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#Mitolohiya Books #Young Adult
Chapter 3: Kiko Saw the Palace
AFTER SEVERAL MINUTES of endless stirring, Kiko was sweating profusely. Meanwhile, Sapira lounged comfortably on top of the table, swinging her legs as she munched on the dalandan her kababata brought.Â
“Is it true that the council is meeting right now to discuss sending Binukot Busilak to the Palace?”
“Is it true that the Council is meeting to discuss the proper manner to send Binukot Busilak away?” Kiko asked after a while, breaking the silence.
When they came of age, the binukot and the princes of the tribes were presented to the Palace of Montala to study there. The Palace was miles away from their island.Â
Sapira shrugged.
“I can’t believe you,” protested Kiko, “Aren’t you interested in what’s happening to our binukot?”
“No,” replied Sapira directly.Â
He winced at her answer. “Tsk tsk,” he chuckled.
Sapira rolled her eyes at him. She was a practical person. If Binukot Busilak left, her workload would lessen. That worked in my favor, she thought quietly.
Silence settled between them. It stretched so long that she wondered if her friend had taken offense. He wasn’t the type who felt comfortable with silence.
“They’re here to discuss how the Binukot will be dressed and presented at the Palace,” Sapira said after a while, her tone carrying a hint of reluctance. “They’re talking about many things—what she’ll wear, how many gifts will be presented, who will accompany her as part of her household. So many unnecessary details. Too much hullabalo, when they could just send the girl to the Palace.”
“But why?” Kiko asked, scratching his head.
Sapira frowned. “What do you mean, why?”
“Why does it have to be done that way?” Kiko asked.
“That everything related to the Binukot has to be discussed first?” Sapira clarified.
“Yes,” Kiko replied.
“Because she’s a maharlika,” Sapira said with a shrug. “And that’s the politics of the maharlika.”
He scratched his head in response.
Sapira took a breath, as if holding back her irritation. “Because Binukot Busilak will be mingling with other maharlika from the Palace. Whatever she does will shape how others see our tribe,” she explained, her voice edged with annoyance. “People must not think our tribe is poor or easy to defeat. Binukot Busilak has to be presentable—grand, pleasing. She won’t just be studying there. Her presence will plant alliances, start communication, and build relationships.”
Kiko blinked. “Oh, so that’s how it is,” he said. “You’re really amazing! Who would’ve thought you knew all that?”
“You’re so dramatic,” she scoffed.
A brief silence settled between them.
“Sapira,” he said, “can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
He grimaced. “No, I mean—this is serious.”
“What is it?”
“Do you… want to study?” Kiko asked.
She laughed. “Slaves are forbidden to study,” she replied matter-of-factly. Education was only for the maharlika.
“But why aren’t we allowed to study?” Kiko asked again.
“No idea,” Sapira replied. “Why, Kiko—do you want to study?”
“Yes, I do,” he nodded. “If I get an education, I might be able to become a maharlika. I don’t want to be a slave forever.”
“Stop dreaming,” Sapira admonished.
“Aren’t you annoyed that we’re all the same people, yet there are things others are allowed to do that we aren’t?” he said sharply.
Sapira winced.
“You’re so dramatic,” she replied. “Even if I get annoyed, nothing will change our situation. Being angry is just a waste of my emotion.”
He let out a sigh. “Maybe it’s a good thing that Binukot Busilak is going there. She’ll have the chance to become part of the Palace that governs our entire kingdom.”
Sapira frowned. “What’s so good about that?”
“If she becomes part of the Palace, Binukot Busilak can change the system of society,” Kiko answered. “I’m sure she’ll push for a just system—one where no one is denied their rights. Where everyone is equal. Everyone is free.”
Sapira paused slightly at her friend’s words. He almost looked amusing—so serious in his speech while stirring the sweet dish.
“That’s impossible,” Sapira retorted. She was certain the Binukot would never do that.
The boy scoffed. “You wouldn’t do it,” he accused, “but the Binukot would.”
She grimaced.
“Pssh,” she said, changing the subject. “Focus on your job! It’s overflowing.”
“Ay,” he said, as if only now remembering the pot he’d been stirring. “Wait, isn’t this done yet? I’ve been stirring for so long.”
Sapira thought for a moment. “Give me the ladle,” she said. “I’ll check.”
Hundred ants seemed to attack her tongue as soon as she tasted the meryenda. It was too sweet.
Darn it, she thought, it’s been over-stirred.
“How is it?” Kiko asked.
Sapira didn’t answer.
“Give it here. I’ll taste it too.”
“It’s delicious,” said Sapira, wiping Kiko’s hand away.Â
“Really?” Kiko asked again.
“Yes,” she replied, shooting him a glare. “Let’s take it off the fire. It’s done.”
Scratching his head, Kiko followed her lead.
AFTER FIXING THE pot of dessert, the two sat on top of the table and peered out the window.
From where they sat, they could clearly see monkeys swinging from the branches of banana trees. A few of their fellow tribespeople were trying to drive them away, throwing bundles of broomsticks at the animals. The monkeys fought back by hurling banana peels. The monkeys, blessed creatures, always had perfect aim.
They could also see the end of the An Lalakay tribe council’s table. Surrounding the bamboo table were ten of An Lalakay tribe’s finest and most respected warriors. At the head sat their leader, Datu Sakay, his tattooed body visible beneath his bahag and tsaleko. Feathers were tied to his head. The other council members were warriors as well, their bodies covered in tattoos. Each mark was a symbol of victory and bravery—each one representing a head they had taken.
Only one among them stood apart—Nana Linangan, the babaylan, Bathala’s prophetess. She wore a white robe.
“Did you ever want to go to the Palace?” Kiko’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“No,” she replied. Kiko’s way too nosy.
“Really?” he said, unconvinced. “Everyone here would swim across the sea just to reach the Palace. They say it’s beautiful there! The houses are made of marble—not like here, where everything is just thatched huts. One lick of fire and they’re gone.”
She shrugged.
“Even at night, everything there sparkles,” Kiko added. “The place is full of lights. Not like here, where it gets so dark once the moon comes out.”
“Where did you even hear that? You’ve never been to the Palace.”
“Our neighbours told me so.”
“And you believed them?”
“It’s true,” the boy insisted. “Nong Ilaya saw it himself when he once went to the center to trade.” Nong Ilaya was a wandering merchant.
Sapira shrugged. “Do you want to see the Palace?” she asked after a moment, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
Kiko nodded eagerly.
“Close your eyes,” she said.
“Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“Basta.”
“But why?”
“Basta,” she pressed. “Don’t you trust me?”
It was clear from the boy’s expression that he didn’t trust her at all. Still, obediently, he closed his eyes.
The moment he opened them again, Sapira quickly squeezed the juice of the dalandan straight into his face.
“Sapira!” he shouted. “What was that?!”
Sapira burst into laughter. “Didn’t you say you wanted to see the Palace? Didn’t you say it sparkles there? There, now you see it!”
“You’re unbelievable!” he complained, eyes tightly shut. “I can’t even open my eyes!”
Sapira only laughed harder.
“Sapira!”
Sapira ceased laughing at once. She knew that voice. Slowly, she turned toward the doorway. There, her hands firmly planted on her waist, was her mother. Busted, she thought.