But before she could turn her band back to The Pillars, the false Tuskens had arrived. A’Yark’s eye was good enough to tell imposters even at a distance through darkness; the worst of her people didn’t comport themselves like the costumed bumblers. Then Ben had arrived, galloping past on his eopie. A’Yark had instantly resolved to stay, ordering the others to hollow out a hiding place near the pretenders’ parked speeder bikes.
Alone, atop the western ridge, she’d seen an initially weaponless Ben fight the costumed settlers. The fight had confirmed what she’d suspected.
“You are Ben,” she said to him now.
“Yes,” Ben said. He stood halfway down the rise, looking down at her and her companions, all standing guard over the motionless youth.
A’Yark strained to remember the words K’Sheek had spoken in their exchanges, so long ago. But they came to her now, when needed. “You are … a great worrier.”
Ben chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Great warrior,” A’Yark repeated, annoyed.
“Wars do not—” he began, still grinning in the moonlight. Seeing that his expression offended her, he changed it. “Never mind.”
Ben walked cautiously down into the depression. He looked different now. Dark robe removed, he wore a light tunic giving him more range of movement—and yet he did not shiver in the wind. He gestured to the prisoner, collapsed and guarded at the bottom of the dugout. “This boy, Jabe, is the son of my friend. You met her.”
“Ann-uh-leen,” A’Yark pronounced, without thinking.
“Yes, you did hear me say it,” he replied. For some reason, the human’s words were easier for A’Yark to understand, and he understood her. Was it his magic, somehow?
“Release Jabe,” he said, slowly. “So I can take him to her.”
“No,” A’Yark said.
Ben raised his hand and waved it before A’Yark. “You will release him.”
“No,” A’Yark said.
Ben nodded. “All right.” He put his hand down. A’Yark watched warily as he began to pace, keeping a generous distance between himself and A’Yark’s party.
“All right. You should release him, then,” Ben said. “It is right. You remember—I brought you your son. The day of the massacre.”
“My son was dead,” A’Yark said, words dripping with bile. With that, she turned and stepped over Jabe’s body. Turning back so Ben could see, she suspended her gaderffii above Jabe’s head, ready to plunge the heavy end downward into his skull. “You takes Annileen a dead son,” she announced. “It is right.”
Her companions fanned out, gaderffii ready. Ben reached for the fold of his tunic. In the dark, A’Yark couldn’t see where he carried the weapon, but she was sure it was there. “I hoped we could bargain,” he said, calmly. “I guess you’re not a transactional people.”
A’Yark stood silent, not understanding.
Somehow sensing her confusion, Ben spoke. “Trade. Tuskens don’t trade.”
“No. Tuskens take!” A’Yark shouted, raising her gaderffii.
At the sound of her voice, two young warriors charged Ben from either side. Ben swept his hands upward. The fighters went aloft, carried by an unseen windstorm. They landed to either side of the pit—while one of the gaderffii pinwheeled through the air right over A’Yark’s head. The other weapon buried itself into the ground to her left.
Ben hadn’t even looked at the attackers.
“Wait,” she told the others in their language. Theirs was a mad attack, but it told her again how powerful he was. Yet Ben had chosen not to kill her companions. Was it intentional?
Ben looked over his shoulder. “Any forces the Ulbrecks reach will secure the house first, before searching here. There’s still time for us all to get what we want, A’Yark. I want the boy.”
“No,” A’Yark said, bringing her weapon down again to a menacing position over Jabe’s body. She poked at the teenager’s clothing with the blunt end of the gaderffii. “It is forbidden for Tusken to unmask. But for a settler to wear the mask of a Tusken—”
“—it is indescribably worse,” Ben said. “That’s your belief, isn’t it?”
“It is believed.” A’Yark gripped the gaderffii. “Jabe dies.”
“Then we are at an impasse,” Ben said, pulling out the metal weapon that A’Yark had seen before. He activated it, and a spear of blue energy lit the gully. Sharad Hett had named it once for her. A lightsaber.
Ben walked toward the pit. “I won’t let you kill Jabe, no matter what he’s done.”
“We are born to die,” A’Yark said.
“Maybe you are,” Ben said. “But it is possible to be ready to die—and still prefer to live. And I think you do.”
