To help with the large cast of characters,
I have put together a spoiler-free Dramatis Personae
So Ga had been waiting next to the door for what felt like hours, though judging by the gradual lightening of the sky it had been barely more than thirty minutes.
Just as he was about to feed the stove a bit of wood and heat some water, the locked door began to shake with a violent pounding.
Heart hammering in his chest, he stood frozen in the middle of the room, unsure what to do. The knife was there upon the table, but he had no real confidence in his own strength.
But then a voice came from the corridor outside. “It’s me.”
Min La. With a wave of relief, he hurried to unlock the door. Just as he was opening his mouth to ask what had happened to Íso Lin, Min La burst inside and slammed the door behind him.
His face was ashen, eyes wide and bright with terror. He took a moment to catch his breath, then he said. “We are leaving immediately.”
“What? Why? What happened?”
Min La ran across the room to the table where his knife sat next to his bag. He opened it, checking its contents. “Our friends are here.”
So Ga froze. “Them? How?”
“We need to move quickly.”
“I don’t understand,” So Ga breathed.
Min La found So Ga’s boots near his bed and brought them over, pushing them into So Ga’s hands. He said, “At least two were outside speaking to that bastard Sivo Hin. I think they have some association with him.”
“I suppose that shouldn’t surprise us, given—”
“Get your things. We must go right now. We should never have come here.”
The sun shone brightly in the morning sky when they left the stone building and found their way to the blue path, the network of walkways covered in blue rooftops. As before, they encountered few along the way, except two or three maids who eyed them curiously, and two swords embroiled in a debate about the fastest route across the mountain road.
Despite the warm, yolk-colored sunlight, the air was cold as iron and twice as sharp. So Ga had a second cloak over the blue velvet one Rin Holok had given him and he still felt the teeth of winter biting into his thin chest.
Min La wore only a thin, black wool coat over his new brown wool golt. It was unadorned and too big for him. His long hair was loose and moved in the wind, but he seemed not to feel it. So Ga was briefly distracted by a strange feeling of envy. He envied Min La his strength and his hardiness. He could not help but compare him to himself. How could someone as weak as he was ever be king?
So Ga knew he was only thinking about this because of the examination of the lady Ona Lín. She had seen what all physicians saw when they looked at him: a weak boy doomed to a brief life of suffering and hardship. If his father could see him, he would be sorely disappointed. So Ga wondered if Min La’s father had ever been disappointed in him.
Min La paused again at a fork in the walkways. Finding the one with the blue roof he took So Ga by the elbow and pulled him along it. Min La was, So Ga observed, more anxious than he was. As they moved along the blue pathway making their way to the wall of the estate, So Ga found himself feeling a kind of relief. He was, in truth, relieved to be returned to their original concerns. The mercenaries who hunted them were, in a sense, a familiar enemy. Whereas every step of their journey thus far had been full of unfamiliar enemies, some of whom even masqueraded as friends. There was a strange certainty in returning to familiar path, even if it was a dangerous one.
Although, of course, part of him was also sad to leave behind Nŏl and Hino Son. Their companionship these last days had been a welcome surprise.
The blue path ended in a small gazebo that was surrounded by a thin moat. Flowerless rose vines wound around the white frame and dangled from the round, blue roof. So Ga guessed that this gazebo was maintained in memory of someone beloved who had died. When he realized how close they were to Ona Lín’s residence, he thought it was probably meant to honor her mother.
They crossed the moat on the other side of the gazebo using a little bridge that led to a narrow stone path. This path led to the back wall of Ona Lín’s residence. And the back wall of her residence was a mere stone’s throw from the wall of the estate, which towered high enough to cast a perpetual shadow. So Ga saw a small gate there that was unguarded. Without stopping, Min La immediately led him towards it.
Upon reaching it, Min La turned the handle but found it to be locked. A large keyhole squinted at them from beneath the handle. Min La worked for a moment trying to force it, then he leaned against the thick wood and heaved a sigh.
“What do we do?” So Ga asked.
