The Boar's Last Flame
It was a chance of a lifetime.
The beast, occupied with chasing Hong-wi, had left its flank wide open for Tung Jugang.
Worse still, it had been twisting and turning in every direction, and its pace had slowed considerably because of it.
Tung Jugang raised his spear.
With a dull thud, the boar leapt into the air.
Then it toppled over sideways.
It looked for all the world like an ancient tree finally falling.
Hong-wi, Wol-yeong, and Oun-yeong slowly circled their horses around the fallen boar.
Wol-yeong gazed at it with an expression of wonder.
The rough, snorting breaths were growing fainter by the moment.
A savage beast that had been fighting on the very edge of life and death only moments ago was now dying.
Quite suddenly, Wol-yeong felt a pang of pity for it.
Before she knew it, she had drawn closer to the boar.
Tung Jugang saw her approach.
He was a seasoned hunter, and he knew all too well that even a boar mortally wounded and inches from death was still extraordinarily dangerous.
Such a beast could send greenhorn hunters flying with a flick of its snout, hurling them a full fathom into the air.
Tung Jugang shouted urgently.
"Stop—"
Wol-yeong flinched.
At that very instant, the boar that had been lying flat after taking the spear scrambled to its feet and bolted like lightning.
Wol-yeong's horse reared up on its forelegs and screamed.
For a heartbeat it seemed the boar would charge straight into her. In that instant, Hong-wi raised his spear.
With a whoosh of cleaved air, the spearhead struck home with a thud.
The impact staggered the boar.
It thrashed about like something gone mad.
"Not this time!"
That one moment saved Wol-yeong's life.
In the very nick of time, she managed to spur her horse clear of the danger.
The boar snorted and wavered—as if that had been its final flare of life—and then collapsed where it stood.
Only now did it lift all four legs into the air, trembling fitfully.
Thoroughly rattled, the party waited a long while yet.
Only after confirming that the boar's movements had ceased did Hong-wi, Wol-yeong, and Oun-yeong dismount, one after another.
Hong-wi walked over to Tung Jugang.
"Are you all right?"
"Mm."
He held up his horn bugle. It was shattered—broken, apparently, when he'd been thrown from his horse earlier.
He tossed the now-useless horn aside and went on.
"If a single horn bugle was all it cost to bring down a beast like this, it was a bargain."
"That's true enough, if you're not hurt anywhere."
Hong-wi extended a hand to him. Tung Jugang clasped it and pulled himself up.
The two approached the fallen boar and studied it closely.
"This one's truly magnificent."
Hong-wi marveled at it.
"Even at a glance, it's worth a hundred jeon at least."
"Aye. This beast alone settles the question of who won this hunt."
Tung Jugang smiled wryly.
"But what are we to do about it? All three of us landed at least one hit apiece."
"I did fire three arrows into it, but none were fatal."
Wol-yeong shook her head.
"So the credit for bringing it down should go to my elder brothers."
"Hmm."
Hong-wi and Tung Jugang, without either being first, turned to look at one another.
"The greater share is yours. Your second strike was the mortal wound."
"But you're the one who cut its throat."
Tung Jugang met the point squarely. The two men laughed heartily.
"So does that make it ours jointly, then?"
Hong-wi pressed on.
"But a winner must still be decided, no?"
"The sun is far from setting—there's plenty of chance yet."
Tung Jugang replied. Drawing his hunting knife, he continued.
"But first, let's take a bit of the beast's vigor into ourselves."
Among hunters, boar's blood was known—along with roe deer blood—as a potent restorative that rekindled one's strength. And in truth, it was.
With practiced ease, Tung Jugang slit open one of the beast's veins and drank the blood as it gushed forth.
"Drink up. It's fine medicine."
Tung Jugang wiped his reddened mouth with his sleeve as he spoke. Hong-wi, following his urging, drank the boar's blood as well.
A rich, iron reek filled his mouth.
Tung Jugang turned to Wol-yeong.
"You too, Wol-yeong?"
She hesitated. But the next moment, she too began to receive and drink the boar's blood.
