A Feast for the Kunaha
"I need to get my hands on some iron. Can you manage that?"
"Yes... iron, you say?"
Pushan Hadaru's mouth hung open.
Igonahap did not care for the look of it one bit.
"Answer yes or no. Nothing else!"
"Y-yes, it's just, well..."
Pushan Hadaru hemmed and hawed. This was simply too enormous a request. It would have been easier if the man had demanded women instead.
"I... I will look into it."
"Good."
Igonahap made as if to rise from his seat. Pushan Hadaru jolted in alarm.
"W-wait, just a moment, Lord Kunaha! You've come all this way to Hwangseongpyeong—surely you must allow us to host you properly before you go?"
"Hm. A hosting, is it."
Igonahap squared his shoulders, though in truth his mood had quietly improved. He was savoring, right here in this room, a taste of power he could never have felt in Sorobirada. On top of that, his constant comings and goings to Sahalcha of late had forced him into an unwitting life of austerity.
He glanced over at the men standing beside him. Irongha smirked and gave a knowing nod.
"What manner of hosting, exactly?"
Color bloomed across Pushan Hadaru's face.
"Whatever you desire, my lord, we have it all."
"Everything except iron, that is."
Igonahap needled him for no particular reason. Pushan Hadaru flustered and waved his hands.
"I shall find a way, somehow. But iron is, well, that is to say, yes, a rather... difficult commodity..."
"Yes, yes, I understand! It's hardly urgent anyway..."
Igonahap rubbed his chin. Iron did not simply drop from the sky, after all, and he had held no real expectation of obtaining it immediately. What genuinely intrigued him was this 'hosting' of Pushan Hadaru's.
"You'll be wanting women, won't you, Lord Kunaha? A great man like the Dudu always needs his women."
Pushan Hadaru leered. His small eyes narrowed further still. He had heard plenty about Igonahap—this was a man who took any woman in a skirt, young or old, without discrimination.
He must be starved for women. Perhaps terribly so.
For his part, Igonahap made no move to correct the title the man kept using.
Dudu... so, a Dudu!
He was rather enjoying being called Dudu. Yet he deliberately answered with cold composure.
"Do you ply the pimp's trade as well?"
"Am I not the finest merchant in all of Hwangseongpyeong? Iron may be tricky, but as for everything else—I deal in nearly anything."
"Good! I'll entrust it to you, then."
"It's no boast, my lord—feel free to expect great things. My goods are always dependable. ...Though before that, might I ask the Dudu's preferences?"
"My preferences?"
Igonahap considered for a moment. The mellow, experienced taste of a woman who knew her way around a man was fine in its way, but on a day like today something savage stirred low in his gut. He wanted to look upon a trembling virgin before him and feel the pleasure of a beast with its prey in sight.
"A virgin, then."
"Yes, my lord—a virgin it is!"
A virgin... tch, what a demanding creature this is!
Pushan Hadaru's mind raced. Whatever's in the slave market will have been sullied by someone already... though a lecher like him might not even know the difference. Hm, let me think. Wudana—that fellow should have at least one thing worth offering.
The tribesmen plundered frequently, and their victims were the Ming subjects of Liaodong or the people of Joseon across the river. Those taken captive traded at a tidy price among the labor-starved tribesmen, and women were no exception. The trouble was that plunder bred every manner of foulness along the way, so one could hardly expect a decent virgin to arrive untouched into slavery. Even so, Pushan Hadaru trusted that the slave merchant he dealt with could handle an order like this. There had to be at least one or two.
"If you will excuse me a moment."
Pushan Hadaru bustled out. Just then, Ugunai was walking in.
"Lord Pushan. I have something to report."
"Now?"
Pushan Hadaru snapped at him. His mind was wholly occupied with how to cook Igonahap just right, and now this...
But Ugunai paid it no mind.
"You remember that fellow, Temusi-i?"
"Temusi-i? Temusi-i..."
As Pushan Hadaru answered offhandedly, Ugunai furrowed his brow.
"The Joseon lad Hwang Ga brought in."
"Ah! Right, that fellow. What about him?"
"He's returned from Sahalcha."
"Has he? How wonderful for him."
"My lord!"
When Pushan Hadaru continued to answer with dismissive shrugs, Ugunai raised his voice. Pushan Hadaru shot him an irritated glance.
