among the women who had no powerful arts.”
Luke offered her a sympathetic expression. He’d had reports of such events cross his desk in the years when there was a Jedi school here. “You’ve had reason to suffer from raids like this?”
“Worse. The Raining Leaves remained traditional, old-fashioned, through these times. But ten years ago, there was an uprising by our men. Not all of them, but many. They struck with cunning and ferocity, cutting down the most experienced Witches during the deepest hour of night. No Witch still in our caves survived that night. My mother, my aunts, my oldest sister … Some of us were away from the caves, out hunting or on distant errands. Returning, we got wind of the uprising. We used our arts and attacked, cutting down the men. Not one over the age of ten years survived. My father fell, too, even though he was blameless. In a week, we had lost two-thirds of our people and all of our most experienced Witches.”
Olianne’s voice, mocking and harsh, floated forward from the rear of the speeder. “So what is it like to be a hero, Skywalker? Shall we name our boy-children after you, in your honor?”
Luke turned to regard her again. “I’m sorry for your losses. But I don’t teach that sort of violence. The Force doesn’t encourage it. It was a desire for vengeance, a dark emotion, that prompted both your slaughters … not me.”
“He is right, Olianne.” Kaminne stared at her sister until Olianne dropped her gaze, and Luke could finally see some of the quiet strength of character that Kaminne had to possess to be chief of this clan.
Kaminne turned forward again. “That was the start of the hard years. Relearning years. There were man-tribes out there that were actually larger than the Raining Leaves, and stronger. But there was alsoone man-tribe that did not attack, that was willing to trade, and eventually more than trade. The Broken Columns.” Kaminne’s expression softened. “Over the years, we have come to a new custom. Each year the two clans convene north of Redgill Lake. We camp in each other’s company. We stay a month. Marriages are made, marriages that last a year. The next year, when the two clans convene, we give the boy-children over a certain age to their fathers and introduce the girls to them, so that they might know their kin.”
“And this is where you are going now.” Luke thought it over. “No wonder you didn’t want outsiders along.”
“It is more than that. This year, we convene to negotiate another kind of marriage—a marriage of clans. Raining Leaves and Broken Columns becoming one. If we can come to terms, I will marry Tasander Dest, their chief, and it will be a marriage of more than just a year.”
“Tasander Dest.” Luke frowned. “Surely that’s not a Dathomiri name.”
“Hapan. The Hapans have had a compound on Dathomir for many years. Their old Queen Mother was Dathomiri, and their current one is half Dathomiri. Tasander was brought here as a boy by his father and chose to stay when his father left.”
Leia, sitting on Luke’s far side, leaned in. “Do you have any children? By Dest or another Broken Column?”
Kaminne shook her head. “For years I could not. It is a problem that runs in my family, except in my mother. Olianne, too, is childless. But when we began talks of this union with the Broken Columns, I went to the doctor at the spaceport. She said it was a reversible condition and gave me medicines.”
“I was going to recommend that, but you’re ahead of me.”
Kaminne shook her head. “We are not stupid. Ours is a hard life, but it is one we choose, not one we are just too foolish to avoid. When our spells are insufficient, we find other ways. Some of our warriors have blasters now and know how to use them. We have comlinks and beacons. Changes, all changes brought on since you first came here.”
Leia smiled at her. “I know about changes. Some are bad, some are good, and when you look back on your
Luke offered her a sympathetic expression. He’d had reports of such events cross his desk in the years when there was a Jedi school here. “You’ve had reason to suffer from raids like this?”
“Worse. The Raining Leaves remained traditional, old-fashioned, through these times. But ten years ago, there was an uprising by our men. Not all of them, but many. They struck with cunning and ferocity, cutting down the most experienced Witches during the deepest hour of night. No Witch still in our caves survived that night. My mother, my aunts, my oldest sister … Some of us were away from the caves, out hunting or on distant errands. Returning, we got wind of the uprising. We used our arts and attacked, cutting down the men. Not one over the age of ten years survived. My father fell, too, even though he was blameless. In a week, we had lost two-thirds of our people and all of our most experienced Witches.”
Olianne’s voice, mocking and harsh, floated forward from the rear of the speeder. “So what is it like to be a hero, Skywalker? Shall we name our boy-children after you, in your honor?”
Luke turned to regard her again. “I’m sorry for your losses. But I don’t teach that sort of violence. The Force doesn’t encourage it. It was a desire for vengeance, a dark emotion, that prompted both your slaughters … not me.”
“He is right, Olianne.” Kaminne stared at her sister until Olianne dropped her gaze, and Luke could finally see some of the quiet strength of character that Kaminne had to possess to be chief of this clan.
Kaminne turned forward again. “That was the start of the hard years. Relearning years. There were man-tribes out there that were actually larger than the Raining Leaves, and stronger. But there was alsoone man-tribe that did not attack, that was willing to trade, and eventually more than trade. The Broken Columns.” Kaminne’s expression softened. “Over the years, we have come to a new custom. Each year the two clans convene north of Redgill Lake. We camp in each other’s company. We stay a month. Marriages are made, marriages that last a year. The next year, when the two clans convene, we give the boy-children over a certain age to their fathers and introduce the girls to them, so that they might know their kin.”
“And this is where you are going now.” Luke thought it over. “No wonder you didn’t want outsiders along.”
“It is more than that. This year, we convene to negotiate another kind of marriage—a marriage of clans. Raining Leaves and Broken Columns becoming one. If we can come to terms, I will marry Tasander Dest, their chief, and it will be a marriage of more than just a year.”
“Tasander Dest.” Luke frowned. “Surely that’s not a Dathomiri name.”
“Hapan. The Hapans have had a compound on Dathomir for many years. Their old Queen Mother was Dathomiri, and their current one is half Dathomiri. Tasander was brought here as a boy by his father and chose to stay when his father left.”
Leia, sitting on Luke’s far side, leaned in. “Do you have any children? By Dest or another Broken Column?”
Kaminne shook her head. “For years I could not. It is a problem that runs in my family, except in my mother. Olianne, too, is childless. But when we began talks of this union with the Broken Columns, I went to the doctor at the spaceport. She said it was a reversible condition and gave me medicines.”
“I was going to recommend that, but you’re ahead of me.”
Kaminne shook her head. “We are not stupid. Ours is a hard life, but it is one we choose, not one we are just too foolish to avoid. When our spells are insufficient, we find other ways. Some of our warriors have blasters now and know how to use them. We have comlinks and beacons. Changes, all changes brought on since you first came here.”
Leia smiled at her. “I know about changes. Some are bad, some are good, and when you look back on your
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