3.2 BONES OF THE OLD ONES

  "What are you standing there for, ingrates?" the bearded Silotan said, pointing at Ukok. "Grab that waif before she escapes!"

  Seeing them come for her, Ukok raised the agimat on her neck high above her head, chanting the words her father taught her to trigger the tikbalang's mane. Not long after, the winds began to blow hard and the jungle around her became as quiet as an empty grave. Anticipation clung on everyone's heart. Something was about to happen. Something extraordinary. But then, there was nothing.

  "That's it?" Ukok said, looking at the agimat like it was suppose to whisk her away from danger.

  The hunchback halted in front of her. "Heh, what's that trinket supposed to be?"

  "Probably, some magical thingy?" the gangly Birang offered an answer after grabbing? the agimat from Ukok's hand. "Hell, ain't it our lucky day?" he added. "I guess our bounty's going to be doubled, boss."

  "Lucky?" Silotan slowly rubbed his beard. "Perhaps, you're right." He smiled mulling things over, hatching a nefarious plan. "Today seems like our luckiest day. Perhaps, we could finally buy our own balangays and leave this god awful job behind. If only we could catch two buruhisan's instead."

  Birang made a face. "Um... do we have to buy boats for each of us, boss? I'd want to spend my part on something else and–"

  Silotan laughed. "You can do anything you want, Birang. If balangays are not your thing, then go buy yourself an uripon! Or ten slaves if you want!"

  Birang nodded and smiled, showing all his teeth.

  "The Toad king is going to owe us so much loot," Dumot the hunchback said. "And before the sun sets we'll surely empty his coffers." He cackled. "Good thing that loon is the superstitious kind. Still can't believe he's just doing this after a bad dream. I hope he keeps having awful nightmares."

  Silotan gestured so, Birang grabbed Ukok by the neck and covered her mouth before she could scream for help. The little girl tried to struggle and escape, but the man's gangly hand was deceptively strong.

  "Tell you the truth, I don't really believe him." Birang turned to Dumot, who was shaking his head.

  "You dunce, didn't you know dreams can foretell one's fate?" the hunchback said before laughing at his own joke. A joke that clearly went over Birang. When Dumot so this, he shook his head slowly and turned to Silotan. "The Toad King's just being sensible. Right, boss?"

  The mastermind of their operation nodded. "Sensible or not. What's important is we get him what he wants. If it's the heads of all the buruhisan in his territory then we give it to him."

  The ati woman cut him off. "I'm not a buruhisan! I've been telling you the truth!" She struggled to balance herself on the stool.

  "Nor is that mangy child one," Silotan said, turning back at her. "Bah! But who cares about the truth? I don't see Datu Magung seeing the difference between a dead buruhisan or some wanderer that no one will ever remember." He kicked the stool off the ati's feet.

  The maiden's eyes widened as a scream tried to escape her mouth. She felt her whole body stiffened as her weight shifted backwards. She knew only the noose would hold her upright and only death would catch her fall. The stool wobbled underfoot as she balanced herself. She tried to hold fast, toes of her feet clawing at its edge, but in her panic she pushed the stool further, toppling it over. Time seemed to move a fraction of a second slower as her heart quickened, beating faster and faster as she felt the strangle of the rope. She was going to die a most painful death and she could not do anything about it. She whimpered as she fell, it was quickly followed by the resounding sound of something breaking.

  But instead of her neck and spine snapping, the branch that held the taut noose gave way as a double-bit axe cut through it. The ati landed on the bare ground, wind knocked off her. Then, all heads turned to the hand from whence the black steel came. And there, standing amidst the windswept cogon grass was a shaggy-haired man with skin as brown as the maya's feather and tattooed all over. He silently watched them, wearing only a black bahag bound to his hip by a gray lubid belt. But what caught their attention was his eyes. It showed a glimpse of something so far from being human. He had the eyes of a stray dog– feral and most unkind.

  The stranger shook his head, mane-like hair bound by a black linen head-wrap. "Didn't I told you to stay put?" he finally said, grabbing the hilt-less dagger behind his back and rushing his way through the tall grass.

  Birang gave him a quizzical look. "Say what, again?"

  "He ain't talking to you, pea-brain!" Dumot shrieked. "He's talking about the child! Quickly! Use that little filthy mutt! Take her as hostage! Before he–"

  Dumot's words were interrupted as the man began to run towards them.

