None ever failed to distinguish Sengkolo’s steps. His wide marching rhythm resonated between the golden-hued basalts that formed the large hallway. The crimson rug beneath him did little to suppress the clamor kicked by his steel greaves. Danker officials who found themselves on his path voluntarily moved aside. Some waved respect to Sengkolo, some just gazed impassively. Sengkolo tried his best to return but there was no way he could nod to everyone. Normally, weapons and armor were prohibited in the vicinity of official buildings. Sengkolo was the only Danker with the privilege. On him was a responsibility as massive as Mount Wardhana. He had to think not only about frontline affairs but also statesmanship. It earned him a couple of scowls, some were evident in the hallway. He could easily shrug them off as they were nothing compared to the concerns of the Makmu Sultanate.
The Grand Joglo was the second most essential building in the sultanate next to the Royal Palace itself. It was situated on Men-Neng, one of Nur-Fadhil's High Districts. Laws and regulations were discussed and passed in an amphitheater chamber called the Representative Hall. Officials who bore the duty were Councilors from the Great Houses and representatives hailing from all provinces of Mananggal. For that reason, the Grand Joglo was often referred to as the House of Houses. Each Great House provided nine Councilors while the number of Provincial Representatives was determined by the population of the representatives’ provinces. Nowadays, decisions made by the Sultan had to be approved by the majority of the Grand Joglo. Past events involving Mangkuprawan III led to the establishment of better checks and balances in the sultanate.
In the center of the Grand Joglo was a tall circular stage. The icon of the Almighty Three, made out of pure gold smelted by the best of smelters, looked after every official in the building from the stage. Six pedestals surrounded the stage. On top of them were golden crafts of each Great Houses’ symbol. Great House Pendhopo was symbolized by a scale with a squeezed triangular roof on its top. Great House Pringgitan had a mythical crustacean giant of Mananggal, Patih Lawu, engraved on a kite shield as their symbol. Great House Pawon was represented by a stalk of Beanrice and Puffbranch standing atop a stove. The symbol of Great House Langgar was three incense bowls with their base touching each other. Meanwhile, Great House Dalem chose an alternating pattern of scrolls to represent them.
There was a sixth pedestal that was roughly cut. It was impossible to uproot them without undermining the structural integrity of the Grand Joglo. No one expected a Great House would turn against the Sultanate. But still, traitors deserved no recollections.
Sengkolo stopped before the stage. He raised both hands to his forehead, forming the shape of a Goldbud anther. He uttered prayers to Vhisa. His hands became a cauldron to which Vhisa's wisdom poured and gathered. Sengkolo crossed his hands just below his chin, keeping his palms facing upward. He uttered prayers to Visha. Sengkolo draped Her scarf around his neck. Love and compassion shall guide him through the upcoming political dialogues. Finally, his fingers furled and touched both ends of his chest near his shoulders. He uttered prayers to Vahsani. The Great Protector’s amulets, from which harms of all kinds kept their distance, were now tucked on his shoulders. After donning the Almighty Three’s blessing, Sengkolo proceeded. He walked around the stage, passing other Danker officials who were conducting the same brief ritual.
In front of the door toward the Representative Hall were two Danker security officers armed with non-lethal blunt weapons. Unlike Sengkolo, they didn't wear any armor. They greeted Sengkolo with a smile and nod. Sengkolo took that further by giving his hand. The two security guards looked at each other in astonishment before shaking Sengkolo's hand. He returned their smiles. One of them then opened the door toward the amphitheater chamber. All eyes turned on him as he entered. A speech was ongoing, the speaker stood on the teak podium opposite of the half-spherical amphitheater. Sengkolo took the steps nearest to him and marched to the back. He navigated to the column of seats behind his Councilors.
Great House Councilors and Provincial Representatives together were called De-Wan. Sengkolo was neither. He was allowed to enter because he was invited.
Sengkolo took off his helmet and put it on the brass-edged teak table before him. The table’s top is as thick as his hands. Extruded carving of leaves and flowers gave its side a unique look that Sengkolo liked to fidget with. He sat down and shook hands with the Danker beside him.
“All good, sir?” Sengkolo said to him with a smile. He suppressed his voice as much as possible so as not to distract the hearing.
“Been worse.” He chuckled.
