The Battle of Liars

Wirahasa noticed the unusual change in Jagat Wengi's expression. He whispered to the interpreter for a moment before relaying the message back to Ulagan.

Jagat Wengi was still trying to guess what would happen in the future. Would his head be severed? Or would he be held captive as a slave in Mongolia? Because he felt uneasy seeing Wirahasa's sly, grinning smile. He saw a reflection of himself when he looked at this distant relative of Jayakatwang.

Ulagan, the Mongol officer he already knew as Ganzorig, and the interpreter quickly left the Bale Paseban. Only a dozen Mongol soldiers remained to guard the entrance and every corner of the room.

"Jagat... Jagat. Your name sounds familiar to me. The book thief. I've heard many Panewu seek your services. Am I mistaken?" Wirahasa asked, sitting on the grand throne once used by the previous King of Kediri.

"What is it for, those young children?" Jagat Wengi went straight to the point because cunning individuals like Wirahasa always played games in the minds of their conversation partners.

"Where are the books you once hid?"

"The books were just orders. I never kept them."

"Don't you da--" Wirahasa's sentence was interrupted when a soldier brought a tray of food. "You better eat first. It's fried grasshoppers made by them. Don't compare it to Javanese cuisine."

"Because they have all raped our women..." Jagat Wengi muttered.

"What did you say?"

Jagat Wengi ignored the question. He immediately moved the fried grasshoppers, a dish known as walang goreng, to his mouth. He chewed them, his lips getting smeared with brownish oil.

For a few moments, silence hung in the room. Wirahasa continued to watch as Jagat Wengi devoured his food. His eyes followed the guest in the Bale Paseban as he took a pitcher of arak from the table.

Wirahasa also noticed Jagat Wengi's Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed the liquid.

"That's enough! Stop! Do you want your head to be severed by the Mongols?"

The flow of arak in Jagat Wengi's mouth instantly halted. He stopped, his mouth agape and his forehead furrowed in astonishment.

"Why, Lord Wirahasa? I am eating. You are waiting. What did I do wrong?"

"Enough! Now we need to talk about the kidnapping of those children. There's a great reward waiting for you."

"I can't do it. That's not my job. Besides, why do the Mongols need young children?"

"It's because they need troops in the land of Java. And to bring soldiers from their homeland, it requires a significant cost. Come here. I want to show you something."

Wirahasa took something out of his leather pouch and revealed an arrow. There was nothing unusual about it, but the way he presented it made it seem extraordinary.

"An arrow?"

"Take a closer look. The arrowhead, the feathers, and the shaft. It's a highly skilled art of war. We can learn a lot from it. Take a look."

Jagat Wengi's eyes followed Wirahasa's pointing finger towards the arrowhead. Wirahasa explained that the arrowhead was meticulously crafted from bone, intentionally designed to absorb poison.

"We can rebuild our kingdom of Kediri, Jagat Wengi. And I will be the one to carry it forward."

"There must be another way, Lord Wirahasa. But don't involve innocent children."

"You fool! Children don't remain children forever. They will grow up, and when that happens, they can become our soldiers. Haven't you thought about that?"

Jagat Wengi was not a learned individual who understood the intricacies of royal affairs and politics. He was merely a survivor who stole books.

"If it's truly for the future of the kingdom, why don't you ask me to steal the books instead?"

*Smack!

Wirahasa struck Jagat Wengi's head without warning. "You fool! I asked that from the beginning before you ate. Where are the sacred books you stole stored?"

"I only steal when there's an order. So I immediately give the books to the buyers."

"Including Panewu Panggito?"

Jagat Wengi nodded quietly. He returned to the table, poured himself some arak, and drank it. When else could he enjoy such expensive palace liquor?

"You can have as much arak as you want. But don't get drunk for now. Ulagan needs an answer as soon as possible, or else this job will be given to someone else."

"How many others are there, Lord Wirahasa?"

"What do you mean?"

"People like you who have blood ties to Prabu Jayakatwang?"

"There are none. They have all been transported to Hujung Galuh."

As a cunning individual, Wirahasa was still too weak to maintain his lies.

But at least Jagat Wengi knew for certain that the entire Jayakatwang family was imprisoned in Hujung Galuh, a large port second only to Tuban. It was located northeast of Majapahit, or perhaps more accurately, it was the Village of Majapahit, as the area was once a forest cleared to build a small settlement. A place of exile for Raden Wijaya, the son-in-law of Kertanegara.

Then the question arose, why was Wirahasa able to escape? And why was he free to roam in the palace?

