{"id":5647,"date":"2020-02-23T22:14:05","date_gmt":"2020-02-23T14:14:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=5647"},"modified":"2020-02-23T22:14:05","modified_gmt":"2020-02-23T14:14:05","slug":"bayani-part-4","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=5647","title":{"rendered":"Bayani Part 4"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"Sword,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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<\/em> tucked into his loincloth, ginunting<\/em> at his hip. Alejandro carried his bolo <\/em>in place of a ginunting<\/em>. The bolo<\/em>\u2019s short, heavy blade was more useful for clearing vegetation than the ginunting, <\/em>but in his hands the bolo<\/em> was no less effective a weapon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Salazar examined the group, patting their shoulders\nand wishing them well. To Alejandro, he said, \u201cExpecting trouble, Maestro?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSometimes, the seeress gets something right. And even\nif she\u2019s wrong, we will be able to hold a hunt on the way home and keep the\nlarder full.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh. Good thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani marveled at the Maestro\u2019s thought process. He\nwould have to learn how to think like him. As the party trudged off into the\njungle, Bayani lagged behind, keeping pace with Alejandro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou have something on your mind,\u201d Alejandro said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell\u2026it\u2019s Grandmother Dalisay. She pointed at me when\nshe said, \u2018Heroes die\u2019. Do you think\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho knows the hour of one\u2019s death? Not I, not even\nshe. The important thing is to focus on the task at hand and do it well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut if\u2026what if\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen die like a man. Sword in hand, surrounded by the\ncorpses of your enemies. Die so well your enemies will fear your ghost.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani blinked. He had never heard the Maestro speak\nso harshly. The closest he had come to that was explaining the effect a certain\ntechnique would have. But the lectures sounded like an afterthought, an\nepilogue to the crash of sticks on sticks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alejandro chuckled. \u201cBayani, you have your father\u2019s\neyes. And, I think, you have his heart. But as long as you carry that ginunting\u2014<\/em>\u201d he nodded at the sword \u201c\u2014you\nmust be prepared to draw it. And be prepared for the consequences of drawing\nblood.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani nodded. There was so much he had to think about\nnow, and so little time. Maybe later, when Mother was back home, he would have\nample time to think. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The jungle gave way to a mangrove swamp. Bayani felt\nit in his feet, the way the earth softened and squelched between his toes. The\ngroup slowed down, carefully winding their way through the thicket of roots\nthat erupted from the mud. Bayani kept his eyes open, watching for stinging\ninsects, crabs and other inhabitants of the undergrowth. He kept his eyes\ntrained on the ground, watching his feet very carefully. So carefully, he\nalmost missed the hand signal to halt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani froze. The other men halted too. The Maestro,\nleading the party, lowered to a crouch, his bolo chambered by his ear. One of\nthe men nocked an arrow to his bow. Another unsheathed his ginunting<\/em>. Bayani breathed slowly, inching his hand to the grip of\nhis sword. He strained his ears, listening for footsteps, snapping twigs, signs\nof enemies. But all he heard were the warbling of egrets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Egrets, he remembered, were migratory birds. They\nwould have flown south this time of the year. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Why were\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Figures leapt from the earth. Gray mud dripped from\ntheir bodies. Bayani yelped. Shiny objects flashed in their hands. The\nmudpeople roared as one, charging towards them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani shook. What were these? Multo? Diwata?Some\nother kind of beast? What were\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKIIIIIIIILLLLLLL!\u201d Alejandro yelled, launching\nhimself at the nearest foe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The men took up the war cry, counter-charging the\nambush. Bows thrummed, and two of the enemies dropped. Bayani fumbled, yanking\nhis ginunting<\/em> free. Steel crashed\nagainst steel. Blood splashed across the trees. He was needed\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No. The Maestro had said that one should never attack\nfrom the front if one could attack from the side. Bayani surveyed the scene\nagain. There were at least eight Inrun, closing in on his people in a rough\nsemicircle. If Bayani joined the scrum there would be little room to fight. But\nif he attacked from the side\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mass of screaming men seemed thinner on the left.\nBayani splashed through the mud, scrambling over roots, bringing his weapon\nhigh and using his live hand to maintain his balance. Blood pounded in his\nears, men screamed and died and\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And a mud-covered man emerged from behind a tree, his\nsword high in both hands. This close, Bayani could study the sword in exquisite\ndetail. The point of the tapered blade shrunk down to a narrow base. A spikelet\nprotruded above the main point. This was a kampilan<\/em>,\nthe signature weapon of the Inrun. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was a man, and men can die.