Chapter 15: Battle of Bukit Panau

SOUL OF A WARRIOR
This fish isn't just a fish,

A catfish it is, the most virile;

This dance isn't just a dance,

A fighter's dance it is, the most agile.

This stalk isn't just a stalk,

A rumbia's stalk it is, of thorns sharpest;

This love isn't just a love,

A patriot's love it is, of feelings truest.

This fruit isn't just a fruit,
A pomegranate it is, the most edible;

This kneel isn't just a kneel,

A general's kneel it is, the most loyal.

This clay isn't just a clay,
An estuary's clay it is, orange of colour;

This fierceness isn't just a fierceness,

A warrior's fierceness it is, of greatest valour.

990 AD, Amdan Negara, Langkasukan Federation, the Golden Peninsula.

The Dharma Kusuma Army kept themselves well shielded within the thick jungles of the highlands of Amdan Negara. The verdantly wooded terrain acted like an impregnable fortress for them. A chain of sentries, recruited from among peasants of tested and proven unshakeable loyalty to Adhi Vira and his defenders' army, kept vigil constantly at regular intervals along all routes from outside to Gunung Batu (Stone Mountain).

While watering a vegetable bed, picking fruits or coconuts, tending to some poultry, goats or cattle, or scouring the woods for herbs or honey, they would studiously but subtly watch every stranger they encountered for any possible connection with the enemy, reporting immediately to Adhi Vira at the slightest suspicion. Any forces sent by Biduk Bota, once identified and confirmed, would be quickly targetted for booby trapping or ambush.

Exactly as planned, the last stage saw the Dharma Kusuma army split into three divisions: the Sakti Muna Dragon, the Lady of the River and the Celestial Horse, each name inspired by a character from a popular ancient local legend. Each division hunkered down patiently at their own base, waiting to launch a coordinated surprise attack on the enemy stronghold at Bukit Panau. It was to be made at dawn, well before the first rays of daybreak, setting off from five directions, on a day to be deemed the most suitable.

The Sakti Muna Dragon, comprising the hardiest battle seasoned fighters led by Adhi Vira himself with Buluh Padu and Dani Cendana assisting him, hid for two months in the jungle. They picked a site a stone's throw from a small stream and three prasanga distance, about a morning's march, behind Gemilang Sakti Palace. The palace whose name had been changed by Biduk Bota from its original name, Dharma Kusuma Palace, and made into his own residence fortress.

The Sakti Muna Dragon nested themselves in the big thickly leaved trees. During the day they slept or otherwise rested. At night they would climb down to first hunt and forage for food, then to train. If they gathered extra food, they would save it for later. Excess meat they would smear with salt and turmeric to make it keep for the next several days. The crumbs they would bury neatly in the earth, then cover up with sticks, leaves and grass. They would train in the moonlight, or the light of small torches, avoiding the use of weapons to prevent the clang and jangle of clashing metal.

Adhi Vira himself lived on a huge tualang tree easily fourty armspans tall and over four hugfuls in girth near the base. It had to be well and thoroughly smoked first to rid it of the honey bees which always liked to hive on its branches. The abandoned hives were then harvested for their honey, which his men smeared on roast yam or tapioca and barbecued fowl or mousedeer.

A small number of them had disguised themselves as ordinary peasants and gone to live and work with the villagers of Bukit Panau who were their close relatives. Each day, privately and quietly, they would observe and study the habits of Biduk Bota and his minions, especially at night. They kept this clandestine activity of theirs a closely guarded secret, even from their hosts, so as not to compromise their own security, and that of their hosts' families. Patiently, they bided their time.

All throughout that time, Adhi Vira would communicate closely with Kembang Seri Wangi and Prabhava, who were both hanging well back in their own secret hideouts in Tanah Merah. They would use animals they had trained from small to relay signals or secret messages between one another. Squirrels and homing pigeons would do their work during the day. Civets and owls would be pressed into service during the night. Foxes and wolves could be set on their way both in darkness and in light.  