"So what? I suppose he got lucky and made it back somehow."
"He didn't just make it back. I don't know what he did or how, but he pulled off something enormous in Sahalcha."
"Absurd!"
Pushan Hadaru scoffed—then caught the grave look on Ugunai's face.
"...You're serious?"
"When have I ever joked with you?"
"But still—Ugunai, think, man. The boy was up against the Sahalcha crowd. You had Iharachi planted with him as well. By any reckoning, that whelp should have been the one taking a drubbing. How could he possibly have succeeded?"
"How would I know? But the fact remains—he came back with over a dozen packhorses loaded to the gills with prized sable pelts!"
Ugunai fixed Pushan Hadaru with a level stare.
"I'm afraid we misjudged him badly. On his very first trading run, that boy out-earned the annual profit of our entire merchant company many times over."
"Hmm."
Pushan Hadaru wrinkled the bridge of his nose, though he did not seem to take it quite as seriously as Ugunai did.
"We must move against him. We must."
"That much is true, but now is no time to pick a needless fight with Hwang Ga."
"Why ever not?"
"The Kunaha has come, and he's demanding we hand over iron."
"Iron?"
"Yes. Iron."
Pushan Hadaru nodded in confirmation. Like it or not, they would have to lean on Hwang Ga. For the sake of that man's goodwill, if nothing else, the young one called Temusi-i would simply have to be left alone for a while.
"...Understood."
Ugunai pulled a sour face, but he yielded the point.
"Anyway—good timing, as it happens. Go to Wudana right now and find out whether he has any... virgins. Joseon virgins, mind you—it will have to be a Joseon girl. If Wudana starts going on about some Ming virgin, ignore him outright. It must be a Joseon virgin."
Pushan Hadaru knew perfectly well that the concept of chastity among the tribal folk could not hold a candle to that of Joseon women. He had no intention of making a careless blunder before Igonahap and squandering such a golden opportunity.
Ugunai scowled.
"In the middle of all this, you're out procuring women for pleasure?"
"Not for me! It's to entertain the Kunaha—so don't you dare make a mistake of it."
Pushan Hadaru turned away with an irritated flick of his hand. Temusi-i did not exist for him even at the edge of his vision; his thoughts ran solely to the business of buttering up Igonahap.
Just as Ugunai turned to go, Pushan Hadaru barked after him.
"Oh—one more thing! Ugunai! When you see that Temusi-i fellow, tell him to pay his membership fee. Well, if he's made good, so be it—he's eating a third of the trade for free, isn't he?"
Elated at the prospect of drinking, Jang Hui-sun made short work of the remaining business. The precious pelts brought back from Sahalcha were laid reverently in the warehouse, and a full manifest of the goods was drawn up. Just as in Joseon, Hwangseongpyeong had no properly established monetary economy, so value was reckoned in rice or in bolts of cotton cloth known as oseungpo—five-measure fabric.
Hong-wi paid Iharachi and the porters handsomely for their trouble.
"You've worked hard, Iharachi. Thanks to you, we pulled it off."
"The honor is mine, Your Worship. It's been the pride of my life to come to know you."
Iharachi had been thoroughly won over by Hong-wi. He had acknowledged the man's skill in combat, true—but it was his display of righteous conviction in Sahalcha that had moved him to his core. As far as Iharachi could see, willingly throwing oneself barefoot into the fire for people with no blood tie whatsoever was not something just anyone could do.
Tucheonggae and the other porters were likewise awed by Hong-wi's openhandedness.
"I'll be calling on you for the next trading run."
"Whenever Your Worship calls, I will answer."
Iharachi saluted in the manner of the tribesmen, then led his men away. Ho-in watched them go and spoke.
"When I first saw him, I honestly took him for a bandit chief. Now he seems a man of real loyalty—and real ability."
"Which is precisely why you must never judge a man by his face."
Cha Gyeong-yeon replied. At that, Jang Hui-sun broke into a sly grin.
"What say we go loosen our throats a bit, then?"
"You've helped us plenty, Master Hui-sun—it's only right we repay the favor."
"Well now, do a good deed and heaven rewards it. Come along then! I know a fine tavern. And since we're drinking, Joseon folk ought to drink Joseon liquor, don't you think?"
"There he goes, swelling up over money that isn't even coming out of his own purse."
