The Brother and Sister Who Never Miss
"We've got a new companion. I was just watching his archery."
"Was it any good?"
When the girl called out, Maruchi answered at once.
"Good? Good doesn't cover it, Arachi. You've missed the sight of a lifetime, I'm telling you. Even stacked up against Master Hasutai here…"
Maruchi broke off mid-sentence and glanced back at Hasutai.
Hasutai grinned and gave a slow nod before adding, "He's a cut above even me."
"What? Better than you, Uncle Hasutai?"
The girl's mouth fell wide open.
She set down her basket and grumbled, "Aw, I missed the show!"
"What on earth were you dawdling over that made you so late?"
"Dawdling? I was out digging up some herbs, and then I spotted some game, so I had to bring it back. That's all."
Arachi shouted right back at Maruchi, refusing to be outdone. As she drew near the group, she thrust two rabbits into the air.
"Plump and well-fed—these are decent ones. Get the water on the fire, quick!"
She turned and looked at Hong-wi.
Twelve years old or so, judging by appearances? Her voice was that of a young girl, but her face was as rough and boyish as a scamp's—there was something about her that reminded him of Maruchi, too.
Siblings, perhaps?
While Hong-wi was wondering this, Arachi asked, "Is that the newcomer? The one whose archery beats even Uncle Hasutai's?"
"Yep, that's right. Big Brother brought in a real gem this time."
At Hasutai's words, the girl's eyes went round as saucers.
"I can hardly believe it…"
"That's not all. He even beat Judong there."
"What? Him? Judong?"
Arachi's jaw dropped. She turned to look at Judong. "Is that true?"
Instead of answering, Tung Judong pouted with a sulky, put-out expression. Seeing his face, Arachi burst out laughing.
"Well, I'd say that settles it."
Then she spun around and bowed to Hong-wi with a politeness that sat oddly on her. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm called Arachi."
"Hey, hey!"
Before Hong-wi could return the greeting, Maruchi cut in. "Well now, that's out of character for you—an actual decent greeting!"
"What kind of cawing is that supposed to be?"
Arachi shot back with a scowl. Maruchi shook his head and began muttering toward Hong-wi. "Temusi'i, don't you go being fooled by how she acts. This girl here's nothing but a scamp in a skirt, missing only the braid."
"You never shut your mouth, do you!"
Arachi shrieked, and Maruchi stuck out his tongue.
"Come on, Arachi. People don't mistake you for a boy, do they?"
"No, they don't. Do they for you?"
When she snapped back brazen as brass, the onlookers who'd been watching the two bicker broke into laughter and applause. Maruchi wagged his tongue at her and went on. "See that, everyone? This girl hasn't got a single word of respect for her own older brother."
"Brother and sister, all right, from the look of it."
Hong-wi couldn't hide his own smile.
"Her tongue's sharp enough, but her stone-throwing is vicious, too," Maruchi grumbled.
Arachi's eyes narrowed to slits. "Hmph. All you do is yap while hiding behind that word 'brother.' Want to take one stone and find out for yourself?"
"Whoa, no, no. I'm good."
Maruchi's tail went firmly between his legs.
Hong-wi said, "Well, if you throw stones that well and talk that sharp, that's a fine thing all around."
"At last, someone who understands me!"
Arachi cackled with delight. There wasn't a shred of decorum in her, but the sight of that unclouded laughter was a delight in itself.
Tung Jugang chimed in. "Arachi's sling work really is first-rate. She caught those rabbits just now with thrown stones, you know."
"That's right, I did," Arachi declared with pride.
"Now I'm curious… Care to show us that talent of yours?"
"Nothing stopping me."
Arachi stepped forward with total confidence. She rummaged in the little basket she carried at her hip and pulled out a chunk of rock about the size of a fist.
"What should I hit? How about that thing's head?"
She asked it while casting a sidelong glance at her brother Maruchi's head. Maruchi yelped and scrambled backward, and the crowd roared with laughter.
"Ha! Leave your poor brother alone… There, see that tree branch? Try hitting that one."
Tung Jugang pointed. The crowd turned to look—a good hundred paces away, a single branch jutted out from a tree.
Arachi answered without a flicker of hesitation. "That far? Easy."
Easy?
Ho-in's eyes went round.
Stone-throwing was widespread in Joseon, too. On Daeboreum or Dano festivals, whole villages would compete against each other for sport—a folk game, if you wanted to call it that. But with injuries and even deaths so common that officials had long tried and failed to ban it. Kings themselves had been known to enjoy watching stone-fight bouts, after all.
