The swim was just what Lok needed. Eeth challenged him to a race, and Lok gave it his all. He realised only that night that this had helped him lose much of the tension that had built up within him over the past weeks, and it also exhausted him to the point where he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The next morning, he woke feeling rested and far less volatile than before.
"Let us go to the garden and meditate there," said Eeth as Lok emerged from the shower. "We can discuss our plans with Kat and Takhya over breakfast."
"Alright," Lok agreed. He pulled on his boots and followed Eeth to the door but was brought short before he could leave their quarters because Eeth had stopped abruptly.
"Good morning," he heard Eeth say in a tone that was polite and questioning at the same time. Lok knew that Eeth would not have addressed Kat, Takhya, Zyle or A9 that way. He rose on tiptoes and peered over Eeth's shoulder. To his surprise, he saw Lok Takar who was accompanied by a boy around Lok's own age. The boy was clearly a Takar. Unlike Lok, he was already wearing tattoos and his hair was long and braided; if it had not been for these things, they two of them would have looked remarkably similar. Marak was considerably less tall than Lok, though; he was of average height at most, maybe even somewhat on the small side for a Zabrak.
"Good morning," said Lok Takar amiably. "Forgive the early intrusion. I just remembered the conversation I had with your padawan on the shuttle from the spaceport where he told me that he was undecided about going through the rites of passage and was hoping to learn more about Zabrak culture. Well, my youngest brother Marak here is going on a desert hunt today. It is an ancient Iridonian tradition that we have kept up. All young Zabrak members of the traditional clans who have undergone the rites within the last three years participate to measure their prowess at fighting against each other. Your padawan obviously has not undergone the rites yet but a large number of participants are his age or even younger and he would certainly be qualified. If he was interested, we would offer him the opportunity to take part."
"Come in," said Eeth, "so that we can discuss this with my padawan, who is standing behind me."
Lok made way for Eeth who stepped back inside, followed by Lok Takar and Marak.
"Hello," said Lok Takar, smiling at him. "I'm sorry for the suddenness of this proposal. I shouldn't have dumped it on you like this. It simply did not occur to me before picking up Marak this morning."
"Hi," said Marak, giving Lok a quick smile. Lok liked the look of him and he returned the smile. He could see that Eeth was not entirely at ease with the proposal, though, and he could hardly blame his master after all that had happened.
"I would need to know more about the desert hunt before I can give my consent," Eeth said.
"Sure," said Lok Takar. He glanced at his comlink. "We have half an hour before we have to leave."
"In that case," said Eeth, "we should have breakfast while continuing the conversation. Neither of us have eaten yet."
"Would you like some, too?" Lok asked the two politely.
Lok Takar declined but Marak said, "Sure do. I got up crazy early and I wasn't really hungry then."
Eeth went to organise breakfast while Lok invited the two visitors to sit down.
"So you live far from here?" he asked Marak.
Marak nodded. "Most of my siblings live in the city, either by themselves or with our father in the clan home," he said, "but I live with my mother, in a village about ninety minutes from here."
"We're half-brothers," Lok Takar explained. "His mother is a concubine."
Lok had learned already that the male clan members preferred to marry women who had a strong standing within the clan but the number of children resulting from this union tended to be small since these women were pursuing their own political careers. Therefore, siring children with concubines in order to ensure plentiful offspring was common and not frowned upon at all. Lok poured their guests some water, pondering how strange it was that Marak was his maternal half-uncle, not that he could divulge this information. By the time everyone had something to drink, Eeth returned with Kat and Takhya in tow, followed by A9 who was steering a huge hovertray with breakfast.
"Help yourself," Lok told Marak. The boy grinned in delight and started loading his plate with buns until Lok Takar cleared his throat and he slowed down a little.
"Eeth says you're going on a desert hunt," Takhya said, plopping down in a chair opposite Lok. "I wanna come, too."
"I did not say he was going," said Eeth. "I said he has been offered to come and I would consider it once I have learned more."
"And besides, you have not been invited," said Kat firmly, giving Takhya a reproving look.
"Yes, I am afraid she is too young," said Lok Takar apologetically.
"So he gets to go on a desert hunt while I have to tag along with you and visit merchants?" asked Takhya hotly.
Eeth shot Kat a look. She nodded, rose from her chair, grabbed Takhya by the ear and dragged her to Eeth's bedroom, ignoring the girl's furious protests. The door closed behind them and nothing more could be heard, probably because Kat had drawn on the Force to soundproof the room, but it did not take a genius to figure out that Takhya was in trouble. Lok winced. He could concede that Takhya was being a nuisance but that did not mean he couldn't sympathise.