Hong-wi watched her with some surprise. It only belatedly occurred to him that the wild frontier folk were accustomed to drinking animal blood without the slightest qualm.
Oun-yeong drank as well.
"I could eat something," Tung Jugang said.
It was true enough. Hong-wi felt the hunger too—it seemed that expending real strength had only made it worse.
Hong-wi gestured toward the boar.
"Shall we dress it out?"
"Bit of a waste to do it now. And it'll take time, above all."
Fair enough. A boar worth a hundred jeon would make a magnificent trophy.
Tung Jugang spoke again.
"There should be something to make a meal of. A pheasant or a rabbit would do nicely."
Having made such a grand kill, a hearty meal would be welcome indeed.
As if it had been waiting for exactly those words, a loud metallic ringing sounded from deep in the grass.
Kwok, kwok.
All four of them smiled.
"Looks like a pheasant's come calling on its own two feet."
"So it has."
Tung Jugang gathered up his bow and quiver.
"Then shall we go? But don't stray too deep—and just a bird or two will do."
The four of them dispersed in different directions.
Hong-wi moved stealthily through the grass. He could hear the distinctive call of a long-tailed cock pheasant.
He nocked an arrow to the string and waited a moment.
The pheasant burst skyward with a thrash of wings—and in the same instant, his arrow pierced through its eye.
Hoisting the fallen bird, Hong-wi rose from his spot.
He was just about to call the others over when the sound of voices reached him.
Hong-wi cocked his ear.
That's Grand Chieftain Onyan Isiha's voice.
He frowned. The next moment, he recognized Onyan Ichigeo's voice as well.
Isiha and Ichigeo appeared to be in the middle of some kind of quarrel.
"...Just hear me out for once, my lord brother!"
Curiosity stirred, Hong-wi tucked the pheasant away and crawled slowly closer.
"I know well that you don't trust me. But that, too, is for the sake of the clan. How old are you now, my lord brother? Aren't these the years when you ought to be preparing what comes after? What do you mean to do with that child—Wol-yeong?"
Onyan Isiha seemed to answer in a low murmur.
Hong-wi edged closer still—close enough now to see how red Ichigeo's face had grown.
"Lean on the Tung clan, you say? Why, my lord brother! You, of all people, who know everything. What on earth are you expecting from the Odoli? Fancha lies abed sick right now, and they say he won't last long. Then his son Tung Bohato will inherit—and do you think that man is anyone's idea of reliable? Tungshan has his hawk's eye fixed on the Jianzhou Right Guard. Twenty years ago the man had no experience, so he accepted your arbitration. But do you believe a Tungshan grown gray with authority will accept your arbitration now? And if he doesn't—what then?"
Onyan Isiha did not answer.
"Shall I tell you my thinking? That Bohato whelp will reach the same conclusion his father did. Rather than reconcile with an untrustworthy half-uncle, he'll sooner bow his head to Lee Man-ju. And Lee Man-ju knows it. You've noticed yourself, brother, how he's been squeezing the Jianzhou Guard dry to swell his war preparations of late."
"I've heard much of it. There's murmuring on every side."
"Murmuring!"
Ichigeo shook his head with an expression of utter exasperation.
"What does such murmuring matter? Those who grumble will always grumble. But when the whole of Jianzhou is playing for one great stake, what weight does a little grumbling carry?"
Ichigeo went on in a sneering tone.
"My lord brother, one cannot swim against the tide. Why do you keep trying? Wed Wol-yeong to the Kunaha, and our clan rises onto solid bedrock. Don't look at it so. Yes, the Kunaha is a rash man, no question. But when Lee Man-ju dies, who inherits his seat? At the very worst, the Jianzhou Guard; at the best, perhaps the Jianzhou Right Guard besides—one great power he'll inherit all the same. By the time of the children Wol-yeong bears, it wouldn't be strange at all for them to become hegemons over all of Jianzhou. If the Kunaha comes to his senses, he might even achieve it in his own generation. So what's the problem? Send Wol-yeong to him, and our clan will win back its old glory!"