§

The moon glowed in its fullest glory, its shape as perfectly round as in a painter’s piece, its gilded rim as sharp as the well honed edge of a Langkasukan warrior’s kelewang. The clouds parted before it, like court maidens parting before a princess. Bukit Panau bathed in brilliant silver light.

For a whole day and night Biduk Bota and his minions had celebrated. Indulging themselves completely in the whole variety of cultural shows and dances performed on the annual harvest festival. Now their bodies were tired, fatigue gripping them more and more by the moment, slumber inviting them into its arms. Precisely as predicted by the scouts of the Dharma Kusuma Army masquerading as local villagers up to the last moment, their reports relayed to all three divisions of their army by Adhi Vira's messenger doves.

The moment that the Dharma Kusuma Army had been waiting for was soon to arrive. The archer division, named the Lady of the River, led by Kembang Seri Wangi who was assisted by Nibung Ulung, first gathered on the opposite side of the river from Gemilang Sakti Palace. They split up further into two groups. One rowed upriver. The other paddled downriver. When they reached their launch positions, each group sat in rows by the scores of fast longboats that they had ridden and waited.

Kembang Seri Wangi had turned out to be a gifted archer. She carried her bow and quiver with her everywhere she went. Even when she slept she would not part from them, until they became like parts of her. Whatever she could aim at she would shoot when it took her fancy. A bird in the air, a fish in the water, wild game in the woods or a fruit on a tree. Until marriage and motherhood imposed on her duties that forced her to tone down her love affair with the weapon. Still, she strived to keep herself proficient.

Her prowess with the bow began to amaze her own father some months after he had begun to teach her the way of the arrow. "Besides its usefulness in hunting and fighting," she would recall him saying during one of her earliest lessons, "archery teaches us patience, poise and self-control."

Now Kembang Seri Wangi was an archer without equal. The student had surpassed the master. An arrow she aimed and loosed would regularly hit a lime-smeared kedondong fruit lofted into the air thirty armspans away. It was like she commanded the arrow to go where she wanted it to, and it obeyed her. So her leadership as commander of the Lady of the River Division did not provoke any challenge whatsoever. Under her own close tutelage, every one of her archers had now been trained to draw, aim and loose an arrow accurately every three heartbeats.

Kembang Seri Wangi stood ramrod straight, surveying the entire surroundings in the vicinity. Her fighters now lay on the ground, waiting to move as soon as the moon slipped below the horizon. It would be six spans of time it took to cook a pot of rice before the first cockerel's crow and the coming of dawn, she judged.

She had taught them to get the sleep they required even in the most dire and worrying of situations. Not sleeping well before a fight would only drain away energy and damage one's concentration, thereby giving advantage to one's enemy, she always said. But many of them could not steal even a wink now, excitement mixing with anxiety in their hearts. Some chewed on betel leaf smeared with lime, while others munched on some other relaxing or energising herb.

They knew that some among them, perhaps many, were not going to be around come the following afternoon. But their hearts were set, their minds made up, to stake their lives and fight the enemies they loathed. They did not care about the danger to themselves anymore. Thus they just kept observing, in great stillness and silence, the bright disc in the sky floating by so slowly.

§

Kenanga Sari had so wanted to be part of the archer division, the Lady of the River. It was her big dream. But Kembang Seri Wangi had another role for her now. An even more important one. While the Dharma Kusuma Army was away preparing to do battle, the last heir to the Dharma Kusuma Dynasty had to be secured the best protection. And who else could be better trusted for the job?

Adhi Vira had to draw on his persuasive best to convince Kenanga Sari that protecting Shakranta at home was as great a contribution she could make to Amdan Negara as fighting the Sumatrans in Bukit Panau. Eventually, after much pleading from him, Kenanga Sari had to acquiesce. She was given a special guard of seven archers and seven bladesmen, all trusted crack fighters who like Kenanga Sari would defend young Shakranta to their deaths. Between them, they took turns to keep watch over him day and night.

"So many people have been hovering around me all day lately, Aunt Kenanga." Shakranta complained. "I don't like this. It feels, ugh, a bit funny you know." Now approaching ten years of age, he had grown into a tall gangly youngster.

