[New Quest: The Rotten Root]
[Objective: Consolidate power. Root out traitors. Hold the alliance together before it tears itself apart.]
The new council hall smelled of fresh-cut timber and damp stone. Sunlight slanted through the high windows, catching on the long table we had built from a single massive narra tree. At the head sat the four of us who now held real power: me, Hiraya with her ever-present sword, Pagbuaya still smelling of salt and ship tar, and Madam Mei, elegant and watchful as always.
Opposite us sat the Old Guard.
Datu Maku, Datu Liham, and Datu Tapa. Three men who had ruled their small domains for decades simply because their fathers had ruled before them. Heavy in body and heavy with gold necklaces, earrings, and bracelets that clinked every time they moved. They looked uncomfortable in the new hall—like old furniture that didn't quite fit anymore.
Datu Maku cleared his throat, the sound wet and labored. "Let us speak plainly, Kalayaan. You demand taxes from us. You tell us which laws we must follow. You even want to decide how much rice our people should plant. Is this the 'unity' you speak of?"
I kept my voice calm and respectful. "It is for our common survival, Datu. The Spaniards will not come as traders forever. When they return with soldiers, we must face them as one people, not scattered clans fighting alone."
"Common survival?" Maku leaned forward, his heavy cheeks quivering. "Last year we answered only to ourselves and to the spirits of our ancestors. Now you dictate who our children can marry, where we can build new houses, even how we trade with outsiders. You sit here like you are already king of all Luzon."
A few murmurs rose from the other datus. Liham and Tapa nodded in agreement.
Pagbuaya's fist crashed down on the table so hard the cups jumped. "Watch your tongue, old man! This man saved your village from the coughing sickness that was killing your children. He brought iron that makes stronger tools and deadlier weapons. Without him, you would still be fighting with bamboo spears and praying the rains come on time. If you're too weak or too proud to follow real leadership, then leave. But do not stand in our way!"
Maku's eyes narrowed, but he didn't shrink back. "We do not fear strength, Sea Wolf. What we fear is strangeness. This Kalayaan… he does not speak like any man from these islands. He dresses in clothes we have never seen. He creates weapons that roar like thunder and spit fire. Tell me truthfully—" his voice dropped to a whisper, "—is he even human? Or is he a demon wearing the skin of a man, sent to lead us to ruin?"
The air in the hall grew thick.
Hiraya was on her feet in an instant, her chair scraping loudly behind her. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword so tightly her knuckles turned white. "You dare question the Datu's divinity? I should cut out your tongue for such insolence!"
"Enough, Hiraya," I said quietly, not even raising my voice. "Sit."
She obeyed, but her glare could have burned holes through the three datus.
I leaned forward slowly, resting my forearms on the table, and looked straight into Maku's eyes. My voice stayed soft, almost gentle.
"You question my methods. I understand. Change is frightening for men who have grown old and comfortable. So let me ask you simple questions instead."
I paused.
"Do your people have enough food stored to survive the coming year if the rains fail again?"
Maku opened his mouth, then closed it.
I continued. "Do your warriors carry strong iron weapons, or are they still sharpening pieces of bamboo and hoping for the best? When the Spanish galleons return with hundreds of armed men, how long will your wooden palisades last?"
Silence.
"Exactly," I said, leaning back. "You bring almost nothing to this alliance. I bring knowledge, weapons, medicine, and gold. Yet I offer all of you protection, prosperity, and a chance to become something greater than small chiefs of small villages. All I ask in return is loyalty."
My smile appeared, but it was cold.
"Or… are you planning something else? Perhaps sending quiet messengers to the Spaniards? Telling them where we keep our cannons and gunpowder? Hoping they will let you keep your old titles and your little thrones in exchange for betraying your own people?"
The hall fell into a crushing silence.
All three datus had gone pale. Sweat trickled down Maku's face. Liham's hands trembled in his lap. Even Tapa, usually the quietest, looked like he might faint.
"We… we would never do such a thing!" Maku finally stammered, his voice cracking.
"Good," I said brightly, clapping my hands once. The sharp sound made them all flinch. "Then prove your loyalty. Tonight we will hold a grand feast in this very hall. Bring your families. Bring your finest treasures and your best rice wine. Let us celebrate our unity in front of everyone."
I let the smile linger as I added softly, "After all… what do loyal men have to hide?"
Later that afternoon
Mei walked beside me along the shaded path behind the hall, her silk garments whispering with every step.
"You played them like trapped mice," she said, a trace of amusement in her voice. "They were sweating more than men working under the noon sun."
"They are weak links," I muttered. "Every revolution in history has been ruined by men like them—greedy, frightened, and always ready to sell their own for the promise of keeping their small scraps of power. I will not let them open the gates for the Spanish when the real fight begins."
Pagbuaya caught up to us, still grinning from the meeting. "So? We kill them tonight? A little poison in their wine? Or maybe a quiet knife?"
I shook my head. "No. Dead martyrs are dangerous. People love a good tragedy. We need something cleaner. Something undeniable."
I stopped walking and looked at both of them.
"We need solid proof of their betrayal. And I already have a plan to get it."