WARBRINGERS: Revenge and Revolution

CORPSE UNDER A TRAP DOOR

CORPSE UNDER A TRAP DOOR

Every morning of Suliana’s life would start with her father telling her to get married. These conversations usually end with her saying that it should happen the way she wanted it to happen, and not because she was forced to do it.

“So, what do you want?” her father Thamos said after he sipped a cup of hot Cantatan coffee. They were chatting on the breakfast table. On it, there are platters of ham and cheese, Cantata’s favorite food. “You finished your studies about handling finances, but you’re not applying to any job openings.”

“Cause I think it’s unfair that I would not be paid as much as men.”

[And besides, we have a lot of money already. You’re a doctor.]

Suliana sipped her coffee, before adding, “Akir, I just don’t like to get married to Jonson.”

Jonson was the son of Akir Thamos’s best friend--Hanu. Her father and Hanu had always talked about pushing the both of them to get married. Suliana didn’t want it, cause one, Jonson smelled like he thinks taking a bath is a mortal sin. Two, Jonson likes King Doroteo so much that even though he wasn’t her boyfriend, he was asking her to change her nose. And she’d rather the sky god strike her with lightning than have an oily bulbous nose.

“You’re twenty-eight. You need to have undergone saklub.”

“Well, I don’t want Jonson to be my saklub. No.” She made a face because the thought was more bitter than coffee.

In Cantata, women are born with powers. The source of their power is nature: the beautiful flowers, the hard earth, the calm but dangerous sea. They can also use trees, insects, and the wind as a power source. Every woman has this ability, aside from female krills.

Saklub is a process in which a woman will pledge her loyalty to one man and in the process, give up her innate powers so that the husband will be “superior” to her because that’s how elemental gods wanted it to be.

And Suliana wanted Gon to be his saklub.

“Jonson is a nice man, amira,” said Akir Thamos.

“He smells like cattle,” she said, then sucked her lip in. The conversation made her want to smoke.

“Cattles are useful,” said Akir Thamos.

“Not if you have to sleep with them,” she said.

“Suliana!” Her akir was horrified. He put down the cup of coffee, breathed hard so he can begin his sermon. “Cantatans will not like it if you turn thirty without undergoing saklub. You know King Doroteo thinks it is dangerous for a woman to not suppress her power. I don’t agree with that, but I believe that a woman should still be a man’s obligation. So you have to someone’s wife. What do you want to do in life anyway?”

“I can be a wife, but I can be something else, too. Someone more. I can be a writer. I write poems.”

“Ever heard of a man or a woman who got rich because of writing poems?”

“Well… no.”

“Cause it’s the job for the cuckoos.”

Suliana raised her brow and also raised a finger. “It’s not about being rich, akir. We are rich already. I don’t want to just be a wife. Jonson is the type of man who wants his saklub to be a prim and proper woman and that’s not who I am.”

“That’s who you should be. Being a wife is the best job in this world, believe me.”

“Really, have you tried it?” she said.

Akir Thamos massaged the space between his eyes. “You’re not taking this seriously, amira,” he said.

Suliana didn’t say anything and just looked at the window of their house. The ray of morning sunshine went through the glass and illuminated dancing specks of dust, circling above her father’s head. He sighed and shook his head before looking at her intently.

“Please don’t tell me you want Gon to be your saklub.”

Suliana felt as if words left her.

“You know that a krill can’t have a saklub. Their destiny is to serve the kingdom. And you know that they are only allowed to mate with another krill.”

Suliana’s heart sank. It was true. The laws of Cantata won’t allow Gon to marry her. Not that Gon wanted to.

“I am just saying Suliana that if you are holding a torch for a krill, you’re going to get your heartbroken,” her akir said with concern. “I don’t want that for you. I’m a doctor and even I don’t know the cure for a broken heart.”

“You know what, akir, between you and me, you should be the poet,” she said. “And I’d rather have a broken heart than a nose that’s always wrinkled because of a husband that smells like cattle.”

“Suli--”

“I’m done, akir. I will excuse myself to the table.”

But before Suliana can even stand up, a low sound of a horn was heard. Suddenly color drained from her face and from her akir’s too. They looked at each other with horrified look on their faces. The sound of the horn continued, like an ominous presence approaching. Suliana clutched the edge of the table.

