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."I am to answer questions.If you have any."Her tone was disinterested.Clearly it was a duty she did not relish.Ben exchanged a glance with Han and shrugged."Sure.Um, what sorts of competitions are you having?""Many.Footraces, riding-lizard races, rancor races, speeder bike races for those who have them, shooting competitions with pistol and rifle, accuracy with spear, wrestling, boating, swimming, riddling—""Riddles?" Ben couldn't keep surprise and even a little scorn out of his voice."You have a competition for telling riddles?"Firen nodded."Of course."Ben held out his two hands about a third of a meter apart."What's this big, weighs forty kilos, and eats people?"Dyon, leaning against the cargo speeder and watching the preparations in the fields, shook his head without turning."That's not how it's done.Among the Dathomiri, and among most people with an oral history tradition, riddles take a very different form.Yours would go something like, 'I am less than the length of a man's arm.Yet my weight would cause a grown man to stagger should he carry me a full day.And when that day is done, it is a grown man I will have for my meal.'""That's a lot more involved than the way I asked it."Firen nodded."Yet it is more dignified.Less like a child's game when it is phrased as Dyon did." She looked restless, uncomfortable.Finally, she added, "What is so long, weighs forty kilograms, and eats people?"Ben gave her a look that was all innocence."An Ewok in a lunch box."Han snickered.Dyon turned to give Ben an exasperated look."You see, that's not funny because there's no local context.There are no Ewoks on Dathomir, and no lunch boxes except at the spaceport.""It could be adapted." Firen frowned, considering."Perhaps a kolef lizard in a wineskin.""Loosen up, Dyon." Han stretched, his joints popping."It was funny."Dyon shook his head."You won't win any of the competitions with that attitude."Han looked startled."Win? We're not competing!""In fact, you are," Firen said."You must compete—the adults among you, anyway—if you are to hold the respect of the clan members."A slow grin spread across Han's face."Well, now, that's a different story!"Firen nodded."First, of course, you must declare which of the divisions you will compete in.""Men and women, I assume." Leia, adjusting the top layer of her Jedi robes, sounded only so interested, but Ben wasn't fooled."No." Firen shook her head."Women and men compete against each other.The divisions are those with the Arts and those without the Arts.""Force-users and non-users?" Ben looked out over the field again.Sure enough, where competitors were gathering, every group had both men and women but seemed to be dominated by one gender or the other rather than having an even mix.He guessed that the groups with more women were the Force-users, and those with more men the non-users."As you would say it, yes.It must be this way, for in competitions between those with the Arts and those without, those with the Arts almost always win." Firen gestured, not toward the fields, but toward a bare patch of lakeside beach where wood for a large fire was being placed."There is where the riddling and other competitions will take place.Those are among the few where those with the Arts and those without can compete with each other.""It seems very well thought out." Luke, sitting cross-legged on the speeder hood, was doing some final adjustments on the hilt of his lightsaber."I suppose there would especially be a lot of talk if I don't compete.""Oh, yes." Firen sounded sure."All will wonder if you have grown feeble, or if you merely scorn our traditions.""Guess I'd better compete, then, so they'll know neither is true." Luke gave his brother-in-law a look."You, too, Han.""But I am feeble."Leia snorted."Right.You mean lazy."Han looked at Firen, an appeal for help."Tell me that there's a wine-tasting competition.""No.""Solving navigation problems?""No.""Bragging?"Firen sighed.She turned away and headed back toward the Raining Leaves encampment.When the call went up for the first competition of the morning, the short footrace for those with the Arts, Luke went out to join the competitors, and most of the offworlders went out to cheer him on.Ben did not.He stayed in the shadow of the cargo speeder and began dealing with items he had traded for or borrowed in the earliest hour as the camp was rousing.A green Broken Columns cloak, suitable in these temperate foothill elevations, went over his black garments, and a brown hood hid his too-visible reddish hair.He slid the clip for his lightsaber to the back of his belt and put a large sheath knife, borrowed from Carrack, where the other weapon normally hung.Now anyone looking at him would still, in moments, be able to discern that he did not belong to the Raining Leaves or Broken Columns, but he was not instantly obvious as an offworlder or Jedi.As he was putting on his impromptu disguise, he sneaked the occasional look at the athletic field, specifically at the crowd around the competitors.Olianne was there, and, as Ben and his father had guessed she might, she was keeping a close eye on the offworlders.Vestara was near Olianne, but not always; she drifted along the edges of the crowd.Ben got up and moved as nonchalantly as he could toward the race's audience.As he walked, a woman of the Raining Leaves bellowed the rules.All competitors were to race the length of the field, round a marker post, keeping it to their left side, and return to the starting line.Afterward, a longer race would be run, eight laps.Then the two races would be repeated by those with no Arts.As the recitation of rules came to an end, Ben found himself at the back of a press of onlookers.Three meters ahead of him, at the front of the crowd, was Vestara.Olianne stood a dozen meters to the right of Vestara, separated from her by onlookers.A blaster fired into the sky was the signal for the race's start.Ben saw his father and three others, two Dathomiri women and one man, draw out to an early lead.Luke did not move to the front; the Raining Leaves trainer of scouts, Halliava Vurse, was ahead of him.Ben doubted she'd remain there; Luke, ever strategic, was doubtless pacing himself.Vestara withdrew a couple of steps into the crowd, which put her directly in front of Ben.Then she turned to look at him.She showed no surprise at finding him there."Good morning.""If you say so.""You don't think it is?"He frowned."Whether it's good or not isn't relevant.""It's always relevant.Will your morning be worse if your father loses?""He won't lose [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]