"Can't she meet with Duraz?" Marak asked Lok Takar. "They should be about the same age."
"If her master allows it, why not?" said Lok Takar. He turned towards Eeth and explained, "Duraz is my oldest daughter. She is eleven. But if I want to explain things to you before we have to leave, we might want to focus on that for the moment."
"We might, yes," said Eeth. "For a start, what is it that the young Zabrak will be hunting?"
"On Iridonia, long ago, it used to be sand lions," said Lok. "There are no sand lions on Iroqa. We have a long history of experimenting with various replacements, but these days, it's droids specially built for the purpose. We call them lionoids. There is a dozen of them and they move within a designated area in the desert hills. The youths are equipped with bows and arrows and have to hit specific parts of the lionoid, marked in red, which will render the lionoid inactive. This is counted as a win and the winner will remove himself or herself from the game."
"Sounds pretty straightforward," said Lok, who was having a hard time getting over the fact that Eeth was even discussing this, rather than saying straight out "No." "I don't have much experience with bows and arrows but I did some training in the creche."
"Are they dangerous?" asked Eeth bluntly.
"No," said Lok Takar. "We try to simulate a real hunt for predators but without any mortal danger involved. If an arrow strikes the lionoid but misses the mark, the lionoid will become 'angry' and feel threatened, like any predator would, meaning that its speed and perception will increase. Generally, if it notices someone in its close vicinity, it will attack them. Its teeth and claws release green paint. As soon as a player has paint on their skin, they have lost and, again, will remove themselves from the game. Being 'bitten' or struck by a claw might cause a bruise but the lionoids are programmed not to do any harm. There have been no accidents in at least a hundred years."
"How many people are playing?" Lok asked, thinking that this sounded like a fun way to spend the day – unless all of this was another masked attempt to get rid of him, which was, he knew, what Eeth suspected and why he was so cautious.
"There are a dozen lionoids in the game and about thirty participants all in all," said Marak. "The game is over by nightfall or when all lionoids have been 'killed.' Anyone who manages to hit a target and avoid being killed is considered a winner. I sure hope I'll manage."
"Few people do on their first hunt," said Lok Takar, "but I'll be rooting for you."
"Will you watch?" asked Marak.
"Probably," said Lok Takar. "Since there are no negotiations today, I'll have time."
He turned to Eeth and explained, "The entire thing is filmed and members of the participating clans may watch. We could give you access if you like. There are also a dozen supervisors who make sure that there are no accidents and no foul play. It is really perfectly safe."
"I will have to talk to Kat," said Eeth. "We have some appointments today that we should not miss. At least one of us will have to go."
At this moment, the door to his bedroom opened and Kat and Takhya returned. Takhya had a scowl on her face and it was fairly clear from her stiff gait and her slightly red-rimmed eyes that whatever had gone on between the two of them had not been pleasant. Lok wondered if she had gotten into an argument with Kat because her initial bout of temper, while slightly annoying had not really been bad enough to warrant a spanking, in his opinion. But he was hardly going to ask her about it in front of an audience. Anyway, she held her head high and made a valiant effort to pretend that nothing had happened.
Five minutes later, everything had been settled. Lok would go on the hunt and Eeth would join Lok Takar in his home where the two would watch it. Takhya would come along and spend the day with Duraz. In the meantime, Kat would take care of their appointments.
"Thank you," Lok told her. "We owe you for that."
"Nonsense," said Takhya. "It's simply what's best for our mission. But I do hope you have fun."
"Before we leave," said Eeth, "I need a word with you, padawan."
Lok, being entirely unsurprised, followed him into his bedroom.
"You don't need to warn me, master," he said solemnly before Eeth could even start speaking. "I'll be careful. I haven't forgotten about the warnings we received and the attempt to knock me out. And honestly, if you hadn't allowed me to go, I wouldn't blame you at all."