"Well, umm," Kenanga Sari searched for a comfortable answer, "because your mother and father, and also your grandfather, are all away, we didn't want you to feel lonely. So we've gathered some people to keep you company."

"But I'm not that lonely. Your company and Dika's are enough for me. And sometimes I'd rather be alone, but I can't get away from these folks. They're around me even when I sleep, have a bath at the well, or go for a swim in the stream."

Now Kenanga Sari had no other choice but to be bluntly honest with her young charge. "Tata, Prince Adhi Vira is away leading the Dharma Kusuma Army on a very important mission. The most important in his entire life. Your parents are part of that too. You are the last heir of the Dharma Kusuma Dynasty. Should anything happen to them, the gods forbid it, you will be the new leader of our kingdom in exile. Also, since our army is away, we're in a somewhat less secure than normal position here right now. That is why you need special protection. Please understand, my prince. And please bear with it, just for a little while more."

"I should be with the army, fighting with them. It's not fair."

"No, Tata," Kenanga Sari stood firm. "You're not old enough for that yet. You must learn to be patient. Your time will come."

"What if something happens to my mother, my father or my grandfather? I hear that the Sumatrans are ferocious fighters."

"Not that much more ferocious than we, Tata. They only form an image of ferocity in our minds. From their constantly vicious behaviour to our civilian population. It's something they do on purpose. To make us fear them."

"Are we any match for them?"

"Why not? They're mortals as much as we are. They're not invincible. They bleed. They die. We can best them. And we will."

"You sound so sure, Aunt Kenanga. That worries me."

"Please don't. Everything will be all right."

"How do you know?"

"It has been foretold."

"What has? By who?"

"Your mother will one day be sovereign queen of Amdan Negara. That was the prophecy of the Seer Teratai Putih. That means we will win the coming battle, for it to pave the way for the eventual restoration of our kingdom, and the return of the Dharma Kusuma Dynasty to the throne."

"You really believe in that? Folks seeing the future?"

"Yes, I do. They have their own ways. Ways that others like us might not understand. I was your mother's bosom sister, Tata. We both suckled from my mother's breasts. We grew up together, and I have been her closest friend since childhood. I have witnessed at first hand her gradual transformation from a shy child to a confident leader. It was a prophecy being fulfilled."

"If it's already all ordained, then there's no need for us to worry about anything at all then. So why all this hassle for me?"

"Tata. We always hope for the best. But we must be prepared for the worst. That is one of the golden rules of a warrior. Your grandfather taught that to me."

"Right. I'm off to the stream now. As for the guards, I'm going to race them in the water. Anyone who loses to me will be punished. For slackening and incompetence." Shakranta ambled towards the steps of the house. Three archers followed him. Four other fighters bearing kelewang, golok and keris went with them, staying close behind.

Now her charge was beginning to sound like a prince again, Kenanga Sari thought. Rediscovering his good humour too. "If they let anything happen to you, they will be punished by Prince Adhi Vira, for even greater slackening and incompetence," Kenanga Sari smiled. She would be going after them all to the stream too. In stealth. Loyalty had to be verified, from time to time.  

§

Kenanga Sari felt her heart. She stood still for a while, letting the beats fall back to their regular resting rythhm. Then she counted to three hundred beats. When she was done, she slung her bow on her back, fixed her quiver on one side of her belt, then her keris on the other, and moved in the direction that Shakranta and his guards had taken. She already knew his favourite spot on the stream, and the shortest way there.

As she passed a place two thirds of the way, she slipped into the woods on the left side of the beaten track. Moving through thick undergrowth, it took her a while to get to the stream. As soon as she saw them, she slithered her way toward them until she reached about twenty armspans away from them. Then she looked around her for a big tree with thick leaves. She found one, climbed it, hid among the leaves and watched.

Shakranta was standing on a hillock by the bank, readying himself for a dive. His guards were spread out all around him. Then she heard a rustling of leaves from somewhere in front, toward her right. She turned that way. Several small birds flew away from out of a cluster of bushes.