"Hyaap!"
Arachi drew out a stone and hurled it with a sharp cry. A moment later the branch snapped clean off and went flying.
"Incredible!"
Hong-wi exclaimed in admiration. Arachi smiled brightly. "See that?"
"Magnificent."
That would have made her a rare stone-thrower even in Joseon. The others, already well acquainted with her skill, merely smiled.
Tung Jugang spoke up. "Maruchi! Are you going to let your little sister steal the whole show? Come on, show us what that ppyeom-chang of yours can do."
"Guess I will."
Having watched his sister's display, Maruchi's hands were evidently itching—up he stepped. What would he show them? Hong-wi and Ho-in were consumed with curiosity.
"Arachi! Throw me one of those rocks!"
"You got it!"
Arachi answered, fished a stone from her basket, took aim at Maruchi, and hurled it.
Oh no—
Ho-in's jaw dropped. She'd thrown it with everything she had, from the look of it—but Hong-wi did not miss the flash of Maruchi's hand moving like lightning.
Crack! The stone ricocheted in midair, knocked off course by the ppyeom-chang Maruchi had thrown to meet it.
Hong-wi let out an involuntary gasp. "Whoa!"
"See that?" Maruchi shouted proudly.
Ho-in asked, baffled, "How did you do that?"
"Like this."
Maruchi came over and showed them. In Hong-wi and Ho-in's eyes fell an iron-crafted ppyeom-chang—a short throwing spear.
"Master Jugang gave it to me as a gift. With this ppyeom-chang, there's nothing I can't bring down—bigger game, I take with the spear, right to the throat."
"Huh. So you're good with a spear, too?"
"These two's hunting skills are downright uncanny," Tung Jugang explained. "Arachi drives the game, Maruchi takes it down—there's nothing in those mountains they can't catch. They've even brought down a bear and a tiger before."
"Really?"
Hong-wi was startled. How could a pair barely into their teens…
"If I'd gone out hunting last time, I couldn't have beaten these two."
"This friend of ours took a boar worth a hundred nyang and a bear on the last hunt."
"In autumn, no less—true, all of it?"
At Tung Jugang's explanation, this time it was the siblings who were astonished.
"An autumn tiger or bear is something even we'd think twice about touching."
"There were circumstances. I got lucky, that's all."
Hong-wi laughed, and Maruchi and Arachi laughed with him.
"Come hunting with us this winter, why don't you?"
"Now that's an idea."
Then Tung Jugang turned to the whole company and called out, "Well! By now I'd say you've all seen what our friend Temusi'i here can do!"
"Yes, Big Brother!"
The crowd answered as one.
"So in Temusi'i's honor, tonight we hold a feast in the stockade! And Temusi'i's companion, a fellow called Jeon Ho-in, is a master of the kitchen—expect great things!"
"Really, now?"
The crowd roared their delight. Rough they may have been, but at heart these were honest, guileless folk—once you won them over, no one could be warmer.
In high spirits, they made their way into the stockade.
Ho-in set to work on the boar Judong had brought down and the rabbits Arachi had caught. Tasbuka and Tashari lent him a hand.
That evening became a feast of remarkable plenty.
Ho-in poured every ounce of his skill into the cooking. If anyone still harbored suspicion toward Hong-wi's party as "Joseon men," that last ember of distrust melted away like snow under the spring sun.
"Delicious! Delicious, I say!"
Kakduri and Tanduri emptied bowl after bowl of meat broth, senses gone entirely. But when it came to gluttony, no one could touch Tung Judong. He'd forgone a bowl altogether—he was hauling an entire cauldron into his lap and eating straight from it, gulping in great mouthfuls.
Ho-in's jaw dropped at the sight.
Was my stew really that good?
Yet at the same time, Ho-in was gladdened. He was no professional cook, but who could watch people exclaiming over his food and scraping their bowls clean without a surge of pride?
Even the taciturn Tasbuka did not stint his praise, and Hasutai and Tashari put away plate after plate of boiled boar. Sonata, for his part, declared he simply had to set the day's flavors to song, and started humming a tune on the spot.
Hong-wi, meanwhile, sat apart with Tung Jugang.
"What remarkable people. However did you gather such heroes in one place?"
"Well… it just sort of happened."
Tung Jugang smiled and passed him the bottle of airag. Hong-wi took it without ceremony, drank a swallow, and handed it back.
