Shadows Over Anchuunbugu
By then, Heo Jo had finished his tale.
"That's why we Goguryeo folk call ourselves the children of Heaven and hold our heads high. Our founding king, Chumo, was born of a daughter of the Heavens, you see."
"I see. Are many of these Goguryeo people still left?"
"Not many. Over these long, long centuries, most have scattered to the winds."
Hong-wi found himself thinking of Yeol Se-ho, the man who had given Heo Jo lodging. Yeol Se-ho, too, was said to carry no savage blood in his veins. Could he and his people be Goguryeo descendants as well?
While Hong-wi turned the thought over, Heo Jo let out a sigh.
"Some still live on in hope that a kingdom of Heaven's descendants will rise in this land again. Honestly speaking, I doubt such a day will ever come. This land, these trees — even the traces of the mighty heirs of Heaven, their faces and their voices — the world is slowly forgetting them all."
Heo Jo wore a sorrowful smile.
"All that's left of the old days are those memories you see out there. Now then, let me show you some other Goguryeo ruins. That fortress there is Onyeosanseong — and judging from where we stand... yes, right over there. That place is holy ground to us as well, for it holds the royal tombs of the Goguryeo kings of every age, and of their greatest nobles."
Hong-wi turned to look where Heo Jo pointed and realized the place lay just beyond the edge of Hwangseongpyeong.
"Hmm, it doesn't look far from Hwangseongpyeong at all."
"It is not. Ah, now that I think of it — weren't you living in Hwangseongpyeong yourself, Master Temusi-i? Then you must have passed by the great stone stele there."
"Ah, I have. It had a truly magnificent air about it. The folk here say it's the stele of a Jin emperor."
Hong-wi recalled the colossal monument standing far out on the plain.
"A Jin emperor, you say?"
Heo Jo gave a snort.
"That's what they all say. Well — in a den where the tiger is gone, the wolf plays king of the mountain. Hmm. I take it you don't know the truth of it, Master. No wonder — it's no surprise, really."
Seeing the bewilderment on Hong-wi's face, Heo Jo smiled wryly.
"If you call it an emperor's tomb, then an emperor's it is. Only not an emperor of Jin. One of these days you and I must go and see that stele together, and I'll tell you its whole story then."
"That's an invitation I'll welcome any day."
Hong-wi laughed. They roamed the mountaintop, gazing about at the landscape and trading talk of things old and new. Hong-wi was astonished at how wide and deep the monk's knowledge proved to be, but Heo Jo waved it off.
"Spend enough years living as a monk, and some of it rubs off on you, that's all."
As their conversation deepened, Hong-wi found himself, without quite meaning to, slowly opening up about his own past — though he did not tell all of it as it truly was.
"...And so, with my whole family implicated in this latest purge, there was no longer any way I could live in Joseon. Servants who had served our house faithfully since my father's day helped me flee — but in the midst of it, I lost many fine people."
"Ah..."
Heo Jo let out a long groan of sympathy.
"I heard the rumors well enough — that the true king was driven from the Joseon throne, and loyal ministers who rose to defend him were slaughtered without mercy. But your own kin were caught in the calamity too, I see."
Hong-wi nodded in silence. Seong Sam-mun, Park Paeng-nyeon, and their comrades. His uncle, Grand Prince Geumseong. The old man Jeon Jung-jae. And above all, his wife, Song Hyo-bin. Every one of them had died for his sake.
"I have no choice but to carry them in my heart from now on, and live bearing their sacrifice upon my shoulders."
"A truly noble spirit. If you endure, good days will come in time, and the wicked will pay for their sins in full."
"You believe so?"
Hong-wi smiled forlornly, but Heo Jo answered in a voice of quiet certainty.
"Of course I do — as surely as anything. Isn't the very fact that you still draw breath and stand in this place proof enough? Even your coming here, to the land where your ancestors once dwelt, must have its reason."
"If you say so, monk, then I will believe it."
"Hahaha!"
Heo Jo threw back his head and roared with laughter.
"And enough of this 'monk' business. We've both lived through heartbreak, haven't we? What do they call it — fellow sufferers? Let's simply be 'you' and 'me' from here on, and drop the formalities too."
Though they had known each other only a short while, the two had quietly taken to one another. After Tung Jugang and his companions, Hong-wi had gained another good friend, and the thought gladdened him.
On the spot, they compared their birth years and days. Heo Jo turned out to be ten years the elder.
"Men who bear the same wounds ought to live as close brothers from now on, don't you think?"
"Indeed. I shall call you elder brother."
Hong-wi answered without hesitation. If his true station were considered, granting the courtesy of 'elder brother' to a mere monk was an extraordinary concession. But Hong-wi had no intention of measuring rank anymore, and Heo Jo was a hero after his own heart.
"Then so be it, Temusi-i, my little brother."
Heo Jo laughed with a heart free of guile. When their laughter had spent itself, the two stood in silence, gazing down at the mountain below.
"So tell me, little brother — do you mean to return to Joseon someday?"
"I don't know yet."
