Star Wars: The Courtship of Princess Leia Read online

  Augwynne looked at Han and Leia, nodded thoughtfully. “Leia told us you would ask for these three things,” the old woman said. “The Singing Mountain clan will do all that it can to meet your purchase price, but Leia is not part of the bargain. We cannot force her into a marriage. We will have the gold and gems by dawn. At this very moment, three sisters have gone to retrieve your ship so that you and your hairy Wooka can fix it.”

  “Now wait a minute!” Han said, realizing he had spoken too soon, not realizing the witches were serious.

  “You’re too late!” Leia gloated. “You’ve just sold yourself a planet!”

  Han began to object, and Chewie growled, but Augwynne raised a hand. “Do not regret your price, Han Solo. The sisters of the Singing Mountain clan will gladly pay it, though it cost many of us our lives. Gethzerion may fight us in hopes of capturing you and your ship. That is why the Force storm rages out over the desert. But we have already considered your terms, and we accept.”

  Already considered your terms, Han wondered. So that was why Leia had spent so much time with them earlier in the day while he had worked in the fields. The witches had been pumping her for information, scheming ways to get this planet from him, and they’d agreed to fight the Nightsisters in his behalf. They’d probably even timed it so that they brought Han and the Nightsisters upstairs together so that Han would see what the opposition was like. In other words, they had manipulated him from moment one. This Augwynne was pretty slick. Han asked, “What would you do even if you owned this planet?”

  “We would sell land to settlers,” Augwynne said, “and hire teachers to come to us from the stars. We would join the New Republic and learn your ways so that in time our children will no longer be outcasts, living in these rough hills.”

  She did have things planned. In fact, it sounded to Han as if Leia might have done some recruiting before Han was brought up from the fields. Threepio said, “Excuse me, but might I inquire as to how you are going to retrieve the ship?”

  Augwynne said, “The sisters took three rancors. They will cut down some trees and make a skid, then pull the ship back here. We will cast a spell and lift it up into the mountain, where we can conceal it while you work on it. Would this be adequate?”

  “I suppose,” Han said, taken aback. He didn’t like the idea of selling his planet, but now that he thought about it for a moment, considering the Nightsisters, he suspected this might be the best offer he could get. “If the rancors are as big as the ones I’ve seen, then, yeah, three or four could pull it. But I wouldn’t want it banged up any more than it is.”

  Augwynne pursed her lips, studied him thoughtfully. “Our sisters should have it back here by dawn. I must warn you, you will be in great danger: Now that Gethzerion knows you have a starship, she will not relent in her pursuit of it. She will send the Nightsisters to capture it at the very least.”

  “If the Nightsisters plan to launch an attack,” Leia asked, “how long will it take?”

  “The Nightsisters are cautious,” Augwynne said. “I think they will launch a full attack only if they believe that their forces can overwhelm us. We have cast spells to learn of their plans. Right now, some of the sisters are scattered and are in the process of returning to the city. Once they combine their numbers, I believe they will march as soon as possible. We have perhaps three days. You will need to repair your ship and leave before then.”

  “Or what?” Han asked.

  “Or we might all die,” Augwynne said seriously. “If the Nightsisters attack, I do not believe that our clan will be able to withstand them. There are a dozen other clans in the mountains, but even the nearest is a four-day march. I have sent runners to the sisters of the Frenzied River and the Red Hills clans, asking for aid, but it will come only after we retreat. You must leave before the Nightsisters can attack!”

  Han looked at Chewie, Leia, and Threepio. He’d gotten them into a real jam this time. The best thing for the clan here would be if he simply blew up the ship so that Gethzerion would have no reason to hunt him down. But if he did that, they might never get off of this planet. Han could handle being marooned here, but what of Chewbacca? The Wookiee had a family, and though he would stay here if Han required it, Han couldn’t demand that kind of sacrifice from him. Threepio? Without his oil baths and spare parts, he’d fail within a year. And of course there was Leia. He’d forced her here against her will and now felt obligated to take her back. Yet he knew she would not value her freedom above the lives of others.

