Glory pressed her palms together and bowed her head over them. “I am sorry for the loss of your loved one, Lariah.”
“Thank you, Glory,” Lariah replied with a sad smile.
“I’m glad to know that the Fates lent a hand in returning the Owlfen to their people,” Glory said after a moment. “Perhaps they will aid me in returning the Tigren to you, as well.”
“We can only hope and pray that’s the case,” Lariah said. “Well, that, and assist you in every way we can.”
“Hello Lariah, Trey, Val,” a petite woman with long, straight, golden brown hair and light blue eyes said as she entered the waiting room.
“Hello Honey,” Lariah said, standing up. “I hope this isn’t too inconvenient for you.”
“Not at all,” Honey said, smiling as she gestured for them to follow her. “Come on back to my office.”
Once Trey had fetched a couple of extra chairs and they were all crowded into the little office Honey shared with Doc, Lariah introduced Honey and Glory. “It’s nice to meet you, Glory,” Honey said. “Nica told me about you.”
“She is a special child,” Glory said. “You look much like her.”
“She’s my baby sister,” Honey said. “Our mother passed away when Nica was born, so I’ve raised her as though she were a daughter to me. She truly is a joy. So, you’d like me to see if you have a psychic talent, is that correct?”
“Yes,” Glory said. “I’ve never experienced anything like the abilities Lariah has spoken of, though.”
Honey got up from behind her desk and rolled her chair closer to where Glory sat. Then she held out one hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, Glory placed one of her gloved hands in Honey’s.
“This would probably work better without the glove,” Honey said.
Glory froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. Then she swallowed hard and began to remove her glove.
“No, wait,” Honey said. “How about if I just place a hand on your forearm instead?”
“Will that work?” Glory asked.
“Sure,” Honey said. “I just get a better connection of I can touch your skin. It doesn’t matter if it’s your hand or not.” Glory held out her arm, hiding her relief as Honey wrapped her fingers around her wrist just above the edge of the glove.
“Just relax as much as you can,” Honey said softly. “This will only take a moment.”
Glory tried to do as Honey asked, but her mind was racing as fast as her heart. She wasn’t sure if she wanted a psychic talent or not. She really didn’t need another reason for people to mark her as different. On the other hand, if she had some ability that could help her find and free the Tigren, she’d be grateful for it no matter the cost to herself.
Several moments passed, the only sound in the room the soft breathing of the occupants. Just when Glory was beginning to think there was nothing for Honey to find, the other woman opened her eyes and smiled. “You’re a Dream Walker.”
“Dream Walker,” Glory said slowly, as though tasting the words. “That isn’t a term familiar to me.”
“A few months ago it wouldn’t have been familiar to me, either,” Honey admitted wryly as she released Glory, then pulled her chair back behind the desk and sat down again. “I started doing research on different psychic abilities to help me better understand what I sense now that I’m called on to use this talent so often. The information I got on Dream Walkers, what little there was of it, comes from the Tisla of Sheara 5. There are several different types of Dream Walkers with a variety of different abilities, many of which overlap. The strongest ability described was when a Dream Walker enters a meditative state and pulls others who are dreaming into a dreamlike environment that the Dream Walker creates within his or her own mind.”
“It must be from within a meditative state?” Glory asked.
“That’s what it said, yes,” Honey said. “Unfortunately, when I contacted the Tisla directly in an attempt to get more information, they refused to respond. I’ve just told you the full extent of what I learned.”
“The Tisla have always been a secretive people,” Trey said. “I’m surprised you found as much as you did.”
“Which type of Dream Walker do you think Glory is?” Lariah asked.
“She’s definitely the most powerful type,” Honey said. “But it will take practice, and you have to be very careful while using it, Glory.”
“Careful?” Glory asked. “Why?”
“The use of any psychic ability requires energy,” Honey explained. “Just like physical energy, you can only use so much psychic energy before it takes a toll on you. Go beyond your own limits, and you risk your health, or even your life.”
