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| Painting of Filipino woman with flowers in her hair. By Lydia Velasco. |
“Father,” Bayani said softly, from his spot in the cushioned chair beside his father’s bed. The old king was ill, had been for many years now, and the healers had warned the young prince that he didn’t have much time now that winter was coming. While this upset Bayani dearly – he loved his father – he had resigned himself to the fact. “Can you tell me about Mother?”
It had always been a sore subject, his mother, and the scandal that had tainted her memory for his father. Bayani never asked, simply because he knew it would upset the King, but he was curious. And if he didn’t ask now, he would never know.
The King sighed, adjusting himself in the bed with a wince. He was always in pain, nowadays.
“She was beautiful,” He began, a soft smile on his face as he looked up at his heir. “Like you. Incredibly smart. Good. She was a good woman. And so brave. She loved you so much.”
Bayani fell into the enchantment that his father’s voice casted, his eyes never straying from him as he began his story. “I had told your mother, Reyna, and another one concubine, Ibwa, whom I had cared for deeply, that the first woman to bore me a son would be made my wife.”
This didn’t seem fair to Bayani. If he had cared for the both of them, certainly something could have been done. No one should have to bare a son to be deemed better than another. His father could see the disappoint in the prince’s face, and he continued, pressing on.
“When you were born, everyone was overjoyed. I, and your mother alike, could barely contain ourselves with happiness. But Ibwa was jealous. She had given birth to a girl, and while I was happy that I had a child, it wasn’t a boy. It wasn’t an heir.” He sighed, as if the memory was hard for him. Bayani believed it probably was.
“One night, while everyone was asleep, Ibwa murdered her daughter, and buried her.” He paused. Bayani knew this part of the story. It was the only thing that he really knew about what had happened to his mother. “When she was done, she stole you away, hiding herself away until the right moment.
His father left out the part of his mother’s execution; he had gone absolutely insane with grief when he came to find that his son had gone missing. Expecting the worst, he had ordered his mother’s death immediately, drowning her in the kingdom’s river, which ran alongside the castle walls. No one ever dared to argue against the King’s orders, so they were properly implemented at once. Bayani’s mother never even had a chance to explain.
“It was days until Ibwa came back, holding you in her arms as if you belonged there. I was overcome with such joy, I didn’t even think about what had occurred because of your kidnapping. I was simply happy that she brought you back. I married her at once, not thinking about you, or your mother, or the fact that Ibwa was the cause of all that had happened.”
Bayani’s temper flared. Despite the fact that Ibwa was dead, it didn’t stop him from wishing that she had lived long enough that he could have done the job himself. However, that would have been too many years that the wicked woman would have been alive, and her mother would have been dead.
“The kingdom rejoiced at your homecoming, but were confused with the marriage. No one could understand why I had chosen Ibwa after just murdering Reyna. I don’t think I even understood myself.”
The King closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a breath. Bayani knew that talking for too long exerted too much energy, and he reached out, grabbing his father’s hand in his own. He offered whatever comfort he could give, despite the circumstances.
“Reyna came to me in a dream. I remember it as though it actually happened. She was dressed in white, flowers dancing around her and woven into her hair. She was also sopping wet.” Bayani’s father shook his head. “She explained what had happened, and I had no doubt that she was telling the truth. This dream was an explanation, and while I felt guilt stricken for murdering Reyna, I knew what I had to do. As soon as I woke up, I comforted Ibwa.”
Bayani scooted closer, needing to be nearer to hear this part.
“She confessed to everything, with no signs of remorse. I became… enraged again. I didn’t even think, when I threw her out of our bedroom window. She had no idea that it had been coming.” The smirk on Bayani’s face should not have been there, but it was. His father continued. “I ordered that your mother to be reburied, nobly. I grieved for as long as I could.”
Bayani knew that his father had loved his mother, and he knew who his father was. He was an irrational man, driven by passion. The death of his mother had been by his hand, sure, but it was Ibwa that had caused it. The prince grew up wise, brave and strong, a leader to his people, because of his people.
“You are every bit of your mother.” His father said, his voice faint from overuse. "But you are my reward."
It was all that Bayani needed to hear, really.
It had always been a sore subject, his mother, and the scandal that had tainted her memory for his father. Bayani never asked, simply because he knew it would upset the King, but he was curious. And if he didn’t ask now, he would never know.
The King sighed, adjusting himself in the bed with a wince. He was always in pain, nowadays.
“She was beautiful,” He began, a soft smile on his face as he looked up at his heir. “Like you. Incredibly smart. Good. She was a good woman. And so brave. She loved you so much.”