  Han sat cross-legged, rested his hands on his knees and rubbed his eyes. I covered my trail pretty darned good, Han thought. But sooner or later, someone is going to track us down. Omogg might figure out where he’d gone. The Drackmarian was smart. She might even sell such information to some bounty hunters. Han was sure the New Republic would put a price on his head. Sooner or later, someone would come looking. There might still be some hope for escape from this planet. “I don’t really want Gethzerion trying to run off in my ship any more than you do,” Han admitted. “But maybe we should just give it to her.”

  Chewie roared and Augwynne said, “We can’t give Gethzerion a ship. She is too powerful. You can’t give her access to the stars.”

  “Han,” Leia said, “Augwynne has filled me in on a few things. I believe the Emperor himself was afraid of the Nightsisters. That’s why he interdicted this planet. Years ago, he started a nice little penal colony here, not knowing about the Nightsisters. When he learned about them, he blew the planet’s airfield from orbit and stranded hundreds of his own people here, along with the prisoners, rather than risk letting Gethzerion escape. That’s how frightened he was of Gethzerion.

  “Those warships up above us were put there to keep people on this rock as much as to keep them fenced out. And now that Zsinj is in charge of this sector, he’s still afraid. The Imperials who got stranded at the prison might still be able to cobble some kind of a ship together, and Zsinj has to watch out for that.”

  Han sighed, “Maybe we should just blow the Falcon. Then Gethzerion wouldn’t have any reason to come hunting for us.”

  “Never concede to evil,” Augwynne said. “That is our oldest and most sacred law. When we concede to evil, even in a small way, we feed it, and it grows stronger. Gethzerion has grown powerful because we of the clans have not challenged her for far too long. We should have fought her years ago, when we saw what she was becoming, but we always hoped that we could turn her from her ways. If we need to fight her now, then we will do it, for it is the right thing for us to do. And you must fix your ship and leave. That is the right thing for you to do. I for one will do all in my power to protect you.”

  Han fumbled in his pocket, pulled out the deed for Dathomir, and extended it to Augwynne. “Here,” he said, “you take this.” In that moment, Han wondered how he could have ever been so deluded as to think that Leia would choose a husband based on the material goods he could offer.

  “No,” she objected, pushing his hand away. “We have not earned it yet.”

  “Take it for safekeeping then,” Han said, “until you feel you’ve earned it.”

  Augwynne cradled the cube in her hand, lovingly. “Someday,” she whispered.

  Han sighed. He remembered the explosions as the orbiting warships pounded the wreck up by the lake, destroying any trace of it. Parts would be hard to come by. If he had all the parts—the wiring, coolant, and a nav computer—then he and Chewie could probably fix the Falcon in a few hours. But that was starting to look like a big if. He could strip wiring from anywhere—a couple of crushed Imperial walkers would do. He toyed with the idea of draining coolant from the walkers’ hydraulics, but decided it wasn’t worth the risk: the mixture might not meet the rigors of trying to cool a hyperdrive generator on a spacefaring ship. Still, if the prison had had even a modest shipyard, they ought to have a couple of barrels of coolant, maybe a spare astrogation brain or even a whole R2 unit. “In the morning, I’ll check out my ship, figure out exactly ho
w damaged it is. I know right now that it’s going to need some parts. We’ll need to leave for the prison tomorrow to scavenge. Augwynne, can you send someone to guide us?”

  Augwynne studied him for a moment, dancing flames reflecting from her dark eyes and graying hair. “I think it is time for you to rest. You can look at your ship and make your plans in the morning.”

  Han yawned, stretched. Leia watched the ground by the fire. At first, Han thought she was thinking, but he realized after a moment that she was just exhausted, half-asleep, letting her mind drift. He got up, pulled off her helm, surprised to find that it was actually quite light in his hands. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

  She looked up at him dully, a hint of anger or confusion in her eyes. “I’m not going to bed with you!”