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Inrun yelled, slashing his sword down. Bayani\ndiagonal-stepped left, his sword racing for the Inrun\u2019s head. The blades\nclashed. Bayani flowed into a second cut, going for the knee. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Inrun staggered, falling on his back, growling in\na strange tongue. Bayani pointed his sword at him and said, \u201cNo, no, don\u2019t get\nup, don\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Inrun got up. Favoring his left leg, he propped\nhimself up on his sword. With a shout, the Inrun lunged, slashing wildly.\nBayani swore, side-stepped left, swung his ginunting<\/em>\ndown, looked away and brought his hand up to his face. Warm liquid splashed\nacross his palm. His sword down at his hip, Bayani stepped in, smacking his\npalm into his enemy\u2019s face and thrusting the blade deep into his belly.\nTwisting the sword, he slashed out and used the momentum to push the threat to\nthe ground. A foul stench filled his nose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His opponent fell to his side, squirming and moaning.\nPink snakes writhed in the open wounds. Bayani grimaced. His legs turned to\njelly. Did he just\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBayani!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned to his left. An Inrun was charging, sword\nraised. Bayani snapped his sword to the guard and the Inrun\u2019s head and arm sailed\nfrom his shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani blinked. How the\u2026?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The corpse took a step and tripped over a root, gushing\nblood at his feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBayani!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked up. Maestro Alejandro was standing in front\nof him, blood dripping from his bolo<\/em>, his eyes aflame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPay attention, Bayani! There\u2019s more than one foe!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His arms regained their strength. \u201cWhere, Maestro?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOut there. Stay here. Watch our flanks. I\u2019ll check on\nthe others and get back to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alejandro spun on a heel and returned to the front.\nNow, Bayani realized, the jungle had gone silent. No bird calls. No fog croaks.\nOnly the moaning of grievously wounded men. Bayani wiped the filth on his ginunting<\/em> off on a rag. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Inrun he had gutted was muttering something under\nhis breath. He was holding in his guts, but blood seeped through his weakening\nfingers. At that moment, Bayani realized the man\u2019s right hand was lying a foot\naway from the rest of him, still clutching his sword. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIna\u2026<\/em>\u201d he\nwhispered. \u201cIna\u2026<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Was he calling for his mother? This\u2026this barbarian,\nwho had tried to kill him not too long ago? How strange. A moment ago, he was\nfurious and filled with life; and now he lay as helpless as a baby, bleeding\nout his lifeblood. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIna\u2026Ina\u2026Ina\u2026<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His voice burbled, and faded away. All the strength\nfled Bayani\u2019s hands. He staggered, pushed himself up against a tree. Next to\nthe headless corpse. It was still pumping blood, still twitching, still\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bile raced up Bayani\u2019s throat. He turned away and\nretched. Again and again and again. A line of thick mucus fled his open mouth.\nWiping his lips and tear-stained eyes, Bayani looked up to see Maestro\nAlejandro towering over him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you well?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No. He didn\u2019t feel well. He didn\u2019t feel like he would\never be well again. He brought himself to attention, as best as he could, and\nrealized to his shame that he had soiled himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re alive, yes?\u201d Alejandro said softly. \u201cNo\ninjuries?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani patted himself down. \u201cYes Maestro.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood. That means you\u2019ll become stronger.\u201d He gripped\nBayani\u2019s shoulders with powerful hands. \u201cYou did well, you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes Maestro. I\u2026I feel sick.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alejandro nodded. \u201cYes. Whatever you are feeling now\nis completely normal. Everybody\u2019s first time is like this. Including me. Get it\nout of you and carry on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t\u2026feel well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut you are alive. We<\/em> are alive. We won, and that\u2019s the important part. Whatever\nunease you feel, you will recover from it. Come, now. We must rejoin the\nothers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani wasn\u2019t sure if Alejandro was right this time. But there was still work to do. Sheathing his sword, he followed the Maestro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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

Steel, faith and monsters in a world-spanning dungeon!<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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

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\u2019s short, heavy blade was […]<\/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":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5647","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5647"}],"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=5647"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5647\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5647"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5647"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5647"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}