"And you yourself will achieve the ambition you've nursed all these years. My congratulations."
At Isiha's words, Ichigeo let out a sigh.
"My lord brother... I won't hide my ambition. What would be the point of hiding it? Yes—I covet your seat. I covet it beyond all reason. But it was you yourself, was it not, who said nothing in this world is better than when a man's private ambition and the good of the whole clan can be made to run together? You said that people are creatures moved by self-interest, and that if that interest can be made to serve the whole, it is a very fine thing indeed."
"Yes. I did say that."
An unmistakable weariness lay in Onyan Isiha's voice. Clearly this conversation was not the first of its kind.
"That is why I found my own answer. My lord brother. If you must hand Wol-yeong over to Lee Man-ju and yet wish to preserve the name of the Onyan clan—then entrust it to me. There's no harm in it, is there? If Temur were still alive, I would never have—"
"Do not speak of Temur before me!"
Onyan Isiha cried out in anguish.
Ichigeo stared at him with a strange look.
"Yes. I have no son. My only son is dead. But I have Wol-yeong. I have no intention of offering Wol-yeong to Lee Man-ju—nor, at the same time, will I permit you to become head of the clan."
Ichigeo was silent for a while. Only after a long moment did he speak.
"Why, my lord brother? Why?"
"You have shown that for your own greed, you would sell the clan itself—and to our enemy, no less!"
Onyan Isiha shook his head.
"I remember it all too clearly. How he butchered the Goryeo people on the mere suspicion that they might one day become a threat. My wife's kin died in droves that day—Wol-yeong's own kin on her mother's side, I mean. And yet you, now of all times, speak without a flicker of shame of sending Wol-yeong to her mother's family's murderer."
"Circumstances change with time. And if it is Hwang Ga's daughter at stake, surely you know the marriage is no mere marriage. When politics is the reason, yesterday's enemy can become today's comrade—why can you not see that?"
"That much may be true. But Lee Man-ju is not a man to be trusted that far. You should think hard on whether he will truly remember and honor what he promised you. Suppose he does become hegemon of Jianzhou, and suppose Wol-yeong is wed to the Kunaha. At that point he will already hold our clan's prestige in the palm of his hand—do you truly believe that even then he would simply leave us be?"
Ichigeo's mouth snapped shut.
He glared at Onyan Isiha with savage eyes.
"That's something we'll only know when the time comes."
"So you believe that if you became Grand Chieftain in my place, you could change everything. Do you truly think that once you sit in this seat, you could pull it off?"
Ichigeo was silent for a while.
"I do."
"You said it, then. Truly?"
"I did!"
Ichigeo exploded in that instant.
"Yes, I said it! Do you doubt it? Just look at yourself now, my lord brother, and set yourself against the man you were twenty years and more ago. Back then you were truly magnificent. When that far-off Mentemu died, a man like you could have subdued Tungshan or Fancha alike—and Lee Man-ju? Lee Man-ju is nothing! The very reason he merits being called a mere 'upstart' is that men like you existed back then. If you had willed it, reviving the glory of the old Jin Dynasty would not have been a dream at all!"
Onyan Isiha said nothing.
Ichigeo clenched his fist and began to pace, as though his emotions had broken loose.
"And what did you do with that matchless opportunity, brother? An arbitrator—an arbitrator, of all things! A mere arbitrator! What did you gain by it? The honor of having preserved peace in Jianzhou? A peace that didn't even last thirty years? My lord brother, you were wrong—you were wrong, I say! This younger brother of yours is deeply disappointed... oh yes, bitterly disappointed."
"And what would you have done?"
"What you did not dare to do in that moment. I would never have let that chance slip away."
"So it seemed to you."
Onyan Isiha drew a long, long breath.
"And that is precisely why I cannot give you this seat. Such a fool... The strength of the Onyan clan can only be exercised by never stepping into the light. Your arrogance would devour not only you, but the whole clan besides. This conversation is over. Go."
Just then, Hong-wi felt a presence behind him.
He whipped around—and there stood Tung Jugang.