“Someone’s dead,” Suliana said, saying it out loud brought chills on her whole body.

“And we need to go and see who it is,” said his father, the folds on his face seemed to have gone deeper.

THE HEART of Cantata is the market, it buzzes with life and feeds on senseless need. In it, you can buy everything you can imagine buying. You can buy books, food, liquor, dresses, s*x toys. The market is an assault to the senses--stalls are colorful, the haggling loud, and the smell is a nauseating mix between curry, dried fish, and rubber.

But this morning, everyone didn’t roam to see the stores and to buy something. The people of Cantata went to that big space beyond the market because they have to listen to King Doroteo’s announcement.

Not every Cantatans was there. Most of the announcements of the king are delivered to the far parts of Cantata by the amolohokan or the kingdom criers. They are tasked to echo the announcement of the king to people who haven’t heard it. But the people who were there at the market were enough to make the morning warm and nasty.

Suliana and her dad were in front, getting pushed by those people behind them. The sour smell of sweat was evident. Suliana can also smell the breath of the old woman beside her. It smelled like raw chicken.

At the center of the ground, there was a huge platform. It’s made of wood and it is big enough to occupy King Doroteo and Barry.

King Doroteo was in the corner of the platform, sitting on a chair with eyes half-closed perhaps of sleeplessness. Barry was at the left part of the platform, looking at Cantatans.

Barry was the one in charge of the king’s announcements. Barry was an overweight man with small eyes and rabbit front teeth. His forehead was always shiny and his chin was always wagging when he talked.

Barry held a shingku to his mouth and spoke. “Good morning, beautiful people of Cantatans.” His eyes wandered around the market. His smile exposed his yellowish teeth. He looked so smugly satisfied. “This is indeed a good morning, do you know why?”

It was a stupid question. Cantatans knew the answer already.

“A rebel has been killed.”

Everyone started talking in hushed voices. Suliana could hear the word “who” most often. She swallowed a lump on her throat and looked at the rectangular trapdoor on the platform. King Doroteo liked to ask the soldiers to put a rebel’s corpse under that trapdoor and open it slowly to reveal the dead body. They did this just for show.

“I have to say though that our soldiers didn’t kill this woman,” said Barry. “It was the rebels who killed one of their own.”

The voices of Cantatans became louder when they heard the word, “woman”. Suliana’s heart began to race. It couldn’t be, could it? It had been only a week since that stoning. It was highly unlikely that Camia was the corpse nailed under the trapdoor.

“But still, we need to give honor to our soldiers. Let’s applaud their bravery to keep us safe from rebels.”

The Cantatans clapped their hands, and the few soldiers that were there controlling the crowd seemed to smile with pride.

“Anyway I know that’s not why you’re all here. You are here to see who was stupid enough to get involved with rebels, to threaten the peace of Cantata,” said Barry. He was more passionate now so his chin wiggled like a flag on a windy day. Spit was accumulating on the corners of his fat dark lips. “So now, we are excited to present to you the Millos rebel who got what she deserved last night.”

Barry raised his hands and that was the cue of the soldiers operating the chains of the trapdoor. They pulled the chains hard that it rattled and then the trapdoor was slowly lifted from its frame. The soldiers grunted and kept on pulling, slowly raising the door like a flag. The people around Suliana were talking fast with anticipation. Her heart was knocking on her chest like a fist on a door.

And the door was raised enough for Suliana to see the pale figure of a woman nailed to the door as if it was a cross. Her ghoulish body has traces of blood on it, which made it look like a map of misery, full of streets of pain. Her head was down, her chin on her chest and her silver hair cascaded down, obscuring her face.

But Suliana thought that the built and the complexion of the corpse was similar to Camia’s. Some of the corpse’s hair was matted with blood but it looked like Camia’s hair, the hair she pulled jokingly numerous times when they were still children.

She bit her lip and tried to convince herself it’s impossible.

The door was now fully raised. Barry walked near the corpse, picked a spear on the floor and with utmost cruelty, used the tip of the spear on the dead body’s forehead to push its head, revealing its face.

Suliana’s knees buckled upon seeing Camia’s milky dead eyes staring at the void, her mouth hanging, and her bluish tongue lolling out of it like a tail of a dead animal.