Nusantara Throne - Senandung Kebangkitan
Ruswara
“Why don't you eat it?” ruswara asked as he watched the various fruits and meats presented on the Pancha room table. The room was almost overcrowded, various books containing rontal sheets stacked in every corner of the room.
Pancha was starving, she looked at Ruswara's face in lethargy. Ruswara immediately turned away, Ruswara did not particularly like her face to be looked at for long. It is enough to admit the ugliness of his face is not as happy as his words.
Pancha refused the meal, the dish served was too special for her. “Hamba has no right to eat it.”
“Lantas what rights do my people need to enjoy a meal?”
“It is not my intention to offend your kindness, Mahamantri Ruswara,” he replied sighing. The wrinkles of his face twitched. “I'm just a rancher and a commoner. This dish is not intended for people like I.”
Ruswara took one piece of rooster thigh, “you are a humble village chief. Look how thick this chicken is? Whoever takes care of this chicken must be someone who understands how to be grateful. In the midst of the drought in our country, a people whom you call a commoner is able to raise these chickens, you are the man, Pancha. Come here, this is the resource you have produced for us courtiers, eat.”
Pancha rose stiffly, her nose still sore, the blood on her nose seemed to freeze but Ruswara's words were like a soothing morning breeze. For decades, Pancha witnessed so many bad attitudes inflicted by both the king and the first child, Mahendra. However, never once did that attitude reflect on the king's youngest son.
“But, what if Mahamantri Mahendra..”
“Nobody will know, I've made sure,” Ruswara's smile emanated.
In response Pancha the elder finally ate some meat delicately. Even as a farmer, he almost forgot how meat tastes. Most of his chickens were paid to the government in tribute, and he obtained only small amounts of metal. The money was just enough to buy a few cups of rice and cut the kettle.
With teary eyes Pancha said in a soft word, “please, we hope you are the one who replaces King Sanjaya someday.”
“I cannot decide that,” he got up and looked towards the window of the room, the yellow arid land stretched endlessly, barren and miserable. “But I want to change the fate of this country.”
“Then I will be the first to stand behind you Mr. Ruswara.”
“It's not that easy,” Ruswara says softly. “Currently the state of the palace is not so good. Ayahhanda is getting crazy, all his plans will indeed bring this country to the brink of destruction. However, even my soldiers still swore allegiance to him. I can't defy, not in this situation or I'll end up in jail down there.”
Ruswara's mood was too somber to use common sense. He was beset with shame, in the hereditary rule of the kingdom, the youngest son had no right to precede the authority of the first son. But the sufferings of the people of Tarlingga are like insults that ignite his conscience.
The king should be a beloved figure, as well as his sons, so why is the intelligence whack two important figures in this country?
He should have remembered what his father had said, anyone who opposed would go into his dungeon including him. The king's sincerity is like a puppet joke that does not end. Should he secretly move the hearts of the people to speak out against the father with him.
Ruswara sighed, his people were now starving, they did not even have the energy to lift the hoe. I need to be able to strengthen their hearts first.
“I have Pancha plan, and it's at very high risk.”
“Say mahamantri.”
“If the time comes when Mahendra goes with his father to propose to Princess Nirmala, I want you to help me convince the residents to.”.
“For?”
“Download palace.”
Pancha's hands trembled violently. He didn't think it was a joke. Highlight the fiery eyes of Ruswara gives the impression of high self-esteem of a prince. A king's youngest son willingly betrays his father for the future of his people, a terrifying prospect.
“You are the village chief, you know the inhabitants much better than me, tell them my hidden resolve to change your fate. Unfortunately at this time I can't let you out of the room because Mahendra still thinks you're dead. We must wait, as father and Mahendra leave the palace.”
Ruswara wanted to know if the plot sounded terrible enough for Pancha, and whether he would conspire to carry out the rebellion in the future. Had Pancha really been the first to stand with him. Ruswara had to think of a more skillful and subtle way to defeat his father's loyal soldiers.
“Then Wira should know about this.”
“Who are you?”
“My first son Sir, tell him I'm alive and he'll tell you a secret about us.” Pancha said.
The room was silent, as silent as the sand in the palace courtyard. Pancha did not doubt Ruswara, he had seen Ruswara's love for his people surpass all the nobles in Tarlingga. At least he felt the prince should know about it.
“What secret is Pancha?”
“Hamba will let the Wira speak for you.”
Ruswara nodded, then she felt that there was a presence of someone outside the room. Just a few moments later there was a knock on the door. “Don't be afraid, he's not Mahendra. This room is where the books and history of Tarlingga were written by my ancestors. You can see the piles almost in the corner of this room, Mahendra does not like to read it.”
Welino entered the room, she was wearing a scarf bearing the banner of Tarlingga, a green, double-edged spear, her hard face looking grim this afternoon. “Queen Dyah wants to meet you Mr.”
Ruswara nodded towards Welino.
“I resigned Pancha, take care of your health, I will visit you tomorrow, after meeting Wira.”
“Bless your sincerity Mahamantri, thank you.”
He's out with Welino. They walked towards the queen's hall through the long hallway of the palace, past the ancient brick walls and andesite carved carved carved lances. During the trip Welino still looks restless.
“Welino?”
“Queen still hit because of last night.”
“So much as I am,” Ruswara smiled weakly. “Amazing indeed, how the mother continues to bear the burdens that the father did. Any word on your application departure?”
With an anxious look, Welino nodded, “Two days more, and this afternoon the soldiers will come to all the houses of the population to..”.
“Rooting tribute?” cetus Ruswara shook his head, then his hands folded on his chest, as if he was holding back the emotional explosion inside his body.
