The odor of roasting meat filled their nostrils as they followed King Frane to the main table set up near the pit. Smoke blew in their faces. Obi-Wan coughed, then stared in distaste at the bloody carcass revolving over the flame. Qui
Gon was sure his usually ravenous young Padawan would not have much of an appetite this evening.
“Sit down, sit down,” King Frane urged them as he took a seat at the head of the long table. “No, Taroon. Let the Jedi sit next to me.”
A tall, light-blue Rutanian with coiled braids arranged in loops around his head stepped back and glowered at the Jedi.
“My son, Prince Taroon,” King Frane said. Qui-Gon turned to greet him, but King Frane waved his hand, and Taroon took a place at the other side of his father. “Let’s talk about Leed. That’s the reason you’re here, eh?”
Qui-Gon sat as a server placed a heaping plate of meat in front of him. He nodded his thanks.
“Prince Leed has decided to stay on Senali - ” he began.
“Decided!” King Frane interrupted with a roar. He pounded the table. “So that lying dinko Meenon tells me! My son has been kidnapped!”
“But you yourself saw the holocom,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “I have seen it, too. Prince Leed seems sincere.”
“He has been coerced, or threatened,” King Frane insisted, forking up a huge piece of meat. He shook his fork at Qui-Gon. “Or they gave him one of their potions. They are primitives. They can use herbs and plants to cloud the mind. Leed would never decide to stay. Never!”
Suddenly, even as he stared fiercely at Qui-Gon, Frane’s large green eyes filled with tears. He picked up his napkin and began to mop his streaming eyes. “My oldest child. My treasure. Why won’t he face me?” He blew his nose in his napkin and brooded. When he next looked at the Jedi, his face wore a mask of anger. “It is the dirty Senalis who made him do this!” he bellowed. “Why will he not come and face me?”
Perhaps because he is afraid of you, Qui-Gon thought. But he could not say it aloud. The king’s changes of mood were startling, but they seemed sincere.
“What am Ito do, Jedi?” King Frane forked the meat again and chewed vigorously. “Declare war?”
“Naturally we oppose such a step,” Qui-Gon said. “That’s why we are here. We can meet with Leed and assess the situation.”
“Bring him home,” King Frane said. “And eat your dinner. It is the best Rutan has to offer.” Qui-Gon took polite bites. “Meenon has agreed to our coming.”
“He is a pig! He is a savage!” King Frane cried. “Do not believe a word he says. He stole my son. What does he know of loyalty? My son is a jewel. I kept up with his progress on their filthy planet. They have annual contests of speed and endurance and skill. He has won every year since he was thirteen. He is a jewel, I tell you. A natural leader!” He thumped the table. “Meant to be my heir. He is the only one who can succeed me! Everything I have, everyone around me is worthless if I cannot have my firstborn son follow me.”
Qui-Gon glanced at Taroon. The younger son was pretending not to listen, but King Frane’s bellow was certainly audible to him. Why did his father treat him as though he were invisible? He was only a year younger than Leed, a thin, awkward young man with long arms and legs. Was he worthless to his father?
“I will read the truth in Leed’s eyes,” King Frane continued, heaping another helping of meat onto Qui-Gon’s still full plate. “Bring him to me, and I will know. If they will not let him go, I will invade their planet and bring them to their knees. You tell Meenon that.”
“Jedi will not deliver a threat,” Qui-Gon said firmly. “We will try to persuade your son to come back. We will not force him, or force the government of Senali. But if we bring him back, you cannot force him to stay. I must have your word on that.”
“Yes, yes, you have my word. But Leed will want to stay, I guarantee you. The boy knows his duty. I will send my younger son Taroon with you to deliver the threat to Meenon. He will also take Leed’s place on Senali when my boy returns home.”
“I will not allow Taroon to deliver a threat, either,” Qui-Gon said. “If that is your objective, Taroon must stay behind. His presence could compromise a diplomatic mission. Meenon could feel pressured by the presence of someone from the royal family. Besides, Jedi always negotiate alone.”
King Frane tore off a piece of meat with his sharp yellow teeth. Craftiness gleamed in his eyes. “I have just signed an order to imprison Meenon’s daughter, Yaana, here on Rutan. I hear she is just as beloved to Meenon as Leed is to me. Let him know the pain of a grieving father! What do you think of that, Jedi?”