3.3 HISS AND BARKS

  After the awkward introductions, Tikum, Ukok and the uripon father and daughter settled around a campfire using the walls of the ruins to shield them from the elements. Like old wandering companions, the little group settled with each other's warm company. Or at least the closest thing to it. Mendang sat with Ukok in the corner playing with what they had, while Milong tended the fire. When night finally came, he roasted two wild chickens on a spit and dressed Tikum's wound.

  "You've been staring at them for so long," the uripon said to Tikum as he studied the cold stones around them. All the uripon could see are the crumbling blocks that vaguely resembled a wall. He did not know what actually captivated Tikum about the ruins. He sighed and appraised the Black dog's wounded forearm. "Will it be okay if I put some on it?" He raised a shell full of his home-made salve. The pungent smell of lana oil mixed with various unknown herbs wafted on their noses.

  Tikum paused for a moment, looking at Milong's eyes, thinking if he should trust the man. "Sure," he finally said, looking away. His eyes seemed to be pulled by some invisible force as he gazed back to the vine-covered structure. He focused on the still intact parts and skipped the leaning and barely standing portion, where the granite was eroded by the constant blowing wind and the patient dripping water.

  "What do you think are those?" Milong raised his narrow chin towards the peculiar carvings on the ancient wall.

  "I don't know," Tikum said. "A part of me don't want to know."

  "Curious things."

  The sting of his wound made Tikum cursed. "Ah, gi-atay."

  "I'm sorry." Milong said. "I didn't mean to-"

  "It's okay... here let me do it myself." Tikum took the salve from Milong and began to apply it generously on his wound.

  Milong sat beside him to converse but Tikum's attention was still transfixed on the wall illustrated with silhouettes of what seemed to be humans prostrating towards grotesque figures... making bestial but sometimes almost human-like poses.

  The uripon sighed when he noticed that no small-talk could take Tikum's attention away. So, he decided to join him instead in studying the mysterious figures. The carvings themselves reminded him of tales of the cults around this region. He turned to Tikum when a question popped inside his head. "Do you have any guess as to what those things are?"

  "Maybe they're monsters who enslaved the folks who built this temple," the Black dog offered. "Or maybe, they're the remnants of a Tamawo settlement here. Those forest-folk maybe scarce now, but I'm quite sure they were once thriving in this region."

  Milong nodded, but a woman's voice answered his question way better than Tikum could.

  "No. They are not monsters, nor are they slavers." The woman was standing at the edge of the campfire where the light refused to touch. She took an awkward step, both arms clasped around herself, shivering. Tikum stood up but relaxed when he saw the woman's face. Lips chattering and face pale, he recognized her immediately. It was the same ati woman that the ruffians tried to hang earlier.

  She paused and bowed. "May, I join your lot in this cold night?"

  Tikum turned to Milong and the wandering slave nodded back to the master-less warrior serf. "If you share what you know about the carvings on the wall," Tikum said to the woman. "We might consider it." He threw a piece of yam at the ati woman which she expertly caught with one hand. She smiled at him after taking a bite from it.

  "They're not the Tamawo," she answered, wiping her mouth. "Our tribe elder said... only a handful of their clans are still here-"

  "And those markings on the wall are too recent, right?" Tikum guessed. "A few hundred years old. Not as old to be a Tamawo's doing."

  Tikum glanced at the walls. Come to think of it, the proportions of the figures on it did not match as well. The etchings on the walls had stout and short figures. While the long-lived Tamawos or their closest relative, the noble Dalaketnons were tall and hale.

  Tikum, of course, had seen one or two tamawo in his travels with Sri Kihod and he'd guessed they were at least seven feet tall. Aloof and erring on the side of the mysterious, the tamawo bastards were often too secretive to learn anything valuable from. What Tikum only knew about them was the bare essentials- what distinguished one from the other, and of course, their fondness of raiding newly born babes from poor parents.

  In Tikum's opinion, only those with weird and exotic standards would call the tamawo's alien features beautiful. Though he would concede to the idea that they did inspire awe at first sight. Or perhaps, terror was more accurate.