"And why did those Mongols capture you?" Wirahasa asked, breaking the question that lingered in his opponent's mind.

Jagat Wengi was startled, but his slightly reddened eyes masked his surprised expression. Of course, he was captured because he had escaped from Bekel, who employed him. And Bekel was a subordinate of Panewu Panggito.

He quickly racked his brain to find the correct answer, as the question implied that Kediri had been fragmented by various interests.

"I was in a fight with the disciples of the Kentabuana school."

"The White Faction? Have you ever stolen their books?"

"Which school's books haven't I stolen, Lord Wirahasa? But that's not what I want to discuss." Jagat Wengi suddenly came up with an idea to reject the idea of kidnapping the children.

"What idea?"

Jagat Wengi explained that the kingdom and the martial arts school were intertwined, inseparable from each other. They had mutually beneficial cooperation. And kidnapping the children was not a wise decision in the current situation.

"We will surely be attacked by two martial arts factions, Lord Wirahasa."

"But you forget one thing. There are still martial artists outside of the schools."

Wirahasa added that since the fall of Kediri, many grandmasters had disbanded their schools because their students were divided between Majapahit and Kediri. Some secluded themselves in the mountains, while others went far to the southern coast.

"In that case, you should find out what they need from us."

"Are you suggesting something other than kidnapping the children?" Although he asked, Wirahasa appeared to be thinking, leaning back in his chair with both hands on the armrest. "In that case, I will ask someone else."

"Who is this someone else, Lord?" Jagat Wengi was familiar with almost all the criminals in the land of Java.

"There is one name, but their services come at a high price. Except for Panggito, who manages them."

"What?!" Jagat Wengi panicked. That meant he would be working with Panewu again. One of his subordinates might have become prey for wild animals in the forest because of him.

"Why? Haven't you worked for him frequently?"

He had to redirect this conversation to their new employer, Ulagan, the Mongol Commander of the Kediri region.

"But it seems unlikely that I would be saved without another reason, Lord Wirahasa. I think Lord Ulagan was testing both of us."

"What do you mean, Jagat Wengi? Your mind and mouth are equally quick when it comes to thinking. Speak."

"Lord Ulagan seems to be interested in the sacred books of Java."

"That's just your speculation. There is no basis for it."

"Then how else could Panewu afford to pay me for finding the lost sacred books in the palace if not with the Mongols?"

"So, you have been working for him after the Mongols attacked the palace? Is that right?"

*Thud!

His mind's speed of thought didn't match his fluent tongue. Jagat Wengi had spoken too much. It was true, from the beginning, this room had been a battle of wits between two opposing individuals.

"Our conversation has been long enough that I had to pretend to be foolish in order to dig into you, Jagat Wengi. Your mind is sharp, but your mouth should be able to digest the contents of your mind before they spill out. It would be better if you were mute."

Jagat Wengi swallowed his own saliva, unable to fathom what it would be like to be mute. What would his world be like then? He also wanted to charm a woman. He fell silent. The education in the palace was certainly different from the education of the wild.

The palace was surrounded by walls, but the wilderness was surrounded by mountains and forests filled with wild animals. The speed of thought had to be matched by the speed of action.

Wirahasa indeed thought quickly, but when it came to verbal and physical actions, he had to consider every detail and its consequences. This was where Jagat Wengi's defeat lay.

"I need your skills to steal books and your knowledge of the martial arts schools out there. Find out which side they are on now. Majapahit must be planning something."

"What about the children from earlier?"

"Heheee," Wirahasa grinned again, just as he did at the beginning of the meeting. He leaned forward and spoke once more. "Wild beasts like you need a substantial bait."

Damn it! He would always remember this insult. Or perhaps he could avenge it right now. After all, today he was no one. Wirahasa was just a Mongol slave. He would find a reason for his death later. What mattered was avenging this insult.

He took another sip from the cup of alcohol. There was no single ruler in the land of Java now. He could give a thousand excuses to the Mongols later regarding Wirahasa's death today.

Unbeknownst, Jagat Wengi discreetly slipped a small fruit-peeling knife from the palm of his hand. There were no hidden compartments in his sleeveless attire. He took another cup to offer to Wirahasa.

"In that case, I'll get ready first, Lord Wirahasa. I need to bathe and prepare myself. Your task may be easy, but I need someone for my own work."

"Later, you can take it from the captive soldiers here."

The cup was then thrust toward Wirahasa's face, momentarily blocking his view as the knife slipped out from behind the hand holding the cup.

And the opportunity arrived when the cup was raised to his mouth. At that moment, Jagat Wengi prepared to swing the small knife at Wirahasa's throat.