  “I just meant—I thought you’d like it if I fix a bed up for you.”

  Leia looked away angrily, and said, “Oh.”

  “You all look tired,” Augwynne said. “I’ll take you up to your room.” She lit a candle in the fire and then led Han, Leia, Chewie, and Threepio away from the noisy diners, up the drafty stairs to a large sleeping chamber. An opening led from the room out to a stone parapet overlooking the valley. The room itself held dozens of straw beds spread out on the floor, covered with heavy blankets. Augwynne’s male servant lit a fire in a small hearth, while Augwynne went out on the parapet for a moment and watched the distant lightning. She sang softly. When she returned, she muttered, “Gethzerion is restless, and she has posted Nightsisters quite close to the fortress. I’ll increase the guards tonight. Sleep soundly.”

  “Thank you,” Threepio said, patting her back as she left. “Well, she seems hospitable enough,” he remarked after she’d gone. “I wonder what they have in the way of oil around here.” The droid paced the room, studying his surroundings.

  Leia took off her robe, pulled out her blaster and set it under her blanket, then lay down on a mat to sleep. Chewbacca went into a corner, put his back against a wall, then sat down with his bowcaster in hand, hung his head and closed his eyes. Han glanced around the room, took a mat by the window where the fresh mountain air blew in. His sinuses were definitely bothering him. Great, he thought, I win a planet in a card game, and to top it all off, I’m allergic to it. Outside, he could still hear the booming of thunder, the songs of the witches in their halls below, and water dripping on the parapet outside the window.

  It was quiet, and Han could not quite get to sleep. Threepio walked around the room nervously and then said, “Princess Leia, would you like some relaxing music to help you sleep?”

  The golden droid stood in the center of the stone room, eyes shining, head tilted to one side.

  “Music?” Leia asked.

  “Yes, I’ve written a song,” Threepio said, “and I thought you might appreciate it if I sang it to you.” His tone said that he’d be offended if she didn’t listen.

  Leia frowned, and Han rather pitied her. He’d never heard Threepio sing, but he couldn’t imagine that it would be much good. “Sure,” Leia said hesitantly, “but, maybe just the first verse.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Threepio said. “I’ve titled my song, The Virtues of King Han Solo’!”

  A musical intro with horns and strings began playing, and Han found himself a bit surprised. He knew that Threepio could mimic other voices, and he’d heard the droid give some nice sound effects when telling stories to the Ewoks, but he’d never heard music coming from the droid. Threepio did a rather convincing impression of a full symphony orchestra.

  Then he began swirling in dance, doing a soft-shoe that scraped and echoed over the stone floors, and the droid sang in a deep voice that sounded an awful lot like Jukas Alim, one of the galaxy’s more popular singers:

  He’s got his own planet,

  Although it’s kind of wild.

  Wookiees love him.

  Women love him.

  He’s got a winning smile!

  Though he may seem cool and cocky,

  He’s more sensitive than he seems,

  (Chorus sung in accompaniment with three women who all sound like Leia)

  Han Solo,

  What a man! Solo.

  He’s every princess’s dream!

  Threepio ended with a flourish of horns and drums and a tap routine, then took a bow to Leia. Leia just stared at him with an expression somewhere between bewilderment and horror.

  “Hey, that’s pretty good,” Han said. “How many more verses do you have?”

  “Only fifteen so far,” Threepio said, “but I’m sure I can come up with more.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Leia said, and Chewie roared his agreement.

  “Well!” Threepio huffed. He powered down for the night.

  Han lay back and smiled to himself. The chorus “Han Solo, / What a man! Solo,” kept ringing through his mind the way that stupid jingles will, and he took a strange sort of pleasure in knowing that Threepio had gone to so much trouble.

  He listened to Chewbacca’s deep breathing as the Wookiee fell asleep. Yet Han lay, restless.

  “Han,” Leia whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “That was nice of you, offering her the planet.”

  “Oh,” Han said, almost choking on the words, “it was nothing.”