  The common tamawo (if they could be called common) often had distinct warm and rich skin colors. And their bodies were always dotted all over with clean, geometric decorative scarring unlike that of the ati people. But the tamawo's scars did not have any greater purpose, other than to show that the particular creature belonged to a certain tribe or clan. Or so Tikum was told.

  On the other hand, the even rarer Dalaketnon, as his former master told him, had pale and cool skin colors. They were often crowned with a variety of horns too. And between the two, the dalaketnon were the ones who showed the propensity for the arcane. Most folks say, that they derive their elemental powers from the magical Dalakit forests hidden all over Vijayas. And that the very magic they harness binds them to the land- as its long-lived servants. It's caretakers. But since all of this was hearsay, it could all be hogwash. Other than those traits, they basically had the same roots. All had slanting eyes, a sylvan nose that complemented their thin lips, an absence of a philtrum and flowing long hair of white or gray.

  "Perhaps they just returned to carve those things?" Milong said.

  "No," the ati replied. "The land of Buglas is slowly losing its magic. They... the servants of your devatas, the makers have no reason to stay or to return here."

  Tikum sighed. If the carvings were not about those haughty fey folk. Then, it must be about something else. "You seem to know more than what you say."

  She gave him a glance, but did not utter a word. The uripon cleared his throat. "Pray tell, what are those things, mistress?" he asked the ati woman.

  She smiled. "They are the Taglugar divinities, beings as old as the protogenoi, as strong as the Old Ones, as mysterious and fickle as the other Gods. And sometimes as uncaring as the Great Ones to those who are unjust. They're my people's god-spirits." She stooped closer to the fire, settling on a flat rock. "And this ancient ruin was my people's temple."

  "Ah, god-spirits? Never thought of that," the uripon said, offering her a bamboo bottle full of arak. "If you seek succor then this is your lucky day. Anyone with a story to tell is welcome to this campfire."

  "Thank you," she said, smelling the fiery liquor. She took a swig from the bottle, made a face and spat it all to the fire, making its flames flare angrily.

  Tikum smiled. "Acquired taste."

  "Not for me."

  "Not for everyone."

  The ati nodded. "I'm Jurah of the Ogalaan clan. And it will be an honor joining your campfire."

  Milong introduced himself and the others. And after settling in, Jurah told them stories about her people's gods and how Ukok saved her from the ruffians earlier. She even had time to show the children how to play a tune using just a leaf for an instrument. But something about Tikum and Ukok caught her attention.

  "May I ask? What brought you here after the incident earlier?" she said to Tikum.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "I'd like to keep things private," Tikum said, not bothering to look at her direction. "But if you're asking for specifics like here... here, then its because of a song."

  "A song?" Jurah said. "Surely, it must've been beautiful for you to follow it here."

  Tikum nodded. "Thought it was a binukot's. Thought it was other people-"

  "Guess you're disappointed then?" Milong said in jest, wiping the sweat off his face. "Finding us, instead of a beautiful royal maiden. It seems like a let down."

  Tikum laughed. "Not really. But it would've been great if it was indeed a princess who sang it. Truth is, I would've settled with just a pretty maiden." He turned his head towards the ati. "And how about you, Jurah of the Og, what brought you here?"

  "Oh. I got separated from my traveling companions and was caught by those mercenaries. At first, I thought they were just slavers, but they were clearly not. After escaping them with your daughter's help, I wandered about. I was going to settle in the forest for the night, but I saw your campfire's smoke and it led me here."

  "I see. And what is your plan now?"

  "Go north before the rainy season settles in. Go back home."

  Tikum only nodded, seeing no tell-tale signs of her lying to him.

  After a hearty meal the uripon, Milong, did a common gesture of friendship in Vijayas by sharing his precious store of betel nut chew to Jurah and Tikum. He then, told tales of monsters and binukots stolen from their soon-to-be husbands. All of it eliciting excited and horrified reactions from the children.

  While at the edge of the campfire the Black Dog sat, eyeing the uripon's mount. But occasionally, his eyes would wander back to the mysterious etchings of the ruins.

  He sighed. What did they mean? What secret stories did they hold? He shook his head. More importantly, why would anyone abandon such a place after laboring so hard to make its walls so intricate? All of it fueled the kindling of Tikum's curiosity ablaze. But he decided to forget it and focus his thoughts on his present predicament.