Sengkolo gave a thumbs up. He then paid attention to the podium for the first time. The Almighty Three icon etched on it was enveloped by a single crescent. The brass outline was a perfect match to the dark-colored teak that made up the podium. The embossed carving on the riser depicted Dankers of all kinds: farmers, builders, hunters, soldiers, scholars, statesmen, and eventually the sultan. The sultan and his retainers were engraved on the bottom riser. The higher the steps, the lower the social strata depicted. Mangkuprawan V, the present-day sultan, once passed an action to flip the order. That was rejected by the whole De-Wan.
The De-Wan was led by Lord De-Wan. He was the one giving the speech for the session. His name was Paripurno Ra Tau Parno. He was elected by the Danker people. Candidates for Lord De-Wan had to come from Provincial Representatives, who tended to have no alignments with the Great Houses. House members were not allowed to vote for Lord De-Wan. Sengkolo saw the passing of that law with his own eyes when he was a Councilor. It was he who had proposed that to reduce corruption in the legislative body. He earned a couple of assassination attempts but managed to weather them all.
“Beanrice price rises again.”
“I noticed that Mr. Mulyo,” Sengkolo replied.
“Those Pringgitan warriors are hoarding them.”
“But you can't fight with your stomach empty, can you?”
“I get that this is frontline shenanigans.” Mulyo Nganti Minggat Sadoyo leaned closer to Sengkolo. “My analyst reported that they were seizing a third of our total harvest last season.”
“Concerning.” Sengkolo said.
“Tell Mr. Santoso to do something about it. Villagers of Enri Shores are starving as their crops were brought to feed the urban settlers.”
“Give me a scale.”
“Well…” Mulyo jerked his head. “Three.”
“Not an emergency I see.”
“But you can't just let members of Great House Pringgitan in the Legion do whatever they want because they are holding off the Wankers. You should have known that holding the Firdha Ridge is a collective effort. It just happened that the majority of those soldiers were aligned with Great House Pringgitan. And the margin isn't even great: just slightly more than half of the whole Legion.”
Sengkolo pulled out a small tome from his pack that was still slung on his shoulder. He placed the leather book on top of the table, its size was one and a half of his hand. He fished a pencil from his cloth pocket. His hands flipped through pages worth of soft crystallized-basalt writings–social issues that he had heard from his peers. Sengkolo knew that Mulyo despised Great House Pringgitan. They struck him as being arrogant and pretentious. Mulyo himself had no ties with any of the Great Houses. Sengkolo couldn't be so sure though. Problems like these sometimes deserve to be left unsolved. Nowadays, everyone was trying to get as much as they could out of the weakened sultanate as soon as they could. Mulyo could have established new ties with Great House Pendhopo that Sengkolo wasn't aware of. The Danker representative did sound like he was upset about businesses not going well back home.
“I'll talk about this later with Santoso.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Mr. Sengkolo.” Mulyo nodded at him.
Sengkolo nodded back. He then turned his attention to Paripurno. The Lord De-Wan was eighty-two years old. Just like him, his ambition didn’t set with age. Sengkolo caught up with him at Getu University in Dah Sani, the capital of Nadin Strip. The Lord De-Wan had a reputation of being the Head of the Getu Apprentice Association. He had an aptitude for ruling. Sengkolo had helped him expand his governing portfolio in secrecy and through a third party.
Sengkolo began to look at him in concern. There would be an election next year to put a new Lord De-Wan into office. Paripurno couldn't be re-elected as he would have fulfilled his two service periods for Lord De-Wan by then. Sengkolo hadn't found a suitable replacement. He placed Paripurno on Lord De-Wan's seat as a proxy to preserve people's interests. Testimonies provided by the third party he had hired suggested that Paripurno would honor the will of the Dankers. He gambled on those testimonies and conferred with Santoso and Sulistyo to spread verbal tales that overemphasized his qualities. Now that Paripurno’s term was in its twilight, Sengkolo worried that he wouldn’t find a replacement with a coinciding vision.
A mallet knock ended Paripurno’s speech. Sengkolo watched as the Danker withdrew into his seat. Paripurno briefly turned his gaze toward Sengkolo. He only nodded with his lips flattened. Sengkolo had been so immersed in his thoughts that he missed the speech.