Eeth nodded. "I am glad you are being so mature about this," he said. "Not giving you permission to go would have been the obviously sensible course of action. However, it would have made us look weak and possibly even insincere in front of our hosts. Moreover, I am fairly certain that whatever Triz … your mother is playing at, Lok Takar is not involved in it. The proposal to take you to the games came from him. I am certain that it was genuine, and I do not sense any danger in it. And I think you are competent to handle a fair amount of risk by now. Besides, I do take your desire to learn more about Zabrak culture seriously. Just be careful. No foolhardy stunts to prove yourself. Lok Takar said that few youngsters manage to win on their first attempt. Given your Jedi training, you might have the ability, and I will not blame you for trying to win, but if you have a choice between taking an unacceptable risk and losing, then lose. And be on your guard. If you sense anything off, even the slightest attempt at manipulation, alert me through our bond immediately. Understood?"
Lok nodded, trying hard not to let on how elated he was feeling at the praise he knew he had just received. "Yes, master," he said. "I will. Promise."
"Good," said Eeth, giving him a small smile. "Then I, too, hope that you will have… fun."
"Here we are," said Lok Takar, landing the speeder beside a red-and-black Iroqan flag close to a rocky mountain slope that led up to a plateau.
"You sure this is the place?" Marak asked, looking around while he disposed of the bottle of sunblock that he and Lok had shared amongst themselves.
"Of course I am," said Lok Takar. "See the red cord over there? It marks the path up to the top. The hunt starts on the plateau. This is the Takar meeting point. The one for the Kaaths is on the other side."
Now that he said it, Lok noticed two light-skinned Zabrak girls who were making their way up to the top following the red cord. Another speeder, probably holding more Takars, was coming up from behind them.
"Alright then, let's go," he said, feeling a surge of excitement rush up in him.
"One moment," said Lok Takar as Lok made to open the speeder door. "Do you have any tools, weapons or technology with you? If so, better leave them with your master. You're not allowed to bring anything but your clothes. Everyone will receive weapons and basic equipment at the meeting point."
"Oh, okay," said Lok. He hesitated for a moment, but what choice did he have? Thus, he unclipped his saber from his belt and handed it to Eeth, followed by his utility kit and his comlink. Eeth clipped the saber to his own belt and pocketed the rest.
"I will see you tonight, padawan," he said.
"Tonight," Lok said, giving him a brief smile.
"Yeah, see you all," said Marak. "C'mon, Lok!" He flung open the door and the two teenagers jumped out and raced each other to the beginning of the path. Lok had not been this boisterous in a long time, and it felt good, especially after all the tension of the trip, with Zyle Xatrax's constant presence, and the tediousness of their stay on Iroqa so far.
Once they had reached the path, they were forced to slow down. Lok turned briefly and saw that the speeder was already a speck in the distance. The speeder that had been behind them had just landed and four youngsters who looked to be older than him and Marak, probably around seventeen, got out. Lok quickly turned his back on them and continued following Marak up the steep, rocky path. The climb was a challenge, given the desert heat. It was no more than Lok could manage, but he was quite impressed with how well Marak was doing. The young Zabrak from the elite families obviously received rigorous physical training, in addition to extensive schooling in languages, politics, economics, history and so forth. Lok knew that this was the reason many Takars and Kaaths gave for their reluctance to give up their right to rule the planet: Weren't they much better suited to ruling than anyone else, given the fact that they were prepared for it throughout all their lives? It was a matter of pride to them and they seemed to take it rather seriously.
Both Lok and Marak were rather out of breath by the time they reached the plateau, which was mainly due to an unspoken agreement to stay ahead of the four older Zabrak behind them. But then, those seemed pretty relaxed about the whole thing. Maybe it was their third time already, thought Lok.
They were met by three elderly women who were waiting for newcomers. One of them beckoned Lok over, registered him on a hand-held device and scanned him for illicit equipment. Then she tied a tracker to his upper arm. Next, she gave him an earpiece, a full waterskin that could be tied to his belt, and a bow with a quiver full of arrows.
"Follow the path to the centre of the plateau," she told him, pointing to a gap between two large rocks. "You will find the game masters waiting for you. Carry your earpiece at all times. The game masters will contact you when you are asked to leave the game. Two important rules: First, do not leave the plateau. It is cordoned off, and anyone who moves past the cordon automatically loses. Second, after you pass those rocks, no more talking. Anyone who talks to other players or even as much as cries out will be disqualified. Any questions?"
Lok shook his head mutely. He could feel his excitement rising.
"Then off you go," she said.
As Lok walked towards the rocks, he was joined by Marak who was similarly equipped as him. "The 'no talking' rule is new," he said in a low voice. "Maybe it's because people were teaming up too much, helping each other win and setting up others to fail. That's probably what made them come up with this rule. There might be other changes, too. They introduce some new rules and changes every year, to make things less predictable, I guess."
