Heir to the Ailing Hunting Dog
Shaaaaa—beneath a sky gone utterly black, the rain came down in ropes. It had been pouring for days, and the streets of Gaegyeong were half drowned.
Clip-clop, clip-clop. Two men in straw hats and straw rain capes rode soaked to the skin down an empty boulevard. The shorter of them, a compact, sturdy youth, lifted his hat and grumbled.
"Lord, it's enough to make a ghost wail. Drought as bad as that, and then the sky just opens and floods the whole place..."
Jo Yeong-mu chattered on as he rode. Beside him, Yi Seong-gye only nodded in silence.
This year the omens of disaster had come one after another. Out of the north the Red Turbans were pressing in, and on the sea the Japanese pirates ran wild enough to threaten even Gaegyeong. A brutal spring drought had left people starving in the Samnam, the three southern provinces that were Goryeo's granary, and rumor said plague was spreading there as well. The whole realm had prayed for rain. Heaven, as if telling them to die and be done with it, had answered with a deluge and a flood. Heartless. How could it come to this?
"They're all in an uproar—every paddy around Gaegyeong's been washed away! Harvest's finished, autumn or not. Down in the market right now a bolt of hemp cloth will buy you barely five doe of rice. That's scarcely a bucket!"
"Mm..."
That the portents should keep coming like this was an ill thing. Was Heaven trying to warn them? Young and unseasoned as he was, Yi Seong-gye had no way of knowing. He listened to Jo Yeong-mu's chatter while the rain soaked him through, and before he noticed it they had reached the Yi residence His Majesty had bestowed upon the house.
Yi Seong-gye swung down, and Jo Yeong-mu was quick to catch the reins and lead both horses off. The warrior, a grown man of twenty-three now, hurried his lord along.
"My lord, get inside, quick! You're soaked to the bone. What if you catch a cold standing out here?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Heh heh heh..."
What met Yi Seong-gye inside the residence was Jo Yeong-gyu, a retainer two years his senior. Jo Yeong-gyu took the dripping hat and rain cape and held out a hemp towel. Yi Seong-gye wiped the water from his face and asked quietly.
"How is Father?"
"Not well. I brought a physician to take his pulse and brew a decoction, but..."
"Thank you for looking after him, Yeong-gyu."
At his young lord's words Jo Yeong-gyu scratched his head, a little abashed. The Yi clan of the Northeast March had no footing in Gaegyeong and little familiarity with the ways of Goryeo. Jo Yeong-gyu, a man of Yanggwang Province who had entered their service as a retainer, not only followed Yi Seong-gye but served, in practice, as steward of the household.
"Is my elder brother here?"
"Yes. He came early and has been watching over the Military Commissioner's illness."
So Yi Won-gye was already there. Yi Seong-gye nodded, then asked again.
"And Cousin Cheon-gye..."
Jo Yeong-gyu gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
"I sent a man. The answer was that affairs of state keep him too busy to come."
Yi Seong-gye sighed at the answer he had expected.
"Change out of those wet clothes first, then go in to the inner quarters."
Yi Seong-gye nodded and headed for his room.
"Father, I've brought your medicine."
Supported by his eldest, Yi Won-gye, Yi Ja-chun raised himself from the bedding and brought the bowl of hot black decoction, only just brewed, carefully to his lips.
"It's a prescription from the physician Jo Yeong-gyu summoned—one of Seong-gye's retainers. They say he's a very gifted doctor here in Gaegyeong, hardly inferior to a royal physician."
"Heh... the man's got talent. Cough, cough..."
The medicine went down, and a fit of dry coughing broke from him. The batur once famed through the Northeast March for a hawk's sharpness and a hawk's wisdom no longer looked like his old self. Forty-five, an age when a man ought to be in his prime—yet there was no vigor left in the sallow, wasted face. Yi Ja-chun felt it keenly. He did not have long.
"So. I've been laid up and hadn't heard. You were promoted this time?"