“Hamba did not expect things to be like this,” Welino sighed.
“About Mahendra, today he plans to get drunk.”
“Let that happen, in the meantime we have to protect Pancha, that person is the key to the success of my plan.”
“Do you intend to tell Her Majesty the queen?”
Ruswara shrugs, “Tough choice, I want to keep it a secret.”
Finally they arrived in front of the queen's room, two soldiers standing guard, bowing as Ruswara arrived at the queen's door. Ruswara then patted Welino on the shoulder and whispered, “I want you to keep an eye on her brother ahead of his departure, even though he is rejoicing over the fake news, I want you to ensure the safety of Pancha's son.”
Welino weighed the request, “Hamba is ready to carry out Mr.” Welino's footsteps disappeared in the distance, heading towards the palace hall.
Ruswara knocked and opened the door. As he entered the room, the sound of a bird shouting was heard on the terrace of the queen's palace, the chirping and sad. Even the flock of birds was willing to beg to hope for a compassionate man in the midst of that long suffering. Ruswara flashed while setting his gaze on the queen.
The sound of sobs still being heard came from the queen's bed covered in scarves and fragrances. The queen wept at the pain and hurt caused by the king. Dayang-dayang tried to calm down, but apparently the queen never ran out of tears. His eyes became swollen and swollen until his face looked very old.
“Mother,” greeting Ruswara, the tone is soft and calm.
“Mother knows what you are going to do my son,” he said still sobbing.
“There's what mother, I didn't even say anything to you.”
“Do you think last night blinded my son?” with puffy eyes he looked seriously at Ruswara. “Your words, and the look in your eyes that night were like the tip of a spear drawn in your father's face.”
Ruswara approached and sat down next to the queen. He saw the face of his mother, if he did not hold her back, perhaps he had already dragged the king to his knees begging for forgiveness.
“You are my son, you are my flesh and blood, all that blazes in your chest, I feel it too, as if the heat were burning my chest.”
“Delayed.”
“Whatever you plan, do not make war in this family, my son.”
“I agree with you mother, but our people have limits, they have long suffered, the drought has tormented their lives and the attitude of fatherhanda aggravated the suffering. Whatever decision I take, all for the sake of the people of Tarlingga.”
Queen Dyah inhaled a very heavy breath, hearing their name had also made the queen have a headache. “Lantas do you want to flood the palace with blood from our soldiers and people?”
“Mother, our palace is like heaven in the midst of embers, but see where we stand? They cannot taste the meat we eat, nor the sweet fruit we enjoy. I want this palace to open its doors to them, and indeed if I have to, I will take the horses in the palace along with the groceries, and I will take them away from Tarlingga.”
“Where will you take them, my son? Towards the barren land with other calamities?” The queen asked with a sobbing.
“Green country in the South.”
The queen got up from her bed, she headed to a dark ulin-wood table, then gulped down water. After placing the cup the queen felt her own arm, she could feel her body growing thinner.
For nearly thirty years since her marriage to Sanjaya, she had so longed for the land of Mayakarsa. Her memory was fixed on sunny days with her sister Mayang, picking wild jasmine flowers in the palace courtyard and blowing dandelion flowers. Dyah does not regret his decision to marry Sanjaya, long before Sanjaya turns into a maniacal man. However, Dyah still loved her like the first time she met him.
The dry warm air swirled around the room as he stood facing Ruswara. His youngest son has a different face to his first child. He was snub-nosed with a plume of bruised red pimples growing on his chin and neck. Her lips were thick with eyes that resembled her late mother, but the ugly face was different from her heart. Somehow Ruswara seems fragile when compared to Mahendra.
“My son, your nature is very similar to your grandfather, Manjaya.”
Now his look changed with a bunch of confusing questions. What he will face later is like a simalakama fruit, a choice that is equally heavy although it can no doubt change the compassion of its people, but can also be a disaster.
“Mother, Tarlingga is not a legacy land that can be divided and divided for several people. This kingdom must be intact, our people are part of this kingdom, if I just keep silent to see them scavenging for food outside the palace, which will thus trigger more upheaval than this.”
Queen Dyah finally came to a choice. Indeed, a decision of his son can be considered, because he is one of the legitimate heirs of Tarlingga. He will be King to his wife. If there is hope, Dyah only wants the disease in the palace to be a sweet fruit for the lives of its people.
“But you must be careful my son, the warrior Tarlingga swore allegiance to your father, they can be invisible eyes and ears.”
“I still have Welino, his heart is as honest as mine for the affairs of the people,” Ruswara said as he clenched his hands.
“Even Welino or you will not be able to fight against hundreds of soldiers in this palace my son,” The queen began to fidget, but something made him realize. “Are you going to do it on that proposal?”
“True.”
At the same time, full boisterous sounds were airing outside the room. Welino knocked on the door of the queen who was then welcome to enter.
“What's Welino? Your arrival is like a storm in the morning,” the queen looked at him anxiously.
“Tabards arrive from the main gate of the palace, Sire. An accompaniment of dark horses from Nusantara arrived, the troops were led by Pragantara, he requested permission to enter the palace kedaton.”
“For the sake of Tarlingga, what is this? Where's husband?”
Welino hesitantly replied, “He is rumored to be with a bitch in tavern.”
Queen Dyah endured her grief and tried to look tough, “What did those accompaniments come here for?”
“Give important news, Her Majesty, they want to have a meeting with the king and the regent of Tarlingga,” Welino half-kneel, he then continued, “About Princess Sri Nirmala, she is rumored to have disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” Ruswara hatch.
“No, more precisely..., kidnapped.”
***