Echoes of Thirty Years Past
Ban Da-hong cried out in anguish.
"Elder, this is urgent! Even now, at this very moment, who knows what torments my father is suffering — how can I saunter off to Anchuunbugu at leisure?"
"Ban Da-hong! How can you be so thoughtless? In this situation, do you truly believe there is anyone in the Jianzhou Guard — nay, in all three of the Jianzhou Guards — who can stand against Lee Man-ju? Even the Tung clan is keeping their heads down as we speak!"
At Chahar's fury, Ban Da-hong lowered his eyes.
"You must not act rashly where Lee Man-ju is concerned. Already he seeks to make an example of the chieftains who struggle to pay their tribute. Do not hand him a pretext on a silver platter. Do you understand?"
Ban Da-hong did not answer.
Chahar frowned and asked again.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, Elder."
Ban Da-hong answered reluctantly.
Chahar let out a long sigh.
"I too must go to Anchuunbugu and plead our case before the Great Chieftain. Da-hong, if your father is gone, then you are the chieftain. Your entire clan now leans on you alone, so you must not permit yourself the slightest carelessness."
"Yes, Elder."
Ban Da-hong gave a curt reply, rose, bowed in farewell, and left. Chahar watched his retreating figure for a long moment, then slowly shook his head.
"Forgive me, honored guest. You should not have had to witness that."
"Not at all. May I ask what happened?"
"It is not a tale fit for a traveler from afar."
That was all Chahar would say before falling silent. After a while, he sighed.
"Lord Temusi-i. If you have come here, I suppose you intend to visit the other tribes as well?"
"That was my intention."
"Then I must tell you something. It may well concern your very life."
My life...?
Ho-in felt what little appetite he had left drain away entirely.
"Let me offer you some counsel. Sahalcha's situation is dire at present. If you value your life, do not leave this village. In any case, it will take time before your hides are ready."
"I understand. However, I had intended to travel throughout this region to lay the groundwork for my future business. So could you tell me how the land currently lies — which routes are safe, and which are not?"
"Very well. You are aware, surely, that this land falls under the Jianzhou Guard's dominion."
"Of course."
"It was not always so. The trouble began two years ago. We have been paying tribute to that Lee Man-ju..."
Chahar's brow knotted.
"...ever since we submitted to Lord Lee Man-ju. A protection fee, in essence. It was tolerable enough — as I said, this region prospered from the sable pelt trade. But four years ago, the demands for tribute suddenly swelled. They now demand double what we paid before."
"Twice as much?"
Chahar nodded.
"An absurd demand, naturally, and some chieftains pushed back. So Lee Man-ju sent his son, the Kunaha, to persecute the merchants traveling through this land. He incited bandits to ambush them — even to kill them. Before long, the trade routes were all but severed. The raids only stopped once we capitulated, though even then, they never ceased entirely."
Chahar continued.
"For a while, we somehow managed. But then famine struck two years ago, and everything grew harder. We scraped by until last year... I at least can offer sable pelts in place of tribute, but there are tribes — like the Ban clan's — with no such means. And Lee Man-ju refuses to let it pass. If you ask me, he intends to make an example of them this time. Not only Sahalcha — every chieftain in the Jianzhou Guard will learn what happens to those who do not meekly hand over their tribute."
"That is grave news indeed."
"What good does saying so do?"
Chahar hung his head, his face dark. Grief ran beneath his words — the guilt of a man forced to cast out the son of his sworn brother, who had come to him trusting in that bond.
"Why has he grown so violent of late, I wonder?"
"From what I hear, it began after that back-toothed Wild Boar of Hamgil Province died in Joseon. For a year or so afterward, even Lee Man-ju seemed to tread carefully — but with no reprisal forthcoming, he now throws himself into expanding his power with an easy heart. And with the tribute he collects, he draws every manner of rogue and bandit into his fold."
Hong-wi groaned inwardly.
So that was it.
For years, Yi Jing-ok had been the bulwark — the watchman monitoring every movement of the Jurchen tribes beyond the border.
That bulwark had been destroyed five years ago.
It had been the fruit of Suyang's efforts to eliminate any rival who might threaten him, and in the process it had torn a great hole in Joseon's northern defenses.
Lee Man-ju was aiming for that very gap.
"Then this truly is serious. You spoke earlier of going to Anchuunbugu — the seat of the Great Chieftain Onyan Isiha, was it not?"
"He is nothing more than a fool's hope."