  "Hell!" Birang said, realizing what was about to happen. He stepped forward and raised his kampilan with his other hand, ready to shed blood with it. But before he could cleave the stranger in front of him in half, the man's dagger already went straight towards his head. The blade's pommel struck his jaw clean, taking him out of the fight in an instant. With surprising speed, Dumot came behind the stranger with a club, swinging it wildly at the man's head.

  "Look out!" the ati screamed, trying to free herself using Hutik.

  The woman's shrill warning gave the black-putonged man enough time to dodge the hunchback's swing. He whirled to face Dumot, sinking his hand on the hunchback's neck. And with one swift motion, he lifted Dumot up and slammed him down hard to the ground. Their commotion below startled all the crows on the many-tiered branches of the hanging tree, sending them flying in all direction.

  Tikum closed in on Dumot, pinning him down. The hunchback could only grimace in pain as terror filled his core. "By the by, if you mention my daughter using that foul mouth again you hogwash." Tikum slowly shook his head and whispered as calm as he could possibly manage, "Or even touch a strand of her hair, I will skewer you with a pike and carve you a new face that's uglier than what you have, now."

  The pallid Dumot quivered as the Black Dog smiled. The hunchback knew that he was dead serious and it was not some idle threat the he could just shrug off. It was a promise that the mangy man was more than willing to honor. It was all written in his eyes and in the tone of his voice.

  "Is that clear, hunchback?" Tikum freed him and Dumot only snarled as he rolled to his side, face still in pain. He quickly scrambled away as far as he can, dragging one of his short stubby legs.

  Tikum turned towards Ukok and was about to speak when a glint of gray metal from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He raised his short blade against it and steel clanged against steel as Silotan's kampilan struck his dagger with vicious intent. The Black Dog backed away as another downward swing came from his foe.

  Tikum cursed. Right then, he realized that Silotan was a veteran swordsman- fully capable of ending his life with one swing. Tikum staggered, feeling the jarring impact straight through his bones as he blocked another strike. He tried to use his opponents force against him but Silotan only smiled, countering Tikum with a kick on the rib and a slash that nicked the Black Dog's forearm. Tikum staggered again, pulling Ukok away from their melee.

  "You're not going anywhere!" the bald, bearded Silotan said, pointing his single-edged sword at Tikum. "Surrender! Or I'll cut you and your little pet there to bits!"

  "Let's see you try that old man," Tikum said, eyes sharper than his dagger.

  "Oh, try... I will!" Silotan took a step raising his sword but fell mid-way through as his head exploded with pain. He turned back and the last thing he saw before he blacked out was the ati woman with the stool on her hands.

  "I think you need to sit," she said to the unconscious Silotan, dropping the wooden stool beside his limp body.

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  "Gi-atay, Ukok. What would've happened to you if I didn't come on time?" Tikum stood up, carrying his child with him. "What did I tell you about folks here?"

  "I just wanted–"

  "Will you listen to what I say for once?"

  Ukok only stayed silent, eyes anchored on the ati in front of them.

  "That was brave, what you did there," the ati said as Tikum faced her. "I'm indebted to you for saving my life."

  "Don't mind it." Tikum raised a hand still focused on Ukok. "It wasn't for you. But if you have any food to share with you we can call it even."

  "No, I have nothing. And I'm not talking to you." The ati's brow arched. "I'm talking to the little girl."

  Tikum looked down on Ukok. "Oh, I thought you were... well, brave ain't the word to describe what she did." He sighed. "More like foolish if you ask me. Something she wouldn't do again, right?"

  Ukok remained silent.

  "Foolish or not, I owe her my second lease on life," the ati said.

  "Well, that's nice to hear, but we have somewhere to go and it's best we start early. I'd suggest you do the same, these fellows here are not exactly amateurs when it comes to hurting people." Tikum was about to leave when the ati called him back.

  "Wait, don't forget this." She returned Tikum's axe with the faulty agimat that Ukok left behind. "I hope we cross paths once again."

  "Don't bet on it," he said, strapping the axe and stowing the magical artifact on his lubid belt for safe-keeping.

