Chapter 28: What I saw in enemy hands, Part 1
A/N: Many thanks to evilteddybear for beta reading ^_^
Minor correction to this chapter and the last—I changed the name of the Imperial Capital to Tenchou, to be consistent with the map in chapter 63 of the manga.
The fire beneath his skin came and went, but the pain was constant. Every part of Soo-won's body ached, his head throbbed, the air scraped as it rushed in and out of his throat. He tottered on the verge of consciousness, clinging to the black numbness that reigned behind his eyelids, but the spinning world seemed bent on dragging him conscious—
He woke to the movement and sound of a ship—the rhythmic swaying, the water splashing against the prow, wooden boards creaking. His frame was limp over someone's shoulder; metal bound his wrists and ankles. The man was carrying him across the deck. Soo-won labored to pry his eyelids apart; they felt gritty and swollen. At first, he saw only blurs of yellow light and dark shadows. It was seconds before he could make out swinging pools of lantern light, the bodies of unconscious men and women in Shin uniforms littering the decking. This was the Gangwon, Mi-jung's ship… Chains rattled as he attempted to move. His memories were hazy. He remembered Seong-ha's attack, the poison…and nothing after that.
The man stopped when he shifted. "Now you wake up?"
Soo-won's eyes widened. Hak?
The Thunder Beast let him down, setting him on the decking and propping his back against the ship's hull next to one of the cannons.
Soo-won blinked in the shadow of his former friend. What are you doing here? He tried to speak but no sound issued from his throat.
Hak brushed hair and sweat from his forehead, breathing hard. Blood stained the Thunder Beast's clothes, though it was hard to tell how much of it was his. He pulled a waterskin from his belt, dropping it in Soo-won's lap. "Stay here," he said, slipping away. Hak carried a coil of rope in his right hand.
As if he had the strength to move at all. With weak, trembling fingers, Soo-won loosened the ties of the waterskin and managed to bring it to his lips. The cool water eased his patched throat, quenching the blaze of heat inside him, at least for the moment. Even that small movement winded him. He slumped against the wooden hull, trying to breathe carefully, clutching the waterskin in his lap. Shifting only sparked a stabbing pain in his side that left him gasping, sweat beading his brow. He looked down and saw the bright crimson that marred his robes and the strips of black cloth that had been wrapped across his abdomen. There was pressure against the knife wound, as if extra dressings had been placed there. He wasn't surprised to be alive, nor to be aboard a ship at sea, bound for some unknown destination. But… Why are you here, Hak?
A groan of metal hinges and a heavy clunk preceded daylight spilling into the ship. Soo-won was blinded momentarily, his ears filled with the sounds of the sea and the rushing wind snapping the Gangwon's sails.
Hak returned to him, taking the waterskin and pulling him up by the arm. "We don't have much time. We're only lucky it's still cloudy."
Leaning against the Thunder Beast's shoulder, Soo-won managed shuffling steps towards the influx of daylight. Hak once more lowered him to the deck, leaning him against the hull beside the open hatch. Soo-won looked out, blinking until he could see, but there was only haze at the horizon, the sea blending with the sky. He couldn't see the shore. "It's…?" His voice came out as a hoarse croak.
"Late morning." Hak was knotting the rope around a nearby post. "We're headed northeast. Land is west."
Soo-won squinted. "…You're sure?" There wasn't any shadow of the sun to go by.
The Thunder Beast shrugged. He bent, threading rope beneath Soo-won's arms, around his back, and tying it securely. Then Hak swung out of the hatch.
Soo-won peeked out as far as he dared, watching as Hak steadied himself on the pilot ladder against the hull. At the bottom was the skiff that must be their destination. The back of Soo-won's head throbbed again, making him wince. He lifted his shackled hands, rubbing gently, finding a bruise.
Hak paused, glancing at him. "Sorry, you hit your head coming up the stairs."
Soo-won lowered his hands to his lap. "I did?"
Hak's lips pursed. "I hit your head. Accidentally." The Thunder Beast climbed down, out of view. Soo-won leaned out a little more. Hak held onto the pilot ladder with his left hand and one foot as he reached down towards the ropes that lashed the skiff to the hull. With a knife, the Thunder Beast began sawing through the strands.
A mist of salty sea air moistened Soo-won's face. He was fully awake now, sore, but as he stretched, he could move around a little bit. He brushed damp pieces of hair back as he looked out, eyeing the churning waters of the ship's wake. "We're going pretty fast…"
"What?"
Soo-won cleared his throat, raising his voice to be heard over the wind and sea. "We're going pretty fast to drop in the skiff."
One restraining rope snapped, sending the back half of the skiff to trail in the water. It bobbed violently in the roiling waves. Hak gave him a cool look. "You a sailor now, Soo-won? Magically."
He pressed his lips. "I've read about it. Which is more than I think you can say."
The Thunder Beast rolled his eyes. He started in on the next rope.
