Anakin pushed the thought away. It was too gruesome to think that Tahiri might have lived for most of her life with people who had killed her parents.
“Anakin, come meet my bantha,” Tahiri called over her shoulder.
Anakin walked toward the three-meter-tall creature.
“His name is Bangor,” Tahiri began.
Sliven cut in abruptly with a string of grunts.
“Sliven says that we don’t name our banthas.” Tahiri turned to face the leader of her tribe.
“Well, I do,” she shot back in Basic.
Anakin looked confused.
“Oh, Sliven understands Basic, although I don’t know where he learned it. But he pretends he doesn’t, so I usually speak in his language,” Tahiri explained slowly, so that she could be certain Sliven understood her words. The Raider didn’t reply. Anakin studied the bantha beside Tahiri. He’d read that the Sand People used them as beasts of burden, and that they could survive for weeks in the desert without food or water. He reached up and petted the creature. Bangor turned its large brown eyes toward him, gently blinking long lashes.
“Bangor is an orphan, too,” Tahiri said. “He was found wandering alone in the desert shortly after I was found by Sliven.”
At that, the Raider growled fiercely.
“Sliven is angry,” Tahiri explained to Anakin. “He says that I’m not an orphan. He says I’m a Raider, and that we’ve wasted enough time and must return to the tribe before dark.” Tahiri frowned at Sliven, then whispered softly to Bangor. The bantha knelt, and she climbed aboard his back. Then she reached down to Anakin and pulled him up behind her. The bantha gently rose to his feet. Sliven pulled Tionne up behind him. Then he barked, and the banthas trotted away from the outskirts of Mos Eisley toward an expanse of desert which looked endless.
Anakin was suddenly overcome by the feeling that he and Tahiri were traveling into unspoken danger.
They had been traveling for hours. Anakin felt the heat of Tatooine’s twin suns beating down on his head. Tahiri had pulled the collar of her orange jumpsuit up to protect her face from blowing sand. The grit of the desert filled Anakin’s mouth and eyes. There was no way to keep the sand out. Anakin wondered if this was what it was like for the young spirits trapped inside the globe. He hoped not.
An hour before, Sliven had offered the Jedi candidates some cloth to wrap their heads, and two pairs of eye protectors. Tahiri had declined for both of them, although she did accept shoes for herself. She was being difficult, but Anakin understood. His friend felt torn. Tahiri had thought it would be easy to make the decision to stay at the academy. But now that she was here, the decision would be more difficult.
No one spoke during the journey into the desert. Sliven led the group, but didn’t utter a word.
“Is it always this quiet?” Anakin finally whispered to Tahiri.
“Yes,” she replied. “Now you can understand why I talk so much. In all my years here, I don’t think I said as much as I would in one day at the academy. And don’t think I didn’t try,” Tahiri added with a laugh. “But the only one who would ever talk to me-really talk, once I learned his language-was Sliven.”
“He’s not talking now,” Anakin noted.
“He will,” Tahiri said. “He will, because he’s the reason I’m here. Sliven is the leader of our tribe, but he’s more than that. He’s the one who found me. The Sand People are nomads, traveling in small tribes within the harsh desert. They’re experts at survival, because above all else they’re practical. The weak are left to die. Only the strong, those who can care for themselves, are part of the tribe. And outsiders, any outsiders, are of no concern. Especially children who don’t belong to the tribe.”
“But you were an outsider, an orphan child,” Anakin interrupted.
“Yes,” Tahiri said softly. “And for some reason Sliven chose to take me into his tribe. To care for me in the only way he knew how.. I didn’t grow up with a father or mother like you did, Anakin. But Sliven was as close to a father as I’ll ever know. He taught me how to scavenge for food and water, how to train and ride a bantha. And how to fight with a gaderffii stick. “Sliven knows that if I choose to remain at the academy the tribe will refuse to take me back. I think that having me return to make my decision was Sliven’s way of giving me one last chance to remain with the tribe, and with him.”
“It sounds like he truly cares for you,” Anakin offered.
“Cares?” Tahiri weighed the word thoughtfully. “In his own way, I know he does. But he’s never cared enough to give me the one thing in my life that I wanted. He has never told me the story of how he found me. And if he truly cared, he would give me my history,” Tahiri ended sadly.