"Prince! Watch out!" someone yelled. It was one of the guards. Kenanga Sari turned back toward Shakranta. But he was no more there. She heard a loud splash. Then two more almost together. She saw three guards turn and charge toward their right, to the bushes where the birds had flown out from. Another two stayed by the stream.

Then she saw a figure emerge from out of the bushes. It was a man. He had a bow on him. He was walking slowly, very slowly, in the general direction of the stream. His movements looked furtive. Stealthy.

One of the guards leapt at him, bringing him down. While the two other guards stood nearby with their weapons at the ready. The man screamed and cursed as he struggled to break free. But he was easily overpowered by the guard who took him down. The other two helped their colleague hold the man down. They made him sit in a kneel, tied his hands behind his back, then started questioning him.

Then Kenanga Sari saw Shakranta trundle out of the stream, looking none the worse for what had just happened around him, followed by the other two guards, one on each side of him, both of them dripping wet in their guard's garb. Everything was fine and under control, Kenanga Sari decided. There was no need for her to intervene. She remained in hiding for a while, then climbed down silently from her vantage and made her way back.

Kenanga Sari walked briskly to reach Adhi Vira's home well before Shakranta and his guards. When they returned, she asked Shakranta about his outing at the stream. He told her everything that had happened.

The furtive looking man had actually been out hunting for fowl. He had been following a plump pheasant. The bird must have been a regular visitor to the stream, probably feeding on small fish and shrimps. It had given the hunter the slip several times, and the man had kept following it round and round the bushes.

When the fowl came back toward the stream, the man had stalked it again until finally he thought he had a good aim when it perched on top of a shrub, then had loosed his arrow. The bird had flown away at the last moment, and the man's arrow had continued in the general direction of Shakranta. The prince had happened to make his dive moments before the arrow sailed near him. It would have missed him anyway.

Shakranta's guards had responded exactly as they should. They had assumed that it was a deliberate attack on him. The two nearest the young prince had immediately jumped into the water after him, got to him fast, and shielded him with their bodies. The other five had surged of the area to deal with whatever threat that had suddenly arisen. Three of them had sprinted toward the place where they thought the arrow had come from, while the other two had remained by the stream bank to guard against any possible further danger to Shakranta. 

 

§ 

The second half of her teens Kembang Seri Wangi had spent listening to the legendary exploits of the Lady of the River of ancient myth, dreaming of the day she would be a great warrioress like her. Now she was leading a squadron of crack archers named after her youthhood heroine, poised to spring the first stage of the surprise attack by the Dharma Kusuma Army on the enemy. That the object of her adoration was only a figure of fantasy did not bother her. There must have been a real person behind the legend, she reasoned.

She had pestered her father, when they agreed to the formation for the Dharma Kusuma Army's final assault on Bukit Panau, to name the three divisions after the three leading characters of the legend of Sejahtera Pura. It would, she had argued, help rouse the greatest intensity of passion and inspiration among their fighters come the time for the final reckoning. Adhi Vira had at first thought it trivial. But eventually, mindful of Teratai Putih the Seer's prophecy about his daughter's ultimate destiny, Adhi Vira had at last acceded to her request.

Kembang Seri Wangi herself had learnt from an old hermit the secret of calming down a restless heart and gaining a clear and sharp focus. By ceasing all bodily movement, then slowing down all thought or imagination playing in one's mind, letting it flow freely without force or constraint, like water flowing naturally. That wisdom, which she had once frowned upon as something strange and frivolous, now felt so precious to her. At last, the moment she had been waiting for finally came.

§

The initial assault on Gemilang Sakti Palace was made by the Lady of the River Division from across the river. As planned, the main force split into two and attacked from two directions. One from upstream, led by Kembang Seri Wangi herself, the other from downstream, commanded by Nibung Ulung.

Kembang Seri Wangi's force landed upriver of the palace, while that of Nibung Ulung landed down downriver. Thus the two forces advanced toward Gemilang Sakti Palace from two opposite directions.

While every boat of Biduk Bota's side had been untied and brought upstream across the river earlier on, by local boatmen allied to the defenders' army, and delivered to Kembang Seri Wangi moments before she made her move.

