[Thrawn Trilogy] - 02(136)
The city was smaller than Leia had expected, particularly given the limited land area the Noghri had available to them. After only a few minutes, they arrived at the Grand Dukha.
From its name Leia had expected it to be simply a larger version of the dukha back in the village. It was certainly larger; but despite the similarity in design, there was a far different sense to this version. Its walls and roof were made of a silver-blue metal instead of wood, with no carvings of any sort on their surfaces. The supporting pillars were black-metal or worked stone, Leia couldn’t tell which. A wide set of black-and-red-marbled steps led up to a gray flagstone entrance terrace outside the double doors. The whole thing seemed cold and remote, very different from the mental picture of the Noghri ethos that she’d built up over the past few days. Fleetingly, she wondered if the Grand Dukha had been built not by the Noghri, but by the Empire.
At the top of the steps stood a row of thirteen middle aged Noghri males, each wearing an elaborately tooled garment that looked like a cross between a vest and a shawl. Behind them, his arms and legs chained to a pair of upright posts in the middle of the terrace, was Khabarakh.
Leia gazed past the row of dynasts at him, a ripple of sympathetic ache running through her. The maitrakh had described the mechanics of a Noghri public humiliation to her; but it was only as she looked at him that she began to grasp the full depth of the shame involved in the ritual. Khabarakh’s face was haggard and pale, and he sagged with fatigue against the chains holding his wrists and upper arms. But his head was upright, his dark eyes alert and watching.
The crowd parted to both sides as the landspeeder reached the dukha area, forming a passage for the vehicle to move through. The official escort went up the stairs, forming a line between the crowd and the row of dynasts. “Remember, we’re not here to fight,” Leia murmured to Chewbacca; and summoning every bit of regal demeanor she could muster, she stepped out of the landspeeder and walked up the stairs.
The last rustle of conversation in the crowd behind her vanished as she reached the top. “I greet you, dynasts of the Noghri people,” she said in a loud voice. “I am Leia Organa Solo, daughter of your Lord Darth Vader. He who came to you in your distress, and brought you aid.” She held out the back of her hand toward the Noghri in the center of the line.
He gazed at her for a moment without moving. Then, with obvious reluctance, he stepped forward and gingerly sniffed at her hand. He repeated the test twice before straightening up again. “The Lord Vader is dead,” he said. “Our new lord the Grand Admiral has ordered us to bring you to him, Leia Organa Solo. You will come with us to await the preparation of transport.”
From the bottom of the steps Chewbacca growled warningly. Leia quieted him with a gesture and shook her head. “I have not come here to surrender to your Grand Admiral,” she told the dynast.
“You will do so nonetheless,” he said. He signaled, and two of the guards left their line and moved toward Leia.
She stood her ground, again signaling Chewbacca to do the same. “Do you serve the Empire, then, or the people of Honoghr?”
“All Noghri of honor serve both,” the dynast said.
“Indeed?” Leia said. “Does serving Honoghr now mean sending generation after generation of young men to die in the Empire’s wars?”
“You are an alien,” the dynast said contemptuously. “You know nothing about the honor of the Noghri.” He nodded to the guards now standing at Leia’s sides. “Take her into the dukha.”
“Are you then so afraid of the words of a lone alien woman?” Leia asked as the Noghri took her arms in a firm grip. “Or is it that you fear your own power will be diminished by my coming?
“You will speak no words of discord and poison!” the dynast snarled.
Chewbacca rumbled again, and Leia could sense him preparing to leap up the stairs to her aid. “My words are not of discord,” she said, raising her voice loud enough for the whole crowd to hear. “My words are of treachery.”
There was a sudden stirring from the crowd. “You will be silent,” the dynast insisted. “Or I will have you silenced.”
“I would hear her speak,” the maitrakh called from below.
“You will be silent as well!” the dynast barked as the crowd murmured approval of the maitrakh’s demand. “You have no place or speech here, maitrakh of the clan Kihm’bar. I have not called a convocate of the Noghri people.”
“Yet the convocate is here,” the maitrakh countered. “The Lady Vader has come. We would hear her words.”