The Falcon Freed from the Snare
By the time Hong-wi and his party were making their way toward Manpoguja, Jeong Ho-chan was already in Gilju, in Hamgil Province.
He was staying briefly at a certain mansion there.
Unlike the houses of milder Hanyang or the three southern provinces, the estate had no grand wooden veranda; its layout was shaped like the character for "field" (田), the rooms squared around a central court. Beside the kitchen, a separate space called the jeongjugan had been set aside to trap every last wisp of heat rising from the hearth.
That was precisely where Jeong Ho-chan sat.
Another peculiarity of the place was that its walls were thick and sturdy enough to pass for a fortress. Part of that, admittedly, was the cold — but a palisade of logs plastered over with earth encircled the whole estate, with watchtowers and sentry posts posted at intervals. Even the other commoner houses in the village boasted walls built solid as ramparts.
Only a generation or two earlier, Gilju had been Jurchen territory; it had been barely any time at all since the land was folded into Joseon. The Jurchens living within Hamgil Province, unlike their kin north of the Tumen River, were largely farmers — yet even so, they never shied from trading the plow for the sword. Hamgil was barren ground, and when the harvest fell short, plunder was the only way to make up the difference.
Even after Joseon's border pushed north to the Tumen in recent years, the people of Hamgil never once let their guard down around their homes and villages. Small wonder, then, that Hamgil bred the fiercest fighting spirit in all of Joseon, and produced its finest soldiers.
Jeong Ho-chan sat in the jeongjugan, sipping tea warmed clear through.
A burly, scruff-bearded man spoke up.
"Seongnime's gone to the magistrate's office, so yew'll have t'wait a spell longer."
For all his rough, menacing face, the man's clothes were remarkably fine.
"No matter. I'll manage."
Jeong Ho-chan smiled lightly.
He had waited a while when, without warning, a commotion rose outside. The man rose to his feet.
"Seongnime's back!"
Before the words had even finished, a huge man strode in. It was the master of the house.
"Ah, it's gone right cold today, it has."
The master of the house, thick-bearded and imposing in bearing, shrugged off his fur-lined overcoat and handed it to his younger brother. Then his eyes found Jeong Ho-chan sitting in the room.
The next instant, his face split into a beaming grin and he roared with laughter.
"Well, blast me — who do we have here? If it ain't Jeong Ho-chan hisself! What brings ye down like a bolt o' lightnin'?"
"I sent word ahead that I was coming, but it seems it never reached you in time, Lord Ho-gun."
Jeong Ho-chan bowed with due courtesy.
"Wahahaha! In all of Hamgil, all of Gilju, there's one man alone who can slip in without a whisper reaching these ears of Yi Si-ae's — and that's you, Jeong Ho-chan!"
The master of the house was none other than the foremost magnate of Gilju, Yi Si-ae — and his younger brother, Yi Si-hap.
"That reminds me — I did get yer letter. Why'd ye take so long comin', then?"
Yi Si-ae flashed a wide, gap-toothed grin.
"On my way north, I found government troops camped at every crossroads. They searched everyone — gentry and commoner alike — and the moment anyone looked the least bit suspicious, they were put straight to the torture rack."
"Ahh, is that so. Hard road, that."
Yi Si-ae's face darkened into a scowl.
"It's all gone to rot since Lord Wonbong passed. Every time I think of that man, my gut just twists. If Lord Wonbong were still livin', things'd never have come to this. They can bleat all they like about a provincial commander — but it's them leeches under him, the vice-commanders and whatnot, who look down their noses at us, and it's a damn shame, I tell ye. And what was it they called us? Traitors? Traitors, my hide! If there's any traitors in this world, it's that dog Suyang what drove off His Majesty and the rest o' his pack of leeches down in Hanyang!"
Yi Si-ae spat out his long-brewed bitterness.
Jeong Ho-chan nodded along.
"Your judgment is sound indeed, Lord Ho-gun."
"Back in Grand King Taejo's day, the country never wore such a wretched face as this. Ye speak true. Who else in this Joseon's a loyal man to the royal house, if not us folk of Hamgil?"
