Thanks for all the reviews. Now let's eavesdrop on a witch trial, Zembuhl-style.
A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge
Chapter Sixteen
Inside the Lucky Red Bone Pub, anxious citizens were shoving tables and chairs into optimum viewing positions. All movement ceased, however, as Hiley ushered the suspected sorcerers into the room. Luke could feel Mara stiffen beside him as the animosity in the air threatened to overwhelm their senses. Resolutely ignoring the pointed glares and whispered accusations, the pair sat at the small table shown to them.
"Hiley, what's to happen next?" Luke asked.
"The village council will decide what to do 'bout the two of ye," the toolcrafter replied.
Mara narrowed her eyes questioningly. "Do about us?"
"Aye," Hiley acknowledged. "Folks fear ye might cast a spell on 'em, like ye did Thal."
"You know we would never hurt anyone." Luke looked his friend in the eye. "Don't you?"
The older man gave a half-smile. "I believe ye, lad. But the way ye leaped up onto the rafters back at the Hall, then floated back down with the young'uns ..." Hiley shook his head. "That just ain't natural."
Luke sighed. No, it wasn't natural. He wondered how he and Mara were going to explain themselves without frightening these good people any more than they already were.
"Hiley," Mara spoke up. "Has there never before been anyone who has displayed unexplained powers?"
At Luke's raised eyebrow, Mara added silently to him, (Beings with a talent for the Force have been known to pop up throughout the galaxy. Why not here?)
Luke nodded, and turned to hear Hiley's reply.
The wiry man rubbed his chin in thought. "Me granddad told tales of a witch in the village o' Rispfel, when I was just a lad. They say she could turn folks into addy-goats."
Mara had to fight the impulse to roll her eyes. "What happened to her?"
"Why, they hanged her, o' course."
"How reassuring," the redhead replied, slumping back in her chair. While she had no fear of her or Luke being hanged, or any similar sentence, she hoped they wouldn't have to fight their way to freedom.
Luke watched as the owner of the pub took a seat at the front of the room.
"Who's on the village council?" the Jedi asked the metalcrafter.
"Efam there, and the vicar." Hiley gestured as the clergyman sat down next to the pub owner. "And Healer Jobilis. He's still tendin' to folks at the Fellowship Hall, I 'spect."
"I didn't sense ... didn't notice that anyone was injured," Luke said, concern filling him that he had overlooked wounded villagers.
"Just a smatterin' o' light burns on folks when they was puttin' out the fire," Hiley replied. "Nothin' that a bit o' liniment won't heal up right quick."
It was only moments later that Sila Jobilis, Zembuhl's medical figure, strode into the pub. The silver-haired man gave an ambiguous nod to Luke and Mara before taking his own seat.
"He looks familiar," Mara commented, trying to remember where she'd met the last council member.
"I believe you were dancing with him last night," Luke reminded her.
"I hope that works in my favor," she quipped back.
"It would for me." Luke gave her a wistful smile. "You didn't step on his toes, did you?"
Mara favored her husband with a smirk. "I never step on anyone's toes. Except, of course, for farmboys who can't keep them out of the way."
"I'm doing better," Luke protested. "I think they're getting ready to start." He nodded toward the front of the room.
After a brief consultation with his associates, Efam stood and rapped his wooden cudgel on the table, effectively calling the meeting to order. Luke had already established in his mind that the robust business owner was as close to a prefect as Zembuhl had.
"Now then," Efam began. "First we want to be hearin' from Alfa Jueldent and Theda Nondes. Ladies, tell us what ye saw when ye entered the school."
Theda Nondes, a short dour-faced woman, rose from her seat near the front. She glared menacingly at Mara before speaking.
"Alfa and me, we went over to the school buildin', to see how the girl was doin' with our children. I told folks we shouldn't be leavin' the young'uns with this stranger fer a second mornin', 'specially after all them gold petals showed up last night, but some bodies," Theda gave a condescending look over her shoulder at Merta, "think they know better than me. As soon as we went up the steps, I knew somethin' was wrong. All I could hear was Thal Ulhas, hollerin' at the top o' his lungs."
Theda paused in her oration, and Mara swore the woman was savoring every drop of rapt attention she was receiving.