“I remember the first time Lariah helped Doc in his animal clinic,” Val said. “She was so exhausted afterward she couldn’t even stay awake.”
“The same happened when Riata healed the Lobos after their car exploded,” Trey said. “She very nearly killed herself in the process.”
“Exactly,” Honey said. “You can build your strength up fairly quickly with practice, but you need to be careful not to push yourself too hard, too soon.”
“I’ll remember that,” Glory said. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Honey.”
“Yes, Honey, thank you for taking time to help us,” Lariah said. “We know how busy you are.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Honey said, getting up to see them out. “If you have any more questions, Glory, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
Chapter Six
Even though she expected it, Glory still felt some surprise when she found herself standing in front of River House moments after leaving the clinic. “That speed-traveling thing is a bit unnerving, but handy.”
“Very much so,” Val said, dropping his hand from her shoulder and stepping closer to Lariah and Trey.
“I thank all of you for your time and thoughtfulness this day,” she said, bowing formally with her palms pressed together, the mosaic tucked under her arm. Her expression was composed, as was her voice, but Lariah sensed her sincerity. She also sensed that Glory had something on her mind.
“Glory, would you mind terribly if I took a few moments to rest on your porch?” she asked.
“Of course not,” Glory replied.
“I’ll fly home in a little while,” Lariah said to Trey and Val.
“Stay low, little love,” Trey reminded. Lariah nodded, accepted kisses from each of them, and followed Glory onto the porch after they vanished.
“There’s a pitcher of iced juice in the chiller, if you’d like a drink,” Glory offered.
“That’d be very nice,” Lariah replied, taking the same chair she’d used earlier. Glory soon returned with two glasses of juice and handed one to Lariah before taking another chair.
“I would thank you for the food and drink in the kitchen,” Glory said after sipping her juice. “Especially for the prepared meals that need only be heated. I don’t cook at all myself.”
“Suly is the best,” Lariah said, smiling. “She doesn’t have time to cook meals for all of the people who come and go on the ranch these days, but she insists on it for our important guests.”
“I’ll remember to thank her for her thoughtfulness when next I see her,” Glory promised. She cleared her throat. “Lariah, I must be honest with you about something.”
Lariah tilted her head, setting her glass on the small table between them. “You’ve been dishonest with me?” she asked doubtfully. Her instincts told her Glory was unfailingly honest.
“Not exactly,” Glory replied. “I haven’t lied to you, nor would I. But there are things I should have told you, but haven’t.”
“All right, Glory,” Lariah said. “But, before you do, I want you to know that my feelings tell me you are, at heart, a good person. I doubt there’s much you could tell me that would change my mind about that.”
“I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Lariah,” Glory said, her lips curving in the beginnings of a smile. “I
mean that as a compliment, of course.”
Lariah laughed, the soft husky sound drawing an even wider smile from Glory. “Then that’s how I’ll take it.”
Glory’s smile faded and she turned her gaze toward the grassy area in front of the house before she began speaking in a strangely flat voice. “Shortly after I sent the missive to Jasan requesting a meeting with the Princes, I was banished from Ramouri and stripped of my rank.”
Lariah thought about that for a long moment before settling on a response. “Would you like to tell me why?”
“I am outcast in my family,” Glory said. “It’s always been so. Outcast or not, it was necessary for me to inform my father, King Bashir, of my intention to leave Ramouri, which I did in writing the day before I was scheduled to depart. The following morning he summoned me to the palace to inform me that he’d made a decision about my future.” Glory picked up her glass and took a drink, buying time for herself to regain the calm that the memory of that day had stolen. She set the glass down carefully, then continued her story without meeting Lariah’s eyes.
“King Bashir offered two options. The first was banishment from Ramouri, the second so ghastly that I suspected then, as now, that it was deliberately so. King Bashir knew I’d choose banishment over the alternative, and I did.”
