The Priestess Trials Trilogy Box Set: An Asian Myth and Legend Series

by AA Lee

  One man kicked his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. His knees buckled, but when his hands touched the floor, he felt the hilt of his fallen bolo knife. When the man to his right made a move, Kisig thrust the knife at him. The man caught his arm, and they wrestled for the weapon. Kisig pinned the man down. He brought the bolo knife down, but the man pushed his hand upward, his strength matching Kisig’s.

  A sharp pain to his left shoulder stole his focus and energy. Warm blood trickled from the wound.

  “No! We’re not supposed to—”

  Light filled the doorway. The three men dashed outside but were trapped by spears and Kisig’s guards.

  “Datu, you’re bleeding!” Hagibis held a blinding torch. He rushed to Kisig’s side to look at his wound. “Fortunately, it’s not deep, but we have to stop the bleeding.” Hagibis held a piece of cloth, as if he’d been prepared. He pressed it to Kisig’s shoulder with such force that Kisig thought the official had stabbed him. Kisig grimaced, but he clenched his fists to stop himself from prying the official’s hand away.

  “Get the head warrior!” Hagibis barked orders to the guards surrounding them.

  “No! We have enough men here. I don’t think they meant to kill me, or I would be dead by now. Call the healer instead.”

  Bantay, his head guard saluted and disappeared. Kisig didn’t see any of the guards on duty. He prayed they were still alive. “Start the interrogation right away. I want to know who’s behind this.” Kisig suspected Hagibis’s involvement based on how prepared he was to treat Kisig’s wound, but Kisig had no proof. He needed the assassins to speak.

  The healer dashed to Kisig’s room with her cloth bag. Despite her old age, she moved swiftly. She glanced at his wound and untied her bag. “It’s not deep.” Sagip, the village healer, grabbed his arm when Hagibis let go of him. She poured an orange liquid on his wound and applied a poultice. “It would be best if you don’t use your strength for the next few days.”

  “Thanks, Sagip.” The pain started to subside.

  “Anything for you, Datu. I will check on you tomorrow. You should get some sleep.”

  Kisig ignored the healer’s suggestion. When she and Hagibis left, he went to check the guards on duty. His chest tightened when he saw blood at the main door. Soldiers had loaded the dead bodies on carts, probably to bring them back to their families. All Kisig could do was stare at them in anguish and, perhaps, give them a decent burial with beautiful words to comfort their loved ones. Countless questions pestered him as he wondered why they had to die. The assassins weren’t intent on killing him. They could have done so the moment they’d entered his room.

  “Follow me!” His voice was as hard as steel. Fists clenched, he marched to the prison, his personal guards surrounding him in a tight circle. When he arrived at the gate, the prison guards averted their gaze.

  “Datu, we have a problem.” Head Warrior Bagsik’s thick brows drew closer together. The man’s long hair was tied into a ponytail, and his beard was scruffy, as though he’d never bothered trimming it. If Kisig’s father hadn’t disappeared nine years ago, he would have been as old as the head warrior.

  “It can wait. I want to see the assassins now!”

  “The thing is…”

  “What? I want to see them.”

  “They’re all dead.”

  “What in the world are you talking about? I ordered the soldiers to interrogate them, not kill them.” Kisig could think of only one explanation for why they had to die—the mastermind didn’t want them to talk.

  “They were shot on the way here. When I arrived, they were all dead.”

  “Let me see them.” Kisig strode forward, not caring when he bumped the bulky head warrior’s shoulder. Four men lay in a row outside the wooden prison cells, arrows piercing their bodies. Kisig knelt beside the first man, removed the cloth covering his face, and put the back of his hand under the man’s nose. He then pressed his fingers against the man’s neck to feel for a pulse. He moved on to the second man and did the same. By the time he was finished with the third man, his shoulders sagged with disappointment. Kisig searched the prison walls. With the barracks surrounding them, the only reasonable explanation he could think of was that some warriors were against him and had taken the men’s lives.