  He took a bite from the piece of chicken leg in his hand and mulled things over. By then, the rest of his camping party were sound asleep on the bare ground. So, he settled to get some shut-eye for himself. But when slumber did not come and boredom finally arrived he decided to check the perimeter of their campsite, careful to avoid the maze of cut-stones that littered the other side of the hill or the eerie balete tree opposite it. On his way, he kicked a piece of rock, sending it bouncing off the darkness, but curiously not a sound came back. He paused, shaking his head. Were they desecrating sacred grounds right now by staying here? Was he endangering Ukok? Again...

  If that's the case, then taking off on the horse with her was the only sensible thing to do. After all, that's the only reason why he was staying with this crowd. The horse could probably cover thrice the ground they were making and they'd no longer need to hitch a ride on his friend's caravan on their way north. It would be a faster journey home. Way much faster that it would leave Amburukay behind in the dust. He sighed. That would've been great but imagining Ukok's reaction to it didn't look well. Milong and his daughter were too decent. They were too nice to be fooled... to be betrayed.

  "A map."

  Tikum turned and saw the uripon standing with his back against the fire's light.

  "A what now?"

  "A map. Surely, you have one," Milong whispered, so that only Tikum could hear. "You've been watching my horse since after our meal. I'll give it to you in exchange for your map. I know you have it with you. Your little one told my daughter before they slept. We need it."

  "Why? A map's too important to just give away," Tikum said to Milong, seeing an opportunity to bluff his way into something of value. Clearly, he had no map with him. The fool must have misheard them. Too bad. He licked his lips. "And a horse could only get you too far in Buglas."

  "Just yes or no."

  "Do you think I'm a fool like you?" Tikum said. "You want to strike a deal with me with a stolen horse. Do you want me in trouble? They'll hang and skewer me on a pike if the owners see it with me. It won't be one or the other. Surely you know that."

  "Stolen?" the uripon said.

  "Yes." Tikum smiled. "In my experience, it's really rare to see someone from your station own a horse. You know, an uripon without a master. That there seems odd as well."

  "Is this what I get for my hospitality, an insult? I offered you a good deal as a gentleman would but-"

  "Well, all I know is giving a horse away for a map ain't enough reason. Unless if it's stolen. Or you're desperately running from someone. Or both."

  "That's a lie."

  "Who will they believe? You a slave? Or me, a timawa?"

  "Now, you're trying to fleece me?" Milong said. "What next? Make me beg? Is that what you want? After seeing how you care for your daughter, I thought of you a better man. But I guess, I am wrong on that regard."

  Tikum shook his head, smiling. He was struck with what he heard. And it stung him a bit. No one saw him as a decent man before, but it was not a reason to change tack. He sighed. "I just want to go home with my daughter... well and alive if I can. And I'll do anything to do it."

  "And we just want to escape south far from the Toad king. We are, in that case... alike."

  "The who, now?"

  Milong rubbed his forehead. "The one responsible for our and Jurah's situation earlier. Our datu, the Toad king. A wicked man who's gone mad after dreaming of his death by the hands of someone who knows magic."

  "From a buruhisan?" Tikum shook his head, another smile edging his lips."So, the Lord of Dream whispered murder on your datu's ear. And he believes it without question? Strange, sounds like he's just insane though. But all these wouldn't be Buglas if that sort didn't exist."

  "Yes. And he wants to kill us too."

  "Huh... I think those still don't concern me. So, back to more important things... Your mount. The horse can either go with me or-" Before Tikum could finish bargaining, something behind Milong moved.

  "What's happening, bapa?" Ukok said, awakened by their voices. She approached her father, wiping the sleepiness in her eyes away.

  "Nothing interesting, little mongrel," Tikum said, taking his daughter in his arms. "I told you to sleep... not sneak around like you did earlier. Why're you so stubborn?" Ukok gave her the look. She was her father's daughter after all.

  "Shall we continue the deal when the morrow come, sir?" Milong said, voice devoid of warmth and eyes sharp as a backstabber's blade. "Perhaps then, we can agree on a deal that's not one-sided."