"Yes. By His Majesty's grace..."
Yi Won-gye, thirty now—the age of standing firm—looked at his father with an awkward face.
Early that year he and Jo In-byeok had been called up with the relief force sent against the Red Turbans besieging Seogyeong. True to men of the Northeast March, they had led a swift Gabyeolcho, the household's elite riders, and won no small merit. More than that, they had followed Yi Ja-chun—himself raised to the junior second rank and named Military Commissioner of the West River, charged with the Yeseong approaches—in putting down the Japanese pirates raiding the country around Gaegyeong. On the strength of it, Yi Seong-gye and Jo In-byeok of the Udachi, the guard that attended the king, had risen to Hogun of the senior fourth rank, while Yi Won-gye, newly come among them, had been made Jungnangjang of the senior fifth. All of it this very month.
"Both my eldest and my second rising without a check... and my son-in-law doing well besides. The ancestors' virtue, truly."
Yi Ja-chun looked at his mild eldest with a soft face.
"But Cheon-gye? Did Cheon-gye say he was coming?"
"That... well..."
At the way Yi Won-gye avoided his eyes, Yi Ja-chun let out a deep sigh.
"The boy's too full of envy. A sorry wretch... cough, cough..."
"Father!"
When they entered the Udachi that kept close to the King of Goryeo, the cousins had all gone in together. But his nephew Yi Cheon-gye had always fallen behind Yi Seong-gye—and even behind the son-in-law, Jo In-byeok. Unable to rein in that fierce, hasty temper, he was forever flying into a passion. Among the great families of Gaegyeong, who already looked askance at men of the Northeast March, his name had only worsened. He was of the Northeast March, and the eldest grandson of the house of Yi; his martial skill, they said, was the equal of any man's. But Gaegyeong was not a place where brute strength alone won you esteem. And so, though his uncle had taken to his sickbed and summoned him with something that absolutely had to be entrusted, Yi Cheon-gye had not come even once.
"If that boy can't master his temper, someday this city will bring a great disaster down on him. While I live I can look after Cheon-gye. Once I'm gone, I don't know who will watch over him."
"Father! Gone? How can you speak so weakly?"
Yi Ja-chun smiled faintly at his eldest, whose face had crumpled. A boy short on talent, but kind. A gentle child who had never once spoken his hurt, though his father favored a second son by another mother. Gentleness was not enough in an age like this. A man needed ability. Sometimes he had to look on blood without flinching, and know how to deceive, and how to betray. His eldest was too good-natured, too mild, to cut through this troubled age and lead the house.
Yi Ja-chun spoke with a desolate look.
"Won-gye."
"Yes, Father."
"This father of yours has done you a true wrong. You never said so, but how deep the resentment in your chest must have gone..."
Haggard, he stroked his eldest son's hand.
"I kept Seong-gye at my side and took him everywhere, and you, my firstborn, were always left behind. I've been a bad father."
"No, Father. The second son is simply more gifted, and I fall short. That's all."
Watching his eldest smile so easily, Yi Ja-chun felt his chest tighten. But what had to be done had to be finished.
"Won-gye. As you know, the whole world is in turmoil. From the suzerain state through Liaodong and on to this Goryeo, no one can see what will happen, or when. The road ahead is dark."
His eyes gleamed as he looked at his son.
"In a time like this, what must we do to preserve our house? The house of Yi?"
Yi Won-gye thought over the sudden question, then lifted his head.
"A man with ability, with the trust of others, and with the will to decide. Such a man must lead the house."
"Yes. That's right."
"Father... do you mean to entrust the house to the second son? To Seong-gye?"
"I'm sorry."
Yi Ja-chun sighed as if the words choked him. Yi Won-gye held his father's hand gently and smiled.
"I know well enough that my own gifts are lacking. This is for the house. Why take it so hard?"
"Won-gye..."
He could not go on. Still, he felt he had to settle this before he died.