The ship lurched a bit as it hit a swell, listing port-side. Soo-won caught himself breathlessly against the frame of the hatch, his heart racing in an instant, his gaze full of the mixing seafoam that ran alongside the ship. The rope around him had enough slack to let him climb down to the skiff; it would only keep him above the water, not from falling out of the ship.
An odd shadow parted the sea at the edge of his vision. Now I'm seeing things. He blinked hard; rubbed his brow—
But he saw it again—a dark shape in the water, moving contrary to the motion of the sea…and then vanishing. Soo-won stilled, suddenly cold. "Hak…"
The Thunder Beast got through the second of the three ropes tying the skiff. The small boat surged side-to-side in the agitated water, ramming against the base of the hull.
Soo-won ran his gaze back to the Gangwon's wake. Amidst the jagged ruffles of foam he caught flashes of movement—a long, sleek body moving sinuously through the water. As large as the skiff. It dropped back, disappearing from view… Then reappeared closer and to the right— No, that was another one.
His knuckles whitened as he clutched the edge of the hatch. "Hak!"
"What?" The Thunder Beast climbed down into the skiff, bracing on his knees, attempting to steady it, to keep the small craft from wrecking itself against the side of the ship.
Before Soo-won could say anything more, an arrow pierced the bottom of the small boat, just inches beyond where Hak knelt.
"I commend you, Thunder Beast." The voice—a woman's—came from above. "You broke steel chains, disabled five of my best, and made it this far. But you don't know these waters."
Soo-won heard running footsteps behind him just before hands grabbed his arms—two men in Shin uniforms. The woman's accent, however, was clearly Kai. She was on the spiked roof above, out of Soo-won's eyesight.
Below, Hak had gone still, facing the ship's wake. Seafoam and water rapidly filled the bottom of the skiff.
"By all means continue," the woman said. "Shall I demonstrate what happens if they catch the scent of your blood?"
"Yeo-jin, we have him," one of the men called out.
"Take him back inside."
Soo-won was dragged from the hatch. The men shoved him back against a wooden post hard enough to knock the air from his lungs and send shooting pains through his side. His vision swam with spots as they loosened the rope from around his chest only to coil it around his arms and torso, lashing him tightly to the beam.
He heard a sudden cracking, wood-shattering sound; his heart leapt into this throat— "Hak!"
"Be quiet!" One of the men cuffed him across the face. Soo-won's head snapped to the side, his lower lip stinging and throbbing. A trickle of blood ran down his chin.
He heard grunting and coughing, the sound of hands and feet scrambling against the hull— A shadow fell across the hatch as Hak got his head and shoulders through the opening, his hands scraping for purchase against the decking. The Thunder Beast managed to brace an elbow against the wall and slumped there for a moment, breathing heavily. Soo-won exhaled as relief flooded him.
The men left him, pulling Hak inside and holding him facedown against the decking. Hak's blue robes were soaked from the waist down. The men tied his hands behind his back and his feet at the ankles. Next came the chains.
The woman swung down from the roof, landing inside the hatch. Soo-won took in her Shin uniform, her covered right eye, the bow slung over her shoulder. Yeo-jin was thinner and shorter than Mi-jung, wisps of blond curls peeking out through the strips of black that covered most of her head. She crouched on one knee at Hak's side as the men coiled sturdy chain around the entire length of his body.
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she hauled his face off the floor. "That's the last time you try my patience, Thunder Beast. I should acquaint you with the keel." Dropping him roughly, she rose.
Soo-won spat blood from his mouth. "You damage your merchandise, my lady."
The woman's one-eyed gaze flicked his way. "If you were that kind of merchandise, Kouka King. The only thing standing between you and death is my master's mild displeasure."
His fingers curled in his lap. "Your master…shall I assume he is responsible for your missing eye?"
Her eye darkened as she reached inside her tunic, withdrawing a small clay vial. "You could only wish to be so fortunate."
Soo-won's lips twitched, ice and rage running simultaneously through his veins. "He must expect war with Kouka for this act."
Yeo-jin snorted, a sneer twisting her mouth. "As if your paltry army is a threat to the Empire." She uncorked the vial; he caught a whiff of that same strong, sweet fragrance— Light scattered off metal as she pulled a dagger from the sheath strapped to her thigh. "You aren't worthy of being the ants crushed by his feet."
The next time Soo-won came to, there were warm bodies pressed against him on all sides. The stench of sweat and human waste was suffocating. He was on his knees—bound in that position by rope that ran along his palms and over his feet, with the metal shackles still cutting into his wrists and ankles. A gag of rough canvas bit into the corners of his mouth and even though he blinked, he only saw darkness—a hood covered his head, he could feel it fluttering just beyond his nose when he breathed. The motion of the ship had been replaced by the squeaking of wagon wheels along a dirt road. He couldn't tell how much time had passed. Soo-won's side still ached—worse than before—and a cut on his arm stung. Cuts, maybe. He didn't know how many times he'd been poisoned…or if Hak was in here with him.
