Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 04_ Backlash - Aaron Allston [90]
“That’s life with the Jedi.” Ben glanced at the Dathomiri. “Now do the Jedi outnumber the Leaves and the Columns?”
Drola nodded. Halliava considered, then nodded as well.
Ben held the standard up. “I, Ben Skywalker, hereby claim this hilltop, from an altitude of twenty meters up, for the Jedi Order.” He looked at the Dathomiri. “Will that work? Dramatic enough?”
Halliava shrugged. “You must mention your witnesses.”
Drola pointed to the pole he held. “And then plant the standard so it can stand by itself.”
“I hereby make this claim in the presence of Halliava Vurse of the Raining Leaves Clan and Drola—Drola—”
The bearded man scowled. “Kinn.”
“Drola Kinn of the Broken Columns Clan.” Ben looked around for some loose rocks with which to prop up the pole.
“If you are going to fumble with my name, I should at least go first.”
“You’re a man. You go second. Ben, are we done? I want to return to camp.”
Ben gave Halliava an apologetic smile. “No, we have to wait here. Kaminne and Tasander want that, too.” He rested the pole against a vertical rock face as high as his shoulder and began piling loose stones against it to hold it in place.
Drola tried to make his voice sound reasonable. “They did say that.”
“Oh, be quiet. We never should have taught your kind to talk.”
Ben grinned. Halliava’s tone was not biting, not genuinely angry. She was just bantering. As contentious as things had been in the camps during the conclave, he liked the sound of that.
He felt a sudden stab of guilt. Maybe Halliava wasn’t the Nightsister here. He didn’t want his constant scrutiny of her to cause offense or to make others mistrust her if she were actually innocent.
But he still couldn’t tell her the truth, not when she might be able to convey it to distant Nightsisters. Not when he didn’t know.
His task complete, he straightened. “Welcome to Camp Jedi. Now we wait.”
THEY DIDN’T HAVE A LENGTHY WAIT. AN HOUR AFTER THEY FIRST achieved the summit, Ben saw the first clan members straggling out of the forest. Tasander was at their head. As more and more emerged from the trees, Tasander directed some to climb the hill, others to begin moving along the tree line surrounding it. Within a short time, men and women were reaching the summit and setting up bedrolls and, where possible, tents; those below were emerging from the trees with hastily cut poles whose ends they began to sharpen with long slashing blades.
Ben gulped. Suddenly it struck home. They were indeed at war, preparing fortifications to defend themselves. He’d been born during a war and had fought through others as a boy and an adolescent. Now it was war again, however small its scale. He wondered if he was always to be involved in some war or another. Then he thought back over his father’s history and knew the answer.
His father was visible, too, halfway down the hill. Luke sprang from stone to stone, landing, rocking back and forth on each perch, leaping to the next one within reach. Ben knew what he was doing: testing the terrain, giving himself home-field advantage should enemies come against him.
Ben heard Drola and Halliava asking the newcomers if they knew the reason for all the commotion, and finally getting their answer. We’re fortifying against the Nightsisters. Now, if Halliava was one of the Nightsisters, she would find a way to communicate the news to her fellow conspirators. But as Ben watched her from the corner of his eye, she did not immediately dash off on some pretext of an errand. Grim-faced, she met and took her daughter from Olianne, then set about erecting her own camp.
Ben found Dyon sitting on a boulder overlooking the southwest slope, tapping away on his datapad. “What’re you doing?”
“Composing a chronicle of the day so far.” Dyon didn’t look up, and his tone indicated that he was concentrating mostly on his document. “I’ll be sending it to Yliri and updating it as the night progresses.”
“Why?”
“I could die tonight, Ben.