Pride rang in Yi Si-ae's voice. And indeed, it was no exaggeration to call Hamgil the cradle of the Joseon royal line. Was not Taejo Yi Seong-gye's stronghold and power base Hamgil Province, centered on Hamhung? Only once the kingdom settled into peace did the province's standing sour, dismissed ever after as a distant frontier.
"Come to think of it... Ho-chan, is that news true? What ye sent in the letter? That His Majesty escaped Yeongwol?"
Yi Si-ae's last words dropped to a murmur.
Jeong Ho-chan inclined his head.
"It is true."
"So it's so! Now that's the sweetest news I've heard in years. Suyang must've felt his heart hammerin' clean through his chest, eh? Eh-hahaha!"
Yi Si-ae pumped his fist in the air.
"And so... where will ye be takin' His Majesty?"
"For the time being... we intend to bring him into the lands of the Jurchens."
"The Jurchen lands? Why not bring him here?"
Yi Si-ae's brow furrowed, and his younger brother Yi Si-hap tilted his head in confusion as well.
Jeong Ho-chan smiled faintly and gave a simple answer.
"The timing is wrong. Did you not say so yourself, my lord? Suyang already watches Hamgil Province with a hawk's eye — because he knows it brims with loyal men such as yourself."
"Ha! Well put, Scholar Jeong — ye've got a silver tongue on ye."
"I hear, too, that they've sent Yang Jeong back down as Hamgil's provincial commander."
"Yang Jeong? That grub-eatin' son of a sow is comin' back as commander?"
Yi Si-ae's face twisted in disgust.
"First thing that swine did when he got here was drink himself blind, and then it was houndin' us season after season — hand over otter pelts, offer up 'gifts,' bend the knee. Then barely a while back he went crawlin' up to Hanyang, brayin' about a new post there... and now they say he's comin' back? Hah. Unbelievable."
"That is exactly how much Suyang fears Hamgil. Which is why His Majesty could not be brought here."
"I see... Still, say — was there nothin' worth hearin' out o' Pyongan?"
A quiet rivalry toward Pyongan Province seeped through Yi Si-ae's question. Both provinces were frontiers in Hanyang's eyes — and precisely because of that, the rivalry between them ran hot. The feeling, perhaps, of my village may be a backwater, but I'll be damned if I lose to yours.
Jeong Ho-chan knew this well enough, and answered with an easy smile.
"Men with your loyalty and your grit both, my lord? Not to be found in Pyongan."
"Hard road for them, eh!"
Yi Si-ae threw back his head and laughed.
"Course not! In loyalty, our Hamgil has no equal in Pyongan — no, not in all Eight Provinces of Joseon. We're the only province that stood at Grand King Taejo's side with our very lives, back from the very start!"
Yi Si-ae's words pointed to the old Princes' Revolt. Driven from power by his own son Taejong, Yi Bang-won, and made abdicated king, Yi Seong-gye had seethed with a fury and betrayal he could not swallow — until at last a rebellion broke out, a father rising against his own son. The revolt ended in the son's victory, but Taejong found himself in an awkward position too: how could history record that his father had risen against him, mere years after he had risen against his father? And so it was recorded that the revolt had been led by Jo Sa-eui and his faction.
The people of Hamgil, of course, saw it differently. To this day they held it to be a rising made in loyalty to Grand King Taejo. Among all Eight Provinces, where else but ours rose in devotion to the Grand King? This was the quiet superiority the people of Hamgil — Yi Si-ae and his brother foremost among them — carried always in their hearts.
"If His Majesty were to come to Gilju, I could raise thousands of Hamgil's finest regulars even as things stand now. Escort His Majesty, gather the host, and march straight down on Hanyang — what could be more glorious than that?"
Yi Si-ae laughed heartily, then hardened his face.
"But the Jurchen lands, ye say."
"Fret not, my lord. It is only for a short while. When the hour comes, His Majesty will return. And when that hour comes, I shall need your strength."
"Ye needn't say it twice. And speakin' of which — today that Suyang pup tells me he's handin' me the post o' Gyeongheung garrison commander."
"Commander of Gyeongheung? That is glad news indeed."