After an hour, maybe two, the wagon abruptly stopped. He heard canvas snapping and a felt an influx of fresh, chilly air. Then, he heard water splashing and muffled shrieks— Soo-won flinched as ice-cold water was dumped over his head, soaking the hood and pasting his hair against his face. The bodies around him writhed, coming alive with frightened sobbing, stifled cries. Judging from the pitch of the voices, many of the captives were young. He was surrounded by children, both boys and girls. They could have been taken from Kouka, Shin, Sei…somewhere else entirely. For the sake of Kai markets, appetites. When Kouka was strong enough, no one would dare do these things, at least to them. But that required an equally strong king, a lasting dynasty, fervent ideals—
Another bucketful scattered his thoughts, draining them from his mind like the rivulets of water that ran down the back of his neck, down the front of his robes. Soo-won shivered.
The splashing ended, the wagon was covered again and started to move. The air inside quickly rose to a smothering, moist warmth, though the smell was a little better. The children shifted and sagged around him, many of them shuddering, moaning…
It went on like that, the motion of the wagon broken only by these 'baths.' It could've been days…weeks… Soo-won didn't know. They weren't given anything to eat and he only drank what little water soaked the rag in his mouth each time they were doused. His robes never really dried and the smell of rotting flesh grew stronger as time went on. The wound at his side throbbed, spiking with pain whenever he was jostled.
When the wagon next stopped, Soo-won braced for the icy water even as he tilted his face skyward so he could catch as much as he could to drink. The air here was frigid, he could feel his breath misting against his cheeks, coiling against the fabric of the hood.
He heard footsteps.
"I'm only taking these two." Soo-won recognized Yeo-jin's voice. "The rest are yours."
A man snorted. "They've been treated roughly. A few of them might be dead."
"You always say that. They're fine. It's just the hiuzu."
Hands grabbed him, hauling him out of the wagon and dumping him onto his knees on the frozen ground. The rope binding Soo-won's ankles to his wrists was cut, though a length of chain still ran between the sets of shackles. He was lifted again and loaded into the back of another wagon, against a stack of wooden crates. But stretching his legs out was a small luxury after spending so much time on his knees. His joints ached and popped as he moved, though he didn't have the strength to do anything more than lie where they'd put him.
Another body was placed next to him. Size-wise it could have been Hak…a soft groan confirmed it. But by the sound of his shallow breaths, the Thunder Beast was out cold. A covering was lashed down over them and then they were moving with the soft clopping sound of horses' hooves.
After a period of time, some number of hours he couldn't track, the sound of the road changed abruptly from dirt to cobblestones. Their pace slowed. A mix of adult voices and various smells drifted into the wagon—firewood, sewers, roasted foods—a market maybe, but it was not so lively as to be daytime. The squeak of the wagon's wheels and the rhythmic clomping of the horses' hooves echoed off walls, buildings. Then the sounds of other people faded away.
The wagon stopped in a silent place. Canvas fluttered. Soo-won was pulled from the cart and set on his feet. His knees immediately buckled but they held him upright as a wave of dizziness had him swaying. When it was over, a hand clutched a fistful of his hair at the back of his neck. By the slenderness of those fingers, he assumed it was Yeo-jin that restrained him, but he wasn't sure. The wind howled nearby; the chilly breeze stung like a spray of ice against his hands and back.
A shoulder bumped his—Hak's, he thought. They were made to walk forward in the mincing steps allowed by the shackles, down a set of steep, stone stairs. His sock-clad feet were numb from the freezing temperatures and disuse; he couldn't feel them at all. He stumbled more than once, kept from falling only by the grip on his hair. Eventually they stopped. Soo-won heard a door open. They entered into a warmer space where the floors were wooden instead of stone. Light seeped beneath the edge of the hood. There was short pause as someone moved to close the door—
Hak burst to life beside him; Soo-won was shoved against a wall. He heard a thud—maybe a well-placed elbow—and a groan. A man hit the floor, cursing. There was loud crack and a muffled, gurgling moan that sounded nasally wrong, like someone's nose had been broken. The person staggered back—
The hand gripping Soo-won's hair tightened. Yeo-jin muttered an expletive and pushed him forward. His ankles were caught by the shackles; he pitched forward, trying to make his limbs go limp to lessen the impact of the fall. The woman staggered off balance, losing her hold on him. Soo-won twisted as best he could, landing on his shoulder. He tried to roll towards the wall on his left—
There was a sharp blow to his wounded side. Pain sliced through his body, snapping what little hold he'd had on consciousness, like so much thread…
-x-
Soo-won woke with a start. He was curled on his right side with his right shoulder and arm completely asleep. There was cool, smooth marble beneath him and the air—which was warm—smelled vaguely of incense. His injured left side throbbed with pain. Undoubtedly the wound was infected, inflamed—
"Not so tough now," a man said. Soo-won heard a blow, followed swiftly by another. Knuckles cracked; there was the sound of someone spitting.
Hak… He had to stop this somehow. Soo-won tried to get up—
"Enough," Yeo-jin said, her footsteps approaching. "He's on his way."
"Pfff." The man retreated.