Bayani fell into the enchantment that his father’s voice casted, his eyes never straying from him as he began his story. “I had told your mother, Reyna, and another one concubine, Ibwa, whom I had cared for deeply, that the first woman to bore me a son would be made my wife.”
This didn’t seem fair to Bayani. If he had cared for the both of them, certainly something could have been done. No one should have to bare a son to be deemed better than another. His father could see the disappoint in the prince’s face, and he continued, pressing on.
“When you were born, everyone was overjoyed. I, and your mother alike, could barely contain ourselves with happiness. But Ibwa was jealous. She had given birth to a girl, and while I was happy that I had a child, it wasn’t a boy. It wasn’t an heir.” He sighed, as if the memory was hard for him. Bayani believed it probably was.
“One night, while everyone was asleep, Ibwa murdered her daughter, and buried her.” He paused. Bayani knew this part of the story. It was the only thing that he really knew about what had happened to his mother. “When she was done, she stole you away, hiding herself away until the right moment.
His father left out the part of his mother’s execution; he had gone absolutely insane with grief when he came to find that his son had gone missing. Expecting the worst, he had ordered his mother’s death immediately, drowning her in the kingdom’s river, which ran alongside the castle walls. No one ever dared to argue against the King’s orders, so they were properly implemented at once. Bayani’s mother never even had a chance to explain.
“It was days until Ibwa came back, holding you in her arms as if you belonged there. I was overcome with such joy, I didn’t even think about what had occurred because of your kidnapping. I was simply happy that she brought you back. I married her at once, not thinking about you, or your mother, or the fact that Ibwa was the cause of all that had happened.”
Bayani’s temper flared. Despite the fact that Ibwa was dead, it didn’t stop him from wishing that she had lived long enough that he could have done the job himself. However, that would have been too many years that the wicked woman would have been alive, and her mother would have been dead.
“The kingdom rejoiced at your homecoming, but were confused with the marriage. No one could understand why I had chosen Ibwa after just murdering Reyna. I don’t think I even understood myself.”
The King closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a breath. Bayani knew that talking for too long exerted too much energy, and he reached out, grabbing his father’s hand in his own. He offered whatever comfort he could give, despite the circumstances.
“Reyna came to me in a dream. I remember it as though it actually happened. She was dressed in white, flowers dancing around her and woven into her hair. She was also sopping wet.” Bayani’s father shook his head. “She explained what had happened, and I had no doubt that she was telling the truth. This dream was an explanation, and while I felt guilt stricken for murdering Reyna, I knew what I had to do. As soon as I woke up, I comforted Ibwa.”
Bayani scooted closer, needing to be nearer to hear this part.
“She confessed to everything, with no signs of remorse. I became… enraged again. I didn’t even think, when I threw her out of our bedroom window. She had no idea that it had been coming.” The smirk on Bayani’s face should not have been there, but it was. His father continued. “I ordered that your mother to be reburied, nobly. I grieved for as long as I could.”
Bayani knew that his father had loved his mother, and he knew who his father was. He was an irrational man, driven by passion. The death of his mother had been by his hand, sure, but it was Ibwa that had caused it. The prince grew up wise, brave and strong, a leader to his people, because of his people.
“You are every bit of your mother.” His father said, his voice faint from overuse. "But you are my reward."
It was all that Bayani needed to hear, really.
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Author's Note: The original story, The Wicked Woman's Reward, was told from a third person point of view. It is about a king who tells his two favorite concubines that the first to give him a son would be the one he married. The Wicked Woman bears a daughter, and the Good Woman bears a son. The Wicked Woman kills her daughter, swaps the Good Woman's son with a cat, and takes the son away. When the King finds the cat, he orders the Good Woman to be executed by drowning in the river. The Wicked Woman brings his son back and they marry. However, the Good Woman's corpse doesn't decay and is found in the river with flowers all around her. Her ghosts tell the King what the Wicked Woman did, he throws her out a window, and he mourns for the loss of the Good Woman. Her son grows up to be brave and strong and takes over the throne. I changed the story by making it more dialogue than anything else. It comes from the King, while he explains it to his son. It gives the boy more of a character in the story. I gave the women names, because I believe they deserve them. Reyna's name means "Queen," while Ibwa is the name of a Filipino demon. I feel that giving the narrator's voice to the son gives the readers a connection to him and to Reyna. You are feeling what he feels, as he begins to understand what happens to his mother.
Bibliography: Filipino Popular Tales by Dean S. Fansler (1921). Link to online reading.