The guards supposed to be on the watch in the row of watch towers fronting Gemilang Sakti Palace, and around the balcony and lobby of the palace were now either leaning sleepily on the walls and railings nearest to them and yawning away for all they were worth, or already lying flat on the floors, deep in slumber. They were all stuffed up, stoned drunk and exhausted after a full day and night of unbridled fun and revelry.

Having downed many cupak of tuak, the local coconut wine, then indulged themselves in an orgy of lust with some local girls whom they had captured then turned by force into their private entertainers and comfort women, their bodies were now spent and drained of energy. They belched and farted continuously, even as they slept. Many of them vomitted in large quantities.

§

Using a powerful longbow, Kembang Seri Wangi loosed an arrow high up to fall near Nibung Ulung's squadron. The arrow's tail had a shiny tail feather of a fighting cockerel tied to it. It was the final signal between them to begin their simultaneous arrow attack. Nibung Ulung answered it in like manner, confirming his group's readiness. Both then made a hand gesture mimicking the loosing of an arrow, to the squadron under their lead, at a distance of fourty armspans from the row of watch towers nearest to them, on either side of Gemilang Sakti Palace.

Three hundred archers stood sideways, nocked their arrow to their bow, held the bow firmly with one hand, then drew the bowstring with three fingers of their other hand up to their near eye. Squinting their other eye, they aimed, then loosed. Three hundred bows sang, the strum of their strings caressing the ears. Three hundred arrows ripped through the air, a hundred and fifty each whooshing from two opposite directions, their sounds stimulating and also scaring.

Signal upon signal came. With every signal, three hundred bowstrings danced, three hundred arrows flew. Shower upon shower of arrows rained through the air, the arrowheads seeking, finding, stabbing and penetrating bodies standing but sleeping. One by one, the bodies lurched, stumbled, staggered and fell, occassionally accompanied by loud screams and cries.

Some of the enemy fighters woke up to the blood curdling sounds of a colleague's screams. They dashed out of their locations to give a fight. But the rain of arrows from the Lady of the River Division gave them no quarter. One by one they fell and bit the dust.

Biduk Bota staggered out of the palace into the serambi, accompanied by Demak Sawo and Kebo Laro. "What the ... blooming heck ... is going on?" the Palembangian governor bellowed between massive belches and farts. A barrage of arrows answered him, sending the three scuttling back inside.

As they advanced the Lady of the River Division continued to aim, loose and slay. Their arrows kept showering the Sumatrans thick, fast and relentless, like long pent up rain now poured forth from the angry storm clouds. The wails and screams of their struck enemies only spurred them on, their hearts excited and emboldened by the spirit of the warrior now fizzing and frothing in them.

The enemy was now in total disarray, their movements chaotic and disordered. The main objective of the Lady of the River Division had now been achieved. Their task had been fulfilled to near perfection.

§

The Sakti Muna Dragon then came sweeping down from the thickly wooded hills. Each fighter generously imbued with the spirit of the warrior, their frenzied war screams reverberated around the entire Bukit Panau, sending chills down the spines of their now heavily disorganised enemies. Panic seized the Sumatrans, overwhelming them with the primordial urge to just flee from harm. But they were surrounded on all sides and there was nowhere for them to run, and for some moments they simply froze from fright.

With great ferocity the Sakti Muna Dragon fell upon and tore into the now outsurging enemy fighters hurtling helter skelter out of Gemilang Sakti Palace and the nearby soldiers' barracks. Slashing, cutting, stabbing, hacking anything moving that came their way. There was neither time nor space for Biduk Bota's men to form up and make a proper stand. The Dragon made sure they did not get either.

This was never meant to be a traditional full-frontal battle, which would only have favoured the much stronger side. No engagement rules, no lines on the ground, no battle horns, no war flutes. Just the grunts, growls and roars of invading warriors seeking to kill, and the screams and wails of their stricken foes. It was a lightning attack intended to decimate a numerically vastly superior enemy completely before they had recovered from their shock. Many enemy fighters were slain before they even knew what was going on, swaying and staggering as they muddled out, bewildered and rubbing their eyes in the stupour of disturbed sleep and drunken hangover.

