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71 NIRA

The invitation arrived in Nira's private quarters, a mirror-engraved placard asking her to join Prime Designate Jora'h for a spectacular afternoon of Ildiran jousting. The sleek-skinned courier, though obviously from one of the upper-class kiths, was far less impressive and magnetic than Jora'h himself.

The courier watched as Nira read the etched letters again, easily comprehending the writing after she had absorbed that skill through the worldforest database. "I have been instructed to wait for your reply. Prime Designate Jora'h is most anxious to have you join him."

The event sounded fascinating, and Nira was pleased to have an opportunity to spend time with the handsome Prime Designate. "Let me consult with Ambassador Otema." The courier followed her down the hall to Otema's chambers, where the old woman sat surrounded by her potted treelings.

Otema had spread out documents given to her by Rememberer Vao'sh. She read lines and stanzas aloud, reciting lyrical tales out of Ildiran myth and legend from the Saga. The ancient priest looked up at Nira, her expression distant and dreamy. "These epic arcs are filled with unusual twists and grand stories. Everything is completely new to the worldtrees." Her eyes sparkling, Otema touched the stacks of records in front of her. "It would take decades for a single person to skim all this material, much less read it aloud."

"That is why I'm here to assist you, Ambassador." Nira had already found the tales of Ildiran heroism, bravery, and tragedy as enthralling as the Malory epic of King Arthur. "However, the two of us cannot possibly accomplish the entire task. Not in your lifetime, not in mine."

"I know, I know." The old woman frowned with dismay, crinkling the tattoos that marked her face.

The courier waited outside Otema's transparent door, his face placid but still exhibiting noticeable impatience. Nira saw a similar engraved invitation plaque beside Otema, where it had been set aside, as if dismissed. Her heart sank.

"Ambassador, I see that you've received an invitation as well." She held up her own, and the light played off its reflective surface. "Will we be attending the Ildiran jousting, as Prime Designate Jora'h has requested?"

"Oh, I don't think so, Nira. I have too much work to do, too many documents to read. My mind is swelled with the sheer volume of information that remains to be shared with the worldtrees." She suddenly noticed the crestfallen expression on her assistant's face, and smiled. "You, of course, may feel free to go. Please represent Theroc in my stead." Seeing Nira's look of joy, Otema said in a gruff voice, "Besides, I am certain the Prime Designate prefers your company to mine. He was merely asking me as a formality."

"That's not true, Ambassador!" Nira said, but she knew not to protest too much.

***

Inside the domed jousting pavilion, Nira sat close to Jora'h in his private spectator lounge. The Prime Designate leaned over to her, his topaz eyes flashing. When he smiled at her, Nira wanted to melt.

"I am saddened that your companion Otema could not join us," he said.

Nira couldn't stop herself from laughing. "No, you're not."

Jora'h was taken aback; then he chuckled as well. "Perhaps my feelings are too obvious. You are correct. I would have played a fine host to the ambassador, but I would rather spend the afternoon with you."

"With me...and five thousand Ildirans?" Nira gestured to the crowds lining the brightly lit arena. The spectators sat in designated sections, different kiths clustered together so that as Nira swept her gaze across the cheering people, she saw a spectrum of different facial features and body types.

"Ah, but you are the only person I see, Nira." Fanfare sounded, and the crowds shouted. "The spectacle is about to begin." Jora'h brushed his fingers across her wrist, then chastely folded his hands in his lap.

Ildiran jousting was an important ritualistic sport performed inside covered amphitheaters.