The Fifth Season by Kerry B. Collison Read Free Book Online

about which she had agonized for so many months, before finally agreeing to her son’s request. His image came to mind, and she paused, sipping from the thimble-sized teacup before responding.
    â€˜Pak Malik,’ she commenced, looking at each of the four men in turn,  ‘we have given a great deal of thought to what you have proposed. I am pleased to inform you that the General accepts your kind offer.’ She hesitated, as if reluctant to continue. ‘But to be honest with you, as a mother, I am not entirely at ease that this alliance will be without risk to my son.’
    She could see from their expressions that her candor was unexpected.
    â€˜Then, of course, the issue of my personal religious differences, must still be resolved.’ She had prayed that they might reconsider earlier demands and would not still insist that surrendering her own faith remain a prerequisite to their agreement. But, she knew in her heart, that these hard-line religious leaders would not consummate the relationship unless she converted. Had it not been for her son, she would never have considered such an unreasonable request. Habit directed her fingers gently upwards where they touched her neck in search of reassurance; the platinum cross she had worn since childhood had been removed, whilst dressing in preparation for this meeting, and placed in the safety of her purse.
    â€˜Madame, we ask your understanding in this matter. Your current position has presented us with some resistance amongst our colleagues,’ Haji Abdul Muis advised, his soft voice almost inaudible to her ears. ‘The question must then be, would you accept embracing Islam? ’ The General’s mother turned her head slightly, and looked directly at the aloof and unsmiling figure. She knew that the support of Abdul Muis’s following of thirty million was essential to her son’s success. She would need to show subservience to this man.
    â€˜Yes,’ she said, with rehearsed conviction, ‘if that is the price to be paid, then yes, I would convert to Islam.’ The Ibu observed from the immediate change in their demeanor that they were all pleased, albeit surprised, at her commitment to abandon her Christian beliefs. Previously, she had been adamant, and stubbornly refused to even consider such a notion.
    â€˜Then you may inform your son that when the time arrives, he may count on both the Ulama Akbar and the Mufti Muharam ,’ Malik declared, his statement accompanied by confirmatory nods from the others. The Haji rose slowly and held her hand warmly, signaling that he understood the sacrifice she had agreed to make, a sacrifice which would guarantee their support for her ambitious son.
    Satisfied, General Praboyo’s mother departed their company, saddened by the knowledge that she must fulfill her pledge to abandon her own faith, and embrace the teachings of Islam in order to secure the support of the country’s powerful Moslem parties.
    As her Mercedes drove slowly away, she stoically accepted that her actions that day could easily precipitate the beginning of the end of the current Indonesian leadership.
    She sighed, dabbing at the dry corners of her eyes, wondering why it was so difficult for an old woman to cry. She dismissed the cloud of depression which threatened, closing her weary eyes to again consider the consequences of the new alliance.
    With frail, shaking hands, she opened her well-worn purse and retrieved the delicate cross hidden there. General Praboyo’s mother then lowered her head, and prayed for forgiveness; and for what she knew in her heart, would most surely now transpire.

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    East Java - Situbondo – December, 1997
    Second-corporal Suparman waited impatiently for the signal to move. His hands moved nervously in the darkness and found the haversack containing the deadly cocktails. Reassured, he continued to listen for the others’ voices as he lay hidden at the