The remnants of Biduk Bota's army were now in complete anarchy. Oh well, they could still put up a fight, but there was no method or direction in their fight back. They were still in shock when the Celestial Horse came galloping along the river banks from either side of Gemilang Sakti Palace which fronted the river.

The eclectic battalion of well-trained battle beasts quickly filled up the place like a tidal wave rushing up a rivermouth. In short order, the band of fighters on ponies, oxen, water buffalo and seladang, ferocious men armed to their teeth, led by Prabhava and assisted by Pinang Jingga, tore into the remnants of the enemy who had somehow slipped through the tightening net of the Dharma Kusuma Army. Like an angry stallion the Celestial Horse pounced, slamming into, crushing, trampling and cutting down any enemy fighters who came within reach. It was the final slaughter.

The scrambling Sumatrans were whacked, slashed, cut and stabbed with efficient skill. Those among them who stumbled and fell were trampled and crushed beneath the animals' hooves. The beasts themselves went berserk, they had caught the frenzy of battle too. After years of fighting training, they were now unleashing and displaying their awesome ability to destroy.

Just before the Celestial Horse had appeared for the final coup de grace, the Lady of the River and the Sakti Muna Dragon had opened up to make way for their killer charge. Now they closed up their ranks again, in concert, sewing up the enemy army between them. Any enemy fighter who had managed to break loose from the charge of the Celestial Horse was still not spared his life. For, arrayed against him, or trained on him, were the blades of the Sakti Muna Dragon or the arrows of the Lady of the River.

Suddenly Nibung Ulung broke away from the melee and raced up the palace staircase into the main building, his eyes now smouldering with battle fury. His cousin Pinang Jingga, the more thoughtful of the two, followed closely on his heels.

"Stop it, Nibung!" Pinang Jingga shouted as he ran. "Get a hold of yourself! You won't stand a chance alone against him."

"We'll see about that," Nibung Ulung retorted. "His skin is not steel. And I have to avenge the killings of my mother and father. If I must die doing that, so I will."

"Very well then, me too," Pinang Jingga replied. "Then I'm coming with you, Cousin. We will fight him together." 

Kembang Seri Wangi saw them and told her father quickly. Adhi Vira immediately went after them, Prabhava following behind him. Adhi Vira could half guess what was on the two youngsters' minds, and he did not want their raw emotions to be their ultimate undoing. By his own experienced judgement, they would yet be no match for the man he thought they would be seeking. But nevertheless he admired them for their bravery.

Nibung Ulung swayed to avoid a hastily hurled spear. Loping his way forward in zig-zagging manner, he struck the spear thrower down heavily with a leaping spinning roundhouse kick against his jaw, then buried his badik deep in the man's throat as he lay spread-eagled on the floor. Pinang Jingga ducked a poorly loosed arrow. As he charged at the archer the man thrust out a shining kelewang toward his chest. Pinang Jingga dropped low and swung out his left foot against the man's feet, sweeping his legs out from under him, then rose and smashed his right foot against the man's neck even as he was falling down, cracking his neck bones.

A big Sumatran swinging a club charged at Prabhava. As he swung his club up high, Prabhava whipped a left footed flick kick at the man's right ribcage to distract him. The Sumatran moved fast and captured Prabhava's foot. Prabhava jerked his leg back in, making the man stumble forward, then slammed his left elbow into the man's face. He followed up immediately with a powerful head butt, stunning his attacker and making him drop his club. Then Prabhava shoved his still trapped left leg out again, and as his stubborn foe was grappling awkwardly with it, leapt high and slammed a thunderous right foot into the man's head. The Sumatran swooned, then fell like a sack of rice.

Then they saw the man they were looking for. That abominable ogre. He was just slipping out of the main building by way of the anjung, accompanied by his two closest right hand men, to join the battle outside on the ground below. The three quickly disappeared out of sight in the wild mass of the fighting crowd.

Swords, lances, golok and kelewang struck the Sumatrans. The near ones were stabbed or slashed with keris, badik, kerambit or dagger. The ones farther away were struck with spears or shot with arrows. Hooves and feet pounded and pummelled the soggy earth into a bog.