“What was he saying again?” Sengkolo asked Mulyo.
“The recent trading regulation didn't stop Imperial traders from smuggling raw resources from Mananggal. Dalem requested a loan from the treasury to renew their apparatuses. Langgar looked forward to more sacrifices to the Almighty Three for the Danker's salvation. And the Sultan demanded to double the garrison to combat the increasing abduction by the Wankers.”
“And the Pringgitan?”
“Manpower shortages.”
They demanded more members for their Great House for the attrition against the Wankers. Surely the Legion reinforcements sent to the fortresses of Firdha Ridge regularly were enough. Great House Pringgitan liked to think that there were no other factions in Mananggal able to facilitate pious, aspiring warriors better than them. Sengkolo hadn't heard anything from Santoso about this. Although the Pringgitan Grandmaster would love more members for his Great House, he would agree that member expansion wasn't necessary to generate stalwart warriors for the attrition. Santoso could issue an order to his House Lords to simulate Pringgitan’s drill to the Legions on Firdha Ridge.
One of the Provincial Representatives stood up at a breakneck speed. His name was Priyadi Puri Griya Padi. He gave a salute toward Paripurno.
“Permission to speak, My Lord.” He said.
“Granted.” Paripurno’s staff beside him replied.
“The speech I am about to deliver has nothing to do with the conversation that we had planned for today. But I’m confident that the urgency outweighs the points as stated by Lord Paripurno.”
“The stage is yours, Mr. Priyadi,” Paripurno replied.
“Thank you, My Lord.” Priyadi then opened the bundle of papers on his table. “As you may have seen, my colleagues from Kanan Tusk don’t attend this session.” Only now Sengkolo noticed the empty seat all around Priyadi. “This failure, however, isn’t without a cause. They are all on their way to our home province to oversee matters that had just emanated a week ago.” Priyadi paused to look at the audience in the Representative Hall. “Gethuk Gun attacks on Ma-Listya.”
Priyadi’s last sentence sent a wave of shock throughout the chamber. Everyone who was leisurely paying attention to him suddenly leaned forward. But no one was hit harder by the news than Sengkolo.
“You haven’t heard?” Mulyo asked Sengkolo, seemingly noticing the Danker’s evident astonishment.
Sengkolo remained silent as he tried to grapple with the news.
Gethuk Gun was the Wanker’s field artillery. It outranged the Legion’s Sunduk torsion siege engine and required no line of sight to its target. It fired like a cannon of the Wei Han empire and the projectile exploded like their mortar. Whatever caught its projectile would always be irrecoverable.
A Pendhopo Councilor, Madya Mangun Dulur Nganti Raya, raised his hand, asking for permission to speak.
“We should have heard about it four to five days ago.”
“Why yes Mr. Madya,” Priyadi said. “I am also perplexed at the slow response of our journalists. We, however, are suspicious that the Wankers had something to do with the delayed report. Local civil forces had begun investigating the matters for days now since the suspicion was raised. I propose to send forces to Ma-Listya to ensure that any Wanker threat within our people is exterminated for good.”
Paripurno then turned his attention toward Sengkolo. All the other members of the Represenative Hall followed Lord De-Wan’s gesture one by one. Of course, they would. It was a military matter. Sengkolo didn’t plan on becoming the center of attention for today’s session. The bright-amber eyes fixated on the Danker forced him to do otherwise. He knew what they were wondering. Why was there no report from the garrison stationed at Ma-Listya? Sengkolo should have gotten a Resonance from the general in charge of the Twelfth Legion Group–the Legion stationed in the proximity of Ma-Listya. His aide would’ve filled him in on that if he missed it.
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Ma-Listya was the capital of Kanan Tusk. Eleven million Dankers lived there. If there were Gethuk Gun attacks in the city, that meant the Wankers had slipped through Firdha Ridge and established Gethuk Gun emplacements in the range of Ma-Listya. Sengkolo was skeptical. The lack of reports showed that the Legion didn't spot those guns, which was odd. Gethuk Guns were as big as the Representative Hall. It was unlikely that his scouts missed them.