"For the house to stay whole in a time like this, blood must bind tight to blood. I wanted to speak my true mind to both of you—you and Cheon-gye—but that boy simply will not..."
"Brother Cheon-gye will understand your will someday, Father."
At words so purely gentle, Yi Ja-chun gave a bitter smile. This was why he had chosen the second son. To lead one's own blood and keep them safe in a world this harsh, a man had to be ruthless.
"Don't worry about a thing. Just get well. As you charged me, I'll support my younger brother Seong-gye for the sake of the house."
"Yes. I'll trust you, and you alone."
Then the door opened, and Yi Seong-gye came in, changed into dry clothes.
"Father. Elder brother. I've returned from the palace."
"Ah, Seong-gye, you're here! I'll go see to brewing Father's medicine. You stay with him."
"Yes, elder brother."
Yi Ja-chun watched with satisfaction as the two of them, half-brothers though they were, got on so well. When only he and Yi Seong-gye remained, he waved his son closer.
"Cheon-gye still won't even look at you?"
"The fault is mine. I fall short."
"Hah..."
Yi Ja-chun shook his head, then, wasted and gray, took Yi Seong-gye's hand and charged him.
"Look after your cousin Cheon-gye. He is still the eldest grandson of our house of Yi, is he not?"
"I will, Father."
Yi Seong-gye held the thin hand gently.
"Not only Brother Cheon-gye. I'll look after Brother Won-gye, and the younger ones in Hamheung, and I'll see that Father's other lady is attended as she should be."
Yi Ja-chun smiled faintly. His second son already knew the body was failing, and already knew what the father wanted. Yi Won-gye and Yi Seong-gye, and the sons by concubines, Yi Hwa and Yi Yeong—a promise to live in harmony even with brothers born of different mothers. The steady voice was meant to ease the apology and the worry lodged in a corner of a father's heart.
"Yes. It must be so. Only then can this father close his eyes when he dies..."
He muttered it with a wasted face, and Yi Seong-gye looked at the father he had always looked up to, grief in his eyes. Yi Ja-chun had always been confident, always meticulous. Since becoming a subject of Goryeo he had weakened sharply—whether from Gaegyeong's foul air, or from endlessly fretting over how a man ought to conduct himself at court. He took to his bed with a cold at the slightest cause. The body he had damaged, hurrying an army back to Gaegyeong last winter, had still not recovered.
"Seong-gye. When things go well, everyone will want to stand with you. But when you meet with ruin, when things turn desperate and dangerous, who among them will so much as pretend to know a country bumpkin from the Northeast March?"
Yi Seong-gye nodded. The pride of Gaegyeong's great families ran high indeed. They would not properly acknowledge the house of Yi or the house of Jo, upstarts out of the Northeast March. To overcome that, a man would have to pass the suzerain's examinations as the young scholar-official Yi Saek had, or win a literary name across the world and be respected for it. Merely riding well and shooting a bow well earned nothing but contempt.
"When it comes to a brutal choice between life and death, the only thing you can trust is your own blood. Isn't that why I married your sister into the Jo clan?"
"I understand, Father."
"You must bind yourself by marriage to capable, trustworthy men, as you are bound to your brother-in-law Jo In-byeok. That is how you gain allies in this Gaegyeong who can help protect our house."
He went on, charging his still-green heir with what the head of a house must do—from the lessons their ancestors had learned after leaving the mild land of Jeolla to scrape a living among the Jurchens in the harsh, bitter north, to the experience Yi Ja-chun himself had gained in this city.
"Still, it is a true blessing that His Majesty has gained a legitimate heir this time. Only when the royal succession is secure will the politics of Gaegyeong settle a little, and that is good for our house as well."
"For our house too?"
At the question, Yi Ja-chun nodded.
"The great families and the men of power sneer at the house of Yi and the house of Jo and call us His Majesty's hunting dogs. It stings, but they aren't wrong. I rose to the junior second rank, and the rest of you have advanced beyond your years, only because His Majesty stood at our back. Is that not so?"
