular with soft blue eyes and black hair.

“They’re the most beautiful in the spring when the flowers are in bloom,” Jame said. “Although Ingor is a wonderful looking city.”

“You must get Tigh to take you to the Arcade down on Merchant’s Square,” Juon said. “It’s the largest shopping arcade in the Southern Territories.”

“I’ll be sure we see it on our next visit to Ingor,” Jame said. “We won’t have time this trip. We’ll be leaving right after the joining tomorrow.”

“Leaving so soon?” Juon sounded genuinely disappointed. “I thought you’d stay around a while. Tigh has been away a long time.”

Jame smiled at how easily the younger generation got into the habit of using Tigh’s Guard name. “We’ll be back for Patlin’s joining, but we have a job to do.”

Pandon and Patlin and their respective companions waved across the room at Jame and Juon and then pushed through one of the doors leading to the endless terraces that surrounded the main house.

Tigh joined Jame and pulled her close. “You’re not going to the concert?” she asked Juon.

Juon shrugged. “I’m meeting some friends at Bushra’s Hideaway.”

“Do the parents know?” Tigh lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Uh, no,” Juon said. “You won’t tell them will you?”

Tigh laughed. “Of course not. Enjoy yourself.”

“You’re the best, Tigh.” Juon laughed and trotted out of the chamber into the main hall of the house.

“Which leaves just the two of us.” Jame wrapped her arms around Tigh.

“My parents won’t be back until late.” Tigh looked around the airy garden room. “The Guild meetings are usually long and tedious.”