"Sit down, sit down," King Frane urged them as he took a seat at the head of the long table. "No, Taroon. Let the Jedi sit next to me."

A tall, light-blue Rutanian with coiled braids arranged in loops around his head stepped back and glowered at the Jedi.

"My son, Prince Taroon," King Frane said. Qui-Gon turned to greet him, but King Frane waved his hand, and Taroon took a place at the other side of his father. "Let's talk about Leed. That's the reason you're here, eh?"

Qui-Gon sat as a server placed a heaping plate of meat in front of him. He nodded his thanks.

"Prince Leed has decided to stay on Senali —" he began.

"Decided!" King Frane interrupted with a roar. He pounded the table. "So that lying dinko Meenon tells me! My son has been kidnapped!"

"But you yourself saw the holocom," Qui-Gon pointed out. "I have seen it, too. Prince Leed seems sincere."

"He has been coerced, or threatened," King Frane insisted, forking up a huge piece of meat. He shook his fork at Qui-Gon. "Or they gave him one of their potions. They are primitives. They can use herbs and plants to cloud the mind. Leed would never decide to stay. Never!"

Suddenly, even as he stared fiercely at Qui-Gon, Frane's large green eyes filled with tears. He picked up his napkin and began to mop his streaming eyes. "My oldest child. My treasure. Why won't he face me?" He blew his nose in his napkin and brooded. When he next looked at the Jedi, his face wore a mask of anger. "It is the dirty Senalis who made him do this!" he bellowed. "Why will he not come and face me?"

Perhaps because he is afraid of you, Qui-Gon thought. But he could not say it aloud. The king's changes of mood were startling, but they seemed sincere.

"What am Ito do, Jedi?" King Frane forked the meat again and chewed vigorously. "Declare war?"