“We can go back to the stables. But I—”
He was interrupted by a soft whistle. Turning, they both scanned the small empty space.
The whistle repeated and they, at last, found the source.
Lo Nan, the head of Ona Lín’s maids, was leaning out of the back gate of her lady’s residence. Wrapped in a thick woolen veil, she waited until they saw her and then motioned them over.
With a glance at each other, Min La and So Ga hurried over. Lo Nan opened the gate as they arrived and gestured them inside. Then she closed the gate again and took the veil off her head.
With a bow she said, “My lady had been informed of the situation.”
“What?” Min La asked. “How?”
Lo Nan offered him a small smile and So Ga immediately understood. Looking at Min La, he saw that he did, too.
Rin Holok.
“My lady has asked me to give you this.” And she held out a small cotton bag. “It’s just a little food and medicine, only what we were able to collect in the residence without drawing too much attention.”
Min La took the bag with both hands. “The lady Ona Lín should not have troubled herself.”
Lo Nan put her hands together at her waist and answered, “I think we both know why she feels she must.”
Min La said nothing. Together, he and So Ga bowed.
“One more thing,” Lo Nan said, and she slipped her hand into the pocket of her golt. Drawing forth a large iron key, she smiled at them and put her veil back on her head. “Come.”
They followed her back to the gate in the estate wall and waited while she unlocked it. Glancing back So Ga saw, in one of the high windows of Ona Lín’s residence, the lady herself standing and watching them. As So Ga saw her, she lifted a hand to her chest and bowed. So Ga did the same. Then Min La tugged his elbow and the gate swung open.
Lo Nan bowed and said, “Go with the good will of my lady and of all Ŏklo. May the Ădol protect you.”
They bowed and thanked her, and then they stepped through the gate. Without another word, she pulled it closed behind them.
The silence of the early morning pressed heavily upon them. Having escaped the grounds of the estate, So Ga knew they still were not safe. They would never be entirely safe, but it would certainly be easier to hide in the wild than within the restricted confines of an unfamiliar estate.
Without speaking, they walked through the crisp morning. The grounds on the side of the estate abutted a dense forest. Turning aside from the path that they saw cutting through the fields to the east, Min La instead took them into the forest.
They had to move slowly, picking their way over roots and brush. But it was not difficult, as the forest was already almost entirely bare. Heavy mounds of wet, brown leaves crunched under their boots. One thing had improved, however. The tree trunks all around them had cut the wind, and all the walking they were doing was warming So Ga’s blood; he had finally stopped shivering.
After they had been walking nearly an hour, Min La paused, leaning against a tree.
“Are you alright?” he asked So Ga, reaching for his left knee and massaging it absently.
So Ga nodded. He said, “Where will we go?”
“There are little villages all along the mountain road.”
“Is that the mountain road over there?” So Ga pointed in the direction of the path he had seen when they had left the estate.
Min La shook his head. “That path leads to the mountain road. As long as we keep an eye on it, we can follow it from afar. Eventually it will bring us to the mountain road. And we will find a village.”
“And then?”
Min La closed his eyes briefly, then he opened them again and gathered his hair into a low knot. “Then we buy horses or a carriage. And we rest for the night.” Digging through Lo Nan’s bag, he found a little log of sausage. It had been wrapped tightly in oil paper but the smell was making So Ga’s mouth water. Min La broke off a large piece and held it out to him. “You’ll need your strength,” he said. “We have a long walk ahead of us today.”
While they ate — they had also found several parcels of dried fruit, a few freshly-baked rolls, a wedge of strong, yellow cheese, and two thick slices of honey cake — Min La took their gold out of the inner pocket of his golt and, wrapping the heavy purse in a blanket, he nestled it in the bag.
“As long as we have this,” he said, sipping some water, “we will be fine.”
At last they started again. Min La carried two bags — including the one with the gold, which also held his knife — while So Ga had the third, in which they had placed his medicine. It was significantly lighter. Now that his hair was tied, Min La’s black woolen coat made him look a little like one of the Palace swords. An observation So Ga decided to keep to himself.