  “There is something weird about these men.”

  “What is it, Datu?” The head warrior leaned forward and looked at the dead men.

  “I thought someone in the village would be the culprit, but I haven’t seen these men before.

  Chapter 5

  Tala

  Tala fidgeted as she sat waiting on the hut’s narrow veranda. She had never worn anything between her legs before, and it took all her effort to stop scratching for fear of potential suitors seeing her. She wanted to throw the cloth away, but she didn’t want blood to stain Diwata’s dress given to her by her master that morning. The pristinely white cloth painted with red roses just above the hem made her more cautious. The stain would make her look undesirable to her future husband.

  Early that morning, her master and mistress had carried Luning’s body to the mountain to bury her. Tala had mustered her courage and didn’t cry to avoid puffy eyes. She couldn’t afford face powder to make her paler. She also had no idea how other women managed to make their brows look neat without hurting themselves. She had planned to gather a rose or atsuete seeds to bring color to her lips, but she had no time, so the best she could do was look clean.

  How can I be tired just from sitting down? she wondered as she stretched her body. She hoped her master would ask a lot of money for his daughters’ dowries. Then she would have a higher chance of meeting more suitors.

  Using her hand as a shield, she looked up at the sky. It’s finally past noon. Time is awfully slow. Tala had been waiting impatiently and imagining her married life since dawn, but no suitor had come to see her yet. She stood, stretched the wrinkled hem, and looked at the back of her dress to make sure she hadn’t accidentally stained it.

  She sat down at once upon hearing voices from the kitchen facing the hut. She straightened her back as a man and a woman approached, walking behind her master and mistress.

  The man appeared to be in his fifties. He was tall, but his protruding belly made Tala conclude that he must love staying in the house and letting his wife do the work. Tala wondered if he was rich enough to buy game because his bulky physique didn’t tell her that he hunted on his own. She did her best not to hide her face but kept her eyes down when he came closer.

  The fat man stepped forward, blocking her view of the rest. “She looks okay… but her skin is way too dark, and what’s with her hair? Is she a slave?”

  “She helped my wife on the farm for a while,” her master replied. “She’s not really a slave. We’ve raised her as our daughter since we brought her from Daa.”

  The fat man shook his head. “People will think I’m poor. Perhaps, if she manages to whiten her skin a bit after a month, I will buy her.” Then he walked away.

  That’s it? She wanted to tell him to look at her carefully. Just a little longer… She wanted to tell him to take her and that she didn’t need to be bought, but she realized the decision wasn’t up to her.

  Her master stepped closer to the man until they were just inches apart. “If you take her, her skin will become paler if she stays inside for a month. Her hair will reach her shoulders in no time.”

  Even Tala could hear the desperation in her master’s voice.

  “And if her skin stays the same?”

  “Then you can return her.”

  “I would rather wait. Thank you for having us in your house today. I’ll leave the food and gifts we brought.”

  Tala’s heart sank. The woman whom she assumed was the fat man’s wife lingered and looked her up and down. For a moment, she thought the woman would convince the man, but she walked away like the rest without looking back.

  Tala slouched and put her hands on her sides. She hadn’t noticed that she�
�d been clasping them tightly the whole time. More men looked at her after the first couple. Some tried to negotiate the dowry, but most of them turned their backs without further discussion after seeing her.

  Tala started losing hope as the sun snuck behind the mountain. Even though the courtship wasn’t over yet, her experience told her she might not be able to escape slavery.

  Voices from the kitchen interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see a tall man with skin as dark as coal. He looked like he’d bathed in oil the way he glistened against the remaining light.

  Tala’s heart raced. She knew the man. Most of the villagers did. He was a famous warrior and an excellent hunter. Kidlat was also notorious for beating his wives. He had married three times. All three women had turned up dead within a few months.

  Tala had thought her master had only invited people from other villages to look at her. She didn’t understand why the warrior was willing to see her when he knew she was a slave.