They had reached the rocks now and paused for a second.
"Well, good luck," said Lok quietly, willing himself to sound calm despite the fact that he could practically hear his nerves twanging.
"You too," said Marak, giving him a brief and tense grin. Then they stopped talking and passed the rocks.
It was only a short way to the centre of the plateau but they could not see their destination until they rounded the last bend in the path. When they did, Marak let out an involuntary gasp. And while Lok had more self-control than that, he could fully understand him because right in the middle of the plateau was a lionoid and it was gigantic; much bigger than those on the pictures that Marak had shown him on the trip here. This lionoid was towering over everyone, even though it was crouching on its hindlegs, and it looked absolutely ferocious.
Lok made to speak but stopped himself. He gave Marak a questioning look. Marak shook his head, his eyes wide. Apparently, then, this was another innovation.
The game masters, six strong and stern-looking Zabrak men, positioned the new arrivals so that the participants were forming a circle around the droid. Lok stood where bade, nearly opposite Marak who had been led to the other half of the circle, and waited in tense silence, as did everyone else. He could see that even the older participants were not used to facing off against a gigantic lionoid right from the outset; they looked unsettled. The untattooed teenager, dressed in a tunic and pants instead of warrior garb, drew quite a few curious glances but Lok could sense no hostility from anyone. Most of them seemed to be more concerned with the lionoid. On his right was one of the older Takar participants, a boy with long braids; on his left, he saw a slender black-skinned Kaath girl who, to his surprise, gave him a quick smile that showed her dimples. Without thinking, he returned it before hastily refocusing his attention on the lionoid, as he was probably meant to. But he was acutely aware of the girl's presence next to him.
It took ten more minutes for everyone to have emerged onto the plateau and taken up their station. As soon as they had, one of the game masters stepped into the middle of the circle and climbed on the lionoid's back so that everyone could see him.
"As you can see," he said, "we have made some changes to the rules. In recent years, there have been concerns that the contest had become too much of a team event, with clans making sure that each of their members wins at least once during their active career. There was a strong wish on the part of both clans to introduce rules that move the focus back towards individual prowess. This is the reason why you are not allowed to speak to each other, but that alone would probably not suffice to prevent group action and pre-planned strategies. This lionoid, hopefully, will. It is no more dangerous than the others, but it is faster and more perceptive, and due to its height, it can overlook much of the plateau. Ten seconds after the game has started, it will be activated and it will immediately seek out prey and attack. Unlike conventional lionoids, it has been programmed to look for groups, and it can draw on the data from your trackers to do so. If it has the choice between individuals and a group of two or more participants, it will attack the group. If there is more than one group, it will attack the largest. Only if it cannot spot groups will it attack individuals, much like the other lionoids. And I have to warn you: it is fairly difficult to kill. But not impossible. If it is brought down, another lionoid will take over the function of hunting for groups. Thus, you had better split up right from the start. Even if you decide to reconvene later in the game, this will greatly increase your risk of being singled out for attack."
Lok could see that this declaration was extremely unwelcome to some of the participants, especially the older ones. It obviously ran counter to their experience and pre-planned strategies, and they had no chance to rethink their plans either because the game master now had raised a gong and said, "On my count. Three – two – one – go!"
The gong rang, and Lok was off in a flash. He had decided against using Force-enhanced speed; this would have seemed like too much of an unfair advantage. He was confident that he was still fast enough to outrun, maybe not the lionoid, but at least some of the other participants. And it worked; when the lionoid was activated and took off, it was not Lok whom it was pursuing. That was because, as Lok's sense of the Force told him a moment later, the lionoid was after the Kaath girl who had smiled at him.
Lok had no idea why he reacted the way he did, nor did he even have time to think about it. The sensible thing would have been to take cover, let the girl succeed or fail in dealing with the lionoid, keep out of sight and take his time finding an unsuspecting target. But that was not what his instincts made him do. Instead, he swung around, realised instantly that the lionoid was not exposing any red area that he could hit from this angle, pulled out an arrow nonetheless, and shot to hit the lionoid on its flank. It had been about to pounce on the girl but as Lok's shot hit it it veered sidewards ever so slightly without losing a beat and crouched to jump at Lok instead. This exposed the red dots that marked the eyes, and Lok instantly took advantage of this to take aim and shoot. But in the second this had taken him, the lionoid had already jumped. The arrow missed its mark, and Lok could only save himself by using a move that Eeth had recently taught him: instead of vaulting backwards or sidewards, he dove towards his attacker and took a rolling fall that had him tumble under its belly and land behind it, which momentarily disoriented it. You took too long taking aim, Lok scolded himself, Eeth's disapproving face flashing up before his eyes; in fact, he thought he could sense a slight hint of a rebuke through the bond he shared with Eeth. Without dwelling on this thought, he pulled out another arrow, closed his eyes, breathed in and out, focusing on his sense of the Force, and once the lionoid had turned, he let fly.