"And then I caught sight o' poor Thal, flapping his arms and legs like a bird caught in a fence. Only there weren't no fence – he was danglin' in the air with nothin' but empty space 'neath him. And she ..." Theda pointed one stubby finger directly at Mara. "She was holdin' him there with her dark magic, pointin' at the boy just like I be pointin' at her right now."
A low murmur echoed through the crowd, and the newlyweds had no trouble detecting the sense of consternation in the room.
"She be a witch, and she put a hex on the boy, sure as I be standin' here," Theda continued, the loathing she felt for Mara evident in her biting voice. "It made me blood run cold, it did, seein' what she was doin'."
At Theda's last words, an uproar of condemnation of the newcomers erupted from the villagers.
"They be possessed!" a thickly accented voice proclaimed from the rear of the room.
"Aye, just like Odus Pruden said," added another villager.
Supportive mutterings rose again, lessened only by the insistent banging of Efam's club.
Mara scrutinized the assemblage. "Speaking of Pru—"
"There were two of them outside the school building," Luke cut her off. "I haven't seen any of them since."
"I'm surprised they're not here, readying the nooses."
"Don't go looking for more trouble. We have plenty already." The Jedi directed his attention back to the front of the room, where Efam was attempting to restore a semblance of order.
"We only want to hear what ye saw, Theda, not what ye are supposin'."
"Humph." The pudgy woman planted her fists on her hips. "I saw her callin' on the black arts, that be what I saw."
"What happened then?" asked Vicar Serole in an effort to keep the proceedings as orderly as possible. "Did the lad keep hangin' in the air?"
"She lowered him," Theda admitted. "After she saw she was caught red-handed."
"And the other children?" Healer Jobilis questioned. "Was anythin' happenin' to them?"
Theda shot Mara another bitter glare. "They were froze in place. She conjured up spells on them, too."
Mara sprang up in protest. "I did nothing of the sort. She's making things up."
Efam rapped his cudgel loudly at her outcry. "We'll be listenin' to yer side soon enough, Mara," he advised the new bride.
Mara reluctantly settled back into her seat, shaking off Luke's hand, which had been tugging on her elbow. "And she's calling me a witch," she mumbled under her breath. (Tell me why we're putting up with this ... this ... witch trial,) the former assassin sent silently to her husband. (And why are they only denouncing me? You were the one leaping all over Hall and using your lightsaber.)
(I'm sure my turn is coming,) Luke returned. (Mara, we can't just wave our hands, Force-whammy everyone, and sneak out of town.)
Mara hid her smirk behind one hand. (I don't know why not.) She watched as Efam next asked Alfa Jueldent for her version of that morning's events. A suspicious frown suddenly crossed Mara's face. (You did get the stabilizer rod, didn't you? You aren't going along with this farce 'cause we're going to have to stay several more days, are you?)
(It's finished.) Luke tore his attention away from the proceedings long enough to give his wife a quick grin. (As I recall, it was your assignment to get a replacement for the rod.)
(I would have, if it wasn't that 'womenfolk' aren't supposed to be seen in a toolcrafting shop.)
(Good thing you've got me.) Luke stretched one arm out to lay casually across the back of Mara's chair, his fingertips tracing circles on her shoulder.
Mara tried to come up with some kind of witty retort, but the only thought swirling in her mind was that she was glad she had him. He was her rock, her anchor in the middle of a tempest, her oasis in the stifling heat of adversity. But that didn't mean she always agreed with his actions ...
Alfa Jueldent was a tall willowy woman in her early thirties, plain-looking and unmarried. As Efam called her to stand before the assembly, Alfa's nervous habit of biting her fingernails was temporary replaced by a compulsion to twist her pocket handkerchief into tiny tourniquets around her callused fingers. Her skittish eyes gave Mara a frightened glance before returning to focus on Theda Nondes, who was leaning forward in her seat, imparting uncompromising instructions to her submissive protégé.
Mara could feel Luke sending the timorous woman a soothing balm of reassurance that she need not fear his wife.
(Why are you doing that?) Mara bit out silently.
(She's nervous.)
(Good. Let her be nervous.) The former Emperor's Hand adopted the maligned expression that had once been her standard, broadcasting to everyone around her that Mara Jade was not someone to be trifled with. It was demeaning enough to be fingered by an old maid and an old biddy.
