{"id":5642,"date":"2020-02-23T09:45:18","date_gmt":"2020-02-23T01:45:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=5642"},"modified":"2020-02-23T09:45:18","modified_gmt":"2020-02-23T01:45:18","slug":"bayani-part-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=5642","title":{"rendered":"Bayani Part 3"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"Archer,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Hunts lasted three days and three nights. As the newest warrior, Bayani had the honor and the burden of guiding the hunting party. The older ones followed him, judging his skills and dispensing advice. It was another trial, less formal but no less important.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Heading into\nthe jungle, Bayani\u2019s heart had swelled for all of a minute. But though he knew\nthe trees as intimately as he knew his baston<\/em>,\nfor the first time his decisions would decide the fate of his village. The\nweight of responsibility deflated him immediately, almost crushing him, but he\nsquared his shoulders and carried on. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Behind the hunters were the gatherers. These were the\nhealers, the makers, the ones who took from the jungle and produced tools,\nmedicine and trade goods. As the hours passed, Bayani realized he could not\njust look for animal sign. He had to look also for fruits and herbs, valuable\nwoods and fungi, and mark them for the gatherers. It was too late for him to\ndouble back, revisit the grounds he knew to grow the tastiest bananas or the\nhardiest palm. All he could do was press forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the first day they found nothing larger than\ninsects. Most were mosquitoes, swarming exposed flesh. But they had also encountered\ngrubs, larva and beetles. There was enough sustenance to continue the hunt,\nenough to power their muscles and keep them on their feet. Nowhere near enough\nto feed the children and their caretakers at home, much less conclude the hunt\nearly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The second day was barren. Bayani remembered that not\ntoo long ago, the jungle teemed with life. Rats and shrews and monkeys and\nbirds and bats, and a few times he had seen tigers and elephants. Where had\nthey gone? Or was he simply too inept, too unskilled, to read the signs they\nhad left? He didn\u2019t know, and didn\u2019t dare ask.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the afternoon, one of the hunters had spotted a\nflock of birds soaring through the trees. Drawing her bow, she loosed a volley\nof arrows into the air. But none struck home. For the rest of the day, they\nscoured the jungle floor for the arrows. Every arrow was a precious commodity;\nthey had to trade with the lowlanders and city-dwellers for wrought iron, and\nthe outsiders\u2019 prices were dear. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of her three arrows, the jungle had swallowed one, and\nthe hunter cursed her failings in unladylike speech. During the evening meal,\nthe gatherers shared their bounty: soursop and durians, mealworms and\ncaterpillars. They did not go hungry that night, but they had nothing to\nprovide for the village either. He wished the Maestro was here, but he was\nneeded elsewhere and Bayani knew he could not rely on him forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the third day, Bayani heard a high-pitched screech.\nMacaques. And where there were macaques, there was food fit for humans. Keeping\nhis eyes and ears open, he stalked towards the source of the call. Creeping\nthrough the trees, the calls grew louder, more varied. He craned his neck,\nlooking for the monkeys.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There<\/em>.\nA large colony of macaques traversed the branches and the jungle floor, sharing\nfood and grooming and chattering at the top of their lungs. Bayani\u2019s heart\nseized up, and slowly relaxed. Taking calming breaths, he issued hand signals\nto the hunters behind him, lining them up in a row. He nocked an arrow and\nwaited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One by one, the hunters mimicked the calls of local\nbirds, indicating they were ready. Drawing his bow, Bayani aimed at the closest\nmacaque. This was a fine specimen, a male perched on a thick tree branch. It\nwas an easy shot, not much further than the shots he took at the village. The\nmonkey turned its head to face him. He inhaled. Exhaled half his breath.\nUttered a bird cry. Loosed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani\u2019s arrow brushed past the macaque\u2019s shoulder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The macaque howled, swinging down and dropping to the\nground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

More arrows descended on the macaques. The survivors\nfled. Bayani hurriedly nocked another arrow and shot at a fleeing monkey. The missile\nslammed into a tree trunk. Uttering curses, Bayani reached for another arrow,\nloaded the bow, searched for more targets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Found none. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani massaged his bruised arm, flexing his fingers\nand unknotting the stiffness that had betrayed him. Drawing knives, the hunters\nmoved in to finish and dress their kills. Bayani paid the price of failure,\nstomping into the jungle alone to retrieve his arrows. By the time he returned,\nthe sun was setting and the gatherers had caught up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the light faded, the hunting party claimed the\nmacaques\u2019 sustenance as their own. But the monkeys had picked the area clean\nwell before the humans arrived. Bird nests were empty, their eggs cracked and\nconsumed. Of the few fruits remaining most were unripe or rotten. There were\nstill flowers and herbs, leaves and twigs, but the gatherers had warned the\nhunters from consuming them. Those plants were fit only for potions, poultices\nor poisons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That evening, they had meat. Not by choice. The\nhunters had secured enough meat to feed the village for a full day, maybe more.\nThe gatherers, however, had poor pickings: handfuls of insects, clumps of\nmushrooms, the odd fruit. Not enough to feed the party.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ligaya rationed the evening meal. Four-fifths of the\nday\u2019s bounty was for the village. Of the remainder, the largest portions went\nto the women and the apprentices, the rest to the ones who had provided for the\nvillage. Those who produced nothing received nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani stood the first watch that night. Perla found\nhim, a piece of breadfruit in one hand, a mouthful of cooked macaque in the\nother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou should have this,\u201d she said, handing it out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, you need it more than me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m full,\u201d she lied, her smile flashing in the\nmoonlight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His stomach gnawed at him. \u201cI\u2026I didn\u2019t earn that. I\nmissed my shots.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour arm?