To help with the large cast of characters,
I have put together a spoiler-free Dramatis Personae
There was little rest to be had with his hands bound behind his back, but by dawn, Min La’s knee did not hurt as much. He had not slept at all and the cold had made his entire body stiff.
The tent in which they were bound had been enough to protect them from the cold wind, but the chill had crept like a tide across the straw mats on which they sat; it clamped around their fingers, their toes, then their arms and legs. Min La had been shivering for an hour, though he knew that was mostly due to fatigue and fear.
So Ga had dozed some while ago. His head propped against the poll to which he was bound, he had finally been taken by exhaustion. Min La tried to judge the pallor of his pale face, but he didn’t think it was any more white than yesterday. Though with the chill in this tent and their position on the ground, that was not likely to last.
As soon as they had been taken by the three men in yellow, Min La had come to understand that they were from a House that served Ŏklo. He wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than if they had been Koda. He knew nothing of Tolo Dol, but even still he recognized the complexity of their situation.
Tolo Dol, as he had quickly deduced, served Ŏklo. Or, to be more precise, they searched constantly for a way to get out from under their slavery to Ŏklo. This land abutted the part of the Osa Len Mountains where the royal silver mines were guarded by the vigilance of the Koda House. Where exactly the boundary line was, Min La did not know. He wondered if it might be the creek just outside the encampment.
How that would help them, he had no idea. They had successfully managed to conceal their identity from the scouts. However, this had created a new set of problems. Despite Min La’s repeated insistence that they were merely two Houseless brothers, the Tolo Dol scouts had decided immediately that they must be Koda spies. Nothing could dissuade them from this notion. And as they had been found on the other side of the boundary — within Tolo Dol and Ŏklo lands — this could give them a certain degree of authority when it came to deciding what to do with them.
Min La’s greatest concern was that they would be handed over to Ŏklo. This would place them once again at the mercy of Sivo Hin, and within his grasp. Nŏl could only protect them to a point, especially if Sivo Hin got to them first.
His mind worked as quickly as it could. What would his brother-in-law do in this situation? He would talk, of course. Where Să Han would no doubt fight — and overcome — the swords outside this tent, his brother-in-law would certainly find a way to talk himself into freedom. He had done it countless times before. Min La had been able to sneak after him once or twice and watch these intricate negotiations. But he didn’t trust himself to be able to do what his brother-in-law had done so effortlessly.
But he couldn’t fight. Even if he had a sword, there were too many of them. Talking was all he had.
So Ga stirred sharply, waking with a start. He glanced around in panicked confusion, his eyes widening. And then his gaze settled on Min La and he seemed to relax.
“Are you alright?” Min La asked in a whisper.
He nodded. “A little cold. But otherwise, I’m fine.” His bound hands moved and flexed. “I can barely feel my fingers.”
“When they come,” Min La said. “Say nothing. No matter what they say or ask, no matter what I say or do, say nothing.”
So Ga nodded. “Do you have a plan?”
Min La tried to stretch his shoulders. He said, “I might.”
Less than an hour passed before they came. Three of them again; two from last night, but the third was different, older. Min La guessed that he was the commander of this little company. He had come to speak to his captured spies, no doubt.
Like the others, he wore a yellow cloak, but his seemed older and finer and was trimmed in black. His armor was brown leather and his golt a faded gray. Taller and older than the others, he wore his hair long and had also a thin brown beard, graying at his chin. He said nothing when he stepped into the tent. Eyes moving from Min La to So Ga, he smiled. It was almost a gentle smile, but Min La detected something beneath it that quickened his heart.
“Well,” the man said at last, his voice thin and delicate. “That’s quite enough for one night.” And he motioned to his subordinates.
Bowing, they said, “Yes, my lord,” and immediately stepped forward to untie their bonds. Min La stretched his shoulders while So Ga rubbed his wrists. He was not stupid enough to think they were being released, but the way the man smiled at them made it seem like they were. In that moment it occurred to Min La that that was his intent. He was trying to trick them, put them at their ease and then shock them, probably with violence. Not an uncommon tactic when wearing down stubborn prisoners.
His smile did not change when he again motioned to his men. They pulled Min La and So Ga to their feet and then dragged them roughly out of the tent and into the brilliant white daylight. Min La squinted, covering his eyes. He was not prepared when the hand on his arm gave him a violent shove, and so he tripped, sprawling on his hands and knees in the freezing mud. So Ga collided with him. Their eyes met, and Min La gave him a reassuring nod.
Two posts had been pounded into the earth, for horses, Min La guessed. The men dragged them over and tied each of them to one of the posts. The air was cold, a wind whistled through the encampment. Min La glanced over as they bound So Ga’s hands behind him, his boots up to the ankle in icy cold mud. The hands that tied Min La were rough and the bonds too tight. He felt the rope dig into his wrists.