Presently, they started to turn and move back towards the road.
“We should be approaching the mountain road,” Min La explained. “We need to be even more careful.”
So Ga nodded.
It was in the silence that followed that So Ga heard the sound. Glancing at Min La, he could see that he had heard it, too. A wet, crunching sound, the same their boots made as they walked through the rain-soaked leaves.
Min La’s path began to move away from the road again and deeper into the forest. But So Ga’s heart fell when he realized that the sounds were getting louder. Moreover, he could tell by the way they layered that it was coming from more than one place. He didn’t have the experience Min La had, but if he had to guess, he would say they were being surrounded.
Min La’s hand was in his bag. With his other he motioned So Ga closer.
At the moment Min La pulled the knife out of his bag, they appeared.
In the flurry of motion and the heart-pounding shock that followed, So Ga couldn’t keep track of how many had appeared, but he guessed at least seven. They all descended upon them at once. Min La kept So Ga behind him and moved him with one hand tightly gripping his arm. With the other, he held out the knife. But their opponents all had swords.
Panting and wide-eyed, So Ga saw at last that they were not mercenaries.
“Bandits?” he murmured in surprise.
In the stillness that followed this realization, fear at last crept up his back, a cold sweat that dampened the thick new golt between his shoulder blades.
He counted five. Two were as young as them, one seemed quite a bit younger, one was middle-aged and a little fat. The fifth was a giant of a man with a head shaped like a block and dim, lazy eyes.
Presently, the one to their left — the youngest man, with large bulging eyes and a thick upper lip — rushed at them with a roar that surprised them. For only a moment, Min La was stunned.
Then he pushed So Ga away as the young thief collided with him. They both struggled in a flurry of wet leaves and limbs. Min La had his knife and the young bandit had his short sword.
So Ga had landed in a pile of leaves and moss at the base of a narrow birch tree. Next to his hand was a small cluster of mushrooms, larger ones with tall, spiked caps. Plucking them from the moss, he tossed them at the bandit. They bounced off the back of his neck, startling him.
It was a moment of distraction just long enough for Min La to use. He knocked away the short sword which clattered across the forest floor. A more furious struggle began then as Min La attempted to overpower the tall, skinny man. So Ga shrank back against the birch tree while Min La fought against their new enemy. Glancing at the others, he wondered why they did not intervene. In time he realized they were waiting for someone; So Ga could see him approaching through the trees.
Min La and the small bandit seemed evenly matched. Both small and a little weak, both surprised by the other’s strength. Finally, Min La managed to overpower him and held his knife tightly against the young man’s throat. So Ga saw a thread of blood trickle from the knife edge. Min La pulled the bandit to his feet and they stood, Min La using him as a shield, his knife at his throat while he used his other hand to pinion the man’s arms behind his back. The bandit winced in pain and let out a small cry, which was silenced when Min La held the knife tighter.
“Behind me,” Min La said to So Ga, who quickly stood and ran over until he was entirely obstructed by Min La’s shoulders.
The one the others had been waiting for had finally arrived. They all moved aside to make space for him in the tiny chamber of forest in which they found themselves. As the man approached, So Ga was surprised that it was not Sivo Hin.
He was a short man, but stout. His cloth was plain but colorful, with a vibrant yellow golt and a wide sash of bright blue. The long coat he wore was striped green and ivory and embroidered on the sleeves in a pattern of vines and large orange flowers. He did not wear a hat and his gray and black hair was cut short around his ears.
“I told you bastards,” he said to the other bandits, his voice as harsh as gravel, “to wait for me.”
The one who stood nearest — the fat man of about forty with a pale green golt patched all over with bits of red velvet — hung his head and murmured, “They looked like they were ready to fight, Molo.”
Molo struck the man with the back of his hand, and said through clenched teeth, “Very observant of you.”
While his comrade recovered himself, Molo turned to study Min La. With his chin dipped into his chest and his wide eyes shining, he resembled a wolf or some other hungry hunter.
