Dinner with a Dictator | Pagan Min

The Double

That particular evening, as they ate Pagan was trying to explain to Ali how Kyrat worked – how he'd divided the Kingdom into smaller territories that were watched over by his generals. The man she had met on her first day in Kyrat, Paul 'de Pleur' Harmon controlled the Lowlands region, Noore Najjar was in charge of 'Shanath Arena' and the making of poppy into heroine, and last but not least, Yuma Lau was Pagan's second in command controlled the Royal army and a prison called Durgesh (that allegedly no one escaped from).

Part of Ali was a little worried at how willing Pagan was to divulge all this information to her; clearly, he didn't have plans for her to leave any time soon.

"Wait, Noore Najjar?" Ali asked as she drank her wine, "As in, Dr Noore Najjar?"

"You know her?" Pagan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I read her paper on human rights violations in some country she was sent to aid," Ali said; then she stopped as she realised, "That was here?!"

"Well, it wasn't a very flattering paper," Pagan huffed, "But it was in the early days, there was still a lot of in-fighting...so I persuaded Noore to stay and help make things better."

There was no denying that the way he said persuaded led her to believe he'd done something sinister. Ali kept that thought to herself, she didn't know him well enough to start accusing him of things, even as a joke.

"Anyway, those three are my generals, they oversee the day to day running of Kyrat to ease the burden on myself."

Ali nodded in understanding as she chewed on her food, "Ok, so the Golden Path: what's their deal?"

Predictably, Pagan pulled a face, "Do we have to talk about them?"

"No," Ali said, "I was just curious."

Pagan stared at her innocent face and relented with a sigh, "Fine," Ali smiled at him, "The bloody Golden Path – a thorn in my side since the 1980's run, at one time, by your father," he gave Ali a look and she raised her glass, "Currently their leaders are Sabal – a traditionalist monkey who wants to marry a 14 year old girl," Ali choked on her drink, "And Amita, a particularly sour-faced monkey who – to be fair to her – wants to push Kyrat into the modern day, through use of excessive force and a callous disregard for her soldiers lives."

"I'm sorry, he wants to marry a 14-year-old?" Ali asked, mopping up her wine spittle.

"Mmm, Bhadra, the current Tarun Matara," at Ali's questioning gaze her continued, "You don't know of the Tarun Matara?" She shook her head, "Not surprising I suppose...your mother was the last one. She was 13 when she was made to marry your father."

"What?" Ali was genuinely shocked, "What is the Tarun Matara? Obviously, it's some sort of title...that allows children to be married off to older men?"

"You're not miles away, the people of Kyrat believe that the Tarun Matara is the human embodiment of the Goddess Kyra," Pagan explained, pouring Ali another glass, "The girls who are bestowed this title are seen as a sort of...religious icon, a spiritual leader, if you will."

"Where does marrying them off at such a young age come in?"

"Greedy older men who want power," Pagan said darkly, "They're married off to young girls so they can control them, and as such the power that comes with them."

"How old was my father – when he married her?" Pagan appeared to dislike her father very much, but she wanted to know.

"About 20...they were engaged to be married before she was named the Tarun Matara, but the whole practise is," Pagan made a vague gesture with his hand, "Outdated – one of the few points Amita and I actually agree on."