(Mara ...)
(I want her more frightened of me than of Theda. She's less likely to exaggerate that way.)
Luke fell silent, and Mara could feel him remove his influence from Alfa. Let him chew on that awhile, she thought. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide if her psychology sounded logical or not.
Regardless, Alfa seemed to pull herself together. Her thin lips barely moved as she gave a succinct and accurate testimony to what she'd witnessed, concluding with her mad dash to the Fellowship Hall for assistance.
"Did ye stay at the Hall then, or return to the school?" questioned Healer Jobilis.
"I went back to the school, and stayed with the children."
"So ye did'na see what took place at the Hall, then?" Efam glanced at Luke as he spoke.
Alfa shook her head. "Nay, I only heard tales o' the wondrous things that happened there."
"Wondrous?" Theda's voice reverberated with disapproval at her companion's choice of words. "More like dreadful." She spitted Luke with a withering glare that would have made anyone else's flesh creep. "That man scared the livin' daylights out o' those poor trapped children, not to mention frightenin' their parents out o' their wits. He be a demon, too, just like his wife."
"He saved the children!" Aerie spoke for the first time. "He saved me sister and the others. I'll not be listenin' to ye talk ill o' him or Mara."
Efam once more resorted to banging his club on the table to quiet the rising tide of opinions being shouted out.
"Did either of ye actually see what went on inside the Hall?" the pub owner impatiently addressed both Theda and Aerie. When both women admitted that they had not, he continued in his gruff voice. "Then I be askin' fer any person who did to step forward."
Only about a half dozen men and women stood, even though nearly everyone in the room had helped battle the fire. Those that remained sitting displayed an air of nervousness, evident by the furtive glances they stole at the Jedi.
The three members of the council surveyed those beings brave enough, or irate enough, to face the possibly vindictive wrath of two apparent sorcerers. They finally decided to call on Jaco Modesa and Predi Wiseus, the latter being the father of Tenna, one of the girls rescued by Luke.
"Jaco Modesa be a friend o' the witches," Theda objected immediately. "It would'na be fittin' to have him speak."
"And Predi Wiseus has been denouncin' Luke fer darin' to touch his precious daughter ever since her feet touched the ground," countered Aerie, her eyes blazing in reproach at Theda. "I don't hear ye carpin' 'bout his selection."
"Ladies, please!" This time it was Vicar Serole who called for order. "Since Jaco and Predi both be kin of the lasses rescued, they woulda been watchin' Luke's actions as close as any of ye. And I trust them both to give a fair report of what they seen."
"Hah!" Theda retorted. "This be no fair trial anyways. Efam there's been hobnobbin' with ... him ..." she waved an accusatory hand in Luke's direction, "since he set foot in Zembuhl. And no disrespect to ye, Vicar, but ye committed sacrilege fer sure, lettin' 'em in our place o' worship, and bondin' 'em there, to boot."
"Aye." A tall gangly man with a drooping black moustache added his assent. "I'd bet me last deka our crops this year won't even be worth keepin'. Marryin' a pair of sorcerers in the church can bring naught but a curse on us all."
Mara could feel Luke stiffen at the blame leveled at the town's venerable clergyman. (We'll get our chance to refute what they're saying,) she reminded him silently.
"It's not been decided that they are sorcerers," the vicar stated in his defense. "I'm askin' ye all to sit down, so's we can get on with the 'vestigation."
After the crowd quieted down once more, Jaco gave his testimony – simple, straightforward, and honest. Understandably he had no comprehension of how Luke accomplished the feats that he did. But the young shopkeeper let neither his friendship with Luke, nor his amazement of Luke's actions, influence his recitation.
Next to rise and speak was Predi Wiseus, a heavy-set farmer whose long bushy sideburns seemed to compensate for his receding hairline. Though his tone of voice left no doubt of his distrust of the newcomers, his description of the events at the fire closely paralleled Jaco's. Surprisingly, there were no interruptions by Theda or anyone else in the room during either of the accountings.
"Mara, we be ready to hear yer words now." Efam focused his attention on the young libelee.