"Ye think so too, Scholar Jeong? Eh-hahaha! That Suyang cur means to buy me off, is what it is. But what can he do? He's gone an' looped the noose around his own neck, hasn't he? Eh-hahaha!"
Having laughed his fill, Yi Si-ae's voice dropped low and grave.
"But it must come to pass this time. With this chance, the long-cherished wish must be fulfilled at last. The elders up above — the venerable Ondal Hyeong — think the same. We must show them we can stand tall upon this land once more. For the first time in hundreds of years."
Yi Si-ae's narrow eyes blazed as he clenched his fist.
"Your ancestors would say the same, Scholar Jeong."
"Indeed they would. Until now, Heaven's mandate had not yet reached us. Did they not say — the plan lies with man, but the completion lies with Heaven? But now Heaven's will has turned back toward us."
"Good! Very good!"
Yi Si-ae responded in high spirits.
"And since my mood runs high today anyhow, I mean to get a bit o' fresh air with ye, Scholar Jeong. What say ye — care to come along?"
"Gladly."
Jeong Ho-chan replied with easy grace.
Yi Si-ae, Jeong Ho-chan, and Yi Si-hap stepped out of the mansion together. They spoke of what was to come, of the currents likely to shape the days ahead — and as they talked, Yi Si-ae suddenly pointed at something.
"Oho — look ye there. Ain't that a Haedongcheong?"
Jeong Ho-chan followed his gaze: a goshawk, snared in a hunting trap, thrashing and fluttering.
Yi Si-ae clicked his tongue.
"Caught in a snare, poor thing. Fine bird from the look of her, mind — but gettin' caught like that means she's not yet full grown, short on experience, see."
As the three men drew near, the trapped hawk rolled its amber eyes and glared at them.
Just as Yi Si-ae had said, she seemed to have only just shed her chick's down. And yet her fierce, piercing gaze was keen as knives; strength showed in both her wings, and even a certain noble grace beneath it.
Jeong Ho-chan bent down low.
Remarkably, the hawk held utterly still while he studied her, her eyes fixed unblinking upon his — as though she were reading the very depths of him.
Suddenly, Jeong Ho-chan reached out and loosened the snare coiled around the goshawk's legs.
Until the last loop fell away, the hawk stood in astonishing composure, still and elegant. And when the snare was finally undone, she began to beat her wings before the watchers' eyes. She wobbled a little at first — but soon the bird climbed high into the sky.
Yi Si-ae cocked his head.
"Why'd ye go an' free such a fine hawk?"
Jeong Ho-chan answered only with a smile.
He looked up — and the hawk had already become a single speck, wheeling freely through the vast blue.
"A man's hand may loosen the snare. But how the freed hawk will live from that day on — that rests with Heaven alone."
"Hmm."
"Does it not stir your curiosity? What His Majesty, now freed, will accomplish."
Yi Si-ae and Yi Si-hap fell silent.
Jeong Ho-chan turned his gaze toward the northern sky.
"A pearl of the highest grade, though it sinks into mud, does not lose its luster. If His Majesty is truly a man worthy of his ancestors, then before long he will shake all the world from those Jurchen lands. The day the centuries-old wish is fulfilled will surely come."
"Indeed... and when might that day be?"
Yi Si-hap murmured.
"I cannot say when. But I believe it. I believe that day will come."
Jeong Ho-chan's eyes burned.
"Until then, my lord, build your strength here in Hamgil. I shall wander the Eight Provinces, gathering those who will one day serve His Majesty."
"I'd have thought ye'd be bound for the Jurchen lands yerself. Should ye not be at His Majesty's side?"
"In time. Before long..."
The young phoenix was for now evading the four-fanged beast and resting its wings — but once fully grown, it would spread them wide and soar across heaven and earth. Long ago, Hong-wi's ancestor, Taejo Yi Seong-gye, had likewise galloped along the northern frontier, reigning supreme over the many Jurchen tribes. Had that not been the very hour when the dignity of the fledgling dynasty of Joseon shook all the north — and in the end, shaken even the Central Plains themselves?
But once Taejo was dragged down by his own son, the majesty of the Joseon crown had faded, little by little, among the Jurchen tribes. A bitter thing.