  Tikum reprimanded his daughter again, but this time he was gentler in his words. He also told her about the nightmare he had regarding Salak's fate. The rotund man was annoying but what happened to him was not something Tikum would wish even to his worst enemies. Good thing his dream was so bad that it woke him. Things would've ended differently for the ati and Ukok if it wasn't.

  ***

  Tikum and Ukok continued their way through the thick jungles of Buglas, taking the winding trail north. Tikum hoped that they would meet his merchant friend along the way, but no carabao-driven caravan disturbed the dusty trails. When he realized that the sun was on his way back to the horizon, he hastened his gait and for a league they did not stop their trek. Hunger came, followed by thirst and fatigue. So, the Black Dog decided to look for a place to spend the night. He went off the trail, wary of the dangers the open path presented. He knew that similar perils like the bandits they faced earlier that day could happen to them again.

  "You still awake, Ukok?" he said to his daughter who piggy-backed behind him.

  "Yes, bapa. But I'm hungry and tired and–"

  "Okay, just a little bit of wait and I'll find you a good place to stay for the night." His stomach growled. "And perhaps scrounge some food for us."

  "Okay," she said, resting her head on her father's back.

  He took his bamboo canteen from his sack and gave the last remaining drops to Ukok. But instead of taking it, Ukok's body tensed.

  She pointed at the bushes, fear clear in her voice. "Bapa, look!"

  "What is it!?"

  "In the bushes, bapa. I saw something in the bushes!"

  Tikum took cover behind a rotten log and brought her daughter down. "Stay put. Don't make a sound. I'll circle it from behind."

  Ukok nodded.

  Using the shadows of the canopy, Tikum circled the bushes with his axe, Hutik, in hand. As he inched closer to his target, he felt his breath tighten. While his heart beat steadily like the drums of his tribe before a mangubat. But what he uncovered behind the green and lush foliage only made him smile.

  "Gi-atay," he said, looking at the thing in front of him. "Gods, it's nothing." He took the vines that covered the ancient thing before turning towards his daughter. "Come here, Ukok. See what I found."

  "What is it, bapa?"

  "It's nothing," he said, taking Ukok and placing her on top of the flat stone.

  The block of granite carved into a serpent's head was chest tall and only a few things distinguished it from the many snake idols in the region. First, was that it didn't just had fangs on its maw but tusks as sharp as javelins. It told Tikum that it wasn't the Great naga nor the legendary serpent sawa. It was something else. Something he hasn't yet encounter which made it a bit unsettling. The two curling horns that flanked the side of its head like a ram made it all the more stranger for Tikum. He sighed. Another weird thing in his list of weird things about Buglas.

  "Bapa!?" Ukok said.

  "Oh... sorry," he said as he took his daughter off it, seeing the trace of unease on her face. "I think it's a marker or a fallen temple column. Nothing to worry about."

  Ukok nodded as Tikum smiled and continue their way.

  "Bapa? Do you hear that?" she said, embracing his father.

  Tikum raised a brow. "Hear what?"

  "That song, bapa. That soft song."

  Tikum turned his head and heard something vague from the clearing up ahead where the trees and the shrub refused to grow. It was louder than the cricket's song, but softer than an outright scream, melding with the coming night winds. There was a strange harmony in its tone and melody but it did not sound like any bird or fowl that resided in the region. There was a hint of something unnatural in its sound too. If it was some musical instrument, Tikum did not know what it was. It went on for a couple of seconds, silencing the jungle denizen for a short while. Then, Tikum strained his ears to trace its origins, but it receded into nothingness, leaving only the scratching, crawling sounds of the critters of the jungle around them.

  "Let's go find it. A song means only one thing."

  "Find it?"

  "Yes. Be ready, child."

  "What do you think is it, bapa?"

  "People, Ukok. Good people, whom we could borrow things from," he said, smiling as though he made a joke only he could understand.

  After making sure that it was safe to venture out into the open, Tikum took Ukok and wandered about, looking for the song's singer and keeping an open eye for a cozy spot to stay in before the fast approaching night caught them. Tikum turned every stone over, but there was nothing and no one there except them. Tikum studied the far slope. It was covered with brown, withered grass and beyond it was a hill. Curious and a bit desperate, he hauled his meager belongings and his four year old daughter on that mound and found the ruins of a temple that stood against the ravages of the high winds. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was the safest place to spend the night in. So, the Black Dog decided to stay there.