Soo-won only got as far as his knees. The hood was snatched from his head, a few strands of hair going with it. The sudden invasion of light burned his eyes. For long seconds, Soo-won saw nothing but dancing spots. The gag was cut from his mouth; his jaw ached as he moved it, as he closed his mouth for the first time in days.
"If only you'd died when I shot you," Yeo-jin said, not to him.
As the spots faded, Soo-won could make out Hak beside him. He tensed with anger at the sight. The Thunder Beast was kneeling, his robes darkened with blood and dirt. He had a black eye; blood poured from his nose and mouth. The chains he'd been wrapped with hung loose around his torso. Yeo-jin stood in front of him, holding both hoods and gags. She'd changed at some point, as had the four men who accompanied her. They all wore dark green Kai-style robes with their high collars, though Yeo-jin wore a teal shade. Her hair was uncovered, tight yellow curls gathered at the nape of her neck and spilling past her shoulders. She wore an eye patch over her right eye, as Mi-jung had. As bad as Hak looked, among the four men Soo-won saw an obviously broken nose…a dislocated shoulder…another was limping.
Hak said nothing. He breathed slowly as his blood dripped onto the pale, marble floor.
The room was a receiving chamber of sorts with a high-backed chair sitting on a plush red carpet. Scarlet curtains with gold tassels hung around the room, tied back to display rich tapestries and paintings. Some depicted stunning vistas, others battlefields. Freestanding oil lamps of hammered gold provided light. On the right side of the room, there was a hearth with an incense holder beside a desk and chair of dark, smooth wood on an intricately embroidered carpet. Behind the desk were shelves of tomes bound with gold thread.
Doors opened behind him. Soo-won watched Yeo-jin inhale, take a step back, and bow low. He heard multiple sets of footsteps enter the chamber, though only one set approached, slippers moving softly against the marble floor.
"You may rise, love," a man said, his accent curiously indeterminable.
Yeo-jin straightened, her face soft, her single eye warm with adoration. "Master Geon."
Soo-won deliberately cooled his expression. The Kai prince—or, if Mi-jung had spoken the truth, shadow emperor—walked past Hak and stopped at Yeo-jin's side. His robes were richly appointed in violet silk, trimmed with black and gold. His shoulders were covered with fur—a thick, silvery hide, and a delicate circlet sat upon his brow. His hair was flaxen and cut short except for a tapered beard. Geon reached out with his right hand, a simple band of gold flashing from his middle finger, as he caught Yeo-jin's chin with his index finger, resting his thumb below her lip.
Soo-won only saw the man's profile, but he was caught off-guard by a wave of…familiarity. Though that didn't make any sense. They'd never previously been introduced. Of the emperor's sons he had met at various functions of state, this man had never been there.
"It would seem you had some difficulty?" Geon asked in that same melodic, unaccented voice.
Yeo-jin's forehead creased, her lips pursing. "Some. That one is not to be taken lightly. Even knowing that…"
Geon lifted his thumb to her mouth, stopping her words. He smiled. "Not that, my dear."
The woman's face clouded.
"I asked for dragons and you bring me men?"
Beside him, Hak inhaled sharply. Soo-won's fingers curled behind his back. It came back to him—Seong-ha calling Yona, 'dragon princess.'
"But these are—"
"Yes, I'm familiar with who you've brought me." Geon glanced at them in turn, providing a full glimpse of his face—
Soo-won froze. It can't be. But he didn't forget faces, especially not from that night. The man had no beard then, just the clean-shaven jaw of most young soldiers. His mind's eye replaced royal Kai robes with the simple tunic and breeches of Kin Province, layered beneath the black plated armor all his father's guards had worn… He couldn't breathe. The weight of it crashed heavy on his shoulders, the sound of the ocean—though they were nowhere near—roaring in his ears. You were there that night. It meant Mi-jung was telling the truth and this man's claims were…possible. Soo-won's heartbeat pounded in his throat. Kye-sook had never let him see his father's body, except draped with the burial cloth. Might Geon still have the trophies he claimed he'd taken?
"—Were you followed?" Geon was sitting in the high backed chair now; Soo-won had no idea when the man had moved, nor how much of the conversation he'd missed.
"No, of course not," Yeo-jin said. She was kneeling at his feet. "We took every precaution."
Geon smiled. "As I expected, love." His fingers sifted through strands of tight curls. "Well done. Go, and wait for my word."
"Yes." She bowed her head and then rose quickly, a flush staining her cheeks.
Soo-won heard the door open and close behind them. He felt…numb, detached. Like he was watching a dream he couldn't wake from. None of this felt real anymore.
Geon straightened, his face smoothing. His gaze flicked to the left. "Which route did she take?"
"My lord, she switched boats on Sotsu Island and entered through Toushin Port," a man said from the back of the room. "From there she took the road to Kankei and traded with Kyung-chul."
The Kai prince rested his chin on his knuckles, exhaling. "Take care of it."
"Ah." More footsteps retreated from the room.
