The Songs of Strife

33 BLADE

"What do you want, Zullah?" Pulaco said between bloodied lips as he struggled against the powerful arms of Balat.

He could try to escape the man's grasp. He could try to out-wrestle him. But the arrow wound on his side sent piercing pain in his rib every time he tried to move. His adversary, Zullah, smiled and let loose a series of heavy punches. Pulaco took all of it in the face without uttering a sound.

Zullah stopped to check his raw fist. "Your head's really tough, Kalipulako."

Pulaco groaned. He could barely see through his left swollen eye. And now, his head felt like it was splitting in half. Worse was, Mandawili's chieftain was beginning to spit dark blood. But it did not deter Zullah because for him, he was just starting. With the same intensity and ferocity, he struck Pulaco again and again until his own fist hurt.

The villanous chieftain eyed Pulaco. "You must be wondering-"

Salip Pulaco raised his head. "Why?"

Zullah only laughed at his fellow chieftain as he bashed his fist on the datu's face, continuing on with his torture. Like some mad god, he would chuckle unto himself, no longer caring what his timawas would think. Zullah would only stopped to admire his work. On the other hand, Pulaco's bloodied nose made him breathe through his mouth. Some of his tooth felt loose and one of his rib felt like it was broken too. But Zullah did not care and went on with his revenge.

Slowly, the noble chietain's stoic silence turned to screams as he howled in agony, spitting more blood on the ground. After quite some time, Pulaco slumped down. He felt as though all of his senses were bruised. But Balat's brawny arm across his neck prevented him from falling over completely.

"What is this all about?" Pulaco said as sighed heavily. The datu gritted his teeth in pain, struggling to maintain consciousness. "Why would you sell your own? Why?"

Zullah spat and rubbed his raw fist. "Your own? You were born in Kalimantan. You did not struggle in this land like I did! You filthy scum dare to compare yourself to me?"

"Is that it?"

"No, I wanted you dead for a long time now. I wanted you gone for good since I saw you on that hill years ago when you first driven the fiends out of this land. Is that not simple enough?"

Pulaco gave a dissatisfied look that made Zullah frown.

"Not enough reason, right?" He slapped Pulaco so hard his fingers raked the datu's face. "You want me to clear things out for you? Gods, can't you see?" He shook his head in dismay.

"You of all people should know." Zullah took his kangan jacket off. "The day you stepped on this island everything went to hell. Sri Piang almost died indulging your blood-lust and who do we replace him with? His incompetent pig-headed nephew, Humabara. That in itself is a death sentence to us all."

Zullah looked towards Balat and the man could barely hold himself as he sniggered.

"Maybe he knocked his head and forgotten, Lord Zullah."

"Forgotten?" Zullah slowly shook his head. "Is it that easy, Pulaco? Have you forgotten my sons and brothers. They died for your little wars too. They believed that you could win! And oh, they were so wrong. We could've bowed down to the conquering sultan. We could've joined his empire. And my sons and my brothers could've lived through all of it. Still not enough reason to betray you, right?"

Zullah snatched a handful of Pulaco's hair, pullinghim right up. "You promised me you'd die first before anything happened to them." A tear almost fell from Zullah's eye but he wiped it away with his blood covered hands. "You promised! Have you forgotten that too?"