Now, after decades, the chance had come again.
Jeong Ho-chan did not take his eyes from the northern sky.
When Jang Hui-sun returned to Ganggye, he received a summons from Hwang-ga.
When he stepped inside, Hwang-ga was gazing down at the ivory royal tally Hong-wi had left behind.
"You're back."
"Yes, Master."
"Any trouble on the road?"
"Nothing... worth reporting."
"I see."
Hwang-ga nodded.
A strange feeling crept over Jang Hui-sun. Hwang-ga would hardly have summoned him over so small a matter.
"Is there... something you wished to ask me?"
"Ask you? Nothing in particular."
Hwang-ga answered with a shrug.
Jang Hui-sun was on the very verge of a sigh of relief when—
"—though I suppose that's only if you don't tell me yourself."
Jang Hui-sun swallowed his sigh whole.
Hwang-ga's tone was as easy as ever, but something ominous threaded through his manner. He looked Jang Hui-sun straight in the eye.
"I gave you the Chief Boatman's post because I rated you above the rest — even over the objections of my old hands. Kkeok-chi loudest of all. He'd followed me longer than you had, after all."
"Yes."
A chill ran through Jang Hui-sun.
Hwang-ga went on.
"A pity, that man. Kkeok-chi. Coveted the Chief Boatman's seat all those years, and never once got it."
"Master!"
Jang Hui-sun dropped to his knees and bowed low.
Hwang-ga answered without so much as turning his head.
"What is it?"
"This lowly one would never dare hide anything from you."
Only then did Hwang-ga turn to face him.
"Come now. I trust you — would you truly try to deceive me? That's how much I trust you. So. There is something you'd like to say, I take it?"
Stammering, Jang Hui-sun poured out the whole story from the beginning — how Kkeok-chi's gang had ambushed them, and how Song Yu-bin had appeared at that very moment. Hwang-ga listened in silence, nodding slowly.
"All of that you've just told me — is it true?"
Hwang-ga twirled his goatee with one finger. The beard he had so carefully groomed would be ruined, but he could not have cared less.
"It is the Gospel truth, Master."
"Hmm."
Hwang-ga sank into silent thought. Kkeok-chi himself would, by now, be fish-feed somewhere along the Amnok — but not every one of his gang had shared that fate. One wretch who had managed to play dead and lie flat in the reeds swore he had watched Song Yu-bin and Hong-wi speaking together. He hadn't caught the substance of it — but for Hwang-ga, that alone was reason enough to care.
"So Song Yu-bin truly just... let that young gentleman walk away. Impossible. Utterly impossible."
He simply could not believe it. Not one of the Manpo smugglers — himself included — had ever failed to try buying Song Yu-bin over, and they'd tried everything: money, women, threats, even weeping pleas. The masterpiece among them was the fellow who'd sobbed great tears, wailing that there was no other way to care for his aged mother. Of course, the man had no aged mother at all — and Song Yu-bin, having heard him out, demanded to know what filial piety there was in breaking the nation's laws, then dumped the man straight into the Amnok River.
So then — could Hong-wi be a relative of Song Yu-bin's? Not impossible, but it hardly rang true to Hwang-ga. The Song Yu-bin he knew would show no mercy to kin of his own where the law was concerned. He wouldn't even bend his back an inch. A son, then? But Hwang-ga had never once heard that Song Yu-bin had a son, and the man's age argued against it too — unless Song Yu-bin had fathered one before he turned ten.
"Do you happen to know why he did it?"
Jang Hui-sun swallowed hard. In his mind he heard Cha Gyeong-yeon's warning all over again.
"Seongnime — listen, and listen close. You must never, ever breathe a word that he is the King. If it leaks out, you'll die for it too."
"You daft fool — you take me for an idiot?"
Jang Hui-sun was no idiot, of course. Even without Cha Gyeong-yeon's knife at his throat, learning so staggering a truth alone would have put his neck in a noose. A life among smugglers had taught him well: there were a thousand things in this world you heard nothing of, and must go on hearing nothing of, until you'd forgotten them entirely.
"But there's a problem."
"What problem, Seongnime?"