"Well." The man's gaze shifted to Soo-won. "My apologies for such ill treatment, Your Majesty. Allow me to correct this presently." He studied both of them for a moment. "Medical care, a bath, a suitable change of clothing… And of course you must be famished." He waved a hand airily. "The house will provide whatever you require." Geon's eyes flicked again to the back of the room. "Please, see our guests situated."
Others came forward, lifting them to their feet and bearing them away.
-x-
Unshackled, Soo-won sat on a wooden stool, his feet in a shallow pan of lukewarm water, as the doctor's assistant slowly peeled his soiled robes from his body. The boy couldn't have been more than twelve years old, dressed in a white Kai robe. Though the child had both eyes and both hands, scars marked his right wrist. He went about his work silently with deadened eyes, matching the way Soo-won felt.
On the opposite side of the dressing screen, Hak received similar treatment. The small room had a blazing hearth which kept it plenty warm. The floor was marble except for a raised area made of smooth wood, upon which bedding was folded. There was a low table with cushions to sit on, no windows, and only one door. The walls were decorated with tapestries and other works of art. Golds, ivories, and pale yellows were the prominent colors.
When the boy loosed the belt from his inner robe and drew it from his shoulders, Soo-won shuddered. He closed his eyes and steeled himself, waiting for the gasps of horror… But the boy made no sounds whatsoever, merely moving about with silent efficiency, stripping Soo-won to the waist. Maybe the child was used to worse. A putrid smell came from his side when the cloth was pulled away; the wound still throbbed from Yeo-jin kicking him earlier. Soo-won glanced down and then wished he hadn't. His skin wasn't supposed to be that color.
The doctor was a thin man with wiry gray hair. He wore a pale blue smock over his tunic and breeches and leaned in from his stool, examining the injury. After a few silent moments, he straightened. "This won't be pleasant. Would you like something for the pain?"
Soo-won shook his head. He'd had enough of being drugged over the last several days.
The doctor shrugged and waved towards a cot. "Lie down."
-x-
Soo-won jerked awake from a dreamless slumber when a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up into Hak's shadowed face. The Thunder Beast's black eye was rapidly darkening, but the rest of the blood had been washed away. He wore a light gray Kai-style robe and smelled fresh and clean. Bandages wrapped both of Hak's wrists.
"There's food," Hak said.
Soo-won could smell that, too. Some kind of hot porridge. He moved carefully to sit up, wincing as he engaged limbs that were stiff and sore all over. He'd been lying on a futon in the raised sleeping area, covered by several blankets. His clothes felt…odd. Soo-won touched the ivory Kai-style robe someone had dressed him in. His hair was freshly washed—even still a little damp. Pushing the blankets back, he found his wrists and ankles bandaged and he could feel the wrappings that crossed his chest beneath the robe. Soo-won's feet weren't numb anymore. He was wearing fresh socks and breeches and there were slippers set out beside the bed.
I was out that long?
"You want help getting up?"
He shook his head.
The Thunder Beast nodded and moved away. Soo-won watched him sit on a cushion at the low table, where a tea set and several covered dishes waited.
He got up slowly, mindful of the weakness of his body. Ironically, the feeling was familiar. He used to neglect to eat for weeks at a time. Soo-won made his way down to the table and sat across from Hak.
The Thunder Beast poured tea for both of them and tried it. Soo-won caught a whiff of the fragrant, floral brew, making him long for home while Hak scrunched nose in distaste. "What is this?"
"This is tea from Kouka." Soo-won sipped and exhaled softly, savoring the pleasant flavor of the tea. "Grown by Geun-tae Shogun's wife."
Hak's face clouded. He drained his cup and poured water instead.
Soo-won lifted the lid of the covered dish in front of him. Steam rose from a small bowl of savory porridge. By habit he paused and a lump formed in his throat. Gyoku and Mua had always insisted on tasting everything for him. He swallowed hard as he quietly set the lid aside. "My guards and Joo-doh Shogun. Were they…?"
The Thunder Beast lifted his own bowl, sniffing its contents. "They were alive when we got to them. I left them in good hands."
Soo-won felt a surge of relief. Wanting them to live, wishing them well, hoping… It wasn't the first time he'd worried about someone else, but he usually didn't feel it. It didn't affect him, maybe because he was used to seeing people for what use they were to him, rather than who they were. Somehow, this time was different. They didn't deserve what happened to them. Not for his sake.
Hak dipped a spoon into the bowl and tasted a small bite. "It won't kill you," he said and ate more.
Soo-won nodded and picked up his spoon. The porridge was bland, but it went down easy. For several moments, they ate in silence.
"That was him, I take it," Hak said eventually. "The emperor's son. You've met before?"
Soo-won lowered his half-eaten portion, staring into his bowl. "I didn't realize it until now." He set the bowl down and sighed. "After the attack that killed Queen Iseul, my father wasn't sure who to trust."
"Because members of the Sky Tribe army were involved."
