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Bayani Part 9
They smelled the burning before they saw the smoke. In the ash was the sweet scent of cooked meat, and a blacker undertone of charred flesh. “No,” Bayani whispered. “No.” Alejandro gripped his shoulder. “Steady, boy.” “Maestro, we must…” He swallowed. “We must find out what happened.” Alejandro nodded, the ghost of a smile playing…
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Bayani Part 8
The Maestro led the way, and Bayani followed. The conquistadores, mounted on their horses, tried to keep up. But the jungle was a poor environment for horses, and the Hesperians had to lead their mounts through the trees on foot. Alejandro retraced his footsteps, stopping occasionally to look for sign. Bayani was nervous; as night…
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Bayani Part 7
The men traveled all night and most of the day, resting only during sun-scorched afternoons. Not so long ago, Bayani would have complained about the schedule, the pace, the long hours. But each time he was tempted to open his mouth, he thought of mud-covered Inrun snaking their way through the swamps and the jungle,…
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Bayani Part 6
There was no homecoming ceremony for them. There was no time. Alejandro spared a moment to check in on the wounded men, but no more. Bayani caught Perla’s eye as the Maestro made his rounds. He met her wave with one of his own, but that was all. He was a man on a mission,…
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Bayani Part 5
None of his tribesmen were killed. But four were wounded, one severely so. That one had taken a deep slash across the leg, through skin and fat and muscle, exposing white bone. Two of the less-wounded were binding his wound with a white herb-impregnated cloth, rapidly soaked through with blood. Alejandro knelt next to the…
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Bayani Part 4
Searching was just a different kind of hunting, Bayani thought. The Maestro insisted that every man be armed. Bayani turned out in his hunting gear: bow in hand, quiver of arrows, baraw tucked into his loincloth, ginunting at his hip. Alejandro carried his bolo in place of a ginunting. The bolo’s short, heavy blade was…