Lariah had a strong urge to hug Glory, to offer her comfort from the pain she tried so hard to hide. But she remained in her seat, knowing that Glory wouldn’t appreciate overt emotion or sympathy at the moment. “What does it mean that you were stripped of rank? Are you no longer Princess?”
“My place in the royal family is my birthright,” Glory said with a hint of steel resolve that pleased Lariah. “Like the blood in my veins, it is my own and can never be taken from me. Without due cause, King Bashir stripped me of my warrior rank, which I had fairly earned over long years of hard work and combat service. He also declared that the protections inherent in my position as a female member of the royal family no longer applied to me.”
“I’m sorry, Glory,” Lariah said. “That must have been painful and difficult for you.”
“And dangerous,” Glory said with a sharp snap of her teeth, her bronze eyes flashing. “Word of King Bashir’s decree got out surprisingly fast. So fast, in fact, that by the time I left the palace minutes later, it was already surrounded by men hoping to claim me. Free Claiming a Princess would have been a huge boon to any male since what is mine would become the claimant’s. My royal blood cannot be taken from me, as I said, but I would be forced to share it with any man who successfully claimed me.”
“I don’t understand,” Lariah said. “Do you mean that your own father put you in a position that would allow any man to claim you, whether you agree or not?”
“According to Ramouri custom, yes,” Glory replied. “All a man need do is place his right hand upon the left shoulder of a woman who is both unattached, and no longer under the protection of her family, and say the ritual words. According to both law and custom, the woman may run, but she may not defend herself once caught, or refuse the man’s claim.” Glory shrugged one shoulder, her eyes narrowed in anger at the memory. “It’s safe to say that I was not inclined to bow to the customs of a world from which I’d just been banished. As a result, several men got more than they bargained for when they tried to place a hand upon me before I managed to escape Ramouri. What King Bashir did was dangerous, though not to me.”
“Once again I have to say that I’ve no desire to insult your people, or your culture,” Lariah said carefully. “So I’ll just tell you that I’m glad you came here, and that you are welcome to remain on Jasan for as long as you want. No strings attached.”
“Strings?”
“Conditions,” Lariah said. “Whether the Tigren are found or not.”
Glory took another sip of her juice to help wash away the sudden lump in her throat. “You are very kind, and incredibly generous, Lariah,” she said when she was able to speak again. “I’m glad that I told you. It was wearing on me that I hadn’t.”
“I’m glad you feel better for telling me, Glory,” Lariah said. “But we all have things that we don’t share with everyone. It doesn’t make us dishonest.” Lariah tilted her head and grinned. “My daughters are calling to me.”
“You can hear them?” Glory asked in surprise.
“No, but I can feel them,” Lariah said. “I’ve promised to spend tomorrow with them and their brothers since it’s our last day before leaving, and they want an early start.” Lariah trailed off as the sound of an approaching ground car reached them. “Are you expecting company?”
“No,” Glory replied, rising to stand at the top of the steps. Lariah joined her and they both watched the car appear over the rise. “Anyone you know?”
“I can’t see inside,” Lariah said. “That’s one of the garrison ground cars though. They’re made available for visitors to use while they’re here since the ranch is so big. It’s no one who lives on the ranch, I can tell you that much.”
“I know no one on Jasan aside from those I’ve met since arriving,” Glory said. As she watched the ground car stop near the house, an unpleasant sensation began at the back of her neck and traveled down her spine. An instinctive warning of impending danger that she always trusted. She moved to stand slightly in front of Lariah, one hand on the hilt of her sword, another on one of her throwing knives.
Chapter Seven
Rollo Shorif sat stiffly in the back of the ground car, his pride severely bruised by the subterfuge he’d been forced to engage in just to be allowed onto the Dracons’ Ranch. He had no idea who the Dracons were, or what a ranch was, nor did he care. That’s where Princess Gloriani was, and as she belonged to him, he meant to retrieve her. He’d planned, schemed, and maneuvered for too long, and spent far too much money, to allow a mere female to ruin everything at the very moment of his success.