Hong-wi spoke with a tangle of feelings.
"I cannot say with what face I would ever set foot on my homeland again. So many loyal souls died because of me... Ah."
In that instant Hong-wi realized his slip of the tongue and stiffened. He whirled around to face Heo Jo in alarm — but the monk's gaze stayed fixed on the distant horizon.
Had he heard?
Half dreading that Heo Jo had seen through his true identity, Hong-wi resolved to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Ah, speaking of which — what manner of man is this master of yours?"
"Ha, I never did get around to telling you. He goes by the name Joeui Seonsa — a most extraordinary man. I followed him for years and learned a great deal: my letters, my manners, even the martial arts. Why, this iron fan of mine was a gift from his own hand."
"Joeui Seonsa... If a man you praise so highly, brother, then I should like to meet him too. Is he away somewhere now?"
"He hates being tied down to any place, so there's no telling when he comes or goes. He passed through not long ago, and he told me a distinguished guest would arrive soon, and that when he did, I was to pass on a gatha for him. Looking back on it now, I'd say those words were meant for you."
"Is that so...? But how would he know anything of me?"
Hong-wi tilted his head, and Heo Jo chuckled.
"The man reads the ways of the world like an open book. It would be nothing strange if he foresaw your coming and left those words behind. Here — have a listen!"
Heo Jo cleared his throat and recited in a low voice:
"The young phoenix pierces the snare and takes wing —
yet the road it must travel is still long, and dark.
When the long night of crying alone has passed,
and the sun and moon rise anew — seek the danggwi, the herb that means return. That is all."
A shiver ran down Hong-wi's spine. It was a long moment before he could speak.
"Brother... do you, by any chance, know who I am?"
"Hm? Know who you are — know what?"
Heo Jo shrugged his shoulders and smiled, clear as still water.
"You're Temusi-i. And now you're my little brother, besides. What else is there to know?"
Hong-wi did not answer. Heo Jo looked up at the sky and went on.
"Goodness, the sun's already high. Let's head back — you'll want to make morning prayers yet, won't you?"
"Let's go, then."
The two started down the mountain path side by side. When they came to the temple gate, Tung Jugang and Sonata were there, deep in conversation — and their faces were grim.
"I was just about to go hunting for you two! Welcome back," Sonata said, his voice taut with impatience.
"Is something the matter? Wait — Hasutai? What brings you here?"
Hasutai gave a solemn nod, and a bad feeling settled over Hong-wi.
Tung Jugang spoke.
"Something dreadful has happened at Anchuunbugu."
"Dreadful? You mean your man Baduri, don't you? Of course I know him. He should be staying at Anchuunbugu. What about him — did he get into some trouble?"
Worry prickled at Hong-wi. Baduri had once been one of Bushuku's bandits, taken on at the recommendation of Utai, who had likewise come from Bushuku's crew. He had served faithfully enough so far — but a bandit's nature was not so easily shed.
Tung Jugang smiled bitterly.
"He didn't cause trouble. You'd have to say trouble found him. Someone cut off his head and hung it on a pole."
He paused for a breath.
"...Right at the gates of Anchuunbugu."
"What? Impossible!"
Hong-wi cried out in shock.
"No one — no one has ever dared such a thing!"
Even Sonata, the smooth-tempered one of the lot, flushed with fury and balled his fists. It was a rare sight indeed to see him so enraged.
"To do a thing like this — just how deep a grudge must that Baduri fellow have earned, anyway?"
"No, no. Grudge or no, no one has the right to heap this kind of insult on Anchuunbugu."
"That much is true."
At Sonata's words Tung Jugang shook his head. Their faces were a confusion of bewilderment. Even if someone meant to avenge himself on Baduri personally, why go to the length of beheading him and displaying the head at Anchuunbugu's very gate?
Then Hong-wi spoke.
"Or perhaps someone holds a grudge against Anchuunbugu itself."
"That can't be! That's absurd."
"Yeah, there's no way."
Hasutai and Sonata cried out in one voice at Hong-wi's suggestion — but Tung Jugang alone said nothing. Sonata caught the look on his face and turned to him.
"Hey, Jugang... what's wrong?"
"Why would you assume no one bears a grudge against Anchuunbugu?"
"Who, then?"
"Lee Man-ju. Who else but Lee Man-ju."
At that name, the two fell silent. After a long moment, Hasutai shook his head.
"Chief, be that as it may — would Lee Man-ju stoop to something like this?"
"Has that man ever cared about propriety?"
"Still..."
"Temusi-i, what do you think?"
Sonata turned to Hong-wi.
"Lee Man-ju is a lawless brute, no denying it. But I side with Hasutai here. There's no reason for Lee Man-ju to do such a thing."
"No reason? If he held Anchuunbugu in any respect, then why, last time—"
Tung Jugang bit off his words mid-retort. Sonata and Hasutai exchanged puzzled looks, unable to fathom why he had flared up so suddenly. Tung Jugang had no intention of telling even his closest friends how Lee Go-nap-hap had tried to lay hands on Wol-yeong. But if the Man-ju house truly honored Anchuunbugu, how could the likes of Lee Go-nap-hap have dared such an atrocity?