At last, he said, “We have heard what you’ve done. He told us, he said that my son was killed by someone in this estate who would try to escape. And here you are.”
“Your son?” Min La asked.
“We heard you brought him here yourself and then you tortured him to death. Will you even deny his father his body?”
“You fool,” Min La replied with a scoff, “Your son was killed by Sivo Hin himself, to silence him.”
The man’s face flickered, but then he smiled, baring an uneven arrangement of yellowed teeth. He said, “I have worked alongside Sivo Hin Ŏklo for almost five years. He is not brave enough to kill my son himself. And anyway, why would he?”
“The Ŏklo Housemaster has sent someone to Sona Gen to investigate him.” Min La gave a strained laugh. “He’s cleaning house. You might want to leave Sona Gen. I would assume you are on his list.”
Molo threw his head back and filled the forest with a great bellowing laugh. So Ga started and even Min La flinched.
“If Sivo Hin Ŏklo plans to kill every bandit he’s ever employed, he will need to use that army of his from up on the mountain.” He shook his head. “No, Sivo Hin did not kill my son. You did. And so today I will kill you both here in the forest and that will almost make us even. Or I could take you back and kill you slowly, as you did my son.”
One of them drew near and whispered to the old man, “I think—”
But Molo silenced him with a blow. He fell to his knees holding the side of his face. When Molo glanced down at him, he had a look about him, as if he didn’t know what he’d just done, or couldn’t remember doing it.
“What?” he asked the sprawled man in a snarl.
The man pointed at Min La and So Ga and said, “I think this is them, Molo, the ones he spoke of. Do you remember? He said there were two brothers in the carriage who carried gold. But there were no brothers in the carriage when we took it.”
Molo turned back, his shining eyes studying Min La’s bags while a small smile broke his aged face. “Of course.” He took a step closer. “Is that why you killed him, then? Revenge? Were those friends of yours? Or family?” He offered his teeth again in a kind of perverse smile.
Min La answered, “I wish I had been the one to kill your wretched son. The woman you killed that day was carrying a child.”
Molo’s eyes grew wide. He laughed, tears in his eyes. “I don’t care about the babies of Houses!” he cried. “I only care about mine!”
Min La had begun to back up slowly, So Ga moving in step with him. Their attention was fixed on Molo, who seemed to be growing more and more deranged with each passing minute. So Ga could see, too, that Min La was beginning to tire; the hand that held the young bandit’s arms behind his back was trembling. So Ga couldn’t see any way they would escape this situation.
“Do you care about this one?” Min La asked, pulling the young thief’s arms tighter, causing him to cry out again.
But before Molo could answer, another voice — much closer — said, “Do you care about this one?”
At that moment, So Ga felt a blade press against his ribs. He let out a gasp and tried to back away. A man — the giant with large, empty eyes — had crept up behind them and now held his sword to So Ga’s chest.
Min La reacted immediately. He let go of the young bandit he was holding, pushing him towards Molo, with whom he collided sending both rolling through the trees. The others yelled, chasing after the rolling bundle of limbs while Min La lunged at the giant man, surprising him. So Ga dodged out of the way as both landed against a tree.
The others were struggling to rescue their aged leader, while Min La attempted to disarm the tall bandit. But his strength was beginning to fail and he had already lost his knife. The tall man knocked him to the ground with a hard blow to the head and then squatted over him, sword ready to plunge.
So Ga frantically looked around the forest for a weapon, but the only one he could see — the young bandit’s sword — was too far away. There was a branch, though. So Ga ran for it but found it to be connected to a small felled tree that had been covered by wet leaves. With all his might he pulled on it.
Min La — dazed and with blood dripping down the right side of his face — attempted to kick the tall man away, but only succeeded in knocking his sword aside. The man, overcome by an animal rage, wrapped both hands around Min La’s neck and squeezed. Min La’s eyes widened, he opened his mouth in a soundless scream and began hitting the giant’s arms with his fists. But he was too strong. Min La’s blows became weaker and weaker.