The commander came again and stood before them. “Now that you have had a good night’s sleep, perhaps you are ready to confess your crimes.”
“We are not criminals, sir,” Min La said. “Or villains of any kind.”
“Such pretty talk. What then? Heroes?”
“My brother and I are travelers. We are going north.”
“Where north, pray?”
“Ŭthol Na. Our mother had a brother there, at least that’s what we last heard.”
“Why would a pair of brats travel north in the winter?”
Min La hesitated before he answered. He glanced at So Ga. “My brother is sick,” he said and raised his eyebrows at So Ga, hoping he would understand. “He is very sick.”
So Ga blinked in realization, then he buried his face in his shoulder and coughed dramatically.
“Our mother,” Min La went on, “she told us that her brother was once a gifted physician. She died in the summer and we were driven from our home. I do not think my brother will survive another winter. We have no choice but to try to find our uncle.”
“Such a sad tale,” the man said, still smiling gently. “And delivered so convincingly that if I didn’t know the truth I might have believed you.”
“Please, sir,” Min La said. “Please, let us go. We did not know we were trespassing in your village, we just wanted shelter for the night.”
“An innocent tale to match an innocent face. We both know that you are Koda spies. It is the fairness of your countenances that convinced me. You do not have the filth of the Houseless on you. Look at you. Well-dressed and well-fed. Koda takes care of its little dogs, it seems.”
“I swear to you, sir. We are not Koda.”
“Then you serve them. You will not deceive me.”
One of his men approached and said, “My lord, should we send word to Von Ol?”
The commander’s lip twisted into a snarl and then settled immediately back into his gentle smile. He loathed Von Ol. More than that, Min La thought, he loathed his servitude to Ŏklo.
“You serve Ŏklo?” Min La asked suddenly, his mind working faster and faster. “Von Ol Ŏklo?”
The commander turned to stare at him, his smile gone. “What of it?”
Min La had begun to notice something. This man’s swords did not call him “captain” or “commander”, but rather “my lord”. This together with the quality of his cloth and the way his men looked at him suggested that perhaps this man was not merely their commander, he might also be the Tolo Dol Housemaster.
Min La leaned forward eagerly. “You do serve Ŏklo? I did not know you served such a grand House. And I have heard that Von Ol is such a bold and wise Housemaster.”
The commander took one step towards Min La and said, “Von Ol is not the Ŏklo Housemaster. He is merely master of the eastern estates. And he is about as wise as the pole to which you are tied, or are you as stupid as you are unlucky?”
“If you serve such a grand House, you must also be grand yourself. I wonder I haven’t heard of Tolo Dol. Is your servitude to Ŏklo new?”
The commander struck Min La hard with the back of his hand. He tasted blood on his lip and tried not to smile. His plan was working.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “My brother and I are just ignorant Houseless orphans. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“My House,” the commander said, his lips quivering with anger, “serves no one. And certainly not that bloated fool, Von Ol.”
Min La nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”
The man said nothing for a long time, staring fixedly at Min La who had dropped his gaze and then turned to smile reassuringly at So Ga. The man watched this, then he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.
“Perhaps they are Koda spies,” he said. “And perhaps they aren’t.”
Min La looked at him and shook his head violently. “No, my lord, I swear—”
But he put up a hand, silencing him.
The man’s subordinate came again. “My lord,” he murmured, eyes wide. “We are obliged to deliver anyone we suspect of being a Koda spy to the Ŏklo estate.”
The commander scoffed, his eyes still fixed on Min La. “We are obliged to do nothing.” Turning, he added. “If Von Ol wants Koda spies so badly, he can come and catch them himself.”
“My lord, if we fail to deliver what Von Ol has demanded, the rest of our House—”
But the commander silenced him with a dark look. Turning, he glanced again at Min La, and then looked away.
Many long minutes passed. The commander’s men watched him closely. Min La held his breath. He could not imagine any House in Láokoth happy in the servitude of Von Ol Ŏklo. He couldn’t imagine a Housemaster pleased to serve the nefarious ends of a man like him. The history of Láokoth was filled with stories of proud Houses brought low, who were eager to seize any opportunity to lift themselves up again. The greatest Houses had many rises and falls in their histories. Everyone knew that.
“Von Ol Ŏklo is a fool,” the commander said to his men. “And Tolo Dol has been dirtying their hands on his behalf for too long.”
“You cannot be considering giving them back to Koda? What if they are spies? What if they carry knowledge that would lead to the destruction of Ŏklo?”
“Yes,” the man said thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t that be a pity.”