Not one to just hold back and watch, Kembang Seri Wangi was constantly in the thick of the fray, despite the urgings of her father and her husband to keep well away from the heaviest fighting. One moment she seemed to float and glide like a swan, parrying or side-stepping a thrust, or backing away out of reach of a cut. The next she would be swooping and pouncing like an eagle, stabbing or slicing an enemy hapless enough to connect with her blade.

§

Adhi Vira's offer to his two adopted sons, Pinang Jingga and Nibung Ulung to co-lead their respective groups were gladly taken up by both. It was a gift horse neither of them would look in the mouth. Their parents had so suffered at the hands of Biduk Bota. It was the least they could do to salve their long suffered bitterness. That episode of their childhood would live with them forever.

The initial results of the surprise assault by the Dharma Kusuma Army surprised the defenders themselves. The planning had been meticulous, certainly, but the outcome exceeded all expectations.

The Dharma Kusuma Army had predicted stiff resistance. In the end, a large part of Biduk Bota's army was destroyed when their fighters fled out of the grounds of Gemilang Sakti Palace in complete chaos and confusion. It became pure slaughter.

A tough training regimen, comprehensive preparation and adequate weaponry had combined to achieve a spectacular victory. Not a little credit was also due to the high morale of the Dharma Kusuma Army, whose fighters had, to no small degree, been brought up on and inspired by the legendary exploits of the original, mythical versions of the Sakti Muna Dragon, the Lady of the River and the Celestial Horse.

Even so, the clang of weapons reverberated across the entire palace grounds. Blade struck blade, stab met slash, swing countered parry. Their sounds mixed with the growls, roars and grunts of warriors. The crescendo of noise carried across the river.

A strike was evaded, a stab parried, an attack countered. Even a shield came in handy as a weapon, to whack an enemy's face or head, or to strike and break his neck. Bodies lay everywhere. Blood flowed and puddled. The air stank with the smell of blood, urine, excrement and vomit from injured and fallen warriors.

Such was the dreadful scene of a real battlefield. Neither pretty nor elegant, like composed by scribes or sang by minstrels, but ugly, noisy, frightening, dirty, cruel and disgusting. It was a sore for the eyes, a reek for the nose, a pain for the ears.

§

"Oh Adhi Vira!" the powerful voice of Biduk Bota echoed across the grounds. "Now I am left with no choice, but to acknowledge and admire the great feat that has been performed by your rebel army."

"So now comes time for you and the remnants of your occupier army, those who are still alive, to surrender to me, before you're all tortured and killled indiscriminately by my army," replied Adhi Vira. "I shall chain you all and throw you into the prison house, before we all decide the appropriate punishment for each of you."

"No, Adhi Vira," Biduk Bota countered. "It won't be that simple. We're Palembangians. A Palembangian warrior does not submit that easily. So now, in front of all the people, I, Biduk Bota, the Lord of the River, challenge you and your men to individual combat.  Five of your best against five of mine. To the winner go all the spoils. If you lose, I win everything. Including that beautiful daughter of yours."

"Hey you!"  Prabhava roared. "You slimy bastard whoreson! She's my wife. Better watch that stinking shitshooting mouth of yours."

"Shut your bloody arse up, Bhangali dog!" the Sumatran governor roared back. "You pitiful, scavenging wanderer. Someone as pathetic as you don't deserve a woman like her. She's too good for you!"

Then he turned to Adhi Vira. "And you, Prince Adhi Vira, Chieftain Jati Perkasa, Lord of the Mountain. If you're half as good a warrior as you've been hyped up to be, if you and your captains are real men with balls, then accept my challenge!"

"My husband is more than good enough for me, actually," Kembang Seri Wangi slung her bow on her back. "I wouldn't ever wish for any other man to take his place. Let alone someone with a special penchant for hurting poor defenceless women." Biduk Bota's cheeks and ears reddened.

