Chapter 5: Hiding

Slowly, Sedayu rose to his feet. His legs could barely hold his weight, yet he was more afraid of his brother than of the darkness outside—or the haunted bend near the randu alas. The fear pressed so tightly on his chest that it surpassed his terror of the night itself. Even though it felt like his soul had already left his body, Sedayu walked toward the door.

Ki Tanu Metir stepped before him and opened it. As the old man did so, he heard the boy choke down his sobs.

“Place your soul and body in the hands of the One who created them,” Ki Tanu whispered. “If it is time, no shield of iron will stop His will. But if it is not, even a storm of blades cannot harm you. So do not fear.”

Agung Sedayu nodded, but the fear clung to him like a shadow.

At the door, he glanced once more at his brother. But Untara had his eyes shut. And so Sedayu stepped outside.

There, under the cloak of night, he saw Untara’s horse. Trembling, he climbed up.

“Farewell, my boy,” Ki Tanu murmured.

Sedayu did not answer. But his head dipped in a final nod. Empty of feeling, he tugged the reins. The horse moved forward, and the darkness swallowed them. To Sedayu, it was as if he had stepped into the land of death itself.

When he was gone, Ki Tanu slowly closed the door and turned to Untara. The wounded man sat slumped, exhausted.

“Why did you do that?” Ki Tanu asked softly.

Untara drew a long breath. “God willing, he’ll be safe.”

Ki Tanu sat beside him and nodded slowly.

“I pity Sedayu,” Untara murmured.

“But it was your decision,” said the old man.

“I needed to get him out,” Untara replied. “And I hope Uncle Widura will protect him. Besides, Widura knows the kind of boy he is.”

Ki Tanu nodded again. Now he understood. Untara’s threats had not been real. He had only wanted to scare Sedayu enough to make him leave.

“That boy is hopelessly soft,” Untara went on. “Fear can only be defeated by greater fear. And I managed to push him out. I pray he’s safe.”

He fell silent for a moment, then added weakly, “Perhaps you should drive me away too, before the Hawk of Jalatunda arrives.”

“No, my child,” Ki Tanu replied quickly. “You need my care.”

“But what if it puts you in danger? If they find me here, they won’t spare you either.”

“Don’t think of me,” said the old man gently. “Your wound is serious. I’m doing my best to heal you.”

For a time, silence fell between them. Then came the sound of hoofbeats beyond the village. Untara’s heart leapt. He nearly cried out to call Sedayu back. But he restrained himself, using reason to fight his instincts.

“If the Hawk doesn’t come here,” he thought, “and Sedayu is attacked on the road, I will carry that guilt forever. I’ll have lost my brother for nothing. But if the Hawk does come, and kills me—at least Sedayu will live. That is enough.”

He shuddered. The worst possibility was that the Hawk might find Sedayu on the road, kill him, force the location of the house from him, then come here and kill him as well.

“I’ve done all I can,” he told himself. “Now everything lies in the hands of God.”

With that, Untara drew a long breath and tried to calm himself. He prayed that Sedayu would reach Sangkal Putung safely, and that the Hawk would not come to this hut.

But then, from the bend in the road, came shouts and angry curses.

Ki Tanu stiffened. “What is that noise?” Untara asked faintly.

The old man did not answer immediately. He was trying to catch the words.

“Where is he?” a harsh voice cried. “Where’s the house of that healer?”

There was no answer. Then came a muffled cry of pain.

“If you won’t talk,” the voice snarled, “then you’ll die first.”

“Mercy,” another voice whimpered. “I only heard a horse ride by.”

“Idiot!” the first one barked. “I don’t care about the horse. Tell me where Tanu Metir lives!”

Another silence. Then more blows.

Ki Tanu’s brow furrowed. “That man won’t betray us,” he whispered.

“Poor soul,” Untara growled, grinding his teeth. “If only I weren’t wounded—”

“Let them find me,” he said aloud. “That way, you and he will be safe.”

“No, child,” Ki Tanu said. “You’re too valuable. We are nothing.”

Untara was moved. Valor didn’t live only in the hearts of warriors. Even this simple village healer faced death with the heart of a hero.

Untara shook his head weakly. “It’s one thing for a soldier to die in battle. But I won’t use others as shields. Let them find me. At least you should escape.”

“This is my home,” Ki Tanu answered firmly. “Even if I run, I’ll return here. They’ll find me regardless.”

Untara took another deep breath. Before he could say more, Ki Tanu continued, “But why not try to save us both? I can hide you. If they search and don’t find you, we both live.”

“Hiding…” Untara’s pride flinched. He had never considered hiding from an enemy. But now, his body was barely clinging to life.

“Is it possible?” he asked faintly. The angry voices outside were growing closer.

“Come,” Ki Tanu said. “I’ll hide you in the left sentong (a traditional room in old Javanese house for tools or just used as warehouse) I’ll cover you with sheaves of harvested rice. Maybe they won’t look there.”

He didn’t wait for Untara’s consent. Moving swiftly, he helped the wounded man up. Untara feared they might both collapse—but somehow, the old man had strength enough to support him.