The fiery-haired bride's head jerked up at her name, and she glanced back quickly at her husband. (I was hoping you'd go before me.)
(Ladies first.) Luke scooted his chair over to give her room to stand. (You'll do fine,) he added, smiling encouragingly.
"Thank you, Efam." Mara scanned the assemblage's mixture of expressions – some accusatory, some suspicious; a few fearful, a few supportive. All were expectant, eager to hear the defendant's explanation. "First, I want to apologize for the fright I've given everyone. I really have no plausible excuse for what I did, and I don't deny that I should have handled the situation differently."
Mara took a steadying breath before continuing, allowing herself to bask in Luke's supportive warmth. She noticed for the first time that none of the supposedly traumatized youngsters were present in the pub. "Please believe me when I say that I would never harm a child," she intoned. "I had no experience being around young children before coming here, and I found myself a bit ... overwhelmed ... by their exuberance. Which, trust me, is a hard thing for me to admit to." Mara ignored the grumbles of derision that she would dare ask for trust in any way, shape, or form. "So, when Thal and his friend continued to taunt Rasa, despite my admonitions, I lost my composure and reacted without thinking."
"Reacted how, Mara?" questioned Vicar Serole.
"I lifted him up in the air and ... and told him I was going to hold him there until he agreed to behave."
"Ye held him with yer hands?" Healer Jobilis asked.
"No, I didn't touch him."
Rumblings of denunciation quickly echoed through the room, but the medical practitioner held up a hand to forestall the comments. "And the rest o' the children?"
"I did nothing to them, I assure you, except perhaps startle them. I didn't sense that they were frightened of me."
"And what happened next, Mara?" the healer continued, his slate gray eyes studying Mara's profile with clinical objectivity.
"Madame Nondes and Mistress Jueldent appeared in the doorway and began screaming. I immediately lowered Thal to the ground. I backed away, and very shortly other villagers arrived."
"Ye offered no resistance to them?" Efam interjected.
"No."
"Mara ..." The vicar folded his hands together in a calming gesture. "Can ye tell us how ye were able to raise up Thal? Or at the Hall, how ye swept the snow onto the flames?"
Biting her bottom lip, Mara paused a moment in thought. "For that explanation, I will defer to my husband."
"Me?" Luke squeaked, sitting up suddenly. He stared wide-eyed at Mara as she settled next to him, motioning for him to keep his voice down. "I was going to follow your lead on explaining our powers," he whispered.
(You know this society believes the man is head of the family,) she sent, her smug tone evident even through her projected thoughts. (Besides, I figured you would welcome the chance to hone your negotiation skills before reaching Lorrd.) She nudged him out of his chair. (Now go negotiate our way out of a lynching.)
The council evidently had no objection to Luke's speaking on his wife's behalf, inviting him to take the floor.
"Luke," Efam began, "ye've heard the tellins' o' Jaco Modesa and Predi Wiseus o' what ye did at the Fellowship Hall. Do ye take issue with any part o' their tales?"
"No, sir. They gave accurate accounts."
"Have ye anythin' to add?"
Luke let himself relax, drawing on the tranquility he'd learned from Master Yoda's example. "I believed that I was best able to retrieve the children from the rafters. If a similar situation arose again, I would not hesitate to act in the same manner."
The council members nodded in understanding, impressed by the young man's forthright nature.
It was the vicar who voiced the inquiry that everyone in the room was awaiting an answer to. "Will ye now see fit to shed light on what manner o' magic the both of ye used to carry out these peculiar acts?"
Luke glanced briefly at Mara before turning his attention to their examiners. "We don't really use the word 'magic.' But yes, you do deserve an explanation." Luke drew a steadying breath. Contrary to what he'd just said to Mara, he'd been contemplating ever since leaving the Fellowship Hall of how much they'd now be compelled to reveal about the Force, and how much truth to impart about the galaxy in general.
"Where we come from," the Jedi finally began, "there are a few individuals, like Mara and me, who have ... powers ... that allow them to move objects with their minds."
"So there's more witches in yer Corey-sant?" a voice in the crowd called out.
"We are not witches," Mara bit out, rising to her feet in indignation before Luke laid a hand on her shoulder. She bristled at his reprimand, but sat back down in sullen silence.
