The Red Jasmine Revolution

14. Battle

Zaw climbed the watchtower, reasoning that if battle was to break out he would not be able to move very fast on his legs, so he would be of most use in a stationary position, even if it did leave him a little exposed and the climb up sent shivers of pain through his bad leg. A quiver of arrows and a bow were strapped to his back and he was both excited and afraid to be in a situation where he might have to use them.

When he reached the top he peered over cautiously towards the other side of the wall and counted twenty three men, led by Gunthaw with Dow Som near behind him.

They were close to the wall, well within an arrow's distance, which suggested they did not expect to fight.

"Who am I speaking to?" asked Gunthaw to the wall. Some of the men behind the camp walls breathed a sigh of relief, as the bright tone of his voice did not suggest a man who was about to launch an attack. However, the more perceptive in the camp could hear that behind that friendly tone was a simmering anger he was trying hard to keep in check. No one had ever defied him before and it felt like an attack on his very self that they would dare to stand against them. His name was in danger.

"Speak to all of us" said a voice from the wall

"Is that Danh I can hear? Danh, cousin of mine! Come out from behind this wall and lets talk. Don't you remember how happy you were when I gave you this job?"

"Yes I was happy then" said Danh "But then you told Dow Som to make us work an extra four days a month."

"And we didn't even get anything extra in our purses for it," added Kon, shouting over the wall.

"Kon! Is that you my old friend? Remember when we fought together on the mountain slopes? We were brothers then!" Gunthaw could not see Kon through the wall, but he held his arms open in a gesture of friendship.

Kon peered at Gunthaw through a gap in the wood. For almost twenty years he had tried to forget that war, but guilt was like a nail that kept the memory pinned to the wall of his soul. He could not tell you why they were fighting, but he remembered with crystal clarity the look in the boy's eyes as Kon's sword drove into his chest. How the pupils skittered with fear and then froze, forever, into hopelessness. They had won that battle on those heathered mountain crags eighteen years ago and then they brought sunset to the Mountain town. Gunthaw had led that final mission with a burning torch in his hand, eyes inflamed with a new lust.

Kon had been set on guard duty, which was there way of making him participate and thus share the complicity. He had gone home after the war. Cried. Cried more. His older brother had inherited the family homestead so he went to work as an oozie, which suited him fine, he was glad to be away from everyone. Yet even in the forest, the sound of a log cracking on the fire, the smell of the mountain heather on the eastern wind, or when an elephant's wail found that uncanny tone that sounded like a women's cry, the memories would rush back to him and he would collapse in a bundle of panic and shame.

On that day it was the wild glint in Gunthaw's eye that triggered the memory that haunted Kon like the roots of a tree haunt the soil. He didn't collapse this time, the Buttersweet rebellion had given him courage. He climbed to the top of the guard tower and looked Gunthaw in the eye. His body shook as he shouted but he did not break eye contact.

"You were never my brother, you were and you are a disgusting, low, man. You speak of brothers and friends, but you treated us as little more than the elephants, just animals that make money for you." "Well that time is over. This isn't your camp anymore. It's all of ours. We've worked here for years, it belongs to those who work it."

Gunthaw's lips rotated as if he was chewing a particularly tough piece of fat and then his face stuck in a snarl as he spoke.

"This is my land. My camp. My elephants. Not yours."