The pirate who had been alive and formidable just moments ago was now a lifeless corpse sprawled on the floorboards. He had meant to slice me in half with all his strength, and that very power had driven his sword deep into the wood of the doorframe. It now hung there firmly above him despite its weight.
"You have just killed a panglima…"
I quickly shifted my gaze upward from the corpse to the man standing across the doorway. He was older than I was, which made his injuries all the more pitiful. His lips were busted, his cheeks swollen, his eyes blackened, and his body bore many more wounds that made him walk with a limp and a slight hunch.
His white camesita was torn and stained with blood.
"Panglima… what is that exactly?" I asked.
"The captain of these pirates… I heard his men refer to him as that," the man said, examining the hanging sword between us.