It was not difficult to guess the thoughts of the commander. He had plainly been outraged by the mere association of his House with Von Ol. He had had his villages emptied, his lands taken, his men used. Men who find themselves crushed under an enemy often need very little convincing to turn and attack.
“If we give such a man a way to fight back without risking himself too much,” Min La’s brother-in-law whispered in his head, “he will usually choose it without hesitation. A man who has had his power taken from him will be comforted to feel himself take a little of it back. But it must be his idea, little shadow. A man brought low by servitude will not suffer the commands of anyone, not even a friend.”
“My lord,” the Tolo Dol men said, growing nervous in their commander’s silence. “My lord, all of Sona Gen knows of our link to Ŏklo.”
The commander’s shoulders tensed. He said, “They know also of the Ŏklo boot on our throat.”
“A defeated man,” Min La’s brother-in-law would say, “is always looking for a way to tear pieces off the one who defeated him. The trick is to make such a thing serve you as well.”
The Tolo Dol commander turned. He looked first at his men, and then out past the edge of his camp to the trickling creek and the treeline beyond, and, beyond that, the violet Osa Len mountaintops glowing amber in the rising sun.
“They are not Koda spies,” he said.
“My lord,” one of his men said in a low voice. “What if they are?”
“They are not Koda spies if I say they aren’t.” Then he shook his head. “They are nothing.”
“And so what should we do with them? Let them go?”
The commander did not answer. He looked at Min La and clasped his hands behind his back.
So Ga looked with wide eyes at Min La who had finally begun to breathe again. Just as the Tolo Dol commander was opening his mouth to give his men orders, a scout ran into the encampment, his yellow cloak flapping behind him.
“My lord,” he said, pale and breathless. “My lord, murder!”
“What?” the commander demanded, his eyes flashing. “Speak plainly.”
“One of ours,” he answered. “One of ours dead in the forest. Run through with a sword.”
The Tolo Dol commander heard this and then turned, eyes wide, to Min La.
“My lord,” Min La said, panic setting in his chest. “I did not—”
“You with your pretty words and your sad tale. And yet you have killed one of my men.”
“I have killed no one, I don’t even have a sword.”
“Take him,” he motioned to his men who came to untie his ropes.
Min La’s mind fell suddenly blank. He felt the ropes loosen at his wrists and his legs gave out, sending him sprawling into the mud again. He looked up at So Ga whose mouth was open to speak. But Min La shook his head.
He couldn’t think, he couldn’t think.
They had killed no one. But someone had. Who? Bandits? Mercenaries? Ŏklo? No, perhaps it was Koda. The men took him by the arms and hauled him to his feet. His hands were pulled behind him and bound again.
“I knew you could not be trusted,” the Tolo Dol commander said, from very far away. “I should have done this last night. I will not give you to Ŏklo, but you will pay for the blood you’ve spilled.”
“I’ve spilled no blood,” Min La answered as they pushed him to his knees. “My brother and—”
But he silenced as soon as he felt the sword’s cold metal touch his neck.
“No, wait!” So Ga cried.
“Quiet!” Min La yelled. He had to think. The sword’s edge caught a strand of his hair and he felt a tug before it succumbed to the blade. The strand fell across his collarbone, tickling his skin like the legs of beetle.
They were going to kill him. And after they killed him, they would also kill So Ga. Min La looked at him; his mouth was clamped shut, but his eyes were wide. He was confused and frightened, but he trusted Min La.
These men needed payment for blood spilled. They did not care about the feud between Koda and Ŏklo. Min La looked at their commander, his eyes shining in the first rays of the sun, his pale face grim with anger. One of his men had been killed, one of the last of his dwindling House. Like any good Housemaster, he only wanted justice.
He would be satisfied with justice.
Min La lifted his head. “I did it!” he cried, barely able to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I did it, I’m sorry. I killed him.”
The man holding the sword stood back in surprise. Even the Tolo Dol commander’s face flickered with shock.
Min La went on, “My brother and I, we have suffered many hardships on our journey. Even Ŏklo swords tried to kill us. Your man, he threatened us, I thought he would kill us. I acted in self defense.” He bowed, then, so deeply that his forehead touched the cold mud. “If you want justice for your slain man, kill me and you will have it.” Lifting his head, he looked at the Tolo Dol commander. “But I’m begging you, spare my brother.”
Something changed in the face of the Tolo Dol Housemaster. He lifted his chin, the light in his eyes dimming. Without a word, he gestured to the man holding the sword.
A hand came and pushed Min La to the ground. His head was turned so that he could not see So Ga. The sword was placed against his neck where the cool edge felt as sharp as the northern wind. A pounding sound filled his ears: his heart. As the sword lifted, he closed his eyes.
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