So Ga fell back suddenly as the branch tore off the tree. Gathering it up, he ran to Min La and brought the branch down as hard as he could on the back of the giant’s head.
He let go of Min La’s neck immediately. The blow had barely moved him, but he still cried out. So Ga suspected he was more angered than hurt and quickly tried to back away.
Min La had begun to cough as soon as the man let go of him. He rolled onto his side, coughing and gasping. Staggering and trembling, he looked up as the man set his sights on So Ga.
Bringing himself to his knees, Min La found the man’s sword. He used it to stand and then, with shaking legs, he closed the distance between himself and the towering bandit. With a cry, he plunged the sword through his back. So Ga looked down and saw the blade poking through the man’s broad abdomen, dripping with blood.
Min La pulled the sword out, nearly falling over as he did so. When the man turned to face him, Min La swung hard and high and slit his throat. The giant fell with such an echoing crash that So Ga felt the ground vibrate.
Min La motioned to So Ga who again went to stand behind him.
The others had managed to help their leader — Molo — disentangle himself from the other young bandit and stand. He stood now, leaning on one of his comrades, glaring at Min La who, with shaking arms, was holding the sword. The bandits seemed hesitant to approach them, despite the fact that they outnumbered them. Min La had, after all, just killed the largest of their number.
“You understand,” Molo said, breathing heavily, “that I cannot let you live. Now you have killed two of my sons. For the sake of my reputation, you see, I cannot let you live.”
Min La held the sword with one hand and used the other to take the bag off his shoulder. So Ga watched in amazement as he tossed it at the bandits.
He said, “Then perhaps I can pay for them. Take that, and let us leave.”
Molo stood for a moment considering Min La in total silence. At last he motioned to the bag and waited while one of his men brought it to him.
Taking it, he turned the little cloth sack upside down, letting its contents spill out in a heap. The rest of the food Ona Lín had given them was wrapped in oil paper and tied with string. There was the leather sheath for Min La’s knife.
And there, wrapped in a blanket, was Min La’s purse of gold.
The sun caught the bright new gold and flashed merrily as the thieves all gathered around, admiring their discovery.
“That isn’t all,” the young bandit — who had previously been imprisoned by Min La’s blade — said through gritted teeth. He held a bit of stained rag against the wound on his throat. The cloth was blotched with red. So Ga found himself feeling glad for the young thief’s pain. He was angry at the humiliation they were enduring at the hands of these thieves, angry at the terror they had used to subdue their prey. Angry, more than anything, that they had likely inflicted the same inhuman treatment on the Sengís before they had been murdered in the cold forest. It made him angry enough that he forgot to feel afraid. That was immediately corrected when he realized that the young thief was gesturing at him.
Molo followed the young man’s gaze. “Oh?” he asked, handing the gold to one of his comrades.
“That one has some kind of gold necklace. Very heavy.”
“My son told you this?” Molo asked, eyes all alight.
The man nodded.
Molo gestured. “Well, go get it for me then, you fool.”
The young thief took a long, silver dagger from one of his companions and approached them. Min La lifted the blade and moved back, So Ga behind him. But at that moment, the strength in his arms gave out and he fell to his knees, the sword clutched loosely in his hands.
“Please,” he said, struggling to stand up again. “Just take the gold and let us go.” He tried again to stand, but collapsed on all fours coughing and holding his throat. So Ga tried to pull him up by the arm, but it was no use.
One of the men hurried over and took Min La’s sword, while two others took hold of him and held him fast, his arms behind his back. Min La struggled, but he had no strength left. So Ga backed away quickly.
“Run,” Min La breathed, looking at So Ga.
But the moment he said it, So Ga saw again the face of Mŭ Sen, dying in the middle of the road outside Rensoth, yelling at him to run. He heard the thunderbolt of his voice ricocheting around the forest and through him, like a precisely shot arrow. He saw again the bodies of his guards, bloody and dead in the moonlight. He stopped moving.
He would not run, not this time.