Chahar smiled bitterly.
"Onyan... would that be the Wanyan clan, by any chance? The old Jin dynasty's imperial family?"
Chahar turned to look at Hong-wi in evident surprise.
"You know of them? And you, a Joseon man at that..."
"A merchant must know the affairs of the land where he trades."
Hong-wi answered quietly.
"Though I confess it was only half a guess. I did not believe the Wanyan line had survived. I was taught that their lineage was severed after the Mongol invasion."
"It is not quite so simple. It is true that when the Mongols took the imperial capital of Zhongdu, countless members of the imperial clan were slaughtered. But not every one of them dwelt in the capital, and many escaped. Those who survived — especially the direct descendants of the main line — are precisely those who dwell in Anchuunbugu."
"The direct line, then... that of Wanyan Aguda — Wangya Agolta himself?"
"If you were to pronounce it the modern way, then yes — Wangya or Wangyagi. But they are called by the old pronunciation: the Onyan clan."
Chahar corrected him.
"The lord of that house today is the Elder Onyan Isiha himself. He was born with that noble blood, to be sure — but even without it, he is a man worthy of the deepest reverence. There is not one soul among us who does not look up to him. Were it not for him, this land would long since have fallen to the Hurigai and the Odoli."
Chahar's brow furrowed, contempt plain upon his face.
Hong-wi spoke quietly.
"The Hurigai would be Lee Man-ju of the Jianzhou Guard, and the Odoli, the Tung family that holds the Left and Right Guards. So both are powers that rule over Jianzhou."
At Hong-wi's words, Chahar snorted.
"That is so today. But trace their roots and you will find they are not natives of this land — they are merely those who drifted down from the Ilan Hala of the north. To your eyes, I suppose, we and they are all the same stock..."
"Hardly. So to you, Elder, they are outsiders as well."
"Precisely. And they know it full well. Lee Man-ju is forever proclaiming that the Jurchens must unite and reclaim their ancient glory — but whose glory would that glory be, I ask you? Those who would enjoy the glory Lee Man-ju speaks of are the Hurigai and no one else. He speaks of a shared bloodline, yet he has never once regarded us as the same people."
Hong-wi took that truth to heart.
Chahar sighed.
"Were it not for Elder Onyan Isiha, everything in this land would have belonged to the Hurigai long ago."
"Is that so? What did he do?"
"It was some thirty years ago. Lee Man-ju, having suffered two punitive expeditions from Joseon and lost his stronghold, was in dire straits."
Hong-wi knew that history well. During the reign of his grandfather, King Sejong the Great, as Lee Man-ju grew into an ever-greater thorn in Joseon's side, two campaigns were launched against his stronghold around the Pajeo River. Though the man himself had escaped elimination, his power was greatly withered.
"But then fate handed him a chance. The Great Chieftain of the Odoli, Tung Mentemu, died — and his son Tungshan fell into strife with his half-brother Pan-chya. Lee Man-ju saw it as a golden opportunity to rebuild his weakened strength."
Mentemu — or Mengge Temur, as the Chinese records styled him — had in his prime shaken all of Jianzhou to its foundations, and the Ming had even invested him with the title of Commissioner-in-Chief of the Jianzhou Guard. Even Lee Man-ju had lived under his shadow while Mentemu lived.
"He had just been beaten by Joseon, so he could not leap in openly — but he was determined to use the breach to absorb the fractured Odoli tribe, or at the very least one half of it. Either way, the balance of Jianzhou would have swung back to Lee Man-ju in a single stroke. Into the hands of that savage, ruthless Hurigai..."
Chahar could not hide his disgust.
"My father fretted over it endlessly, yet no solution came to mind. As for me, I was nothing but a green boy then. And at that very moment, Onyan Isiha stepped forward."
Color rose in Chahar's face.
"Truly, he was a remarkable man. At the time he was allied with Mentemu himself. Why he chose to join hands with the Odoli of all people, I cannot say — but surely he had sound reason. He was always a man of brilliant judgment. Even Mentemu heeded his counsel."
Hong-wi nodded. If Mentemu harbored ambitions of unifying Jianzhou, he would naturally have wished to borrow the authority of the Wanyan clan; that he treated Onyan Isiha with such deference was no surprise.
"What he lacked was a power base of his own. Had he possessed one, he could have brought the Hurigai — aye, and the Odoli too — groveling at his feet by his strength alone! And then Jianzhou would never have come to this."
