{"id":5661,"date":"2020-02-26T22:07:29","date_gmt":"2020-02-26T14:07:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=5661"},"modified":"2020-02-26T22:07:29","modified_gmt":"2020-02-26T14:07:29","slug":"bayani-part-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=5661","title":{"rendered":"Bayani Part 7"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"Kerala,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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, and held his tongue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every morning, the Maestro prepared a special brew\nfrom strange herbs. He didn\u2019t reveal the names of the herbs, but whatever they\nwere, the drink chased away the pains of the previous day and refreshed his\nblood for the journey to come.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wide, paved road slowly but steadily climbed upwards. The jungle was thinning, giving away to rolling hills. They had made good time, shaving off almost a full day with their pace. Despite that, Bayani felt uneasy. The road was empty. He had expected more traffic. Where were the traders, the farmers, the messengers? All he had seen was a missionary, either extraordinarily brave or extraordinarily foolhardy, traveling alone and unarmed. But he was a peninsulare<\/em>, a full-blooded Hesperian, and therefore untouchable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was about to voice his concerns when Alejandro held\nup the hand signal for a halt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani halted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Maestro backed up into the trees. Bayani followed.\nWhen they were safely in the jungle, Alejandro leaned close. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSmell that, Bayani?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani took a long deep sniff. He smelled the wet damp\nof the jungle, the perpetual decay of the undergrowth. Fresh animal droppings\nand\u2026something else. Something very faint, smothered by the rich scents around\nhim. Something like\u2026iron?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat metallic smell, Maestro?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlmost. That\u2019s Inrun blade oil. They use it to\npreserve their weapons. But it turns rancid quickly in wet heat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s Inrun up ahead?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat might be why we haven\u2019t seen anybody on the\nroad.\u201d He sniffed again. \u201cWe got lucky. We shouldn\u2019t be able to smell it. Maybe\nsomeone applied a touch too much oil.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre we going to fight them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maestro frowned. \u201cYou\u2019re joking, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUm?\u201d Bayani started, but couldn\u2019t quite say anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t know how many of them are out there. They\nare expecting people like us. Also, the oil they use is poisonous when it\nturns.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani clenched his fists. \u201cThe Inrun are invading\nus!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOur job isn\u2019t to kill every Inrun in sight, Bayani.\nIt\u2019s to get help. This is not our fight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani breathed deep. \u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood.\u201d Alejandro smiled faintly. \u201cYou may yet learn\nthe way of war.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The maestro led them on a long, circuitous route\nthrough the jungle. Over small hills, through a hidden creek, describing a huge\narc around the path. The new path ate all the time they had saved traveling\nhard. But that, Bayani reflected, was likely why the Maestro had insisted on\nsuch a fast pace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the morning of the fourth day they reached the\noutskirts of Pulaka. The jungle yielded to paved streets and palms. Huts\nappeared on the horizon. People walked the streets. All kinds of people: ilustrados<\/em> in their colorful Hesperian\ngarb, negrito <\/em>traders selling the\nbounty of the jungles, sangley <\/em>laborers\nbuilding or digging under the watchful eye of pen<\/em>insular<\/em> overseers. The bustling crowds overwhelmed him. How could\nanyone want to live in such a noisy place? In a half-daze, Bayani kept his eye\non the Maestro\u2019s back, walking in his footsteps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pair came to a huge walled compound. Fuerza del Opon<\/em>, the Maestro called it.\nThe Hesperians were funny. They insisted that everybody call the city Opon\ninstead of its proper name of Pulaku. The locals had called it Pulaku long\nbefore the conquistadores<\/em> took the\nisland by force, and used the old name still. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two conquistadores<\/em> guarded the entrance to the fuerza<\/em>. They barred the way with their muskets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat you want?\u201d the taller of the two barked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wish to speak to Capitan Francisco de Cruz,\u201d\nAlejandro said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The soldiers sneered. \u201cReally. Why Capitan de Cruz\nspeak with you, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell him it\u2019s Alejandro Marquina the mestizo<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alejandro? A mestizo<\/em>? Well, granted, he was taller than everybody else in the village, maybe a shade lighter, but a mestizo? <\/em>It hadn\u2019t occurred to Bayani to think of the Maestro as one. The Maestro was the Maestro, and that was that. Yet the guards seemed to pay attention to the last word. Exchanging looks, uncertainty crept across their faces. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have all day,\u201d the Maestro said. \u201cAre you\ngoing to get him, or shall I go see him myself?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They stood at attention. \u201cYou may enter. But leave\nyour weapons with us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Maestro disarmed himself without hesitation. After\na beat, Bayani followed. He didn\u2019t like leaving his father\u2019s sword in the hands\nof these foreigners, but a man did what a man had to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A guard led them through the camp, past squares of men drilling on foot and horseback, towards a score of gaudy yellow tents. Two conquistadores <\/em>protected the largest. The Hesperians exchanged brief, hurried words before admitting the visitors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Inside the tent, a tall man stood from the desk. He\ntowered over Bayani, over the Maestro even. He smiled broadly, offering the\nMaestro a hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaestro Marquina! It\u2019s been too long since you last\ncame.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani wondered how the man had learned to speak the\nlanguage of the people so well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alejandro shook the Capitan\u2019s hand. \u201cIndeed, my\nfriend. I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSit, sit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He gestured at a pair of uncomfortable-looking stools\nin front of an ornately-carved desk. The men sat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou must be thirsty. Vino?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

