Chapter Twenty-Two--The Penalty is Ritual Disembowelment
The next morning, Beru wondered why Madame Rijdan thought sex solved matters: in her case, it just seemed to complicate things.
Is Owen capable of telling me that he wants to proceed with the duel, even after accepting the pro-offered bait? she wondered. And the answer to that question is: of course he is.
And indeed, he did.
"That had nothing to do with it!" he claimed.
"Nothing to do with it!" Beru snapped. "I told you up front."
"You told me you were trying to manipulate me, yeah," Owen said, trying to look dignified while half-undressed. He very nearly managed it.
"I want you to forget about the duel," Beru said, not mincing matters.
Owen shook his head. The more clothes he had on, the more stubborn he got, Beru thought, exasperated.
"Owen!" Beru cried. "I am *not* joking around here!"
"You're awfully concerned about that duel," Owen muttered resentfully.
Beru raised her brows. "Which means?"
"Is it Ben you're worried about?" Owen asked.
"Does it matter?" Beru was rapidly losing her temper, a sensation she disliked.
"Yes!" Owen said, glaring at her.
"It wasn't Ben I just slept with."
"Do you wish it was?"
"And what does *that* mean?" Beru cried.
"Did you ever--" Owen began, and then stopped.
"Did I ever what?"
"Sleep with Ben?" Owen blurted.
His good reflexes saved him; he managed to dodge the heavy crystal glass that Beru threw at him. She then began throwing everything at him that she could put a hand to, in an almost steady stream. Owen tried dodging them; then he retreated to the doorway.
"Get out!" Beru cried.
"You didn't answer----!"
"Out!"
She slammed the bedroom door and locked it. Then she found her carryalls, and proceeded, as quickly as she could, to pack. It took longer than she wanted, because her hands were trembling so much from sheer anger. She could hear Owen pounding on the door, but she ignored him.
Packing complete, she threw open the door, nearly bowling Owen over. Both carryalls in hand, she pushed quickly past him.
"Beru, where are you going?"
"I wish I could say I was going home to my mother, but I can't," Beru said. "But I am leaving. And I'm taking Luke with me. You and Ben can murder each other for all I care. In fact, I hope you do."
Leaving that sentiment ringing in his ears, she headed for Madame Rijdan's home.
But in her grand and hasty exit, she had forgotten that she had no money. This meant she had to rely upon the kindness of strangers in getting to her destination. Luckily, the usual Bakaniri gallantry saw her through. But the effort delayed her to mid-day, and she arrived to find that Madame Rijdan had already taken Luke home.
Beru arrived back at the suite in a state of smouldering exasperation. She would have to see Owen again, which she feared; given a weak moment, she might throttle him. So she carefully masked her presence in the Force, and cautiously opened the door--maybe, if she was lucky, she could retrieve Luke without Owen noticing. Well, that's not likely, she thought, but maybe something today will finally go my way.
The entryway was empty, but she could hear voices from the parlour-hall. One was Owen's.
"I just don't understand her," Owen said.
Somebody else murmured something. Beru could not hear it who was.
"She doesn't want me to fight Ben. She thinks I can't win."
Another inaudible murmur. Beru strained to hear.
"I think she still loves Ben," Owen said morosely. "That must be the reason. After all, she wouldn't answer, when I asked her--"
"When you asked her what?" Now Beru knew the identity of the other speaker: Madame Rijdan.
Beru peered around the corner. Owen and Madame Rijdan were sitting facing each other in the parlour-hall, drinking cups of caf. Luke was sitting on Owen's lap, and as he talked, Owen absently rocked the child back and forth. If he stopped, Luke imperiously rapped on his arm, demanding immediate resumption of motion. He got it. Beru stared at this tableau, marveling over the utter perversity of the male sex. She had spent months mediating disputes between Owen and Luke. Just as she had finally decided to leave Owen for good, he and Luke---of course!---decided to bond with each other. It was somehow typical of both of them, she thought bitterly.
"When I asked her whether she'd slept with Ben," Owen said.
Madame Rijdan was shocked. "You asked her that?"
"Yes, but--"
"Yes, but nothing! What did she say?"
"She didn't say anything, but she threw a glass at me. It shattered on the wall."
"Well, honey, if you're still standing, and that's all she did, you're a lucky man."
Owen bridled, and said stubbornly, "She didn't answer."
"I wouldn't have answered, either. That's a damned insult, and none of your business, anyway."
Owen hesitated, and then said in a small voice, "Should I apologize?"
Madame Rijdan considered this. "You could," she said. "Not that it's going to make any difference."
"You think not?"
"Of course not. No Bakaniri woman would accept the apology, anyway. An insult like that---to their honor and their clan--requires punishment."
Owen raised his brows: "Such as?"
"That kind of insult? Any self-respecting Bakaniri woman would carve your liver out. While you watched."
"You're joking."
By way of answer, Madame Rijdan pulled up her formal Bakaniri daywear to display a still-shapely leg encased in a dark silken stocking. Just below the knee, held in place by a embroidered garter, was a wicked-looking vibro-knife.
"See that," she said. "I'm not joking at all."
Owen stared at her blankly.
Madame Rijdan unsheathed the knife and gave him a significant look. Owen edged away from her.
"You've got a nerve," Madame Rijdan said. "You don't insult women like that on this planet. Such behavior is *not* allowed. And that poor little girl loves you, too."
Owen snorted. "She doesn't," he said.
"Yes, she does. You should have seen her after that brute of a brother of yours worked her over. I thought she should go to the hospital, but she wouldn't. Wanted to get back to you. I don't know why."
"I don't know why, either," Beru said, breaking the silence.
