Star Wars_ The Approaching Storm - Alan Dean Foster [83]
Only the Alwari guides were displeased by his presence among them. They did not exactly shun him, because they knew that would displease their employers. But neither did they go out of their way to assist in his instruction, or to become fast friends. The gulf that existed between Alwari and Gwurran was inexplicable to Luminara, as they both sprang from the same ancestors. Physically, they differed significantly only in size and hirsuteness. To someone used to dealing on a daily basis with representatives of different species who differed far more radically in their physical appearance, the continuing enmity displayed by the two guides was hard to understand. Hopefully, traveling together would eventually oblige Kyakhta and Bulgan to view their smallish cousin in a better light.
At present there wasn’t much of the latter, as the sun was beginning to rise over the northern horizon. It was the same horizon they had been riding toward for days; flat and grassy. A pack of shanhs had shadowed them for a night and a day, but sensing no weakness in either suubatars or their riders, had given up and drifted off in search of easier prey.
“Something moving from east to west along the horizon,” Kyakhta called out. Though still waking up, everyone immediately turned in that direction.
Obi-Wan had his electrobinoculars out and was gazing at the indicated spot, trying to resolve the distant movement.
“Borokii?” Anakin inquired hopefully.
Lowering the powerful scanning device, the Jedi replied uncertainly. “I don’t know. Kyakhta and Bulgan will tell us. But I have a feeling not. From what we’ve been told, the overclans are like the Yiwa, like all Alwari, in that they’re herding nomads.” He nodded in the direction of distant movement. “Whoever these are, they seem to be more advanced than that.” He urged his mount forward. “Or at least, they choose to travel with far more in the way of material goods. I don’t see any signs of a domesticated herd. No dorgum, no awiquod—nothing but draft animals. That means that whatever they are, they’re not the Borokii.”
Obi-Wan’s assessment turned out to be correct. The procession that was advancing in their direction was not the sought-after preeminent overclan. Not only did it not include any herd animals such as they had encountered among the Yiwa, but it was also loud to the point of boisterousness. It was Bulgan who eventually identified the clanging, noisy procession as soon as it had drawn near enough to be recognized.
“It’s a Qulun clan. The Qulun are traders. They operate freely among both the Alwari and the city folk. Though no one likes them very much, there’s a need for them out on the plains, in the absence of shops and communications. Oft times they have very interesting things for sale.”
“What do they accept in return?” Obi-Wan asked the guide.
Bulgan licked his lower teeth. “Besides money? All manner of goods. Cuts of dried meat from the Alwari herds. Fruits and vegetables gathered from remote parts of Ansion. Wonderful handcrafted items made mostly by the females of each clan. Only the best.”
The Jedi indicated his understanding. In a Republic long since sated with the commonplace, exotic foodstuffs were much sought-after items. So were handicrafts. Bored with machine-made goods, the wealthy and the curious were always willing to pay high prices for unique handmade items that hailed from distant worlds with strange names.
“See.” Bulgan rose slightly in his saddle. “They’re coming out to greet us.”
The three riders who broke away from the main column headed straight toward the group of travelers, who responded by slowing to meet them. Otherwise the suubatars would have easily outdistanced the powerful but much shorter sadains. Falling in line alongside Luminara’s and Barriss’s mounts, the trio of Qulun flashed wide smiles and waved energetic greetings. It was a notably less confrontational meeting than the earlier one