Sengkolo was suspicious seeing that Priyadi was the only Kanan Tusk representative in the chamber. He claimed that the representatives of Kanan Tusk were getting their hands dirty on the matter. This could be a ploy by the Wankers. Legion withdrawal would weaken a defensive line, which gave the Wankers an opportunity to punch through it. Sengkolo clasped his hands. If this wasn’t Representative Hall, he would have crippled that Danker and sealed him away for interrogation. Sengkolo beseeched Vahsani to suppress his wrathful aura.
Sengkolo then stood up and asked for permission to speak.
“The Twelfth Legion Group, consisting of Fifth Armored Legion, Thirty-Third Temple Guards Legion, Seventy-Seventh Sunduk Legion, and the One-Hundred-First Skirmisher Legion, totaling around one hundred thousand Dankers, was stationed in the region. Not one of them sent me a report of any attacks in the capital.” Sengkolo confessed.
A Pringgitan Councilor asked for permission to speak. His name was Handono Andhuke Dowo Ber Kencono.
“This ineptitude of the Legion justifies more members for us. We refrain from concealing information crucial to the state.”
Mulyo suddenly stood up and asked for permission to speak. “False claim.” He said with conviction. “You keep on neglecting to answer the whereabouts of the Beanrice harvest this season.”
“I’m not sure about what you are saying. I’ve told you many times that they’re in good hands.” Handono replied.
“Hands that starve people should not be considered ‘good’ hands,” Mulyo said.
It looked like Mulyo was about to add something to his points. Sengkolo frowned at him briefly before turning his attention back to Handono. He proceeded to speak, denying Mulyo the opportunity to elaborate.
“With due respect Mr. Handono,” Sengkolo nodded. “I can’t allow you to discredit the hard work of my soldiers. You don’t have to be a Pringgitan to serve Makmu with loyalty.”
“Fair point, but a Pringgitan does it better.”
“Better in what, exactly?” Madya joined in. “Your warriors are the ones responsible to prevent any Wanker incursion beyond the Firdha Ridge. If there was a Gethuk Gun stationed on our side of that ridge, then you’re not doing your job.”
“Mr. Madya,” Handono turned toward the Pendhopo Councilor. “The Gethuk Gun was able to slip through our watch because our warriors in Fort Nelongso are lacking in numbers.”
Paripurno raised his hand. He gestured for the Councilors to stop arguing and let Sengkolo have his dialogue with Priyadi.
“Mr. Sengkolo,” Paripurno said. “Perhaps you may suggest something regarding these alleged Gethuk Gun attacks in Ma-Listya?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Paripurno.” Priyadi cut in. “These are not allegations. The reports are true. The Wankers are at our gates.”
“I will not allocate any Legion from anywhere in Mananggal,” Sengkolo stated. “I will not risk Wankers’ attack on the vulnerable point of our line caused by this transfer. I will, however, attempt to raise a new Legion for your cause.”
“And let the people of Ma-Listya live under terror and bombardment for weeks?” Priyadi looked at Sengkolo in disgust.
“Can you explain then why my Legions didn’t send any report at the advent of the attack?” Sengkolo glared at Priyadi.
“Telemages of the Twelfth Legion Group Command had tried to contact you but the Resonance kept on failing. We had to resort to couriers after three days of fruitless attempts.”
In the silence of Sengkolo's perplexion, Paripurno took the opportunity.
“Mr. Sengkolo, perhaps you've missed the Resonance from the Twelfth Legion Group.”
Sengkolo gave a frown to Paripurno. “My aide had never missed anything. She always updates me on every Resonance I missed.” He said. “I have to convene with her to resolve this.” The Danker then looked back at Priyadi. “For now, I can only send an investigation party to confirm this incident.”
“We need the Legions, Mr. Sengkolo.” Priyadi insisted.
“I understand your concern, Mr. Priyadi. This event has no doubt earned its importance. I look forward to rectifying the situation as much as you do. But I will do so without sacrificing our attrition against the Wankers.” Sengkolo said. “Full stop.”
Paripurno repeatedly switched his attention from Sengkolo to Priyadi in the silence. “Anything else, Mr. Sengkolo, Mr. Priyadi?”
“No, My Lord.” Priyadi said.
Sengkolo nodded to both Priyadi and the Lord De-Wan.
“I will entrust this matter to Mr. Sengkolo,” Paripurno stated. “He will be responsible for subverting this emergency and providing us with every detail of development regarding the situation. The Directive Letter will be issued shortly after this session.” Paripurno slammed his mallet.