"Without His Majesty, our house would..."
"A tree with shallow roots sways in the wind. What roots does a country bumpkin have, freshly come to Gaegyeong? The only thing to rely on is His Majesty's favor. Never forget it."
He spoke to his nodding son with a grave face.
"But it is also dangerous to trust in His Majesty alone."
"What? What do you mean..."
"To His Majesty, our house of Yi is nothing but a loyal, fierce hunting dog. A country bumpkin from the Northeast March, scorned in Gaegyeong—nothing but a hunting dog with sharp teeth. That is why he keeps us close and cherishes us."
Yi Won-gye and Jo In-byeok had been called out against the Red Turbans. The main strength of the Gabyeolcho under Yi Ja-chun, and the troops of the Northeast March, had not. They had waited in Gaegyeong.
"Many among the great families of Gaegyeong still regard the Great Khan as the true sovereign. Even that young scholar-official you've grown somewhat close to, Yi Saek—loyal to His Majesty, of course, but doesn't he also hold that the lord who rules the world is the Great Khan?"
"He did. Yes."
The illustrious houses of Gaegyeong had traveled to and from Khanbaliq for long years, intermarried, and at times even taken office in the suzerain state and received its posts. The Confucian scholars, forever quoting Confucius and Mencius, were no different. As monarch of the people of Goryeo, the king was owed their loyalty. At the same time, as a vassal king, it was only proper that he show the utmost deference to His Imperial Majesty. They had even arrived at a conclusion so tangled it was hard to follow: that the Gi clan and the other treacherous ministers had clouded the emperor's sage favor, and so there had been no choice but to stand against that army. It was a way of thinking Yi Seong-gye found difficult to grasp. In truth, such things hardly mattered.
"Unlike them, our house of Yi has neither roots nor connections. We are nothing but hunting dogs leaning on His Majesty's favor, and that is why he keeps us close without suspicion."
"You mean..."
"What happens if, as I have charged you, you build alliances by blood and sink the roots of the house deep? Will His Majesty not grow angry, seeing his hunting dog dare to slip its collar and move as it pleases?"
A chill ran down Yi Seong-gye's spine.
"Surely not even then..."
"Look at His Excellency Yi Gwon, who won immense merit annihilating the great host of the Red Turbans. Don't you see it?"
"Mm..."
"When you lead the house hereafter, you must understand this. Not as the head of a mere military house, but with the wisdom and the seasoned judgment to preserve the family in the tangled politics of Gaegyeong."
Yi Seong-gye's eyes flashed, and he bowed his head.
"I will keep it in mind, Father."
"But thoughts like these must be kept deep in the heart. Very deep, Seong-gye."
Yi Ja-chun leaned to his son's ear and whispered.
Yi Seong-gye nodded, his gaze cold.
"Like a tiger stalking its prey, keeping its body hidden?"
Yi Ja-chun smiled.
"Yes. Exactly that. A tiger shows its fangs only when it can tear out the prey's throat in a single bite. Ha ha ha..."
An heir who, taught one thing, understood ten. Even if he himself did not live long, Yi Ja-chun felt certain his blood—the house of Yi—could weather this troubled age. No. They might become something more. Was the storm of a chaotic age not also the chance for a gifted man to soar?
"Ha ha ha ha—cough, cough..."
The laughter broke, and the cough tore out of him until he suffered with it.
"Father, you should rest now. We can talk again later."
"...Yes. Yes, we should."
Yi Ja-chun looked up at the son who supported him and laid him back on the bedding.
"Remember. The house. The house comes first. The house of Yi, your own blood, before this Goryeo, before anything else..."
"I know. The house comes first."
Yi Seong-gye drew the quilt over his exhausted, ailing father and put out the lamp.
"I will never disappoint you, Father. I will set the house of Yi upon bedrock, and make it prosper for generation after generation."
The young hawk of the Northeast March. In the dark, his eyes flashed, sharp.