Read Online The Thai Amulet by Lyn Hamilton - Free Book Online Page B

curries, vegetables of all sorts, mounds of steaming, fragrant rice, and much more. Each platter was decorated with exquisitely carved fruits and vegetables. I wondered if Wongvipa had carved the melons into roses herself, and if she’d consider showing me how to do it. It would certainly add a certain elan to the meals I served at home.
    “Jennifer was telling me you have been in Chiang Mai the last few days,” I said to Khun Thaksin in an attempt to make small talk. “I’ve heard it is a most interesting city, with a great deal of history.”
    “It is, but I suppose when one is there on business, one doesn’t appreciate the surroundings,” he said. “Even at my age there is a requirement to deal with business problems, putting out fires, I believe would be your expression. Unfortunately, there have been a number of fires in our Chiang Mai office of late. A problem with a supplier. Khun Wichai has been helping me resolve the problem. I notice, though, you have been looking at the prang of Wat Chai Watthan-aram,” he said, changing the subject and gesturing to the window. “It looks rather splendid against the night sky doesn’t it?”
    “Is that what it is?” I said. “I wondered.”
    “It is a world heritage site now,” Thaksin said. “But once Ayutthaya was a powerful kingdom that ruled over much of what is now Thailand, and also part of Cambodia. It was founded in the thirteenth century and ruled until it was defeated and destroyed, burned to the ground, by the Burmese in 1767. We have still not forgotten, nor forgiven, them for that. I suppose coming from such a young country you find that extraordinary, holding a grudge for centuries. I think we Thais see the reign of Ayutthaya as a golden age, really. You must go and see it. It is in ruins but still evocative, I think, of that time. You can sense the great power that it once held.”
    “Perhaps,” Chat said, turning from his conversation with Busakorn, “we ignore the fact that it was a time of almost constant warfare, terrible disease, slavery, autocratic rulers who believed they were god, who marched the common people back and forth across the country as the spoils of war, to say nothing of the fact that during that golden age, as you call it, women’s status, once considered equal in the Sukhothai period, deteriorated to the point they were barely considered human.”
    “Please,” Wongvipa said. “No politics during dinner.”
    “My idealistic son,” Thaksin said. “And so serious. Sometimes I worry about him, that he will be hurt by life’s disappointments.”
    “Chat is quite right,” Sompom said. “In many respects it was not the best of times. However, to offset that, we should remember it was also a golden age for the arts. Music, dance, the decorative arts, all flourished, supported by the royal court. Some of the most beautiful temples and palaces in all the world were constructed during that time.”
    “My team won our cricket match,” Dusit said.
    “Dusit is an excellent sportsman,” Wongvipa said, smiling indulgently at her younger son. Fatty started throwing little balls of sticky rice at her brother.
    “My other idealistic son,” Thaksin said.
    “Dusit?” I said. That young man didn’t strike me as idealistic at all.
Spoiled
was the word that immediately sprang to mind.
    “Sompom,” Thaksin said. “My eldest. He is a professor at Chulalongkorn University. I wanted him to take over the business, but he has chosen the academic life and the arts over more material goals. He is something of an expert, apparently, in a form of dance we call Khon. It probably developed in the royal court of Ayutthaya, but was lost when the Burmese burned the city. The National Theater puts on Khon performances from time to time. You should take one in if you get the chance. Rather esoteric, I’m afraid, but interesting nonetheless.”
    I looked at Sompom, who had touches of gray at his temples and a daughter, Nu, who was maybe