Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [206]
Han got to unsteady feet. The Wookiee reached out his long arm and caught Han’s free hand, steadying him. The young bull had seen him coming and opened its maw, but when he pulled up short it closed its jaws with a crash and blew a geyser of spray through its blowhole.
When he saw the edges of the blowhole vibrate with the indrawing of breath, Han jammed the cone of dough down on it as hard as he could. It landed on the sucking blowhole with a peculiar shloop!
The Swimmer froze, its eyes bulging. Into what air passages and chambers the dough had been drawn, Han couldn’t begin to guess. The creature shook, then exploded in a sneeze that convulsed him, kicking up a fountain of water and nearly blowing Han off the raft with the fish-scented gust.
At that moment Shazeen’s friend arrived. She hit the younger creature and they battled furiously. All around, pairs of the creatures rolled, ducked, bit, and butted in pitched combat. Scaled hides took tremendous punishment and the sound threatened to deafen the humans; the turbulence promised to capsize the raft.
Han kept his attention riveted on Shazeen and Kasarax, thinking, If that old bull loses, it’ll be a wet stroll home. And the fish are biting today!
Both bulls were torn and injured, chunks missing from each one’s hide and flippers. The older one moved slowly, worn down by his nephew’s youthful endurance. They rammed together for another fierce exchange. Surprisingly, Kasarax went under.
Shazeen sought to follow up his advantage but failed to keep track of his antagonist and circled aimlessly. The air was so full of pealing battle cries that Shazeen took no notice of his passengers’ warnings. Kasarax had slyly and quietly surfaced behind his uncle and to his left, in the blind spot resulting from his missing eye. The younger Swimmer lunged with jaws gaping for a lethal grip at the base of his uncle’s skull.
But Shazeen moved with abrupt speed, coming around and bringing his head up sharply, tagging Kasarax’s chin with the boniest part of his foreskull. The crack echoed from the opposite lakeshore. Dazed by the terrible blow, Kasarax barely had time to wobble before Shazeen had his throat tightly between black jaws.
“That old con artist!” Badure whooped. Chewbacca and Hasti hugged, and Han leaned on the rail, laughing. Shazeen was shaking his nephew’s head, mercilessly, side to side and forward and back, but refraining from the death bite.
At last Kasarax, head bent back at a painful angle, no fight left in him, began a pitiful croaking. All around him, combat ceased at the sounds of ritualistic surrender. When all the others had separated, Kasarax was released and allowed to tread water meekly while his uncle stormed at him in the sibilant language of their kind.
With a final, piercing rebuke, Shazeen sent his nephew off with a hard butt of his head. Kasarax submitted, then stroked slowly away to haul his tow-raft back the way he had come. His followers trailed him in disarray, convoyed by Shazeen’s victorious supporters.
Shazeen moved to his own raft, feeling the pain he hadn’t allowed himself to show his enemies. Bleeding from fearsome wounds, his scarred, one-eyed head battered and torn, he asked, “Now then, where were we?”
“I was in the drink,” Han reminded him. “You were hauling the raft around to take out the shore-gang boss. Got him right in the bulb, too. Thanks.”
The old bull made a gurgling sound resembling a chuckle. “An accident, peewee; didn’t I tell you it’s un-Lawful to meddle in a human squabble?” He gurgled again, bringing his wide chest against the raft’s stern and shoving toward the opposite shore.
“What about your nephew?” Hasti wanted to know.
“Oh, he’s through trying to make the lake his own pond. Fool idea would have gotten him killed sooner or later anyway, and he’s too valuable to waste. I’ll need a deputy soon; haven’t got many more scraps like that