The lionoid let out a strange, hooting sound and collapsed.
"Congratulations, Padawan Lok Dar," said a game master's voice in his ear. "You have made a kill and may count yourself among this year's winners of the game. Please remove yourself from the game and find the waiting area. I will give you directions."
Lok opened his eyes and looked around for the girl, but she had already disappeared from view.
He was directed through his earpiece to a place at the edge of the plateau where a game maker waited for him in front of the cordon that circled the game area.
"Congratulations," said the man. "That was a bold move and a valiant fight." He opened the cordon and pointed outwards beyond the cliff edge. For a moment, Lok felt that the man was mad – or possibly dangerous. Did he want him to jump from the cliff? Only when he had taken a hesitant step forward did he see that stairs were hewn into the rock, leading downwards, towards something that looked like a large tent.
"The waiting area is in the tent," said the game maker. "Winners as well as losers will wait there until nightfall. You will be offered shade, refreshments and an opportunity to watch the remainder of the game. Trophies will be handed out once the game has been completed."
As he made his way down the steps, Lok did not know if he was supposed to feel elated or betrayed. After all, his entire experience in this game could not have lasted more than a minute. When he entered the tent, though, there was no doubt as to what the others thought of his performance. There were loud cheers and whistles from the dozen or so young men and women who were tasked with overseeing the tent. As was the case with the game masters, half of them were Kaath and half of them Takar, and they kept carefully apart while simultaneously working with each other. It was quite a feat, Lok mused as he accepted a drink, wiped the sweat and dust from his face with a wet towel and returned his bow and quiver.
"I think that was the fastest kill anyone has ever made," said a Kaath girl in reverence.
"For as long as you and I remember, anyway," said a boy who looked as if he might be her brother. "Which is not very long. Anyway, they changed the rules. Without the change, it might have taken him half a day to even find a lionoid. Still, that was pretty cool. Was that a Jedi thing you did?"
"Well," said Lok, "it was my Jedi training that allowed me to do it, but most of it was not done by drawing on any specific Jedi abilities. The killing shot itself, though – yeah. I relied on the Force to hit the target. Don't go comparing me to any of your fighters. It wouldn't be fair."
"Maybe not," said a Takar boy, "but you still took quite a risk and it was rewarded. We all respect that."
"Would you like to watch the scene?" asked a Takar girl. "I'm not sure you even know how narrowly you avoided being caught by its hind paw."
She led Lok to a set of monitors that allowed users to replay scenes or focus on individual participants and fiddled with the controls to call up a replay of his killing shot. Lok winced as he saw how right she was: It had been a very, very narrow miss. If he had been just a split second too fast or slow, one of the lionoids paws would have caught him, and while that would hopefully not have been fatal, it might have turned out to be very painful. He had the nagging feeling that Eeth might have something to say about it. But right now, their bond was silent, and thus he sat down in a folding chair among the others and they watched the large screen that gave an overview of events on the plateau, occasionally honing in on participants who came into contact with lionoids. They could see that, as the game master had said, one of the smaller lionoids had taken over the task of hunting for groups, which brought a lot of unrest into the game.
"I can't remember feeling hunted down to this extent during my own games," said the Kaath girl who had sat down near Lok. "I can see why they did it but, by Kan-Kaath, does it feel tense! Oh, look. The lionoid's after the Takar gang. Looks like they couldn't resist teaming up again, and that might have been a big mistake."
It was difficult to tell from the image on the screen but Lok thought the group they were shown consisted of three out of the four teenagers who had followed him and Marak up the mountain path. The lionoid made short work of two of them, which gave the third an opportunity to shoot it.
"I can see people strategising to exploit this in the future," said a Kaath boy.
"Yeah, but this time it backfired," said a Takar girl. "Eeth gained his second win and Maakh missed hers, which is no big deal either way, but I'm pretty sure they actually had planned for Zork to win. It's his last time and he has never won. And now he never will."
