Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 02_ Omen - Christie Golden [41]
Their work was everywhere to be seen in Tahv—in windows, as statuary, as jewelry and trendy shikkars, and even as domes and spires in sheltered areas of the city where their fragility was not in danger—or where Force-users, who could protect them, dwelled.
The poorer inhabitants, all of whom had no facility with the Force and most of whom were Keshiri, lived closest to the wall. The areas grew more luxurious and more attractive the closer one came to the center of Tahv, an area known as the Circle. Here was the seat of government, comprising the Grand Lord, seven High Lords, and thirteen Lords. All were, of course, Sith.
And it was the Circle to which Vestara had been instructed to report. There was an open stretch of land just north of the cluster of buildings, including the glass-domed capitol in the exact center, and Vestara saw several uvak and the placid, broad-backed riding shumshur already there. She landed Tikk gracefully, and a Sith dressed in the distinctive ice-blue color that marked him as an attendant to the Grand Lord stepped forward.
“You are?” he asked. He had light blue eyes and reddish-brown hair, and beneath the blue livery his body was obviously heavy with muscle. Vestara wondered why this strong, attractive human was merely an attendant. But then, there were many who considered simply serving the Grand Lord sufficient an achievement.
“Tyro Vestara Khai,” she replied. “I was summoned.”
He nodded, his face betraying nothing. “Yes. Tyro Vestara. I was told to expect you. Do not keep them waiting. Enter the capitol and speak to the Sabers there; they will take you before the Circle of Lords.”
Vestara followed his directions, moving quickly but not too quickly lest she look too eager. The warmth of the day faded as she stepped into the circular capitol building. It was dark and cool inside, and from somewhere came the sound of splashing water. She paused, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden dimness after the brightness of the day outside, and suddenly realized: I am in the capitol. I am about to go before the Circle of Lords.
It was then that she heard the sounds of boots on the stone floor behind her and she turned.
Three Sabers, two women and one man, regarded her evenly. She had no idea where they had come from, but she was unsurprised to see them. They were Sith Sabers. She shouldn’t have been able to sense them coming.
She bowed politely, and they nodded in acknowledgment. “I am Tyro Vestara Khai,” she said. “I was summoned.”
“Indeed you were,” said the tall, dark-skinned woman. “Saber Shura will take you to the Circle Chambers.”
“Follow me,” the other woman said, and turned. Vestara obeyed, following the woman up several flights of twining stairs, realizing only belatedly that the Council Chambers were held in the glass dome of the building. All her life she had only glimpsed the landmark dome from the outside. Now, she would be permitted to see what was inside.
They reached the pinnacle and stood before a seemingly blank wall. Saber Shura reached out with both her hand and the Force, not needing to touch the wall, and suddenly Vestara could see the outlines of a door that slid open.
One of the great lessons her father had taught her, from an early age, was how to conceal her emotions, if not control them. Gavar assured her that the latter would come with time.
“Soon,” he had said, “if you do not wish to be angry, you will not become so. If you do not wish to be afraid, you will cease to be. Even happiness can interfere. You will learn to use your anger,