“On to the next issue…” He continued.
***
Sengkolo hadn’t left Nur-Fadhil. He reserved a room in a High District inn. It was a laborious task as he aimed for the lowest price. He could afford the fanciest of stays. But he only needed a space for himself to wait. An average room would do. He had the idea of staying somewhere in the Middle or Low Districts. However, his objective was in the High Districts. When midnight came, he left his room and headed outside. The female receptionist waved her respect as Sengkolo passed by. He replied like usual, a nod with a half-smile.
He decided to make his way on foot and left his Nyambek in the inn’s stable. The High Districts were perhaps the most comfortable place to live in all of Mananggal. The paved streets were as clean as a Danker offspring who just come out of a womb. Decorative trees, bushes, pedestals, and statues were ordered in a way that wasn’t only aesthetically pleasing but also provided convenience in navigation. As soon as the sun set, settlers of the flamboyant districts locked themselves inside their luxurious villas and manors. No Dankers could resist lying on a spongy bed overlaid with a blanket woven from Domrolls’ wools during the cold nights of the island continent. It was quality time for families after all. But Sengkolo couldn’t dismiss the decadent aura emitted by their houses.
The frames of Paripurno’s manor were built out of a refined Dhopo Ngawang’s exoskeleton. They resembled a couple of small mesas with bulging tops and sides stitched together. Sengkolo gave the creature’s leftovers to him when he won the Lord De-Wan seat. He originally intended to showcase it somewhere in the High Districts, adding to the collection of statues in the area. Paripurno at first offered a hefty amount of gold to display it on his empty estate. That gold never entered Sengkolo’s pocket. The Lord De-Wan’s allegiance did instead. Sengkolo was still in awe at the talents involved in interpolating the sections of the Dhopo Ngawang exoskeleton into a functioning shelter.
The manor dusted-gold walls blended well with the peanut exoskeleton that made up its frame. Their coarse texture gave off the atmosphere of Mount Wardhana’s ashes. Basalts were cleverly cut to form the curves of the structure in an attempt to mimic the body of Dhopo Ngawang. Polished ironwoods formed a distinct outline that preserved the natural feel of Paripurno’s slanted manor. Translucent emerald windows complemented the building like a Langgar kinship talisman on a young female Pandhita. Usually, houses in the High Districts followed the traditional design of a wide lawn with a rectangular pavilion for guests. Paripurno’s lawn was wide but lacked the pavilion. There were no fences enclosing the premises either. It was a practical Imperial design.
Sengkolo marched through the lawn and onto the doorstep. When he knocked on the door, Paripurno opened it. Nothing was exchanged except indifferent gazes. Paripurno briefly looked over his shoulder.
“Give me a moment.”
Sengkolo nodded. When Paripurno returned, he opened the door wide. He gestured for Sengkolo to enter. Paripurno then locked the door, thrice.
“Have you had dinner?” Paripurno asked.
“You're too kind, Purno,” Sengkolo replied warmly.
“That's too bad,” Paripurno said. He gestured for Sengkolo to sit down on the guest room couch. “Indah smoked Kun Skimmer meat tonight.” He continued after he sat down.
“Tempting…” Sengkolo jerked his head.
Paripurno chuckled. “Kitchen is that way.” He pointed. “You still remember right?”
“Sure, thank you. But I'll drink from your bathtub if I'm thirsty.”
The two Danker laughed. Sengkolo and Paripurno sat across from each other. Between them was an elliptic table made out of teak. The top was encased with a translucent emerald screen. Below that screen was a relief depicting the mythical colossal crustacean–Patih Lawu–on top of tendrils that encircled the creature. The brass chandelier on the ceiling was wheel-shaped. Silver and pearl-ly ornaments crowded the home decor like Manthuk berries during harvest. The frilly silk carpet on Sengkolo's feet had an alternating hue, from dark crimson to light beige. Meticulous overlapping motifs of vines, leaves, flowers, and mushrooms gave identity not just to the carpet but also to the whole guest room. The magenta couch Sengkolo sat on was softer than his bed at the inn. It had cylindrical armrests and was decorated with several fruit carvings on its frame.
“Alright so…” Paripurno cleared his throat. “Is this going to be about today's Directive Letter?”
