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Authors: T.J. Mindancer
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tried to convince my mentor I didn’t think you were of danger to any of us. I mean, I grew up around warriors. My aunt would laugh at the school’s idea of danger.” Jame paused again, hoping for some response. But Tigh didn’t even twitch a muscle. “Anyway, all my well-meaning colleagues volunteered because it meant so much to me. You didn’t accept any of them so I finally convinced my mentor to let me give it a try.”
The silence lengthened until Jame was certain Tigh wasn’t going to speak.
“Anyway, that’s why I’m here. I want to argue your case. If you want me as your arbiter, I’ll return tomorrow with a first draft of the argument.” Jame watched Tigh’s nervous swallow and her eyes looking inward rather than at the ceiling. “All you have to do is agree to the preparation of the case. You’ll always have the choice to pursue it or not.” Another swallow rippled through Tigh’s powerful throat. “Just say yes or no.”
Silence enveloped them and Jame could hear voices rising up from the plaza. She stood and took one last look at Tigh.
“Yes.”
The word was so soft that Jame barely caught it. She froze and gazed through the bars, but Tigh still refused to look at her. “Thank you.”
TIGH RAISED HER eyes to whatever deity oversaw her destiny and tried to let what just happened penetrate her tired, confused mind.
By the Children of Bal, that arbiter was the one.
She wound the astonishing thought through in her mind until she was convinced it hadn’t been a hallucination or dream. For the first time since her cleansing, a tentative hope mingled on the fragrant breeze blowing in through the window.
STILL A LITTLE dazed from her strange encounter with the former Tigh the Terrible, Jame wandered into her room and stared in surprise at all the assistant arbiters there. She looked at Daneran. “Are we having a party?”
“You were gone long enough. Where have you been?” Daneran asked.
“I’ve been with Tigh.” A dozen bodies rushed her way and she took refuge in the common room. She held up her hands to fend off her colleagues. “Whoa. You’re more dangerous than Tigh the Terrible.”
The arbiters stopped their advance and chuckled at Jame and themselves. Ingel walked out of corridor to her chambers and leaned a shoulder against the wall.
“So tell us what happened.” Jadic looked ready to explode from curiosity.
Jame shrugged. “There really isn’t much to tell. I told her why I was there and why I wanted to argue her case and she agreed to it.”
“She listened?” Swene asked, astonished.
“She spoke?” Jadic’s eyebrows disappeared under his bangs.
“She listened and then she said yes,” Jame said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an argument to write.”
Her friends all spoke at once and barred the way back to her room.
“Why would she accept you and not any of us?” Tanerle, the most ambitious of the group, powered her tall imposing body to Jame.
“Weren’t you afraid?” Swene asked.
“She was on the other side of a locked door. Why would I be afraid?” Jame gave Swene a puzzled look before turning her attention to Tanerle. “Only Tigh knows the answer to your question.”
“Don’t give me that, you smooth talking Emoran,” Tanerle said. “I want to know what you did to make her listen to you when she didn’t let us utter more than a syllable.”
Jame glanced at Ingel, who raised an eyebrow back. “I just gave the answer. To Swene. Let me ask a question in return. If you were looking for an arbiter to argue a case for you, would you choose one who was too frightened to even face you?”
Ingel stepped into the circle of stunned arbiters. “This is a valuable lesson for any arbiter to learn. Always try to see the situation through your client’s eyes. Just because you’re an arbiter doesn’t mean people will overlook what you may consider a natural reaction, such as fear, toward a client or toward one of the two parties
The silence lengthened until Jame was certain Tigh wasn’t going to speak.
“Anyway, that’s why I’m here. I want to argue your case. If you want me as your arbiter, I’ll return tomorrow with a first draft of the argument.” Jame watched Tigh’s nervous swallow and her eyes looking inward rather than at the ceiling. “All you have to do is agree to the preparation of the case. You’ll always have the choice to pursue it or not.” Another swallow rippled through Tigh’s powerful throat. “Just say yes or no.”
Silence enveloped them and Jame could hear voices rising up from the plaza. She stood and took one last look at Tigh.
“Yes.”
The word was so soft that Jame barely caught it. She froze and gazed through the bars, but Tigh still refused to look at her. “Thank you.”
TIGH RAISED HER eyes to whatever deity oversaw her destiny and tried to let what just happened penetrate her tired, confused mind.
By the Children of Bal, that arbiter was the one.
She wound the astonishing thought through in her mind until she was convinced it hadn’t been a hallucination or dream. For the first time since her cleansing, a tentative hope mingled on the fragrant breeze blowing in through the window.
STILL A LITTLE dazed from her strange encounter with the former Tigh the Terrible, Jame wandered into her room and stared in surprise at all the assistant arbiters there. She looked at Daneran. “Are we having a party?”
“You were gone long enough. Where have you been?” Daneran asked.
“I’ve been with Tigh.” A dozen bodies rushed her way and she took refuge in the common room. She held up her hands to fend off her colleagues. “Whoa. You’re more dangerous than Tigh the Terrible.”
The arbiters stopped their advance and chuckled at Jame and themselves. Ingel walked out of corridor to her chambers and leaned a shoulder against the wall.
“So tell us what happened.” Jadic looked ready to explode from curiosity.
Jame shrugged. “There really isn’t much to tell. I told her why I was there and why I wanted to argue her case and she agreed to it.”
“She listened?” Swene asked, astonished.
“She spoke?” Jadic’s eyebrows disappeared under his bangs.
“She listened and then she said yes,” Jame said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an argument to write.”
Her friends all spoke at once and barred the way back to her room.
“Why would she accept you and not any of us?” Tanerle, the most ambitious of the group, powered her tall imposing body to Jame.
“Weren’t you afraid?” Swene asked.
“She was on the other side of a locked door. Why would I be afraid?” Jame gave Swene a puzzled look before turning her attention to Tanerle. “Only Tigh knows the answer to your question.”
“Don’t give me that, you smooth talking Emoran,” Tanerle said. “I want to know what you did to make her listen to you when she didn’t let us utter more than a syllable.”
Jame glanced at Ingel, who raised an eyebrow back. “I just gave the answer. To Swene. Let me ask a question in return. If you were looking for an arbiter to argue a case for you, would you choose one who was too frightened to even face you?”
Ingel stepped into the circle of stunned arbiters. “This is a valuable lesson for any arbiter to learn. Always try to see the situation through your client’s eyes. Just because you’re an arbiter doesn’t mean people will overlook what you may consider a natural reaction, such as fear, toward a client or toward one of the two parties
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