  Anyone but him, Tala prayed. She slouched and bowed her head to look undesirable. She had the impulse to change to her old dress, but it was too late. Kidlat stood right in front of the hut. He squatted on the ground and reached out to touch her face. She stared back at his piercing eyes like a scared puppy.

  “Perfect!” If she hadn’t known the man, she would have fallen for his husky voice. He turned to her master. “I’ll bring her home after she finishes her monthly visit.”

  Tala looked at her mistress, pleading with her eyes for Mistress Bituin to save her. Her mistress dry-washed her hands.

  “And the payment? I want to make sure you didn’t forget her price. That’s not negotiable.” Master Langit crossed his arms, his voice devoid of emotion. Tala couldn’t tell if he didn’t care if she died or if he was trying to hide the fact that he knew of Kidlat’s cruelty.

  “I prepared for this. I don’t mean to insult you, but I have enough money for your daughter’s dowry… I want her.” He pointed at Tala.

  Tala knew he wanted her because nobody would look for her if she died. Master Langit shook his head gently, sending a ray of hope to Tala. He turned away from her with a blank expression. “Let’s get back inside.”

  After both men had turned their backs, Tala failed to hold back her tears. “Mistress, I will work harder. I will make money.” She sniffed. “I am fast. I will make more money than what he will pay. Just not him.”

  “You don’t get it.” Mistress Bituin seemed defeated. “I can’t do anything. Even your master can’t do anything now. If we back out, our honor will be in question.”

  “But… but.” That stupid honor, she wanted to say. My life is more important.

  “Do everything he asks of you, then you won’t get hurt.”

  “But all his wives turned up dead.”

  “I have to go.” Mistress Bituin fled from the conversation.

  Tala was left alone to think about her deplorable life. She hadn’t enjoyed a moment of it. She thought she was too young to die. Her mind raced. She needed to escape, but she had nowhere to go. Then she remembered the high priestess. There was a place for her. The only problem was, she didn’t know if she was going to pass the Priestess Trials. The high priestess would surely be in trouble if she accepted Tala. And if the high priestess refused to take her because of Kidlat, she would end up in his hands again.

  She stayed in the hut, brainstorming a perfect way to escape for three days. By the third night, she knew she had no sure way to escape. She would have to gamble her life if she wanted to live.

  Chapter 6

  Kisig

  “How are you feeling, Datu?” Hagibis’s fresh face seemed to mock Kisig’s pounding head. He hadn’t slept well since the attack.

  “I could use a few more hours of sleep.”

  “You should have asked Sagip to give you a sleeping potion.” Hagibis turned to Ganda, his daughter who stayed at Kisig’s house as one of his attendants. She wasn’t a slave but a candidate to be Kisig’s wife along with four daughters of other officials. “Will you give us some privacy? And make sure no one else enters until I leave. This is about the datu’s safety.”

  Ganda bowed and exited Kisig’s room with muted steps.

  “How’s your shoulder?” Hagibis stepped closer, his eyes fixed on Kisig’s poultice.

  “It’ll heal in no time.” Despite Kisig’s effort to still himself, his voice wavered.

  In a low voice that Kisig had dreaded since he was a kid, Hagibis said, “Disappoint me again, and next time, it won’t be a simple threat.” He grabbed Kisig’s shoulder and squeezed.

  People died just to threaten me? Kisig gritted his teeth. His head spun, and for a moment, he thought he would lose consciousness. Hagibis let go of his shoulder, to his relief. He slumped forward, as if the pain had taken all his strength.

  “If you ever try to play tricks in front of the officials again, you will regret it.” Hagibis stepped back as someone knocked.

  “I have to check the datu’s wound.” Healer Sagip peeked around the partially open door.

  Hagibis nodded. “I think he needs a sleeping potion. The boy was too traumatized about what happened and couldn’t sleep.”

  “I figured he would need some. I shouldn’t have waited this long.”