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani nodded. Perla took his wounded arm, massaging\nit gently, kneading precise spots. Pain spiked through him, immediately\nfollowed by bliss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBetter?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBetter. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be so harsh on yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t provide any food.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She laughed. \u201cMen. Always so self-centered. Bayani,\none in three hunts end in failure. On your first<\/em>\nhunt, you led us to the macaques. Now there\u2019s enough to feed everyone for a\nwhile. That, what you did for everyone<\/em>,\nis the important part. Now shush, and eat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She thrust the food at him. His mouth watered. He\nswallowed his saliva and his pride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They returned to the village the following day. Of the\nfive hunting parties the village had sent out, four had returned. Two came back\nempty-handed. No meat, only handfuls of fruit, but plenty of crafting goods.\nBayani felt a little better. But his mother was still out in the field, and his\nlittle hut felt unnaturally large at night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The days passed. The women salted and smoked the meat,\nstoring what they could. Healers tended to the little cuts and diseases hunters\ninvariably picked up in the jungle. Every sunrise, the Maestro gathered the\nwarriors and drilled them in the arts of war. This time, Bayani joined the men,\npracticing with his ginunting<\/em>, using\nhis bastons<\/em> only for drills and\nsparring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the third day after the hunt, as the village\ngathered around for dinner, Perla and Bayani made excuses to their families and\nsnuggled together. He was a man now, and she was coming to the end of her\napprenticeship. She rested her head against his shoulder, her warmth a\ndifferent kind of heat from the cooking fires. He liked that very much. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But something nagged at him. There were too few\npeople. Granted, people were still trekking in from the jungle, but\u2026his\nfriends, his neighbors, some weren\u2019t here. And as Salazar took his customary\nplace, Bayani noticed the headman was wearing a deep frown. In fact, he was\nseated earlier than usual, and the serving-women were still roasting the meat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something was wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The headman clapped his hands, slowly, solemnly, until\nall eyes were on him. \u201cMy friends, we have a matter of grave importance to\ndiscuss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maestro Alejandro, seated by himself as always, said,\n\u201cLet us hear.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTula and her group are missing. They should have returned\ntwo days ago. I fear something has happened to them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani chilled. \u201cMother,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Perla gripped his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of the villagers called, \u201cWhere did she go?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo the coast. They were going to trade with the\nAbiguays and help them fish.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Inrun!\u201d a woman shouted. \u201cThe Inrun are\nreturning! The Inrun are returning from across the sea!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani looked for the source of the voice. Dalisay,\nthe priest\u2019s wife, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, staring at something only she\ncould see. Some said she was a madwoman. Others said she had the Sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Conversations buzzed around the fire. The Maestro\nloudly cleared his throat, and raised his voice. \u201cThere could be other\nexplanations! We need to find proof.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dalisay continued as though Alejandro had said\nnothing. \u201cBlood will flow! Blood of the innocent, blood of the wicked!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you, we\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dalisay swivelled her head, cranking it at an\nunnatural angle, her eyes fixed on Bayani\u2019s. \u201cAn iron age is upon us! Beasts\nwalk amongst men! Swords shatter! Hearts fail!\u201d She extended a knobbly finger,\npointed at him. \u201cHeroes die!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her eyes rolled back. She groaned, and fainted. Ligaya\nrose with a sigh, tending to the unconscious crone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Perla gripped Bayani\u2019s arm. \u201cDon\u2019t listen to her.\nShe\u2019s crazy. Everybody knows that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Perhaps. But everybody knew lunatics were the closest\nto the gods. The villagers stared at him, whispering and chatting. Perla held\nhim tighter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks for the prophecy,\u201d Salazar said smoothly. \u201cWe\nwill be ready, no matter what comes. Ligaya, please look after Dalisay. For\nnow, we must find Tula and her group. We need a search party, five or six men.\nAny volunteers?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani turned to Perla. \u201cI\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She patted his arm, unwinding herself from him. \u201cGo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stood, raising his fist to the sky. \u201cI will go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Maestro shot to his feet. \u201cMe too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And soon every man scrambled to his feet. As Salazar selected\nfour others, Alejandro nodded to Bayani. Maestro to student, man to man,\nwarrior to warrior.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani nodded back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Warriors, monsters and death traps in a world-spanning dungeon!<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

To stay up to date with my latest writing news and promotions, sign up for my mailing list here<\/a>!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hunts lasted three days and three nights. As the newest warrior, Bayani had the honor and the burden of guiding the hunting party. The older ones followed him, judging his skills and dispensing advice. It was another trial, less formal but no less important.  Heading into the jungle, Bayani\u2019s heart had swelled for all of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[69,136,143,208,253,289],"class_list":["post-5642","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-bayani","tag-fantasy","tag-free-story","tag-martial-arts","tag-pulprev","tag-singlit"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5642"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5642"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5642\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5642"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5642"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5642"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}