  It was a mistake he would later regret.

  The ruins was covered with moss and weeds and at the center was a lone balete tree that looked deathly pale as though its limbs were bleached white by the sun. Tikum made sure to avoid it. But its vines were everywhere, winding around the carven stones and broken masonry like hungry boas to a prey.

  As he walked on, he saw a less damaged block depicting a relief with a figure crowned with antlers. The horned-man carried a bow and a short spear with him, facing what seems like a deep pit. There were also other figures but most of them were eroded. One partially shattered block even had a large snake coiling around a faceless woman. It did not made sense for Tikum and only added to the unease that crept inside his core.

  The whole place gave an aura of unguessable antiquity. A place that felt like it was older than time.

  Tikum heard of some tribes in the hinterlands of Buglas, Irong-Irong and Zubu, discovering hidden old temples for some forgotten devata, but this was not like those. Neither was it some cultic temple for the titanic moon-eaters of the land like the flying-leviathan, Bakunawa, and the golden-feathered, Manaul, he once chanced upon during one of his missions for Sri Kihod.

  It could be for some forsaken godling, he guessed. Abandoned by its once pious but fickle believers. But now, it was finally left to wallow in decay, here in the middle of nowhere and in total solitude. Tikum thought of his former master, the wise but flawed Sri Kihod would have had a few words to describe this whole thing. The sorcerer-king was, after all, one of the few learned man with wise words weighty enough to sway a many leader's will. Tikum smiled before mimicking Sri Kihod's tone of voice, mocking him with every word he uttered.

  "A monument of creative mastery in a place abandoned by ghosts themselves," Tikum said, admiring the strange symmetry and unknowable artistry buried within the broken architecture. "Right here." He spat. "In a usual shit-hole."

  It was the best words he could find. Surely, Sri Kihod would be proud of him. He shook his head and prayed to the devatas to keep his former mentor locked up where he was for all eternity.

  "Or perhaps, it's an alien shadow of the wild past in this not-so-tame time?" a man's voice said, startling the former timawa.

  Tikum's muscle tensed as he turned, glimpsing at the man wearing the yellow sash of an uripon. He was coming out of the wide gap in the wall, covered mostly by vines. Stranger still, was that the man had a white horse in tow with him.

  "And what do we have here?" the Black Dog said, unstrapping his axe and placing himself between the fellow and Ukok.

  "I'm not armed, nor am I here to harm you," the uripon answered, tying the white beast's rope on a bush. He raised both hands and gave Tikum a curt nod.

  "Why do I have a feeling that I've heard that before?"

  "Oh, is that so? Apologies."

  "It is so."

  "Then, let me say that this time it is sincere, sir."

  "Well, that's a nice addition, right there. I wonder if its true–"

  A nervous laughter came out the uripon's mouth as Tikum brandished his axe towards him.

  "I'm Milong, a humble servant and an admirer of antiquities. And I assure you, I'm not here for violence. I'm just here to offer you my hospitality." He turned back to the gap in the wall and beckoned someone in the shadows. "Come out. Come and welcome our company for the night with me, child."

  Behind the ruined temple wall a long-haired little girl dressed in yellow baro and malong came out, joining the man's side. After a glance at Ukok and Tikum, she gracefully bowed her head to show respect. Compare to his father's sun-touched skin, the little child was of fairer complexion and her general features were a lot softer. There was also an air of decisiveness in the little movement she made, a contrast to her fidgety and unremarkable father.

  "This is my daughter, Mendang," the man said, placing his trembling hand on the thick-browed girl's head. "She saw you and your little one come. So, we decided to share a campfire with you. I hope you would not make me regret my decision." He smiled awkwardly.

  Tikum lowered his axe, but not his guard. "Well, I'll take your good offer if you really insist," he said as the little uripon girl gave him a handful of steaming yaro, and purple yam, wrapped in banana leaves.

  Tikum's stomach growled, agreeing with his own words. And then, behind him, Ukok took a peek, both hands wrapped around his leg. "Can I have some, too?"

  "Can she?" Tikum said, slightly raising his axe.

  The uripon father and her daughter only nodded with fixed smiles.

  "I guess, that's a yes, Ukok," the Black Dog said to his smiling daughter. "I guess that's a yes."