Chapter Eight: Brothers

... Magdalo dreams while the assistant sets his plan in motion

“Magdalo, I need you to get up….now.  The sun is starting to climb and if we don’t get a move on, we’ll lose that boar we’ve been tracking.”

The young man lying on the blanket mumbled something inaudible and turned away, hoping to shut out the sound of the voice….and the pain in his head.

“Come on, Magdalo,” the voice was gentle but insistent, “it’s late.  Get up.”

Magdalo stirred and finally sat up.  The pain in his head became worse and after a few moments, he began to wretch.

Magdangal looked down at his younger brother with love, pity and a little exasperation.  He had warned him of the potency of sugar wine the night before, but Magdalo had always been headstrong.   He reached into his coat and brought out some dried biscuits.

“Here, eat these.  Believe me,” Magdangal said, as he saw the uncertainty in the younger man’s eyes, “they will soon settle that stomach of yours.”  He handed over the biscuits. 

Magdalo took the biscuits and started nibbling on them.  Now that he was feeling what he had been warned about, he was not about to question anything Magdangal said.

His older brother smiled gently and ruffled the young man’s unruly hair.  Turning around, he started to roll up their sleeping blankets.  He loaded them onto the horses tethered nearby, then walked to the small fire burning in the middle of their make-shift camp where a kettle was boiling away.  Magdangal lifted the kettle and poured its contents into a tin cup.  He walked back to where his brother still sat and gave it to him.

Magdalo accepted the drink gratefully.  His stomach certainly felt a lot better, but the pain in his head had not eased at all.  He waited for a few moments then gulped down the strong hot brew, knowing it was the cure for his headache. 

“Good,” Magdangal said, “now we can get a move on.”  He held out a hand and pulled his brother to his feet. 

After mounting their horses, they turned west to where the tracks were leading.  Magdalo had looked forward to this " it was only his third hunt " but in truth, after a day and a half of following the beast, he was more than a little tired of the adventure.  He sighed then suddenly gripped the reins of his horse tighter, the throbbing in his head had increased.

“We’ll catch up with the boar before mid-noon, you know,” Magdangal calmly said, “by that time your headache will be gone and, hopefully, your aim will be truer,” pointing to the spear strapped to the young man’s horse.

Despite the pain in his head, Magdalo smiled.

“You have the eyes of a falcon, brother, you see far too much.”

 

 

 

Magdangal allowed his younger brother to take the lead in following the tracks for most of the morning, and it was not long before they led the pair to a thick tangle of shrubbery with a stream at the far end of it.  As they neared the bushes, they could clearly hear the boar rooting around inside the copse for its meal.  Magdalo signaled silently to his brother and both of them dismounted quietly.  After unstrapping the spear from his horse, Magdangal quietly walked to where his brother was waiting.

“I’ll go around to the left, brother, while you move in from the other side.  The stream at the end of these bushes will prevent the boar from escaping that way, so I’m sure he’ll head back out here,” Magdalo whispered.

“And when you give the signal, we’ll rush him from both ends.  A very good plan, Magdalo, we’ll be dining on roast pork tonight.”

Magdalo nodded then the two men set off in opposite directions.  They closed in on the boar and when both were only a few feet from it, Magdalo shouted, running towards the boar, his spear held in front of him.  His older brother did the same.  The boar squealed and started running back towards the clearing. 

The plan was sound, but in their excitement, both brothers had forgotten that the beast was heading towards where their mounts were tethered.  Both horses reared up on their hind legs and the frightened boar, surprised by the much bigger animals, veered away again and ran straight towards Magdangal.  There was no time to take any sort of aim, the boar was too close.  In a flash, he pushed the blunt end of his spear as far as he could into the ground, then holding it upright, he knelt behind the spear and braced himself.  The boar, now crazed with fright, squealed even louder.  Suddenly it leapt towards the kneeling figure of Magdangal, just as Magdalo hurled his own spear.

 

 

 

The fragrant odor of roasted meat wafted towards the stream where Magdalo had led the horses to drink at dusk.  His mouth started to water and it was only then that he realized that he and Magdangal had not eaten anything at all the whole day.  It would be a grand feast that night, even if there were only the two of them.  The young man filled their water bags from the stream, gathered the horses’ reins in one hand and walked back to where his older brother was cooking their kill.

Later that night, hunger appeased by meat and thirst quenched by clear stream water and the left over sugar wine, the brothers did what they had done years back, when, as children they could not sleep….they talked.  They told tall tales, the taller the better, trying to outdo each other with ridiculous stories, most of which they made up. 

It was almost midnight when the brothers heard horses approaching their camp.  They both picked up their spears; they knew they were quite safe, Green Forest was well within their father’s holdings, but one could never be too sure.

“Who approaches?” Magdangal called out into the dark.

“Master, it is us,” Agapito, their mother’s manservant and his young son, Laoakan, came into view, “you and Master Magdalo must come back at once, sire, your mother is dying.”

 

 

 

“She is dying…” the words went round and round Magdalo’s head.  They were all that he could remember on the journey back from Green Forest, that and the tears on their servants’ faces when he and Magdangal finally reached home.

The town physician was in their mother’s room when the brothers entered it.  One look at his face told them all that they needed to know. 

“It will not be long,” the doctor said, as he left the room.

The brothers knelt on either side of their mother’s bed.  Lakan Maria was still beautiful as she lay on the bed, but she was very pale.  And her hands, when Magdalo held them, were like ice.  She opened her eyes at his touch and smiled at her two sons.

“I need to speak with your younger brother, Magdangal, if you don’t mind,” their mother requested softly.

Her older son bowed his head, stood up and kissed Lakan Maria on the forehead.  Then he gently ruffled his younger brother’s unruly hair, turned and quietly left the room.

“I thought I could keep this secret with me, Magdalo, even beyond death.  But now that it is upon me, I find that my need for redemption is greater.”

Her son listened as the dying woman told her tale.

 

“Magdalo, I need you to get up….now!” 

The hermit sat bolt upright.  The burning crystals deadened his senses, giving him sleep whenever he needed it, but they had never caused him to hallucinate - until now; his brother’s voice had seemed so real. 

He was about to close his eyes again when he heard men shouting, wolves baying, and the terrified neighing of a horse.

The hermit grabbed his staff and ran back to the camp.