That the female had never met him and had no knowledge of him, or his plans, was irrelevant. He didn’t know much about her, either, aside from what everyone knew, nor did he care to. All that mattered to him was the royal blood running in her veins, and his possession of it.
He, Rollo Shorif, one generation removed from a long line of dirt farmers, would be a member of the royal family, as would his children, and his children’s children, throughout time. Third Princess Gloriani was the means by which he would achieve his goal, and may the Great Gods help anyone who got in his way because he most certainly would not.
It had taken every ounce of self-restraint he possessed to hold his tongue when King Bashir had coolly informed him that Gloriani had been given a choice in the matter of her own fate. It was ridiculous. Outrageous. She was female and therefore subject to the dictates of men, princess or no. It was unfortunate that the King of Ramouri wasn’t strong enough to keep the females of his household in line, but he, Rollo Shorif, was more than up to the task. The wayward woman would wed him this very day. The return journey to Ramouri would give him plenty of time to give her a taste of her future should she dare to defy her lord and master in any way ever again.
She’d have to be stripped of her weapons first, of course, but that’s what the tranquilizer darts were for. Since their dart guns had been confiscated his men would have to get within arms’ reach of the princess, but he had no concerns on that score. Two trained men should have no difficulty handling one female, regardless of how skilled she was rumored to be. Once she was disarmed, she’d be prohibited from ever touching a weapon again. If she defied him, well, she didn’t need hands to bear his children.
He glanced through the window as the car turned from one primitive gravel track to another, shuddering at the alien view. The sooner he left this horrible planet, the better. He turned toward the two bodyguards he’d been permitted to bring with him across the ranch border. He had no idea why there was so much security around this miserable stretch of land, nor had he asked. The demand that he venture forth with only two unarmed guards had been an insult so great that h
e’d been unable to form rational words, forcing him to remain silent, or risk being turned away altogether. That both of his guards had been reduced to hiding bladed weapons, and tranq darts, about their persons as though they were filthy criminals in order to protect him was infuriating. He was among the wealthiest men of Ramouri, and therefore due a much higher level of respect than these uncivilized heathens seemed capable of understanding.
The ground car slowed, then came to a stop. “This is River House, where Princess Gloriani is staying,” the driver announced.
Rollo gestured to his lead guard and right hand man, Egis, who opened the door and slid out of the car. He waited for the second guard, a huge boulder of a man named Boke, to exit before climbing out behind them, smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt as he glanced around with a grimace of distaste.
“What are you doing here?” a female voice demanded. Rollo turned to see Princess Gloriani and a small red haired woman walking down the porch steps of a wooden hut-like structure. He barely glanced at the red haired woman who, judging by her casual clothing, was either a servant or a peasant. He focused his attention on Gloriani, recognizing her only because of her clothing since he’d never seen her face. She was the only female warrior whose uniform bore gold buckles and fastenings, a mark of her royal status.
“You will soon learn not to speak to me in such a manner,” he snapped as he walked straight toward her, his guards flanking him on either side. “I’m extremely displeased at being forced to travel so far to fetch you. It will go better for you if you get into the ground car immediately and give me no further trouble.” His eyes widened when Gloriani drew her sword and stepped onto the grass, moving so that her body blocked the smaller woman who’d followed her off the porch.
“Come no closer,” she growled. Rollo stopped walking. One of the few things he knew about the woman was that she was extremely dangerous with a blade in her hands. Another mistake her father would answer for were he not King. Rollo’s face flushed with embarrassment at being threatened by a woman, and anger that it had been done in front of witnesses. She would spend days screaming her apologies for that insult.
The Tigrens' Glory (Soul-Linked Saga) (Volume 9) Page 6