"Yes." Soo-won pursed his lips. "He hired additional guards. A few from the army. Others from Kin Province. That man was one of them. Under a different name, of course. I never knew he was one of the emperor's sons." He took up his teacup and sipped, tension gathering in his shoulders. "He was there. I remember. So to claim that he disfigured my father's body? It's…plausible."
"They wouldn't have said something?" Hak asked quietly.
Soo-won slowly shook his head. "Why? When the whole incident was swept aside and called an accident?"
The Thunder Beast said nothing else.
He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling. "On the ship, you came to rescue me—"
Hak snorted. "Still working on that, obviously."
Soo-won dipped his head, lowering his voice. "Why did you bother?" The last time we spoke… The image of Hak tearing from him and walking away burned behind his eyelids. "You should've left me to die."
Hak's breath came out roughly. "The thought did cross my mind, if that makes you feel better."
I'm glad you haven't changed that much, old friend. He smiled a little and sipped to cover it. You're still the Hak I've always known.
A long moment passed before Hak spoke again, softly. "I can't forgive you. I won't. But it's not like I wanted this. If I hadn't left you alone…"
Soo-won's smile faded, emotion welling hot and tight in his throat. He looked away. "Don't, Hak."
He felt the Thunder Beast's piercing gaze. "Why? Because it hurts you to think about what you did to the people who cared about you?"
Soo-won exhaled carefully. "I knew what it would cost me to do what I did."
"Did you?" Hak's voice was icy. "Il loved you and you loved him. Maybe your father was jealous when he took the throne. Maybe they did have a reason to fight. But you loved your uncle."
Old pain ran down both sides of his spine. "You're right. I loved him. So I couldn't forgive him for what he did. He betrayed me. I didn't want to, but I still had to—"
"Had to." Venom laced Hak's voice. "As if revenge isn't a choice and one she makes every time she lets you live."
His hands tightened around his teacup. "You weren't there, Hak. You didn't see—"
Hak pushed back from the table and stood. "I get it now. Why you looked like the world was ending after what Mi-jung told you."
Soo-won flinched, not looking up.
"You can't be wrong. Not about the one thing you've made the center of your existence. Then what do you have left?"
He stiffened. "Hak—"
The Thunder Beast walked away, back towards the sleeping area. "Rest up if you can. When I say we're leaving, we're leaving."
Soo-won squeezed his eyes shut, listening to the sound of Hak shuffling blankets and lying down. You're right. Warmth gathered behind his eyelids. He ached inside, raw pains from old wounds, picturing in his mind's eye the uncle he'd cherished as a child. I can't— He clutched his hands together in his lap, trying to stop the shaking.
-x-
Hours later, the doctors returned. Attending Soo-won was different man than last time—this one was thicker set with trimmed, dark brown hair, but the same boy assisted.
Soo-won's wrist and ankle bandages were changed. He sat on the stool again with the robe loose over his breeches as the doctor examined the wound on his side. The man didn't say anything but made a soft noise of approval before wrapping his chest again.
The door opened, admitting a girl with arms laden with folded clothing. Soo-won glimpsed no less than six guards outside. Hak was on the other side of the dressing screen, but he knew the Thunder Beast was watching, gauging, planning…
The girl, who wore a Kai robe in sky blue, bowed. "Your clothing." She placed a stack beside him, then moved to the opposite side of the dressing screen.
Soo-won went cold, staring at the fine crimson silk that topped the pile he'd been given. "That isn't mine," he said, his voice coming out hoarse.
The girl came back, frowning. She picked up the garment, its folds tumbling free. It was floor-length with wide sleeves, trimmed in black. "But it's Kouka style, isn't it? Master Geon said…"
"What's wrong?" Hak asked, rounding the screen. He was already dressed in his clean clothes, just shrugging into his outer robe. He stopped abruptly when he saw what the girl held, his eyes wide. "That robe—" Hak's face darkened.
Was King Il's. Dread churned in the pit of Soo-won's stomach. That robe, here… Before he could even complete the thought, a dozen guards filed into the room—men with swords, fully armored.
The guard at the head of the gathering didn't bother to wear a patch over his missing right eye. The expression on his face was pure derision. "The two of you will come with us."
Hak finished donning his outer robe. He said nothing, but Soo-won knew what he was thinking.
If only I had a sword… He envied the Thunder Beast's prowess unarmed, as he had many times growing up. Soo-won sealed his robe and stood, stepping into his slippers. He took a moment to smooth his hair. "Well, I believe we're ready."
The guard rolled his single eye skyward and turned. At the tilt of his head, another guard came forward, snatching the red robe from the girl's hands. A muffled shriek came from her mouth as she backed away.
Soo-won exited the room first, surrounded by the guards. The corridor had low ceilings; it was lit by candlelight. A plush rug of amber hues ran down the center of the floor which was made of the same pale marble. Six of the guards formed a phalanx around him and six around Hak, behind him. But there were others in the halls, pairs guarding each set of doors. Still no windows. Soo-won wondered how far underground they were. They needed to find the stairs.