Min La continued to strain against the arms that held him. The young bandit with the dagger held it out, the tip of it pointed like a shining needle at So Ga’s neck.
So Ga clutched the seal through his clothes and looked at Min La, unsure what to do. The seal was not like the bag of gold, he couldn’t give it up to save their lives, as much as he wished he could.
His eyes darted around the forest, certain there must be something he could use as a weapon. As the bandit approached, he took a step to the side, and his feet struck something hard and metallic. Looking down, he saw Min La’s knife.
With a sudden motion, he quickly picked it up and held it out with both hands, trembling. He would not run away this time. He would not watch as another life was sacrificed in exchange for his. Not again, not Min La.
The man with the dagger did not stop his approach. Though now he had a little smile on his thin face.
“Stop,” Min La said, trying to wrench away from the men who held him. The movement imbalanced him and he fell onto his side slowly, like a tipped water jug lolling over. The bandits who were holding him fell with him, landing on top of him in an absurd knot of limbs.
“Don’t touch him,” Min La called, with an angry edge to his voice, but no one heard him. They held him by the shoulders and waist, their struggle almost comical were it not for the cold terror that froze So Ga to the place where he stood.
The tip of the dagger touched the edge of So Ga’s knife, as gentle as a breeze. Then, with a motion at once blindingly fast and deftly precise, the thief used his dagger to slice the back of So Ga’s hand. With a surprised cry, he dropped his knife. Before the sound had left his throat, the tip of the thin silver blade was against his neck, and had hooked, with a musical sound, on the thick gold chain.
With a sudden rush of panic, he gripped the seal through his golt and leapt back, away from leering eyes and outstretched hands of the thief with his dagger. The sudden movement alarmed them all. The dagger had broken the skin on his neck, he could feel the sting when he moved his head, but he did not care.
Molo stepped forward. “This is a simple matter, my boy. The necklace for your lives. Give it to us and we’ll let both of you go.”
But he knew they would never let them live, not even if he gave them the seal — and especially if they saw what it revealed.
So Ga shook his head and said firmly, “No.”
The little thief with the long silver dagger turned his wide, bugging eyes to Molo, as if, So Ga realized in horror, asking permission. Molo considered So Ga for a moment, then he nodded once. And the bandit, setting his jaw, approached So Ga, but much faster this time and with obvious intent.
At that moment Min La managed to slip free of the hands that held him. In the end, it was his oversized coat that had allowed him the opportunity. In the struggle Min La had managed to wriggle out of it like a snake shedding its skin. He ran across the little clearing, the rest of the bandits staring at him, too stunned to react at first. Reaching the young thief, he wrapped his arms around him from behind and threw him to the side, away from So Ga.
Min La’s knife was there on the ground. Finding it near his feet, Min La reached for it and turned to swing it just as the thief lunged with the dagger. Steel met silver and the dagger sparked as a great ringing echoed against the trees. The thief yelled in surprise. But Min La was too tired to use the advantage he has gained for himself. Before he could attack, the skinny man had kicked his feet out from under him. Sprawled on his back, and a little dazed from the sudden hard landing, Min La coughed and reached for his dropped knife. But the bandit stood over him, dagger in hand, and brought his foot down on Min La’s arm, pinning him in place.
It seemed to So Ga that Min La was seconds from death. He had managed to save So Ga, but only briefly. In a few seconds both would be dead and their corpses would be left on the side of the road. So Ga held the seal tightly, the cloth wrinkling in his fist. What if they would let them go if he handed it over to them? What if his stubbornness was killing Min La?
As the skinny bandit lifted the dagger, a sharp, piercing whistle broke through the still air. The autumn sky seemed to sever at the sound of it, as if the sky itself had been sliced clean through.
This whistle was followed by another, much quieter. By several whistles, in fact. A rapid volley of arrows came flying from beyond the tree line. They cut through the shredded air and slammed home in the young bandit’s narrow chest. One, two, three. A fourth sailed by, just missing its mark. The bandit stopped where he stood, arms out, dagger raised, foot upon Min La’s sword arm. They all watched as he slowly became aware of the arrows in his body. And then he crumpled to his knees.