"And he is certainly no pitiful, scavenging wanderer like you've ever imagined," Kembang Seri Wangi took off her helmet. "On the contrary, General Prabhava has contributed much time, energy and resources towards building up the Dharma Kusuma Army, the results of our combined efforts you have just had the special privilege of witnessing." Biduk Bota's face now burned with heated blood.

"Shucks!" Nibung Ulung shook his head. "I don't believe this. That man is insane. Wangi is right. And what woman would want a vicious ugly ape like him anyway?"

"Honestly, I just don't have a clue," Pinang Jingga shrugged. "Know what I think? Not even an ogress would agree to be his bride."

Biduk Bota revelled in his name, which meant Ogre's Ship. It was a moniker given to him by friends from his younger days on account of his immense stature. But the locals of Amdan Negara had their own derogatory name for him, Bapak Bota, which meant Father Ogre.

"Or maybe she might," Buluh Padu slipped in, "just out of regard for kinship!" Kembang Seri Wangi turned away, struggling hard to suppress an amused smile. The Sumatran bristled with anger. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

Adhi Vira, his deputy Prabhava and his three young captains looked at one another.

"Father," Prabhava pleaded. "There is no need for us to dignify this mad murderer with the honour of individual combat. We can just manacle him and his minions all up and lock them up in the barracks. Then we just execute them tomorrow."

"That easy, you think?" Biduk Bota challenged.

"Yes, Father," Pinang Jingga weighed in. "Bhava is right. The man is completely nuts. We don't need to negotiate anything with that pukesack anymore."

"Don't you make the mistake of trying to arrest me, Adhi Vira," Biduk Bota warned. "I won't be giving in without a fight, you can count on that. If I'm going down, then I'll take at least several of your men down with me. Your best and bravest men, let me remind you. Including that Bhangali dog of yours, if it comes to it. It's your choice." 

Adhi Vira knew it was not an empty threat. The big Sumatran was crazy enough, and ferocious enough, to do what he said he would. Although he reckoned that Prabhava would be more than a good match for Biduk Bota.

"You know, Biduk Bota," Adhi Vira responded. "My daughter's sharpshooters could bury a thousand arrows in you in just a few heartbeats."

"But that would be a most cowardly way to kill a lone defeated enemy," Biduk Bota countered. "It would not be very good for your reputation, or that of your future offspring for that matter. Your progeny would forever be called a dynasty of cowards. How would they then have the gall to rule over a land called Kingdom of the Valiant? That's if they ever get their throne back, by the way. I shall be immortalised in legend as a brave hero, while you will always be remembered as a dastardly coward."

"Nice try, islander," Adhi Vira sneered. "But frankly speaking, I couldn't care less. Apart from that, no vicious monstrous killer in all the history of Amdan Negara has ever been revered anything near as much as you would like to imagine, or indeed, ever been revered at all." Then Adhi Vira turned to his captains.

"Prabhava! Pinang Jingga!" Adhi Vira roared. "Do you still harbour any doubts about my ability? And yours?"

"No, Father," Nibung Ulung replied immediately. "Not me, I don't. Not at all. I would love to fight him myself. Between the two of us, we have some unfinished business to settle."

Biduk Bota gazed at Nibung Ulung. The youth's face did not jog any special memory for him. He had killed and maimed so many people in his life. So many others from among their kith and kin would have had an axe to grind with him. He never had any time for wimpy bleeding hearts like them. Never lost any sleep over their tragedies or sufferings.

"Very well then, Biduk Bota," Adhi Vira turned to his arch-enemy. "With all the people here right now, and the mountains, the hills, the rivers and the winds in this valley bearing witness, I hereby accept your challenge to individual combat. Today, the people of Bukit Panau will watch the last reckoning between the Lord of the Mountain and the Lord of the River."

"Prabhava! Nibung Ulung! Pinang Jingga! Buluh Padu! Prepare yourselves for combat!" Adhi Vira bellowed his command.

For Adhi Vira, there was not much to choose between Buluh Padu and Dani Cendana as the first combatant. The two were just about equal in all aspects. But Adhi Vira went for Buluh Padu on account of his several years seniority in age. He did not want Dani Cendana to falter from juvenile over-exuberance. Dani was still young. His time would come.