The head guard took a right at a branching corridor. Soo-won followed, but after a beat realized fewer footsteps were behind him. They were taking Hak a different way, separating them. He stopped. "Hak—"
As the guards closed in, blocking his path, he heard the first thud.
"Don't try it, Thunder Beast—" a man said in a gruff voice. Steel shrieked from sheaths.
In the main corridor, Soo-won glimpsed one guard on the floor, Hak at the center of a circle of bared swords with fists ready, eyes hard—
A chain looped around Soo-won's throat from behind. He gasped, flailing, trying to strike his attacker. But he was hauled off his feet and backwards. He couldn't breathe. His hands flew to his throat, desperately trying to loosen the chain—
"Soo-won!" Hak tried to push towards him, but guards glutted the corridor between them.
Soo-won's vision swam with spots of light and dark. He was carried through a nearby door into a brightly lit room and dumped on the floor. The chain fell away; the door closed behind him. With uneven breaths, he raked in gobs of air, on his hands and knees on slick marble. The room smelled like blood. When his vision cleared, he saw a body wrapped in black cloth being lifted from the floor by two guards. Bits of teal fabric and blond curls protruded from the shroud as it was carried away.
"I trust you had a pleasant day, Your Majesty," Geon said from one side of the room.
He was in the antechamber where he'd first seen the man. The Kai prince, dressed in a black robe, was standing at the desk with his back to the room, sipping from a clay cup as he studied weapons laid upon its surface. Soo-won went rigid seeing his father's blade under the man's fingers, Hak's glaive beside. There was no further noise from the corridor outside. Hak… Soo-won touched his throat gently, breathing slowly and carefully.
Three guards stood right behind him. He started to get up, only to stop as a blade tapped his shoulder. Soo-won sank back to his knees, glancing aside and catching his reflection in the bared sword that rested just inches from the left side of his neck. "You must be running out of subordinates," he said, letting his voice go cold.
"A valid concern, it's true. But nothing is achieved without sacrifice." Geon turned, sweeping Soo-won with his gaze. "You didn't appreciate my gift." A guard stepped forward, handing him the red robe.
Soo-won lowered his hands. "Why do you have that?"
The Kai prince settled into the chair at the head of the room, draping the robe over one arm of the chair. A small table stood beside the chair, bearing a tray with a pitcher. A girl in dark gray robes moved in soundlessly and lifted the decanter, refreshing the cup Geon held with an amber colored liquid. She bowed and backed away as he drank. "A souvenir. King Il left it behind when he ran for a doctor." The Kai prince looked off into the distance, a bemused expression on his face. "To think that we would end up meeting again like this, Master Soo-won."
His jaw tightened at the cold familiarity of being thusly addressed. "Where's Hak?"
Geon drank from his cup. "Not to worry. The two of you will be reunited quite soon. I simply felt the need to indulge in a bit of nostalgia. To unwind. The pressures of running a kingdom." He shook his head. "You understand."
No. Yeo-jin's blood streaked the marble floor in front of him. "I don't care for your methods. You maim your own—"
"You find it cruel?" Geon shrugged. "But control is important and I've found little else to be more effective." He paused, raising the cup. The girl ran forward and poured again. "Kouka has become quite troublesome as of late. I have you to thank for that. I much preferred your predecessor." The man smiled. "Though I didn't always. There was a time when your father and mine could have come to an agreement. After all, your father had taken a Kai bride and rid the Empire of a particularly troublesome vassal who had held sway over Kin Province."
Soo-won's breath caught and ran waveringly from his lips. My mother…?
Geon's smile broadened, amusement flickering in his eyes. He swirled his drink. "The Empire would've gladly helped your father claim the throne of Kouka for, shall we say, minor concessions. But the attempt on King Il's life failed, the queen died instead… And your father burned with guilt for having been involved."
Cold spread through his chest. No, it couldn't be true. His father would never have— Soo-won rose off his knees, but a guard grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down.
"I'm sure you'll never forget that night." Geon looked away, sipping. "To think of all the months I spent carefully planning your father's demise only to have his life handed to me by, of all people, your king. His own brother; your uncle." The Kai prince leaned to the side, propping his elbow on the arm of the chair and resting his chin on his knuckles. "I've never seen a man so inept with a blade. As if your father would've succumbed from such an ill-armed strike."
Soo-won's eyes widened, his nails biting into his palms. Dizziness swept through him. My father…would've lived…if you hadn't—
Geon hummed lightly. "Infection might have taken him eventually. Regardless." The man lifted his shoulders. "Your cowardly king, paralyzed by guilt for what he thought he did, was the ideal patsy to have on the Kouka throne. A perfect arrangement ruined." He sighed wistfully, setting the cup down and tracing its rim with the tip of one finger. "It's interesting. You might lack your father's strength, but you surpass him in other ways. In the end, he couldn't muster the will to take what he wanted. His conscience stopped him. Whereas you…" Geon paused, tapping a fingernail against the side of the cup. "Were circumstances different, we might get along quite well, you and I."