  “You’re a pretty nice guy sometimes,” Leia said.

  Han raised an eyebrow, looked across the room to where Leia rested on her mat, blankets pulled tight against her throat. “So, uh, does that mean you love me?”

  “No,” Leia said flippantly. “It just means that sometimes I think you’re a pretty nice guy.”

  Han lay back, smiled, and breathed the sweet night air.

  When Augwynne returned to her council chambers, the children and men were still there, but the sisters of her clan had formed a circle. “Well,” she said to the sisters, made nervous by the presence of the men and children she had sworn to protect, “you have all seen what the offworlders offered. Now we must decide how best to meet their price.”

  Old Tannath said, “Moments ago you quoted the Book of Law, saying that we should not concede to evil. But when have we of the Singing Mountain clan ever stopped conceding to evil? Gethzerion is powerful because we of the clans have not challenged her for far too long. When she began following her dark ways, we could have put an end to her easily.”

  “Hush,” Augwynne said. “That was long ago, the mistake cannot be unmade. We were right to hope that she would turn from her ways.”

  “She violated all of our laws,” old Tannath said. “Those who commit evil are supposed to go into the wilderness alone to seek cleansing, but she sought to unite the forsaken ones and create the clan of Nightsisters. We could have killed them all when there were less than a dozen. And when she and her cohorts went to work for the Imperials, we could have warned the offworlders at the least. Yet even then we did not fight her. Admit it, Augwynne, you have loved Gethzerion too much, and we have feared her too much. We should have killed her years ago.”

  “Tannath, do not question past decisions here,” Augwynne said, letting her tone of voice carry her anger, “in the presence of men and children. We would not want to upset them.”

  “Why not? Will my words upset them any more than Gethzerion’s attacks?” Tannath asked. “ ‘Never concede to evil.’ I ask that the council obey its own law.”

  “We have all agreed to this already, earlier this afternoon,” Augwynne said. “We have all agreed to help Leia and the offworlders.”

  “You agreed to help them, but did you agree to pay the full price? Even if we can help them fix their ship and escape, do you think Gethzerion will just allow us that small victory? No, she will seek vengeance.”

  The room became silent as the witches held their breath, thinking. If a sister from another clan stole a male slave to take as a husband, it was considered unseemly for the man’s owner to steal him back. You allowed the victory. But Augwynne could see that Tannath understood the Nightsisters too well. The Nights
isters would not allow the Singing Mountain clan even a small victory.

  Sister Shen was nursing her baby, and she looked up, suddenly frightened. “We will have to prepare to escape,” the young woman said. “We can evacuate the children and the old now, send them to the Frenzied River clan. We should prepare to retreat if we are attacked.”

  “And leave the ship in the hands of the Nightsisters?” Tannath asked.

  “Yes,” another answered. “If Gethzerion left the planet, we would be rid of her.”

  “For how long?” Sister Azbeth asked. “She dreams of power and glory. Yet she would know that we are her enemies. No, she will hunt us down. We would gain nothing, in the end. No, we must fight her.”

  “But if we ran—” one of the sisters said.

  “Then the Nightsisters would only chase us, fight us in the open where we have no advantage,” Tannath said. “No, we must prepare to make our stand here, at Singing Mountain, where our weapons and fortifications will be some help.”

  “Sisters, you are talking war,” a witch said from the back of the crowd.

  “And what choices do we have, really?” old Tannath asked.

  “But I am afraid it is a war that we cannot win,” Augwynne said.

  “If we choose not to fight, then we will have only chosen to lose without fighting,” the old one answered. “I for one will fight. Who is with me?”

  The old witch looked around the room, and the clan was quiet, even the sound of breathing was stifled. Augwynne looked at the rigid expressions, the set eyes of the women, and could see that this decision was one they regretted having to make. It was a decision they had put off too long.

  Sister Shen juggled her nursing child to the other breast, said, “I am with you,” and at the back of the room two more answered, “I am with you,” and their small voices fell like the first tumbling stones that signify an avalanche.