  "Sure," Tikum said.

  "Can I trust that you will not do anything against me?" Milong stared at Tikum and his daughter. "Or my horse?"

  "Of course, you can." The Black Dog smiled. "But don't trust me too much, uripon."

  Milong nodded. "Oh, surely, I will not."

  Tikum picked a spot near the camp fire and lay there with his daughter. While Milong went to Mendang's side and they all went to sleep, campfire casting a yellow glow over them like a piece of amber caught by the sun's light. Tikum cursed himself. Threatening someone in the dead of the night was a bit stupid even for him. But what was done was done. Perhaps, the uripon would be too intimidated to do something regrettable. He nailed his hopes on that notion as his eyes drooped shut. Near the fire, Tikum lay and dreamed of home. Of Ananipay. And then of his ill mother and spiteful father. He dreamed of his childhood. He dreamed of his past.

  Would his folks welcome him after running away from them just before his Tiklad? Just before his first taste of battle, when he was still a purawan? Would they still hate him after so many years? Surely, returning back with Ukok will change all of it, he thought. They'll certainly give him his due now that he's a batakan. Even though he hasn't yet earned all his tattoos. He rolled in his sleep as his dreams took a darker shade.

  Unbeknownst to him, three shadows lurked and watched at the edge of their camp. "This place gives me the creeps," the man with the tallest shadow whispered. "But that's definitely them."

  "I know, I'm a hunchback not a blind fool. What do we do now, boss?"

  Their leader grunted. "We strike of course. But do not kill the black-putonged man and the ati. They're mine to do as I please, understood?"

  "Huh?"

  "What he means is that we just hurt them," the hunchback said to the tall man beside him. "Hurt them bad and teach them a lesson. But do not kill them. Not yet."

  "Oh, sure...boss."

  "Finally," the hunchback said, shaking his head. "We're all on the same level."

  "Silence, Dumot," Silotan said, edging towards their sleeping victims. "Go, go now both of you and strike when I give the signal." The two underlings nodded as the night winds began to blow harder, whipping the canopy of trees around them.

  ***

  The bonfire began to waver, dying ever so slightly while casting dancing shadows on the decaying walls. Above the lone balete tree at the center of the ruins something slithered, snapping branches with its weight. One would think it was just the breeze but it wasn't. It was something unearthly and sinister. It coiled its scaled tail on one of the tree limbs, taking a closer look at its meal below with yellow-slit eyes. Acid spittle dripped from its maw just thinking of the prospect of food coming her way this time around.

  The thing in the balete was a creature fattened by the loneliness that clung in the cracks of the ruins and it was strengthened by the fear inside all of humanity's heart. And now, it wanted to feast and satiate the hunger inside it. But it was not a brash creature like most men. It was a practiced predator as ancient as the toppled temple around it. And so, it watched and waited as the humans around the campfire slept, all unaware that something was hidden in the darkness, waiting for an opportunity to sink its fangs and suck their precious souls.

  The creature was about to sing its frightful song, but something beyond the fire's light caught its attention. They were making as little noise as possible. But the creature could sense their presence as they moved around her meal, one step at a time- sending minute vibrations all over the place. The predator took its slender tongue out to make a better sense of its surrounding and on that the exact moment a shrill whistle woke Tikum, sending him on his toes...

  Before Tikum could shake the sleepiness in his eyes away a wooded club in the chest sent him reeling near their campfire. Another strike and he fell, nursing what seemed to be a cracked rib. The Black Dog could only yowl in pain.

  "That's for what you did earlier," Dumot said, resting his weapon on his shoulder.

  A few hand span away, Jurah shouted a curse when Birang back-handed Milong back to sleep.

  "Quiet you filthy buruhisan." The lanky man turned to her direction and struck her with the pommel of his sword, sending her down on her knees. "Quiet or you'll get a blade next."

  With that, the children awoke with screams and protestations, but Silotan and his minions ignored them, focusing on the prone Tikum Kadlum.

  "You think you could get away that easily?" Silotan said to the former timawa. "You think you can just run from us?" He then, proceeded to repeatedly kick Tikum Kadlum.