"But isn't that kind of the point of the game?" asked Lok, who had by now gotten over the impulse to flinch every time anyone used his master's name. People were just not very creative with first names here.
"Yeah, and it might even work to give it more meaning," acknowledged the girl. "But it's just not what everyone was expecting."
Lok wondered whether the failure of the older participants' schemes would give Marak a better chance at winning… and the Kaath girl? He tried to push away that thought but it was stubborn. . He was also starting to wonder why Lok Takar had not told him what seemed to be common knowledge: that the games in previous years had been mostly won by the older participants who had ganged up on the younger ones. He had made them seem so fair and valiant! Then again, Lok mused, they had changed the rules. Maybe Lok Takar had known? Lok vowed to ask him later.
For a while, nothing much happened, except for the arrival of three fairly subdued Takar participants, two of them with large green stains on their clothing or skin. One of them had been caught squarely in the chest and it seemed to hurt quite a bit. The supervisors called for a healer who arrived within minutes.
To pass the time, Lok chatted with the Kaath and Takar youths, who continued to keep well apart from each other but were all willing to talk to him, and with him as a mediator, the conversation flowed freely. He learned that the young Zabrak helping out in the tent were the winners of the previous two years who were too old to participate this time. They were curious about his lack of tattoos and he was honest about his reasons, whereupon he was treated to a half-hour discussion of the many benefits of the rites of passage. Just as he was growing tired of it, a Kaath girl called Triz pointed at the screen and said, "Oh, look, it's Lok the bully! Let's see how he does without his cronies."
This time, Lok did flinch as he heard his name said. He waited until the scene was over before asking the question that was on his mind, though. Much to the girl's glee, it ended with the other Lok's defeat.
"How do you all keep each other apart?" he asked. "With all the Kols and Loks and Zurs and Trizs and Eeths and Karthas and whatnot? I mean, there's not just two of them, there seem to be dozens, even within one clan."
"We do it the way I just did," said Triz. "When it's not clear whom I mean, I use a nickname. His is 'Lok the bully' and let me tell you, it's well deserved."
"Oh," said Lok. "But let's assume he grows up to be a decent person? I mean, it could happen. Will he be stuck with this nickname for all his life?"
"Oh, no," said a Takar girl called Raqqa. "Nicknames change. People might get a nickname that's based on their profession, for example, or their partner or their children. The more important a person becomes, the less likely it is that people will keep using nicknames at all. If we talk of Triz T and Triz K, everyone knows we mean our supreme representatives, not their nieces or grandmothers or whatever."
"Alright, then what's my nickname?" asked Lok.
"You're Lok the Jedi, of course," said Raqqa. The others nodded in approval. And Lok felt a grin spreading across his face. For the first time during his stay on Iroqa, he had the feeling that, if he had led a different life and had had a different fate, he might have belonged here. But then, he reminded himself, his biological mother had done everything in her power to make sure that this would never happen.
As the morning progressed, Lok was wondering what had happened to Marak who was nowhere to be seen on the big screen. A few players were bitten or hit but nobody else managed a winning shot for a while. Only around lunchtime, when bowls of cold meat soup were handed out, they suddenly got to see the Kaath girl whom Lok had saved become the third winner. It happened right at the centre of the plateau where Lok had "killed" the gigantic lionoid that was still lying there, motionless. As a regular lionoid entered the area, searching for prey, the girl suddenly emerged from below the front leg of the gigantic lionoid and fired a shot that hit its mark so fast that it was hard to understand what had happened for a second or two. Then the Kaath started cheering like mad: after all, the girl was the first Kaath winner of the day, out of a surprisingly meagre number of three winners so far.
"I knew Kartha would make it," said Triz Kaath in excitement. "She's among the youngest participants but she's a superb shot and she's got nerves of steel." The other Kaaths nodded in agreement.
It did not take Kartha long to arrive in the tent. She accepted her relatives' congratulations with a smile that showed her brilliant white teeth, dropped her bow and quiver into an attendant's hands and walked over to where Lok was sitting.
"I owe you one," she said. "I would have been out in the first minute if it hadn't been for you."
Lok shrugged, feeling himself blush – and that was something he was not prone to at all. "You're welcome," he said. "It seemed like a silly way for you to lose the game… and a good way for me to win."
That made everyone laugh, including Kartha who thumped him on the back and plopped down into a foldable chair next to him. Lok felt as if a colony of ants had awoken in his stomach. And suddenly, he wasn't in such a hurry for Marak to win the game.