Her gemstone eyepiece glinted purple in the light. “You are wrong!”
“I think not,” Ben said, staring at her. “I’ve heard the settlers talk about you, A’Yark—and seen your actions. You don’t strike just for menace. You have goals.” He lowered the lightsaber slightly. “Like at the oasis store. You came for Annileen. Why?”
A’Yark stood motionless, astounded. How could a human know anything that motivated a Tusken?
Ben paused for a moment. “Ah,” he said. “I see. You thought she was like me. And like Sharad Hett,” he said. “If you knew Sharad, you must have known that he was not like the other settlers. He carried a weapon, like this.” Ben moved the shining lightsaber to and fro, slicing the air before A’Yark and her captive. “And he could do other things.”
“Sharad … wizard,” A’Yark said.
“Wiz—” Ben stopped moving the lightsaber. “Yes. He would have seemed.”
“You are his kind,” A’Yark said, mesmerized. “You knew him.”
“I am of his kind, yes. And I knew him.” Ben’s eyes narrowed in the light as he searched carefully for words. “Sharad Hett … left my people. Many years ago. He brought his skills to you—became a Tusken.” He looked away, gravely. “He was not supposed to do this. But you took him in.”
“Yes.”
Struck with a notion, Ben looked down at A’Yark, “You weren’t his wife, were you?”
A’Yark shook her head. “No. K’Sheek lived as my sister, when she lived.”
“Ah. I didn’t know her name.”
The recovered attackers from earlier gave A’Yark long and imploring looks. Of course, they were wondering. It was madness, conversing with so powerful a human—and on settler lands, too! But A’Yark realized this was the moment she’d been working toward since the massacre in the gorge. “Ben will join us,” she said, abruptly.
“I—” Ben seemed startled. “Me, join you?”
“Yes. As Sharad did.” A’Yark kicked at Jabe’s shoulder. “To save Jabe. That would be … what you call a trade. A Tusken trade.”
Ben mused for a moment, as if contemplating a possibility he’d never even considered.
“The Sand People in The Pillars are few,” A’Yark said. “Ben joins. Leads war parties.”
Ben gestured toward her. “But your people have a war leader, A’Yark. A formidable one—in you.”
A’Yark sneered. Whether he intended to flatter her made no difference. Whatever A’Yark was, Ben was different. Something greater. “You would attract others,” she said. “Some lives who remembers Sharad. They would follow. Sand People will thrive.”
Never in A’Yark’s memory had such an offer been made to an outlander. Even Sharad was made to endure trials. And yet this human actually seemed amused by the invitation. “Well,” Ben said, under his breath, “that would certainly be one way for me to stay out of sight.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, seriousness returning to his face.
A’Yark paused, suddenly apprehensive. Not about the impending return of sentries, but rather, wondering whether to speak the rest. She’d told herself many times she was not as superstitious as the others. But some things handed down had meaning, and having seen Sharad’s feats, she was inclined to
believe this thing. “They says a warrior will come from the sky to lead us. He will grow mighty. Generations unborn will walk in fear.”
For a moment, Ben seemed puzzled. A’Yark wondered if she had spoken the words properly. “This—was a prophecy?” he asked. “A dream someone had?”
“Those are the same thing.”
“And you desire this end?”
“Tuskens want. Yes.” It was a foolish question for Ben to ask, A’Yark thought. Had he not heard of the destruction wrought years earlier on the Tusken camp, where all present died, regardless of age? Sand People could not live where such threats existed unopposed. If Sharad had not been the arrival of legend, then perhaps Ben was instead.
Yet for reasons that eluded A’Yark, Ben seemed troubled by the prospect of gaining immense power. He bowed slightly.
“I cannot join you,” he said. “No offense intended. I, er … recognize what I’m giving up. But it can’t happen.”
“Then boy dies. And we dies, killing him. And clan ends.” She lifted the gaderffii again over Jabe’s head. “It is right.”
Ben looked down, seemingly disappointed. Readying his lightsaber, he started to close the distance with the Tuskens.
Then he stopped. He looked over at the lone speeder bike. “You saw who was with the boy.”
A’Yark nodded. “The settler leader. The Smiling One.”