"Mara and I are ..." Luke hesitated; he was a Jedi, but Mara ... "We are Force-users. The power we have is known as the Force. How this power works and why we are endowed with it would be hard to explain; I don't understand much of the concept myself. The only reason we came to your village was to seek help in repairing our craft, and we are very sorry for the confusion and panic that our special abilities have caused. We meant no harm to anyone, I assure you. We are grateful for the friendships we have forged here, and hope those friendships haven't been tarnished too badly now." Pausing in his oration, Luke let his gaze fall upon the faces of Jaco and Aerie, Merta, Hiley, and others. Their attentive expressions were guarded, with curiosity lighting their eyes instead of accusations of deception and betrayal. The Jedi Knight breathed a silent sigh of relief; his greatest dread had been that those he and Mara had befriended would now view them with fear and revulsion.
The Jedi sent a cautious glance at the village's clergyman before continuing. "Mara and I are grateful for the opportunity we were given to be married here in Zembuhl. I beg everyone not to ostracize your good vicar for bonding us yesterday. While we cannot predict the outcome of your crops this year, know that we would never do anything to bring disrespect to your church or your beliefs."
Luke turned his attention to the numerous men and women in the pub whose auras continued to emanate animosity and denunciation. These were the ones he needed to appease, he thought, though battling a lifetime of superstition could be beyond the capabilities of even a seasoned Jedi Master. "I know that some of you are frightened and feel that we should be punished. While we concede that we should in some way be held accountable for not disclosing our abilities, you should know that we will defend ourselves if necessary."
Efam nodded at Luke's proclamation, and conferred briefly with his companions. "Before we make a decision, we have a wee bit o' questions fer ye."
"Of course," Luke agreed.
"Have ye used yer ... special powers ... at any other time since ye came here?"
"No, sir," the younger man replied hastily. And just as hastily, he began filtering though his memories for exceptions to his answer. He compressed his lips worriedly as a repudiative shout came from the back of the room.
"He musta!" a grizzled villager decried. "Nobody coulda made o'er a hunnard bulls-eyes in a row without usin' magic." The man gestured at the board hanging nearby.
"I did not use any magic when throwing tackdarts," Luke returned. "I just have good aim."
"Then why could ye not hit a single animal when huntin'?"
"I ... well ... the truth is ..." As Luke hesitated, Mara's silent voice sent welcome counsel.
(Go on, tell them. You have nothing to be ashamed of.)
The Jedi favored his wife with a grateful smile, then turned to his accuser. "I didn't kill any animals because I didn't want to. I don't like harming any living creature, and I won't kill, unless it is absolutely necessary. I know you were hunting for food, not sport, but there seemed to be enough game being brought in that I didn't have to contribute."
"We canno' fault the lad fer bein' too soft," Hiley defended. "And I ne'er heard tell of a sorcerer that did'na delight in torturin' helpless animals."
Even Luke and Mara's most vocal indicters couldn't disagree with the toolcrafter's words.
"I did, though, use my powers a little the night of the tackdart contest." Luke's apologetic voice breached the crowd's murmurs, causing Mara frown at him sharply. "To make myself feel better after drinking too much ale."
An uproar of laughter ensued, which took as much pounding of Efam's makeshift gavel to quell as did the earlier outbursts of dissent.
Efam's wife, who had been silently watching the proceedings up to this point, stood slowly. "Luke has answered yer query, but we've not heard from Mara." Filia stared at the younger woman with a look of morbid curiosity. "Mara, have ye used yer magic before today?"
The new bride groaned inwardly; she'd been hoping everyone would be satisfied with Luke's story and not think to ask about her. "Yes, I did. Once." She felt Luke's eyes on her, but didn't acknowledge him. She had failed to mention this tidbit to him. "When I was ice-gliding with Aerie, she collided with a child. I held her up so she wouldn't fall."
"I did'na think ye ... oh ..." Aerie's voice trailed off as she recalled the sensation she'd felt that night, of being held by invisible arms.
"Ye used yer magic on me wife?" Jaco stood, protectively slipping an arm around his wife's slim shoulders.
"I didn't want her to be hurt," Mara said evenly, "especially in her condition."