Min La pulled his arm away and stood. He kicked the dagger out of the thief’s limp hand. The young man was not dead. And so Min La found his knife and cut his skinny throat. He fell with a thud, bleeding and staring in blank terror.
Molo let out a piercing animal cry. But just as he was about to lunge at Min La, more arrows came. The confused bandits faced the forest with their swords out, as if, So Ga thought absurdly, they intended to fight the trees themselves. Three more fell, one at time, until only Molo remained. So Ga wondered how many there were in the forest. It must have been a small army. His wonder became astonishment when two men emerged from the trees, bows in hand.
Nŏl and Hino Son. Seeing them approach, So Ga was overcome with a wave of relief so powerful that his legs gave out and he sat suddenly on a pile of wet leaves.
Min La had easily overpowered the old thief, Molo, now that his comrades were all dead. He had him on the ground, his knife at his throat.
Nŏl said, entering the little clearing, “It seems we’ve arrived just in time.”
So Ga could think of nothing to say, so he merely smiled at him dumbly.
“You’re bleeding,” Hino Son said, pointing to So Ga’s neck. Then he took out a handkerchief and gave it to him.
So Ga thanked him.
Ignoring everything else around him, Min La, without hesitating, had moved to cut Molo’s throat.
“Wait!” cried Nŏl. Min La turned to him, as if surprised to find him there. “We need to question him.”
Min La’s arm was shaking. His long hair had come loose in the fight and hung limp around his shoulders, moving a little in the occasional gust of wind through the trees. Bits of dead leaves had stuck to the blood that shone on the side of his head.
Looking around, Molo could see that he was the last of his company alive. He turned his eyes upon Nŏl, aware that he alone could save him.
“I am surrendering,” Molo said to Nŏl. “Please save me from this mad bastard.”
Hino Son pointed at him. “You shut your mouth.”
“He also killed my son. He’s trying to murder me to silence me.”
“I said, shut your mouth!” Hino Son repeated, hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Please wait,” Nŏl said again. “It is not a small matter to execute a bandit in Sona Gen.”
Min La shook his head. “You aren’t executing him. I am.”
So Ga was inclined to trust that Min La knew when an enemy ought to be spared and when he ought to be slain. But there was something in Min La’s eyes that surprised him, a distant flash of naked emotion. Min La’s hidden heart was indeed, So Ga suspected, too tender to withstand a cold-blooded execution.
So Ga said to Min La, “He is defeated. There is no need to kill him.”
“The only defeated enemy is a dead enemy.”
“Min La,” Nŏl said, holding out a hand to him. “I need to question him about my uncle. I need him alive.”
Min La turned a grieved face upon him and said, “When will anyone answer for what was done to the Sengís?”
The old man squirmed away from Min La’s blade and rose to his knees. He opened his mouth as if to say something, to plead for his life perhaps, but then he stopped, his momentum arrested by surprise as he stared at Min La and the large silver medallion that dangled from his neck.
Because Min La was standing with his back to him, So Ga couldn’t see the martial seal, though he saw the silver chain glinting in the sun. The old man saw it, however, as did Nŏl and Hino Son.
So Ga was struck by the latter two’s expressions. They did not seem surprised at all. What showed on their faces were matching expressions of grief and even pity.
When Min La realized what they were looking it, he hurriedly put the seal away, next to his skin.
Molo pointed, his shock crisp on his aged face. “You are—! He is—!”
But he did not have time to finish. In an instant, Nŏl had unsheathed his sword and used it to stab him through the heart. Molo fell against the tree behind him while the blood poured from the wound on his chest.
Nŏl said, “He is a bodysword from Hin Dan. And he is my friend. Not that it makes any difference to you.”