De Cruz hauled up a leather sack. Filling three cups\nwith strange purple fluid, he passed them out and said, \u201cAnd who is your young\nfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBayani. The newest man of the village.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBayani, eh? Come, you must drink.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They drank. The wine sloshed down Bayani\u2019s throat,\nwarming his skin and burning his tongue. He coughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHah!\u201d de Cruz said. \u201cYou\u2019re a true <\/em>man now!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani coughed again, his cheeks flushing. \u201cThanks?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re very welcome.\u201d De Cruz turned to Alejandro.\n\u201cSo, why have you returned?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Inrun have returned. We\u2026I\u2026<\/em>need your help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Inrun? Back so soon? I thought they\u2019d learned\ntheir lesson the last time around.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEvidently not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou fought with the Hesperians before, Maestro?\u201d\nBayani asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d de Cruz said. \u201cDuring their first invasion, the\nMaestro saved my life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA debt you repaid twice over,\u201d Alejandro added.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re too kind. How many Inrun did you see?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAt least a hundred and fifty. Maybe more. They were\nmarching inland.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Hesperian frowned. \u201cWell, even so, I can\u2019t just\nride off into the sunset with you like in the old days. I answer to Duc <\/em>Velazquez now. He\u2019d rather have me\nride down unwashed tulisanes<\/em> in the\nhills, and we have received no word from anybody else that the Inrun were\ncoming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen do tell the good Duc <\/em>that we have spotted the Inrun a day away from the city.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Hesperian sat up. \u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey were waiting in ambush along the main road. I\nthink they were intercepting messengers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

De Cruz muttered something foul in his native tongue.\n\u201cAre they still there?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf we hurry, we may yet catch them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Hesperian leapt to his feet. \u201cCome then! I will\nrally my men. Guide us to the Inrun war party.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

De Cruz looked at Bayani. \u201cAnd you, quiet one, maybe\nwe\u2019ll see what the Maestro sees in you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alejandro stood, patting Bayani\u2019s shoulder. \u201cOf that, we have no doubt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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

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

Faith and firefights, street samurai and corporate cults in neon-drenched streets!<\/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":"

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, […]<\/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":[69,136,143,208,253,289,306],"class_list":["post-5661","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-bayani","tag-fantasy","tag-free-story","tag-martial-arts","tag-pulprev","tag-singlit","tag-steempulp"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5661"}],"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=5661"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5661\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5661"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5661"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5661"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}