"Oy! Free liquor is meant to be drunk properly while the drinking's good. Isn't that right, Lord Temusi-i?"
Hong-wi could only laugh heartily at Jang Hui-sun's shameless cheek.
"Right then—bottoms up, as they say!"
The tavern Jang Hui-sun had vouched for looked, from the outside, like a ramshackle lean-to on the verge of collapse. Ho-in swept it with a doubtful eye.
Let's hope the roof doesn't come down mid-drink.
"It may look like this, but every rumor worth hearing in Hwangseongpyeong—spoken or unspoken—passes through this place. Every knave in town ends up here."
"Let's go in."
Sure enough, the tavern was roaring. Drunken bellowing, the sounds of scuffles...
Before the party had even stepped inside, one drunk was sent tumbling out the door. Ho-in glanced at Jang Hui-sun, who merely shrugged.
"Probably didn't pay his tab."
They entered. The drunks turned their bleary eyes toward them and gaped. As Hong-wi's party moved to claim a corner table, people began pointing and murmuring among themselves.
It got under Ho-in's skin.
"Why are they all staring like that?"
"Why do you think? Word's out that Lord Temusi-i struck it rich on this run."
"How does news travel that fast?"
"Rumor is rumor. Now—bring us a round of Cheongju! Let's rinse our throats with something expensive for once."
"A bit rich for washing down the Seongnime's throat, don't you think?"
"Oy! With such distinguished company present, would cheap rice wine or mare's milk suffice?"
At Cha Gyeong-yeon's remark, Jang Hui-sun glowered for show and guffawed.
"Imagine that—a smuggler boatman learning his manners."
"Enough chatter. Your Worship—drink first."
Jang Hui-sun snatched the freshly arrived bottle as if wresting it away and filled Hong-wi's cup first.
"This success of yours deserves every congratulation, but mark me—flies will come swarming soon enough. The tribal merchants won't celebrate Your Worship's triumph; they'll envy it. They'll do their best to trip you up. Bandits will come sniffing too."
"Chilling thought."
Hong-wi answered as he accepted the cup.
"In this tribal land, the line between merchant company and bandit gang is paper-thin. To guard against bandits, the companies hire mercenaries and arm themselves—but any one of them could turn roving bandit the moment it suits them."
"What a heartening world you describe."
Ho-in grumbled. Jang Hui-sun grinned.
"Still, taking that Iharachi fellow into your confidence—bold move, that."
"Did you know him already, Seongnime?"
"Not personally, but word travels. He was Pushan Hadaru's referral, wasn't he?"
"That's right."
"That miserable cur! Pushan slipped Iharachi to you with nothing but mischief in his heart, I'd stake my life on it."
Hong-wi's party nodded, recalling the group's attitude on that first day.
"Strong, but rough as gravel—and worst of all, he despised Joseon men. I only learned it later myself. A few of the tribal merchants were snickering among themselves, saying Your Worship was in for a fine ordeal."
Jang Hui-sun drained his cup in one go and laughed heartily.
"Those dogs must have choked when they saw Your Worship come back hale and hearty—not to mention flush with a fortune. Life's a strange thing, isn't it? Why, looking back now, Sahalcha was working to bleed you dry from the very start, was it not?"
"It was. Sahalcha and the Ban clan village—they'd been turned into an utter shambles."
Hong-wi told them of seeing Biriherimdon and Igonahap in the Sahalcha village. Jang Hui-sun knitted his brow.
"That's a tale too grim for table talk. Let me pour us another round first, and then I'll tell you what I know."
Jang Hui-sun took a long, satisfying pull of the expensive Cheongju and wiped the droplets from his lips with his sleeve.
"Business in Hwangseongpyeong isn't what it used to be these days."
"Why? Crossing the Amnok should be easier than ever, no?"
Cha Gyeong-yeon lowered his voice.
"...Manpo's own Song Yu-bin has cast his lot with us now, after all."
"That much is true. In fact, thanks to Your Worship here, crossing the Amnok has become a fine deal easier—though only for our crews, mind, and even then not openly."
Jang Hui-sun grinned slyly and refilled the cups.
"Blast, empty already... Another bottle here! Now, where was I? Ah yes—the state of the Hwangseongpyeong trade. These days Lee Man-ju has doubled the taxes, and every man jack of us is half dead from it."
"Lee Man-ju?"
Hong-wi's brow furrowed.