Sengkolo shook his head. He then leaned closer. “Is your family asleep?”
Paripurno stood up from his seat and walked upstairs. It took a moment for him to return.
“Go ahead,” Paripurno said.
Although Sengkolo had helped him earn the Lord De-Wan seat, he rarely talked to him directly. There was always a third party that facilitated their communication. After decades of knowing each other, this was only the second time Sengkolo visited Paripurno's house personally. He had to conceal his strings on Paripurno as much as possible. Sengkolo would never have thought of coming over to his manor without an interest in mind, one that involved Paripurno. The Lord De-Wan understood that. Sengkolo’s last visit was about thirty years ago, just after Paripurno's ascension to Lord De-Wan. That night, Sengkolo had ensured that Paripurno would align himself with Sengkolo, Santoso, and Sulistyo in the name of the Dankers. It had allowed the trio to influence the discussion among the Lord De-Wan staff; national policies never left the Grand Joglo if Sengkolo, Santoso, and Sulistyo denied. This time, Sengkolo sought to expand that control further.
“Prepare to appoint me as Pandhawa,” Sengkolo whispered.
Paripurno frowned for a moment. Silence reverberated across the guest room. “Bold statement.”
Pandhawa was the Great Champion of the Dankers, the Grand Lord of the Great Houses. A Pandhawa had full authority over all states’ institutions and no one could object to his decree. Not even the Sultan. A Pandhawa was appointed by the De-Wan and agreed by the Sultan. The latter was probably the most difficult of the procedures as the Sultan gave away his authority with barely any guarantee that the Pandhawa wouldn't turn on him. It was a perilous move, hence the situation had to be on par or perhaps worse. It was a last gamble by the Dankers to save themselves. This title lasted until whatever crisis the Danker faced was vanquished. The Pandhawa were then expected to relinquish their authority back to the Sultanate. It was for this reason that the move was highly risky. There were no other measures to force a Pandhawa to surrender their power other than armed confrontation.
However, no Pandhawas in Danker's history had ever relinquished their power. That was because the title was only invoked once. The bearer was no other than Mangkuprawan I. He united the scattered Houses and the Wanderers. He led them in a war against the Kishinzoku and triumphed. The victory secured Danker’s full ownership of Mananggal and Mangkuprawan’s ascension to the throne. This was around the time when the Great Transformation happened. There were no records of the De-Wan asking Mangkuprawan I to step down from being a Pandhawa. He held both titles during his two thousand years reign.
Since there was only one Pandhawa ever in the Danker society, the title was prone to reverence. A lot of Dankers considered the title to be sacred. They even deemed the appointment of another Pandhawa a blasphemy. It was as if the title was equal to a prophetic leader sent down from the heavens where the Almighty Three settled to lead the Dankers. Sengkolo spent the entire last night begging forgiveness to the Almighty Three for coming up with this trespassing. He prayed to Vhisa to acknowledge his malice-less intention. He prayed to Visha to not shed her embrace when he defiled Mangkuprawan I’s title. He prayed to Vahsani to lend him His shield and strength to repel those who seek to uproot the Danker society.
“Don’t tell me you did those shenanigans in Ma-Listya,” Paripurno said.
“To stir up emergencies?” Sengkolo shook his head. “We already have too much for that.”
“Wouldn't that help justify the rise of a Pandhawa?”
“It was…too petty to be my play.”
“Professionals have standards, eh?” Paripurno closed his mouth as he yawned. “But real talk, Mr. Sengkolo. What do you plan to do? It's not that people wouldn't accept another Pandhawa. It's why they have to choose you as a Pandhawa.”
“Purno,” Sengkolo leaned closer. “You would choose me as a Pandhawa, wouldn't you?”
“Let's say that, I don't see any other worthy candidate. Mr. Santoso was quick to anger and hard to forgive. Mr. Sulistyo was ingenious and no doubt a powerful mage. But he barely shows up anywhere.” Paripurno shrugged. “I'm left with no choice here.”
“That is why I said prepare, Purno,” Sengkolo said. “The Search and Discover Corps I sent had spoken to my son…that they had reached Mount Wardhana.”
