Chapter Thirty-Nine

"And you've been at the Temple all your life?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I was brought to the Temple when I was very small."

Ishan mulled over that. He and Obi-Wan were sitting in Obi-Wan's quarters in the Tarkasian palace.

"Don't you miss your parents?"

"I never really knew them. The Jedi Order is my family."

"Do you think your parents miss you?"

"I don't know, your highness. Maybe. But, since they gave me to the Temple willingly, I'm certain they did it because they wanted what was best for me."

Ishan nodded. "That is what parents are supposed to do for their children, isn't it? Give the child what's best for the child, not what's best for the parents?"

"I've never been a parent, Prince Ishan, but yes, I think that is what parents are supposed to do."

Ishan was about to say something else, but then the door to Obi-Wan's quarters slammed open.

"Brother! So this is where you've been hiding!"

A tall brown-skinned man in his late twenties with russet-colored eyes, a neat black beard and long braided hair strode into Obi-Wan's quarters. He was as tall as Ishan, but broader of body and more muscular. He grabbed Ishan in a bear hug and roughly, but affectionately, disheveled his hair.

Ishan struggled to talk past the man's arms.

"Master Kenobi, my brother, Prince Markus."

Obi-Wan stood and bowed.

Markus released Ishan and looked down at Obi-Wan.

"So you're the Jedi. Kinda short, aren't you? Thought all you Jedi were ten feet tall and had lightening bolts coming out of your eyes."

"Markus, you shouldn't talk that way to Master Kenobi," Ishan said, his voice filled with outrage. "It's disrespectful."

Markus threw his head back and let out a great peal of laughter.

"Now, come little brother, you know me. Respectful? Never."

He glanced over at Obi-Wan.

"No insult was intended, Master Kenobi. I know how much my brother reveres the Jedi and I can't resist teasing him about it."

"No insult intended, no insult taken," Obi-Wan said quietly.

Markus nodded. He strode over to a table upon which was a bowl of fruit. He picked up a large peach and tore into it with strong white teeth.

"When do we leave so my brother can finally pluck the Rose of Sylvonna." Markus grinned over at Obi-Wan and winked.

Ishan's face darkened with blood. "Markus," he said warningly.

Markus walked back over to Ishan and Obi-Wan, the pulp from the peach gleaming on his chin. He slapped Ishan on the shoulder.

"My brother is a virgin, Master Kenobi," Markus said, "so such talk never fails to make him blush like a maiden. But you and I are men. We know the joys and delight of women."

Ishan gave his brother a dark look.

Markus bit into the peach again, chewing lustily.

"Ah, what pleasures await you, little brother," he whispered as he leered at Ishan.

"Isn't that right, Jedi?" and Markus abruptly turned and elbowed Obi-Wan roughly in the ribs.

"All right, Markus, that's enough. I was talking to Master Kenobi, so if you don't mind...," and Obi-Wan was surprised when Ishan grabbed his larger brother by the arm and pulled him quickly towards the door.

"Fine, fine, I'll go," Markus cried, laughing loudly as Ishan pushed him out of the room, "but make sure the Jedi instructs you on what to do on your wedding night, little brother, or we may find ourselves at war again if you fail to please the Rose. And don't forget, she's a Sylvonnan. They're all born knowing about the act of love."

Ishan slammed the door on Markus' laughter. He turned and shook his head.

"Forgive my brother, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan smiled. "That's quite all right, your highness. He's rather high-spirited for a Tarkasian, but he appears pleasant enough."

Ishan walked back over to his chair and sat. Obi-Wan took his seat again.

"Oh, yes, he's a great brother. None better. But he loves only three things; women, the bullfights and our mother. And me, I guess, though I don't know why. We're nothing alike. But then, I'm not like anyone in my family," Ishan said sadly.

"I'm sure that's not true, your highness."

Ishan only shrugged. Then he spent the rest of the afternoon asking Obi-Wan questions about the Jedi.

-----------------

Obi-Wan looked over as Ishan gazed out the cockpit window as they flew to Sylvonna. It had taken some doing on Prince Markus' part to convince his parents to let Ishan accompany Obi-Wan in the skipship.

When Ishan had first asked his parents, they had vehemently denied their permission. However, when Markus explained to them that, one, not only was Ishan going to be in the company of a Jedi but, two, an entire squadron of the Tarkasian fleet was accompanying the wedding party to Sylvonna, the king and queen finally gave their consent.

Obi-Wan was glad for the company. Over the last two days he had found Ishan to be a pleasant, earnest and well-meaning young man and Obi-Wan had greatly enjoyed their talks about the Jedi Order. Talking to Ishan about the Jedi way of life had also helped confirm to Obi-Wan his own commitment to his life's purpose.

"Master Kenobi," Ishan said as he turned away from the window and looked over at Obi-Wan.

"Yes, your highness?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "In love?"

Ishan's eyes widened.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that a subject which is forbidden to the Jedi?"

"No, of course not, your highness. It's just, well, I'm afraid I don't see where you're going with the question."

Ishan sighed. "Master Kenobi, I'm about to marry someone I don't even know. And since I don't know her, I can't possibly love her. And I've never been in love. I was just wondering what it felt like."

"Your highness, I don't think I'm the best person you should talk to about this. Have you discussed this with your parents?"

Ishan laughed sarcastically. "Oh, yes, Master Kenobi, if by discussion you mean they talked and I listened. I have no choice, you see. The peace between Tarkasia and Sylvonna must be sealed with a marriage. Did you know the peace accord was signed 12 years ago? Nadira was supposed to marry Markus once she came of age, but King Tahal and Queen Samar thought he was too old for her, so I was betrothed to her instead. As a result, I will live the rest of my life on Sylvonna and probably never see Tarkasia again."

"I'm sure you'll be allowed to visit, your highness."

Ishan shook his head. "I envy you so much, Master Kenobi. You get to travel all through the galaxy and see all kinds of wondrous and amazing places. You don't have to marry someone you don't love or live out the rest of your life among strangers." He sighed deeply. "I wish I were a Jedi."

"I'm sure it's not that bad, your highness. New experiences always appear unsettling at first, but some good can be found, even in the most hopeless of situations."

"All right, Master Kenobi," Ishan said. "You've met her. What is she like?"

"Who?"

"My future wife. Princess Nadira."

For a moment Obi-Wan didn't answer. He'd only met Nadira for a few moments and all he remembered of her was the impishness in her bright green eyes and that high, annoying laugh of hers. He supposed one could say she was pretty; however, if Obi-Wan were going to marry, which of course he had no intention of ever doing so, it wouldn't be to anyone like Nadira.

"Well, I only saw her for a few moments, your highness, you understand, but, uh, she's very charming," Obi-Wan said tentatively, "and pleasant and she's, uh, let's see, did I say she was charming?"

Ishan continued to stare at him.

"And very pretty," Obi-Wan finished lamely.

Ishan gazed at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. Then he nodded curtly. He crossed his arms and looked out the cockpit window.

"I see," was all he said.

Obi-Wan sighed and turned back to his instrument panel.

To be continued....