34 DETOURS

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"The first men to cross the Peaceful Sea from the other side of the world came upon the Greater Archipelago to find glory. And there, they would find it...And there, they would also find their end."

Mingming dragged Halang atop the ridge on the side of the Narrows and to the cliff where Zullah was torturing Pulaco. While most of his men remained to face the heavily-armored Magalos that emerged out of the pass, all thinking it would just be like fighting the previous Destroyer scouts they ambushed earlier. But they were sorely mistaken this time, for they'll be facing the elite echelon of the sultan's soldiers. It was their first mistake. The second was that only a handful of the Daragangans went with their leader, Mingming, to face a line of archers about three dozen or so.

Mingming halted a few yards from them and raised his kampilan just below Halang's neck. On the opposite rank, the line of enemy archers opened a small gap, revealing Zullah who had one hand on Pulaco's blood-soaked hair and the other on a gray dirk. "Pulaco?" he said, face full of surprise. "Are you all right?"

The chief of Mandawili tried to warn his brother-in-law but it came only as a feeble groan. Pulaco was barely conscious, hanging on a fraying thread.

"I just want Pulaco back." Mingming added, barely controlling himself after seeing Pulaco's swollen, beaten face. "I don't want a fight, Zullah."

"Well, that sounds exactly what I'm thinking," Zullah said as his archers raised and aimed their bows at Mingming and his Daragangan. The whole lot sniggered, waiting for the Mandawilians to challenge them. Zullah clapped his hands. "But as you can see, you don't have the right to demand me anything."

Mingming took a step forward unfazed. "What did they do to you, Pulaco?"

Balat, who held the Mandawilian datu, growled at Mingming. "Don't worry baldy... I didn't hurt your chieftain that much."

Mingming took a step. "You son of a bitch! I'll tear your head off for hurting Salip!"

"Oh, he's all right," Zullah said, after giving Pulaco a gentle slap on the face. "He'll live. He'll live long enough." Halang murmured something but his father cut him off. "Shut up, you whiny little fuck," Zullah spat as he took one of the archer's bow and arrow. "I told you to be fucking careful, didn't I? Your insolence will ruin everything I have worked hard for." He aimed the weapon on his son with deadly intention. Halang's face froze in shock for a second. If it was just a joke no one was laughing, especially him.

"Don't do anything stupid, Zullah," the Daragangan leader said.

The Mandawilian serfs raised their shields as their leader pushed Halang forward. "It'll be alright, Salip," Mingming said as he held on the princeling's neck. "I'll get you out of here."

Zullah only snarled at him in reply, making his men laugh.

"Let's do this like the old ways." Mingming eyed Zullah and then Balat as he halted. "I'll give your son back if you give us Pulaco." Ming was betting on Zullah's rational side to come through. If things went south he and his men were on the bad side of the Narrows. They'd be hard-pressed in a fight against Zullah's archers. The terrain and the numbers were against them too. So, he hoped for a miracle or some sense on Zullah's deranged mind to rein things his way. Mingming nodded. "What do you think, honorable datu?"

Zullah lowered his bow, pausing to think. "The old ways. I like the sound of that."

"I know you'd say that."

"Oh, really?" Zullah said, raising his brow. "Well, I guess, Pulaco should've made you his fortune teller instead of making you the Daragangan's leader. He could've avoided this mess."

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