  “Please take care of our village datu.” Hagibis patted Sagip’s shoulder like she was his younger sister. Sagip nodded slightly in response.

  She smiled at Kisig after Hagibis stepped outside. “I’ll change your poultice. It will hurt a bit, so drink this to dull the pain.” The healer unwrapped her bundle of different-shaped containers and handed him a cup of orange liquid.

  Kisig grimaced at the bitter taste. “I don’t really need this.” Kisig placed the potion on the floor. The healer shook her head and placed it back in Kisig’s hand. Kisig continued drinking as Sagip burned dry lemongrass.

  “I have a potion here to help you relax.” She put a wooden container on the table standing a few inches high. “Drink this two times a day, and you’ll have a dreamless sleep.” Her gaze flicked between Kisig’s tired eyes and his shoulder. “Moving isn’t good for you right now. I think the poultice has soaked through. Let me take a look.”

  Kisig flinched as Hagibis’s touch invaded his mind.

  “It’ll take no time.” Sagip frowned as she removed the untied the poultice. “I know you have countless things to do, but your health comes first. If you’re ill, the village will suffer.”

  Kisig nodded. He clenched his fist in preparation for the pain.

  “Relax.”

  He released his breath after Sagip tied the new poultice, thankful that the potion indeed helped minimize the pain.

  “Your wound stopped bleeding yesterday, but it has started again. I know I’m repeating myself, but it would really be great if you don’t use your hand for a few days.”

  Kisig wanted to say that it was because of Hagibis, but he kept his mouth shut and nodded. The healer didn’t need to know about Hagibis’s threat.

  Another knock at the door prompted the healer to collect her things. “Don’t forget to drink the potion after eating.”

  “Thank you for the help, Sagip. I will.”

  “Report, Datu.”

  Kisig straightened his back at the hurried voice of Warrior Bagsik. He nodded toward the healer, who understood what he meant and stood to gather her things.

  “Come in,” he ordered in a loud voice.

  Warrior Bagsik bowed after closing the door behind the healer. He sat cross-legged across from Kisig, laid his spear beside him, and glanced briefly at the potion on the table. He opened his mouth, but Kisig held up his hand for silence.

  “Was anyone near the door?”

  “No, Datu.”

  “Good. Proceed with your report.” Kisig wasn’t sure whether Hagibis had control over the man. He hadn’t noticed anything suspicious, but still, he wanted to be careful.

  “You were right last night. The men aren’t familiar to you because they’re not Nayon vil
lagers. They’re Daa men. As of now, it’s impossible to know for sure whether someone from our village hired them or Daa did. But…”

  Kisig contemplated telling the man about Official Hagibis, but he wasn’t sure the head warrior was free of the official’s clout. “But?” He urged the head warrior to continue.

  “Some speculate about an official going to Daa, but as I said earlier, we’re still not sure about everything.”

  Kisig found himself smiling before he realized it, and Warrior Bagsik frowned confusedly.

  “For now, the assassins are dead. I want you to stop the investigation. Just focus on preparing your men.”

  “But, Datu—”

  “I know what I’m doing. Trust me. I’ve increased security. Besides, our priority right now is making sure our defense is good in case Daa attacks us and starts a war. Promise me you won’t let the village down.”

  Warrior Bagsik stood to his full height and put his right hand on his chest.

  Chapter 7

  Tala

  It didn’t take long for Master Langit to find her. Just before noon the following day, he stormed toward the shrine, red-faced with rage. Kidlat followed him, but his emotionless face was harder to read.

  “Mind your manners when you’re inside the shrine. Let’s talk outside.” The high priestess led the way. Tala followed the old woman’s footsteps, terrified her master would snatch her if she stood too far from the high priestess.

  “This child is now a contender,” the high priestess said as soon as they exited the shrine. “I’m sure you’re aware that a girl’s background does not matter once she enters the shrine. Don’t try to convince me otherwise. If she fails, then she will become your slave again, but for now, her status is a contender.”