“The Smiling—” Ben’s face lit with recognition. “Orrin Gault. You mean Orrin Gault!”
“Or-rin-gaalt,” A’Yark sounded out. “I will kill Orringault. And all who follows.” She spoke aloud the theory that had been forming since seeing the imposters. “By day, he strikes us. By night, he schemes—so to strike us again by day.”
Ben lowered his weapon. “You mean Orrin has done something like this before?”
“Settlers have avenged attacks that did not fall,” A’Yark said. “I don’t knows what settlers do. But I knows what Tuskens do.”
Quickly, A’Yark named some locations. Ben’s knowledge of the geography of the desert was not the same as hers, and he asked questions in response. She answered them.
At last, he deactivated his lightsaber and returned it to its hiding place. “A’Yark, your people have been wronged. What Orrin has done is forbidden for my people. Taboo. And he has led Jabe into it. If you let me take the boy, I will see that no more harm comes from either of them.”
A’Yark stood fast. “Vengeance must be ours.” She studied Ben. “And you don’t speak for the settlers.”
Ben scratched his hairy chin. “No, you’re right. I don’t. This isn’t even my responsibility, not anymore. But neither can you get satisfaction alone. You don’t have the forces to threaten the oasis, do you?”
A’Yark said nothing.
“I didn’t think so.” Ben nodded to the warriors he’d let live. “If you’ll … defer for a day, I will find a way that you can get justice.”
A’Yark didn’t know what justice meant. K’Sheek and Sharad both had been full of nonsense terms. But she caught Ben’s drift. “I must see this jus-tiss,” she said, hissing the last syllable. “To know.”
Ben nodded. “I think I understand. There may be a way.”
“Speak.”
“That’s what I propose,” Ben concluded, a couple of minutes later. “But it requires bringing the settlers to your—er, doorstep.”
As A’Yark looked back on her junior warriors, doubts quickly filled her mind. “Plan works,” she said. “I would see. But plan risks the clan.”
“I understand, but you need not worry,” Ben said. “I would not endanger them, nor you. I would be there to protect your people—”
“Ootman lies!” A’Yark snapped. “No outlander would care what happens to Tuskens!”
At her feet, Jabe woke up, moaning. Opening his eyes, he saw A’Yark overhead. “Uh-oh,” he said, in a tiny voice.
“Hold still, son,” Ben advised. “We’re at a critical stage.” He looked back at A’Yark. “I told you what I would do. Will you free him?”
A’Yark looked back at her feckless companions. Unaware of what had been discussed, they fidgeted at a sound from faraway: landspeeders, heading toward the ranch from the northeast. There wasn’t much time to make a decision, and A’Yark was inclined to reject Ben’s proposal. It was impossible to think he could succeed. No one could.
She clutched the gaderffii. “I say—”
Another sound came from the south, interrupting her. Movement! The warriors stumbled backward, afraid. “The settlers,” one called to A’Yark. “We are surrounded!”
“It’s all right,” Ben said, walking toward the southern dune. “Just a second.”
“Don’t leave me!” Jabe screamed.
Ben was gone for just over three seconds when an eopie trotted over the southern crest. Ben followed, carrying a bundle in his arms. “I forgot I parked near here,” he called.
The eopie wandered into the middle of the mystified Tuskens. At A’Yark’s feet, it began nuzzling at Jabe’s cheek with its snout. A’Yark looked back at the bundle Ben was carrying. It was moving. “What is that?”
A bleat came from the shadowy mass, and Ben set it upon the ground. Dark cloth opened. A young eopie, just a few hours old, ambled toward its mother.
“That … is not from here,” A’Yark said. She knew the old man who lived here kept no livestock.
“Hmm? Ah, yes,” Ben said, musing as he watched mother and child together. “When I realized Orrin was targeting this ranch, I had to get here quickly, so I had no choice but to ride. But Rooh had just given birth this morning, and I couldn’t leave the child.”
A’Yark stared at him. “How—”
Ben picked up the cloth. “I carried him. In my cloak.” He shook out the garment and put it on. “He slept pretty well.”
A’Yark looked at the eopie with the two children, one human. She knew how far it was to Ben’s home. He had ridden across the desert—with an infant eopie in his lap?