"Master Hwang is no fool. He has eyes and ears all across Manpo. What if word of today slips out and he comes asking you?"
A thoroughly plausible fear — and worth worrying over. At this very moment, Jang Hui-sun felt a strange flicker of pride that his worry had come true... and at the same time astonishment that it had burst open this fast.
"Can't you just talk your way around it?"
Jang Hui-sun had shaken his head at Cha Gyeong-yeon's question.
"No — that's too dangerous. Master Hwang can't be fooled by a half-baked lie."
And that was the trouble, precisely.
Jang Hui-sun stared into Hwang-ga's eyes. Behind that probing gaze he could feel an agile mind working ceaselessly, an intelligence that never stopped turning. Deceiving it would be brutally hard.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Ah — well..."
At Hwang-ga's question, Jang Hui-sun drew a deep breath. Then he produced the answer he had prepared.
"That young gentleman — they say he's kin of the late Lord Yi Jing-ok."
"Kin of Yi Jing-ok?"
Hwang-ga's eyes narrowed. For one heartbeat, Jang Hui-sun thought his lungs would fail him.
"Ah — then the story makes sense."
When Hwang-ga nodded, Jang Hui-sun nearly heaved out the breath in a sigh of relief.
That lie was none other than one Hong-wi himself had invented, after hearing Jang Hui-sun's worries. Looking back on it, it was exquisitely done — so exquisitely that the sharp-eyed Jang Hui-sun had, at first, taken it for the truth of Hong-wi's identity himself.
"As I understand it, Song Yu-bin was always Yi Jing-ok's man. And now that I think of it, I heard that too — when old Yi Jing-ok was murdered that time, his sons died with him, but the youngest alone vanished without a trace."
Thankfully, Hwang-ga did not know that Yi Jing-ok's youngest son, Yeon-won, was all of eight years old. And even if he learned it later, Jang Hui-sun had only said kin, never son — there was a hole to slip through if he needed one.
"No wonder Song Yu-bin holds such devotion for Yi Jing-ok and his house. And no doubt he carries the guilt of having been able to do nothing when Yi Jing-ok died. Yes — that explains it."
"And yet, seeing the great Song Yu-bin himself bow his head before that young gentleman... I confess I could scarce believe it."
"Mm. What a terrible waste."
Hwang-ga gritted his teeth.
"Had I known, I'd have had that young gentleman seized and held. A golden chance to take a lever over Song Yu-bin — thrown away."
The regret of a great fish slipped from the hook was written plainly across Hwang-ga's face. For a man so naturally skilled at burying his own feelings, it was a rare sight — and it showed just how keenly he felt the loss.
After a moment, he smiled.
"But he'll cross our path again someday, so there's no sense mourning overmuch."
"Pardon? He'll come again?"
Jang Hui-sun's eyes went round as saucers.
Hwang-ga clicked his tongue.
"Tsk — and here I thought you a clever one. Just watch, my friend. What do you suppose that young gentleman will make of himself beyond the Jurchen lands? Mark me — the day will come when he comes stretching out his hand to me."
Jang Hui-sun had heard no such prediction from Cha Gyeong-yeon either, so he could only tilt his head. But Hwang-ga was certain of it.
"Not a word of this to a living soul. Anywhere."
"Understood."
If Hwang-ga had ordered him to spread it about instead, he would have refused just as firmly. Jang Hui-sun withdrew at last, exhaling a long breath of relief.
Left alone, Hwang-ga sank quietly into thought.
Those who follow that young gentleman will be Yi Jing-ok's old men. The Jurchens are hostile to Joseon folk — and once they learn he's of Yi Jing-ok's blood, they won't sit still. So he must hide his rank regardless — and how, then, will he feed himself? Sooner or later, he will come to me.
Hwang-ga smiled.
His dream was not merely to be a smuggling boss. One day, he would control the river traffic of all Manpo — of the whole Amnok, in time — and on that foundation weave a commercial web that spanned the entire Jianzhou Guard. Then power beyond any Ganggye vice-magistrate or Jurchen chieftain would rest in his hands. He would envy no king.
It will happen. I have no doubt of it. And for that to happen, I must first deal with that Song Yu-bin — one way or another.