Though the gaze of the former assassin appeared fixated on the Modesas, her thoughts were nearly a standard year in the past. She had been sent undercover to a seedy tapcafe on Rantal V, following the trail of a suspected Imperial traitor. Her prey had just risen from his collaborative meeting with a Rebel go-between when a commotion erupted between Mara's seat and the defector's escape route. Two drunken patrons had been harassing their waitress all evening, and had chosen that moment to push the poor girl in the Emperor's Hand's direction. Seeing the conspirator disappearing out the tavern's side door, Mara had reached out to shove the waitress out of her way, but halted as she caught sight of the girl clutching her stomach protectively. The wench was pregnant! Going against all the instincts ingrained in her, Mara paused to cushion the girl's fall with the Force, then whirled and cleanly disposed of the inebriated customers with her hold-out blaster. It had taken her an extra day to once more track down the traitorous officer, a lapse which allowed the man to divulge yet more Imperial secrets to the enemy. A lapse which the Emperor did not let go unpunished.
"Thank you," Jaco said softly, shaking Mara from her reverie.
Mara had regretted taking the precious moments to help the waitress that day. Now, she regretted every single day of her servitude to Palpatine. Watching Aerie and Jaco clutching each other, and feeling her own husband's hand squeezing her shoulder, Mara knew she would never regret even a moment of her future.
"Does anyone else have any questions fer the Skywalkers?" Efam inquired, looking out over the suprisingly subdued assembly. "If not, then I have one." The burly man pointed with his cudgel at the cylinder hanging openly from Luke's belt. "Jaco and Predi both described what ye did with that contraption. Can ye tell us what it be?"
The young Jedi fingered the cool metal of his lightsaber. Even this antiquated instrument would be impossible to explain in a technology-devoid society.
"It's a tool," Luke began guardedly, "for cutting. Like ..." Like what? A laser, a blowtorch, a Dithorian firebeam? These people wouldn't comprehend any of those comparisons. "It cuts through objects like a flame burns through wood. It ... uh ..."
(Stop while you're ahead, Farmboy) was Mara's silent advice. (Just tell them it's magic and be done with it.)
Luke grimaced over his shoulder at his wife. (You're a lot of help.)
"Can ye kindle it fer us?" Hiley asked. "I'd like to see it close up fer meself."
Reluctantly Luke detached his weapon and held it out in front of him. Mentally kicking himself for not keeping it hidden and thinking of a different way to disperse the smoke at the Hall, he thumbed the activation switch on. Gasps of astonishment filled the pub as the weapon's viridescent blade appeared in thin air, its steady hum reverberating lowly.
Hiley reached out cautiously toward the spellbinding light. "Be it hot?"
Luke jerked his outstretched arm back, simultaneously disengaging the dangerous shaft. "Yes!" he cried. "You can't touch it; it would burn your finger."
The toolcrafter laughed. "Lad, I been singed more times than ye can count."
"Sorry," Luke muttered, clipping the hilt back to his belt. "I guess I overreacted."
Efam stood and banged his club on the wooden table. "If no one has more to say, we'll be makin' our decision then." He gestured to his companions, and the trio adjourned to a rear room of the pub.
Luke slumped back into his seat, tuning out the mixture of conversations that soon filled the room. He closed his eyes wearily, but any hoped-for meditation proved elusive. Keeping his eyes shut, he smiled as he felt Mara's head nestle against his shoulder, her hand slipping comfortably into his.
(Luke, I'm sor—)
(Don't.) The tow-headed bridegroom shifted just enough to brush his bride's forehead with his lips. (Don't apologize, love. Our personalities, and our powers, define us. It's unreasonable for us to expect each other, or ourselves, to always act prudently. Force knows I make plenty of mistakes.) Opening his eyes, he raised Mara's chin with a finger. (Marrying you is not one of them.)
Mara raised one hand and stroked her life mate's cheek. (I love you, Luke,) she sent. (I love you with every breath I take.) As Luke lowered his head for a soft kiss, Mara drank in his masculine scent, now tinged with the smoky essence of the fire. They reluctantly pulled apart at the sound of a throat being cleared.
"The council be comin' back," Hiley announced without preamble.
The newlyweds straightened in their chairs, hands still clasped tightly, and awaited their decreed fate.