Min La and So Ga stared in shock as Nŏl cleaned his sword and put it away. Hino Son only smiled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“In the end, I think,” Nŏl said quietly, “justice is a matter of degrees.” He retrieved Min La’s coat from the forest floor where he had shed it and helped him put it on. “It is impossible to do the right thing all the time. Not all choices are equally right. But there are moments when saving one’s brother is more important than punishing a villain.”
Min La said nothing. He fastened the tie on his coat with trembling hands.
“I am sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” Nŏl said and helped Min La sit.
Hino Son leaned down and helped So Ga who has putting Min La’s things back in his bag. He gave So Ga a look of surprise when he picked up the heavy purse. So Ga avoided his eyes and took the purse from him.
“Thank you,” Min La said at last. His voice was a strained whisper. Nŏl gave him some water. “How did you know?”
Hino Son answered. “When we heard that Sivo Hon had left to see to some business or other, we suspected the worst. Rin Holok told us the path you took. We ran the whole way.” He laughed. But Min La and So Ga were too tired to join him.
They were surrounded by dead and the trampled, muddy remains of their fight. So Ga’s neck bled from a small cut and Min La’s throat was red from the hands of the giant bandit who had tried to strangle him. Hino Son was bandaging the cut on the back of So Ga’s hand, while Nŏl sat next to Min La and used a wet cloth to clean the blood off the side of his head.
“This isn’t as bad as it looks, fortunately,” Nŏl said. “I would invite you back to the estate, but…”
Min La shook his head. “We need to continue moving anyway.”
“Where will you go?” Hino Son asked.
So Ga and Min La glanced at each other. So Ga was waiting for Min La to speak, but he didn’t say anything and they didn’t press. Perhaps Min La had grown tired of lying to them. Saying nothing was the best he could do, under the circumstances.
Min La motioned to the dead. “You have no one to question,” he said, his tone apologetic. “I am sorry.”
Nŏl waved a hand. “My uncle worked with more bandits in Sona Gen than just these. I will find someone who will talk. And in the meantime—” he glanced at Min La “—it’s as you said, someone had to answer for what was done to the Sengís. I don’t know if or when my uncle ever will. But now everyone else who had a hand in their deaths is also dead. And that is a piece of justice.”
“What will you do?” So Ga asked him.
“Scour the forest for more bandits. I don’t expect they’ll be difficult to find. They’ve gotten complacent under Von Ol’s dominion. But all of that will end now.”
They watched as he stood and retrieved the long silver dagger from the forest floor. Then he went to one of the dead bandits and found its sheath.
“Ŏklo lands will not know peace for some time,” he said. “But we still have the wedding in a few days. And once it is done Rin Holok and Ona Lín will be able to help me sort out our eastern estates.”
“You should be careful,” Min La said. “Sivo Hin is dangerous and bold. I do not think he fears you or his father. And I expect he has dangerous friends.”
“However dangerous they may be, my task is not one I may simply choose to put aside.” Nŏl sheathed the silver dagger and held it out to him.
Min La stared at it.
“After all,” Nŏl said, “What’s a bodysword without a sword?”
After they had helped Min La and So Ga gather their belongings, Nŏl and Hino Son also gave them some food and some silver they had brought for them.
“We would have brought you a horse,” Hino Son said apologetically, “but there were none to spare.”
“That’s alright,” Min La answered, taking the food and the silver. “This is more than enough.”
“It will be better for you to leave Ŏklo lands as quickly as you can,” Nŏl said. “Just in case.”
“We will stay hidden and off the roads, don’t worry.”
Nŏl smiled and put his hand on Min La’s shoulder. “What was that you said the last time we parted? I think it was good luck, as we so soon after found each other again.”
Min La smiled and bowed, saying, “‘No matter how far the river flows, it always finds the sea.’”
So Ga did not know it then, but this was the last time he would ever see Nŏl Ŏklo and Hino Son So Hoth.
Or, if you’d prefer to make a small, one-time donation, you can
The final sentence saddened me because I had grown fond of Nŏl Ŏklo and Hino Son. Their assistance was invaluable.
they hide his shame and call him a brother. I am glad Min La and So Ga trusted them