Madame Rijdan and Owen both looked up. Luke crowed in greeting. Beru swooped in on him, and gathered him up. He looked distinctly wired and his hands were sticky. Beru diagnosed sweets; the Bakaniri believed in stuffing children with them, and Madame Rijdan was obviously no exception. She suppressed her irritation.
"Thank you, Madame Rijdan, it was very nice of you to look after Luke for us," she said formally.
It was request for privacy, but subtle signals were lost on the Bakaniri. Madame Rijdan shook her head.
"Honey," she said. "Here's my vibro-knife. You're going to need it."
Beru glanced at Owen. His face was expressionless. But his complexion--yes! was turning distinctly green. Beru felt a surge of amusement overcome her temper. She schooled her face into a serious look, and gravely took the vibro-knife.
"Thank you. I'll use it, and think of you."
Owen's face grew greener.
"If you're feeling charitable, it's best to get it over quickly," Madame Rijdan said, in a helpful spirit. "Just plunge it in, just there, that's the liver; and twist it."
Beru advanced upon Owen with a business-like look on her face. She touched his side with the point of the knife. "There?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.
"A little higher, and to the right. Yes! Right there."
"Alright." She met Owen's eyes. After his first flinch, he didn't react, he just stared at her. He made no attempt to defend himself. And he'd be just like that in the duel, she thought. That's why I don't want him to fight Ben. Owen could never hurt his brother, but I'm not entirely sure Ben wouldn't hurt him.
She looked at Owen for a long minute; then Madame Rijdan said, prompting her: "It's cruel to prolong it, honey."
"Well, he insulted me, and I'm angry about it, but if I kill him, I'm a widow, right?"
"Don't you worry, honey, the Captain is the biggest matchmaker in this system! He'll have every handsome young man on Bakanir lining up to marry you."
Oddly enough, Beru did not find this vision particularly alluring.
"Luke will miss his father," she said, almost pleading.
"Nonsense! He's far too young! We'll find him a nice stepfather, you watch."
The corner of Owen's mouth starting twitching. Beru glared at him.
"Honey, your honor's at stake here," Madame Rijdan said reprovingly. "You've got to have a better reason than that to spare his life."
Beru stepped back and whispered something in Madame Rijdan's ear. That lady gave a sudden crack of laughter.
"Well, if you say so, honey," she said, chuckling, "If that's the case, I wouldn't kill him, either." She retrieved her knife from Beru, patted Luke's head, and gave Owen a slow and appraising look, which seemed to surprise him. "You never can tell from appearances, can you?" she muttered to no one in particular, as she headed to the door.
Owen and Beru watched her go. Owen sighed and said, "Well, what lie did you tell about me this time? Or should I be able to guess?"
Beru grinned suddenly. "It wasn't exactly a lie. I just said that you were extremely long in the--"
"Never mind!"
"----tooth," Beru finished innocently.
"Oh, Hoth," Owen said. "Before I got involved with you, I used to have a good reputation. Now I've been accused of seducing innocent maidens," he gave Beru an ironic look, "siring illegitimate children on them," here he looked at Luke, who had found the candy Madame Rijdan had left for him, and was happily stuffing his mouth with it, "abandoning no-longer-so-innocent maiden plus child, being forced to marry her, attacking my brother, trying to kill myself, refusing a duel after I said I would fight it, and now----now! having such a very long--."
"Tooth," Beru said, trying to keep a straight face.
"--tooth, that even a Bakaniri woman agreed that honor wasn't as important!"
He began slowly beating his head against the wall. Luke watched him and laughed delightedly.
Beru went to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Owen."
"Yeah?"
"Stop that," she said. "Please."
"I've stopped."
"Does it seem to you that we're going around in circles?"
"Oh, definitely," Owen said.
"There's a way to stop it."
Owen sighed. "I don't really want to know about that, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."
"Too true. I want you to stop suppressing your feelings so that I can't read them. Permanently."
Owen was silent a moment. "You don't ask for much, do you, Beru?" he asked, almost in despair.
Sarcasm, Beru thought. To a man as proud and reserved as Owen, to require such a thing of him was tantamount to asking him to strip off his clothes in public. He won't do it, she thought. She didn't know if she were disappointed or relieved.
"I'll do it," Owen said, "on one condition."
Well, when had Owen not surprised her? And I'll bet this one condition is a doozy, Beru thought. "Which is?" she said.
"I want something from you in exchange," Owen said steadily.
Beru nodded. She didn't want to ask what. She had a feeling that she didn't want to hear the answer any more than Owen had.
"You tell me you love me," Owen said.
Oh, yes, absolutely! A public striptease from Owen would be much more likely, Beru thought. She suddenly realized that she had constantly blamed the failure of their relationship on Owen; Owen's shyness, Owen's suppression, Owen's cultural conditioning. And what about her own? Despite his inbred inhibitions, he had managed to tell her how he felt. She had never returned the favor. She remembered her behavior in the med-center on Vaduz. It's a damned wonder to me he's still interested, she thought ruefully. He's a lot braver than I am. And bolder. I never told Ben how I felt, and I won't tell Owen, either. That's my revenge on him.
"Don't hurry or anything," Owen said.
Beru recognized an attempt by Owen to gather the tattered shreds of his pride around him. She noticed suddenly that he had already kept his side of the bargain; he was not suppressing. And she could sense that he was preparing, slowly and painfully, for yet another rebuff. I'm hurting him and he doesn't deserve it, even if he is a jerk sometimes. Like I'm not. So why can't I say it? Make him happy? The insidious voice in her head whispered, because if you tell him that you love him, the last of your control over him goes. The level playing field at last. The thought alone terrified her. But if he can do it, sister, so can you. Buck up and show some backbone for once.
She looked at him and saw that he was looking back at her. The last of her anger at him melted. She put her arms around him and hugged him.
"I love you," she said.
(To be continued....)