The light drained from Chahar's face.
"Listen to me, rambling on. An old man begins to prattle the moment old stories come up..."
"Please, think nothing of it. So what happened?"
"Onyan Isiha had no army of his own, but he had prestige, and he had connections. He proposed convening an Izara to mediate the strife within the Tung clan."
"An Izara — the council of chieftains?"
"Just so. Whatever is decided at an Izara, all must obey — that is our custom. Of course, there were those who opposed it. The Tung clan itself, the very parties to the quarrel — Tungshan, who held the upper hand in the fighting, and Pan-chya as well, for the contest was not yet decided and he liked it no better. Lee Man-ju? He need hardly be mentioned. And beyond them were many chieftains eager to seize upon the Tung clan's discord for their own ends."
Chahar shook his head.
"In those days, by my father's command, I ran errands in Onyan Isiha's service. Whether the Odoli butchered one another was no concern of ours — but we were suffering under Lee Man-ju's pressure, so the growth of his power gladdened us even less. That, too, was what Onyan Isiha feared most of all. It was a long, grueling work of persuasion, but he went from chieftain to chieftain and won them over, one by one."
"A man who could see far ahead."
"Only he could have done it. Otherwise we would be sunk in a far more miserable state than this, crushed under the Hurigai's heel. It is obvious, plain as day — but in those days many of us could not yet grasp that truth. Then, as Tungshan began to seize victory in earnest, matters grew harder still. Word spread that the losing Pan-chya would throw in with Lee Man-ju — and indeed, he nearly did. In that crisis, Onyan Isiha negotiated directly with Tungshan, and at the same time sent word to the Liaodong Regional Military Commission of the Ming."
"Ah — of course. That was when the Ming divided the old Jianzhou Left Guard in two, conferring the commissionership of the Left Guard upon Tungshan and creating a new Jianzhou Right Guard under Pan-chya."
"Correct. Tungshan chafed at it, but if he pressed Pan-chya too hard, the man might throw in with Lee Man-ju — and that was a prospect no one welcomed. What let Onyan Isiha persuade Tungshan was that he opened the man's eyes to this fact — and, decisively, he had the authority of the Ming's Liaodong commission behind him. And so the system of the Three Jianzhou Guards was born."
"And how did Lee Man-ju take it?"
"What choice did he have? His resentment must have burned fierce, but he accepted it. Yet he exacted a subtle revenge: he proposed granting Elder Onyan Isiha the chairmanship of the Izara — and at the same time making Anchuunbugu a neutral zone, a sacred ground that no one might touch."
"Was that truly revenge?"
"Revenge it was, subtle as it seemed. The chairmanship of the Izara is an honorable post, yes — but its holder must stand more neutral than any other chieftain, and so can never build a power base of his own. And by declaring Anchuunbugu untouchable, he barred it from raising an army of its own, ever. When Onyan Isiha hesitated, Lee Man-ju swore he would reject any accord whatsoever unless his terms were met — and in the end, the Elder yielded."
"A cunning scheme."
Hong-wi understood it well. Lee Man-ju must have hated Onyan Isiha, the man who had thwarted his ambitions — yet he could not afford to antagonize the revered Wanyan clan. At the same time, he had feared the growth of so prestigious a figure's power. Every thread of the bargain followed from that.
"Knowing what these times have become — aye, that is exactly what it was. None of us ever dreamed Lee Man-ju would rebuild his strength."
Chahar said with regret in his voice.
The same could be said of Joseon, Hong-wi thought. It had been a great pity that Lee Man-ju escaped capture during the Pajeo campaigns thirty years past — but King Sejong and his ministers had believed the northern threat settled once and for all.
"That is the way of it. But from what you say, Elder, surely Onyan Isiha will not simply stand by and watch."
"In other times, perhaps not. But the circumstances are against him. Pan-chya, the Commissioner of the Jianzhou Right Guard, has of late been gravely ill. Tungshan of the Left Guard intends to reunify the Odoli tribe on the back of this very opportunity. And so both of them go to great lengths to avoid provoking Lee Man-ju's wrath."
"Ah."
"And Lee Man-ju knows full well that the advantage is his. With Joseon's vigilance loosening besides, the whole of the Three Guards — not only Lee Man-ju — are pouring everything into arming themselves. In such a climate, who would dare stand between Lee Man-ju and the tribes he squeezes dry within his own domain?"
Chahar sighed once more.