"I know full well what kind of man Lee Man-ju is," said Hong-wi — the only one among them who understood what Tung Jugang was thinking. "But the man keeps his distance from the venerable Onyan Isiha while at the same time seeking Wol-yeong as bride for his eldest son and heir, the Kunaha."
At those words, Tung Jugang, Sonata, and Hasutai all shuddered with revulsion. Even Heo Jo's brow furrowed.
"Every time I hear that abomination mentioned, my skin crawls."
"My apologies. My point is this: even if Lee Man-ju cares nothing for the elder Onyan, I doubt he'd provoke them this crudely. He covets the authority of the Onyan clan. To swallow all of Jianzhou whole, he needs more than raw military strength — he needs the weight of a great house's name, and the Onyan can give him that."
"Well, yes, but—"
"Right. And that's why I don't believe Lee Man-ju did this."
"Could it be intimidation, then? The elder Onyan keeps refusing him, after all..."
"Do you truly think a man like the elder Onyan frightens at this?"
Tung Jugang and his companions nodded, conceding the point.
"Fair enough, that's true."
Sonata scowled.
"Then whose doing is it? One thing's certain — whoever it is, he's playing a game with no retreat. To commit a deed even Lee Man-ju wouldn't dare."
"Could it have been drifting bandits?"
It was Heo Jo's voice.
Tung Jugang shook his head.
"For drifting bandits, the smart move is to take what plunder there is and vanish like the wind. They wouldn't go around broadcasting it to every village — and above all, if word got out that they'd done this at Anchuunbugu..."
"A crime like this must be judged at the Izara. At very best, exile — more likely, death."
At Hasutai's words, Tung Jugang and Sonata nodded silently in agreement. The Izara was a great assembly convened by summoning every chieftain in Jianzhou, and it was rarely called except for the gravest of matters. That was how seriously they all took this affair.
"I'm a stranger to your affairs, mind you," Heo Jo said, "but whatever the case, I don't think this ends with the one life Baduri lost. A vicious shura nursing malice toward Anchuunbugu is crouching in the dark behind all this."
"He's right, you know."
Everyone agreed. Tung Jugang turned to Hasutai.
"Hasutai — Anchuunbugu had guards, surely. This was done in broad daylight. You're telling me none of them caught even a whisper of it?"
"I'm ashamed to say it, but that's the truth of it."
Hasutai answered as though the shame were burning his face. Tung Jugang pressed on.
"And our own brothers were there too, weren't they? Who was on watch?"
"Tashari, Tasbuka, and myself."
Hasutai bowed his head.
"I have no face to show you, Chief."
"No — I'm not here to blame you. Who would ever doubt your instincts? I'd stake my back on you without a moment's hesitation, and on Tashari and Tasbuka just the same."
Even so, Hasutai could not lift his head. Sonata broke in.
"That's exactly what worries me, though. Fighters of this caliber were standing guard, and yet someone slipped right up to Anchuunbugu's doorstep and slipped away again, clean as a wisp of smoke. Even I couldn't manage that easily. What in the world are we dealing with?"
"He's right. And the real problem is that such a shura has set its sights on Anchuunbugu."
Tung Jugang's face had hardened like stone. A chill crept down every spine present.
Hasutai spoke through clenched breath.
"Under our eldest brother Keshine's command, all of our brothers have already gathered at Anchuunbugu."
"Good work! Then we've no time to stand around here."
Tung Jugang turned to Heo Jo.
"We must ride back at once. Heo Jo — after so long apart, I'm sorry it's come to this. I meant to enjoy a few days of your company, and then invite you up to our mountain stronghold."
"With business as it is, what can you do? It's a pity, but so it goes."
Heo Jo nodded with a grave face.
"But what's this? Why do you talk as though you can't come with us? A horrible crime has been done at Anchuunbugu — I'm coming along to lend a hand with the rest of it."
"Wait — what did you say?"
"Any beast that reeks of blood is going to learn what my iron fan tastes like."
Heo Jo grinned fiercely, and Tung Jugang grinned right back.
"If you'll do that, I feel ten men stronger. Thank you, truly!"
Then Tung Jugang turned to Hong-wi.
"And you, Temusi-i — what of you?"
"Naturally, I'm coming too. Anchuunbugu is precious to me — but this isn't just anyone. A man under my own command has died."
Hong-wi's voice rang with resolve, and Tung Jugang nodded.
"Good... I'll speak plainly — having you both ride with us puts my heart at ease. Thank you."
"Then let's pack up quickly. It's a long road ahead — shouldn't we eat a hot meal first, and lay in some trail rations besides?"
At Heo Jo's reminder, they all nodded. However urgent the hour, no man can fight on an empty stomach.
Hasutai spoke up.
"I'll be fine without. Better that I ride ahead to Anchuunbugu and carry the word myself."
"Right you are. We'll make all haste, but a man of your legs will arrive half a day sooner, at least."
Hasutai pressed down the road like the wind itself.