hilt.
'Raja naga,' Carl said.
'Royal dragon. It was made for a Javanese sultan around 1700. Both of
those sheathes there belong to it--that one is the formal lad rang the
one shaped like a ship, the other one, with the rounded ends, that's
the gay aman for informal wear.'
The sheathes were made of carved wood, with embossed metal sleeves over
the long shaft in which the dagger rode.
'What's the pa morT Toni asked.
He looked away from the exquisite blade to her.
'You know about these things?'
'Not really,' she said.
'My guru presented me with one a few months back. I know just enough
to ask questions.'
'Ah. Well, the pam or on this one is bulu ayam, cock feather. I don't
know enough about them to be sure about the dapur.'
Toni nodded. Pamor was an Indonesian word that described the pattern
found in the steel. Genuine krises-sometimes spelled k-e-r-i-s--were
generally made of hammered, welded steel mixed with nickel. When the
final grinding and staining was done to finish the weapon, the iron in
it would turn black, but the nickel would tend to stay shiny, thus
creating designs in the metal. According to her guru, the staining
process usually involved soaking the metal in a mixture of lime juice
and arsenic,
which probably accounted for the kris's reputation as a poisoned
blade.
Dapur was the overall shape, the proportions and esthetics of the blade
combined with the handle and guard.
Krises could be straight or curved, the latter ranging from a few
undulations to more than thirty, but always, she had been told, an odd
number of waves.
For hundreds of years, especially on the larger islands, no Indonesian
boy could officially become a man until an elder, usually his father or
uncle, presented him with a kris. More than a few were given to young
women, too.
They were not only weapons, but imbued with magic as part of their
construction. The size, shape, pattern, time it was made, and desires
of the potential owner were all taken into account by the smith, called
an empu, who forged the weapon. Some krises were reputed to draw fire
away from a house, protect the owner against black magic, or to rattle
in the sheath to warn of approaching danger.
Toni's heirloom, a gift from her silat teacher, was in a safety-deposit
box back in New York City. Her guru had given it to her so that its
magic might help her get Alex.
It had apparently worked.
Too bad it hadn't worked to keep him.
Carl led her around, pointing out the various configurations of the
daggers. They were beautiful, if you could take the time to look at
them properly.
