IKALAWANG KABANATA - tr. CHAPTER 02
Ang aking katawan ay akin at akin lamang
My body is mine and mine alone.
DIWA
The men rejoiced, busy with their plundered gold—our gold, our wealth, earned through our blood, sweat, and tears. I remained silent, not uttering a single word. I knew I was a captive and didn't know if Bathala would soon take me. Would they kill us?
No, Diwa. They took the women. You know what that means, don't you?
"Can we choose our women now, Rajah?" one asked, and the noise grew louder. I quickly looked down, feeling the lecherous stares of the raiders burning into my skin. Fear coursed through my veins like a relentless tide.
I clenched my teeth, trying to contain my anger. But what could my anger achieve? Nothing. I am but a woman. What could I do against them? With my small, delicate arms—what could I lift? With my slow, hesitant pace, could I escape?
I dared to glance up again and accidentally locked eyes with the man sitting on his makeshift throne. Leaning slightly, he was staring intently at me—no, at me with his jet-black eyes. When he noticed I was looking back, he leaned back in his seat, meeting my gaze with an unnerving intensity.
Now I remembered. I had heard of him. The Rajah from afar. Stories I once ignored now became a haunting reality...
I couldn't read his thoughts. His ruthless killing of my fellow villagers replayed in my mind. How mercilessly he had wielded his kampilan. The pain and sorrow hit me all at once as I met his gaze. I was the first to look away.
"D-Diwa, w-will they kill us?" Marikit's trembling voice whispered beside me. "A-Are we--"
"We'll become their playthings," I whispered, bowing my head. "We women will become concubines.."
"N-No, it can't be." She burst into tears, her sobs piercing through the chaos around us.
I shut my eyes tightly. I never had affection for my fellow villagers because I hated the world. But I couldn't stand the thought of—
I flinched as a strong, calloused hand grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand from my kneeling position. "This woman, my Rajah!" the raider proclaimed triumphantly. I glanced at Marikit and the others—
N-No...
My eyes fell on the man before me, a figure who seemed like a god in his gaze. I couldn't swallow the truth that our lives were in his hands, that he decided our fate. I glared at him, filled with rage, but helpless in my anger.
He said nothing. He raised his index finger slightly, signaling—
No!
I was dragged away, but I struggled fiercely. The man glared and slapped me hard, almost knocking me down. But I didn't stop; I grabbed his kampilan from his side with all the strength I could muster.
It was heavy—my arm trembled under its weight. I didn't know what I was doing, but I looked back at the Rajah. I closed the distance between us quickly. Before anyone could stop me, I was right in front of him—so close I could feel his breath.
If I could thrust the kampilan into him and kill him—that would be enough. Enough to pay for the lives he had stolen.
But I couldn't do it. I was breathing heavily, my hands shaking uncontrollably, and I knew, even if I didn't want to admit it, that I was overflowing with fear. Especially now, facing him. I was almost on top of him and... and...
I shut my eyes tightly, trying to summon the courage to act.
They will kill me.
I knew that. This was the end for me. But maybe I could take him with me.
I opened my eyes, meeting the gaze of the seemingly unperturbed Rajah. He knew I couldn't kill him. My arm fell weakly, dropping the kampilan, which clattered loudly in the now silent surroundings.
"You can have me killed now, Rajah..." I whispered. My throat was dry—I was terrified thinking about what would happen next...
But he ignored my words. Instead, his large, rough hand landed on my chest, startling me. His hand was warm, rough, clearly accustomed to holding a kampilan all his life.
He looked up from my lips to my eyes, searching for something in my gaze.
"Diwa, isn't it?" he asked gently. His voice was deep and gravelly, surprising me with how calm it was—it didn't match the man who could so easily kill. I had seen what he could do with my own eyes. How effortlessly he took lives without a second thought.
But before I could answer, someone grabbed me from behind, pressing a sharp blade to my throat.
"My husband," a soft, melodic voice said from behind me. "Forgive me for not hearing of your return sooner. What does this woman want with you?"
Husband? His wife.
I gasped as the blade slowly sank into my skin, a chilling reminder of my precarious situation.
"Slave," the Rajah replied, never taking his eyes off me. "My slave."
His wife hesitated; the blade still pressed to my throat. I could feel her uncertainty, the tension in the air palpable. The Rajah's gaze never wavered; his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my heart race.
"Release her," he commanded softly, his voice carrying a weight of authority that left no room for argument. "She is mine."
The blade was withdrawn, and I felt a rush of relief, though it was short-lived. I was still a captive, still at their mercy.
The Rajah stood slowly, his movements deliberate and controlled. He approached me, each step measured, until he was standing directly in front of me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the raw power that he exuded.
"You belong to me now," he said, his voice low and firm. "And I will decide your fate."
I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't know what to expect, what he would do to me. But in that moment, as his eyes locked onto mine, I felt a strange sense of calm. As if, despite everything, there was a glimmer of hope.
"Come with me," he ordered, turning and walking away, expecting me to follow.
I hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and followed him. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, anger, confusion—but above all, a determination to survive. To find a way through this, whatever it took.
The Rajah led me through the camp, past the men who still celebrated their victory, past the fires that cast eerie shadows in the night. He took me to his home, larger and more elaborate than the others, clearly his own.
He gestured for me to enter, and I did, stepping inside and feeling the warmth of the fire that burned within. The home was richly decorated, filled with furs and silks, a stark contrast to the harshness outside.
"Sit," he commanded, pointing to a cushion near the fire.
I obeyed, sitting down and watching him as he moved around the home, his presence commanding and intimidating.
"Why did you try to kill me?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.
I hesitated, unsure how to respond. "You... you killed my people," I finally said, my voice trembling. "I wanted to avenge them."
He nodded slowly, as if considering my words. "You have spirit," he said. "I can respect that. But know this, Diwa, your life is mine now. You will serve me, and in return, I will protect you."
I stared at him, trying to understand his intentions. "And if I refuse?"
His eyes hardened, his expression turning cold. "You won't," he said simply. "Because you know that it is your only chance for survival."
I looked down, the weight of his words sinking in. He was right. I had no other choice. I had to find a way to survive, to endure, and maybe, just maybe, to find a way to escape this nightmare.
"Very well," I said quietly. "I will serve you, Rajah."
He nodded, satisfied with my response. "Good. Now rest. Tomorrow, your new life begins."
As I lay down, my mind raced with thoughts of what the future would hold. I was a slave, a captive, but I was still alive. And as long as I was alive, there was hope.
I closed my eyes, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to me. Tomorrow would be a new day, a new beginning. And I would face it with all the strength and courage I could muster.
For now, I would rest. And in my dreams, I would find the strength to endure whatever came next.
********