It occurred to her Ben would do anything to return Annileen’s child to her—just as he had returned A’Deen. And so he might be capable of anything.
Lights swept over the eastern ridge. “They have come,” A’Yark said. She poked Jabe lightly in the shoulder with the point of her weapon. “You must go. I agree to Ben’s trade.”
Ben looked around. He spied the speeder bike. “I need to get to the oasis fast, but—” He looked apprehensively at the eopies. “I can’t ride alongside, and I can’t carry us all.”
A’Yark gestured, and warriors stepped up to lead the eopies away. At least they were capable of that, she thought. The night was still young, and she had much to prepare, as well.
Helping a confused Jabe toward the speeder bike, Ben looked back with apprehension. “You … you won’t eat them, will you?”
“We do what we want,” A’Yark said, offended. The insinuation that they wouldn’t was worse than any assumption about their diet. “But no one acts, but I say.” That much was true, now.
Ben climbed aboard the vehicle in front of Jabe. “I’ll return. And if I fail—the next time you see me, I will do as you ask. I swear.”
“I will makes sure of it,” A’Yark said. With that, the Tuskens and their animal charges vanished over the dune and into the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
IN THE DARKNESS OF THE CLAIM, Annileen staggered against the counter. “What … what did you say?”
“Jabe is dead,” Orrin repeated. He knelt beside the shards of the bottles on the floor at his feet. Down in the darkness, his mind raced. Annileen would have to learn sometime that the Tuskens had taken Jabe, but he’d hoped to put it off until after he settled his financial affairs.
Now he wondered what to say. Could he say Jabba’s toughs had struck at him, killing Jabe instead? That would sell Annileen on the danger Orrin was in, but it might solidify her resolve not to pay the criminals. No, he thought as he picked up the pieces, there might be a way instead to ensure that she did help him.
And it involved the truth.
Starting at a certain point, of course. “The Tuskens killed him,” he said, rising with the shards. “I was bringing him back here from my place when I broke down. Plug-eye got him.”
“The Tuskens?” Annileen grabbed at him. “Where?”
Orrin dumped the glass into the refuse bin. “Out on the desert. You won’t find him. They took him away.”
“Then he might not be dead!” Kallie yelled, tears glinting in her eyes.
Annileen shoved past Orrin, finally escaping from behind the counter. “I’ve got to go,” she said, heading toward the gun racks. She looked back at Kallie. “Get dressed.”
Kallie handed her rifle to her mother and ran back into the residence. “What are you waiting for, Orrin? Activate the Settlers’ Call!”
Orrin stood taller, having formulated his plan. “At first light,” he said. “You know there’s nothing anyone can do until then.” He stepped forward from behind the bar. “But I swear, I’ll call out every vehicle we’ve got until we find him. You need to stay—”
“Not a chance!” Annileen looked back at Orrin. “Trigger the Call, or I will!”
Orrin wiped his hands on a rag from the bar. “No one will come at this hour. You’ll just scare the Tuskens farther into the wastes. Or push Plug-eye to do something desperate. You’re going to have to trust me, Annie. Nobody knows Pluggy like me. I’ve been chasing this guy for years!”
Annileen glowered. “Some expert. Plug-eye’s a female!”
“Huh?”
“I met her again on the range with Ben that day!” she told him, grabbing a satchel.
Orrin stared, puzzled. He started to ask more—but then returned to the immediate problem. He walked toward her, wary of where her rifle was pointing. “I promise you. Wait, and I’ll have the Grand Army of the Oasis out there.”
Annileen shook her head. Nothing, it seemed, was going to keep her from searching. Kallie ran back in wearing warm clothes, and her mother passed her a rifle. Annileen looked back at him in anger. “Why didn’t you tell me this when you came in?”
“I had to make sure you understood first,” Orrin said. “I can’t help you find Jabe tomorrow if I’ve got the Hutt’s goons showing up.” He walked to the gun counter and picked up a rifle of his own, figuring a physical show of support would be good now. “Look, I’ll ride out with you. We can have a quick look.” He turned to face Annileen. “Then we’ve got to come back here. Forget the business about the store. You’ll give me the money to make Jabba go away—”
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