Paripurno’s face tightened. On normal occasions, reaching the base of Mount Wardhana was already a feat worth recognizing. With hostile creatures, jagged terrains, rivers of lava, and a constant ash blizzard infesting Wardhana’s Throne, it took the strongest of equipment, skill, and will to thrive. Even the Wanderers, Dankers who had settled around the region since their arrival to Mananggal, refused to do it out of fear. The unit Sengkolo had sent managed more. They successfully avoided Wankers attention while they made the trek. Sengkolo did send the best of the best from the Search and Discover Corps. He gambled on it even though he knew that they would most likely fail. But they succeeded. Paripurno leaned closer toward Sengkolo, recognizing the milestone of the adventurers.
“They did?”
“They did.” Sengkolo nodded expressing how invigorating the news is to him. “There has been a lull in the frontline for ten years. Except for attacks from the Gethuk Guns, followers of Thong no longer attempted to storm Firdha Ridge. That is not a justification to reduce our vigilance, however. I sent those Dankers there to investigate.”
“And?”
“Their investigation is still in progress. But I refuse to stay idle while they risk their lives in the heart of Thong's stronghold. Whatever they will find down there, I want our people to be ready for it.”
Paripurno looked at him silently.
“Do you understand now why I need the title? I am certain that those Wankers are brewing something malicious down there. We have to act swiftly to bring an end to it.”
A Pandhawa also had legal immunity. They were allowed, even expected, to commit unorthodox measures if it meant ending the crisis. Being the Commander-in-Chief of the Legions, he was still subject to trespasses. There were still some restrictions that Sengkolo deemed detrimental to his effort to save the Sultanate. He had to get rid of it. The Dankers had to oblige his words if they wished to prevail against Great House Thong. Sengkolo saw no one else was as capable as him to manage that.
“Mr. Sengkolo.” Paripurno gestured at him. “I hope you're aware that you're not alone in this fight. I know the situation is terrible but I still think that…” Paripurno paused. “I feel like you're overexerting yourself on this matter. Sure, I would name you Pandhawa if I could. But I think that you could still negotiate with the other bodies of the Sultanate to have things your way. Mangkuprawan V doesn't really care anyway.”
Sengkolo clenched his fists and frowned. How could one not overexert themselves when their home was in danger? Everyone should. Their ancestors fought tooth and nail to secure Mananggal. And they were just giving it away to the enemy? That was disrespectful. Sengkolo abhorred this unpatriotic behavior. Paripurno was the last person he expected to exhibit that.
The Lord De-Wan flinched, seemingly noticing Sengkolo’s fuming head. Sengkolo gently turned to his left. There was a candle holder with an active candle standing on a brass-framed drawer. On the wall just behind the candle hung a canvas. Painted on it was Paripurno, his wife, and three young Dankers. One of them was female, the rest were males. They were all in their adolescence. Sengkolo thought of holding that candle dangerously close to the painting. He had to remind Paripurno of the person who had helped him become Lord De-Wan in the first place. His mind shouted at him to jump into action. But his body refused. He was no Santoso. Sengkolo only took a deep breath.
“Mr. Sengkolo?” Paripurno asked.
“I'm sorry.” Sengkolo sighed. “I'm sorry.”
Paripurno stood up and left him in the guest room. Sengkolo wasn't actually alone. He was forced to do things by himself. The Dankers were tired of the war. The Great Houses were returning to their businesses, and the Sultan didn't care. They gave him the illusion of being alone. There were only a few people he could trust. And with the Wankers growing in strength, he felt like he had to seize all the power he could get to offset the harmful development.
Paripurno returned with two mugs filled with water. He gave one to Sengkolo.
Sengkolo had promised that he would drink from Paripurno’s bathroom when he got thirsty. He was pretty reluctant to accept it. A little shove from the Lord De-Wan rectified that. Sengkolo took the mug and emptied the content in one go. He ended with a deep breath.
“You're tired my friend,” Paripurno said. “Take a break.”
Sengkolo turned to Paripurno with a downcast expression.
“You said prepare right?” Paripurno said. “I'll do my best for that, while we wait for updates from the brave Dankers you have sent there. The decision to appoint you a Pandhawa will depend on their findings. But if you had to be one, I would ensure the process only took a single mallet slam.”
“Good enough.” Sengkolo pushed a smile through his face. “Thank you for your cooperation.”