"The way it went when you met me?"
"Something like that. Though—now that I think of it, you and I have never once crossed blades, have we?"
"Shall we have a go sometime, then?"
"No need. I already know everything about you that's worth knowing."
"Ah, there it is—tails between the legs, the both of us."
Their clear laughter rang out into the night sky.
Tung Jugang looked up at it without thinking. The stars were thick and bright.
"A fine night, truly. But I wonder how long this peace will last."
Tung Jugang spoke with feeling. Hong-wi studied his face.
"That's sudden… Why? Surely a man like you isn't frightened of that Kunuma creature."
"Hardly!"
Tung Jugang snorted. "A thug like that doesn't worry me… What I fear is what becomes of this Jianzhou of ours."
"What becomes of Jianzhou…"
Hong-wi echoed the words. He laced his fingers, rested his hands behind his head, and looked up at the sky.
"It's a heavy worry, truly… I heard it, too—that things in the Jianzhou Right Guard are far from settled."
He spoke while recalling Hwang Ga's words from before. "Their Commander-in-Chief, Pan-chya, is said to be gravely ill."
"So you heard it somewhere as well."
Tung Jugang gave a wry smile. Hong-wi asked, "And how did you come to know?"
"Have you forgotten? I'm of the Tung clan myself. The kinship is distant, but kin all the same."
Hong-wi nodded silently, and Tung Jugang went on.
"That's right. Word of Elder Pan-chya's illness has been circulating quietly within our clan for some time now. I don't hold him for a particularly able chieftain, mind you… but if he passes, this whole Jianzhou will be plunged into chaos."
"Because the balance of power the Jianzhou Three Guards have maintained will be broken."
"Exactly."
The two men fell silent for a while. Only the distant noise of the feast drifted over. After a long moment, Tung Jugang spoke again.
"There are those who trust that Great Chieftain Onyan Isiha will manage something, as he did twenty years ago."
"But you don't share that faith, I take it."
"Honestly? No."
Tung Jugang lowered his head. "…I do trust the Great Chieftain, I do. But I can't deny that things are harder now than they were then. He has grown old, and Lee Man-ju has grown strong. And it shames me to say it of my own clan, but Elder Tungshan, they say, has no intention of compromising this time. He means to use this moment to absorb the Right Guard's strength and unite the Tung clan—indeed, the whole Altai tribe—under himself once and for all."
Hong-wi nodded without a word.
The Altai tribe, split today between the Jianzhou Left and Right Guards, had once been a single house—and both Tungshan of the Left Guard and Pan-chya of the Right had long yearned to reunite the divided kin. The trouble was that neither would be the one to bend the knee.
"Truth be told, even back in Pan-chya's day, twenty years ago, Tungshan's house was the stronger. Why else would Elder Pan-chya have thrown in his lot with Lee Man-ju? He has no reason to give up now."
"And how do the people of the Right Guard feel about it? When Pan-chya passes, whoever succeeds him…"
"There's his son, Tung Bohato, and his grandson, Tung Naranghap. But neither has any thought of going under Tungshan's banner. Same blood or not, they've come to hate each other worse than strangers."
"Hate him enough that they'd sooner kneel to Lee Man-ju?"
"Yes. Their thinking is, they'd sooner take shelter with Man-ju than bow their heads to Tungshan."
Tung Jugang nodded grimly. "And if that man absorbs the Jianzhou Right Guard on top of his own Jianzhou Guard—even just part of it—there will be no reining him in after that."
"Tungshan knows that as well as anyone. Can he really not be persuaded?"
"Difficult. When you weigh it, the very reason he'd shatter the balance of power to swallow the Right Guard is his fear of Man-ju growing—that's why he wants to absorb them now, while he can."
"That's trouble, then. …Is there nothing I could do to help?"
"Hmm."
Tung Jugang let out a long breath. "I honestly don't know. But if there's one thing needed right now—it's weapons."
"Weapons?"
At Hong-wi's question, Tung Jugang nodded. "Yes. My brothers are fine warriors, but they lack arms worth wielding. At best they go armed with hunting spears and bows."
Suddenly, Hwang Ga's proposal from days past rose in Hong-wi's mind. Why not deal in the iron trade…?
Hong-wi shook his head. It was far too dangerous. There was risk to Hong-wi himself, of course—but far greater was the risk of doing the very thing Joseon had always dreaded above all: arming the Jurchen forces beyond any hope of controlling them.