Horror surged through Soo-won's veins. His breath came out in a rush as a shudder tore through him. "We are nothing alike."
The Kai prince smiled. "Tell me, Master Soo-won, are you haunted by what you've done? Does your uncle's soul plague you at night while you sleep? Don't worry. It might take a few years, but the nightmares will stop."
Soo-won went numb. He forgot how to breathe—
Geon tipped back the remaining contents of his cup and straightened in the chair. He gestured to a guard. "You must have scars from the fire."
Soo-won's robe was grabbed from behind, torn open. A tremor ran through him as the air hit his bare back.
The Kai prince set his cup aside and stood, approaching.
A hand shoved the back of his head, spilling him onto the floor. The gilded hair clasp that had belonged to his mother went flying, clanging as it tumbled. Soo-won caught himself before his face hit the blood-splattered marble, watching the clasp roll away. His fingers scraped against the streaked floor.
Geon's slippered feet stopped beside him; he felt the man's studious gaze. "You shouldn't have lived through that. I guess you're the lucky one."
Soo-won flinched away, rising to his knees, clutching the tattered remains of the robe. "What is it that you want? For years, you've—" His head spun. Nadai. Trafficking. His father. These shadowed moves…
Geon hummed with amusement and bent down. His hand slid against the side of Soo-won's face, making him look up into glittering blue eyes. "I would have been content, dear king, to take your kingdom apart one piece at a time." They were close enough that he could smell the liquor on the Kai prince's breath. "But now my goal is much higher, much loftier. And all I have to do is wait." Those dry, papery fingertips whispered across his skin and lifted away as Geon moved backwards.
Soo-won inhaled, a chill churning in his stomach. "What is it you're waiting for?"
The Kai prince turned, flicking a wrist. "Take him above. With the other one."
Dread propelled him to his feet, his knuckles cramping as he gripped the robe. Arms grabbed him from behind. "What is it—?" The cold chain wrapped his neck once more, strangling his words. The guards dragged him from the room as the Kai prince settled again in the gilded chair, lifting his cup and letting the girl pour.
-x-
The dungeon was above ground; a small, square structure of stone and frigid air with a heavy, barred door. Thin windows, cut horizontally through thick walls, looked out over an empty courtyard blanketed in snow. It was nighttime, but the glow of the city lights was enough to illuminate snowflakes slowing drifting down to the earth from dark gray skies. In the distance, lanterns hung against the ornate, golden rail of a bridge set amidst delicate, snow-laden trees. Tenchou Palace lay somewhere beyond that bridge, hidden from view by trees and the fall of snow. He'd seen drawings many times.
Soo-won watched the idyllic scene, standing still as the guards fastened a steel shackle around his throat, chaining him to the wall. He no longer had the will to fight. He was vaguely aware of passing Hak in another cell before he was placed here. The Thunder Beast even said something to him, but Soo-won didn't hear it. The cell he was given was in the corner of the structure, with two walls of stone and two walls of iron bars. There was a straw pallet and a chamber pot; no blankets or other furnishings. A stove well beyond the bars of his cell in the center of the room provided the only heat and light. The air was chilly, particularly down the back of the torn robe he wore.
When the guards retreated from the cell, closing and locking him inside, Soo-won stayed where he was. His hair spilled like a loose curtain about his face and shoulders; he made no move to push it aside. Except for the sound of the guards' retreating footfalls, the place was quiet. He continued to stare out at the falling snow.
Mi-jung had called the emperor's son a liar, a betrayer. So he shouldn't simply believe it all. …And maybe not all of it was true, but small things Geon had said resonated in his heart, with his memories. Soo-won closed his eyes. His father had changed gradually in the months after Il had taken the throne. At first, it was only the occasional confused or pained look in response to something King Il had done. His father would sigh and make dismissive statements about the mistakes of a new king. But the first time Il failed to quell a small rebellion, refusing to use force and offering concessions instead, Yu-hon's mood changed… Soo-won wrapped his arms around himself, his wounded side pulsing with pain. From then on, his father grew frustrated and angry, taking him aside often to explain over and over all that Il was doing wrong. Not calling out the army, standing idly by while the five tribes splintered apart, letting land and resources slip from Kouka's fingers. In those days, his mother had quietly kept her distance. Soo-won hadn't understood at the time—what the strain in her lovely eyes meant. She held him tightly and wordlessly, whenever she could.
Things changed abruptly after the queen died. It happened in winter; Soo-won remembered it snowed at Hiryuu Castle that year. Like night and day, his father seemed like a different person. He brought Soo-won to Kuuto often, promising to protect his brother and the kingdom. Yu-hon threw himself into the fortification and improvement of life in Kin Province. Some days, Soo-won even found his father out working in the fields, harvesting wheat alongside the villagers. His father and mother embraced often; he loved seeing his mother smile. Despite the pain of losing his aunt, Soo-won remembered those times as warm, peaceful days. With his heart full, he'd been able to comfort Yona, to dry her tears.
…But there were also moments that marred the sweetness of those months. Things that had confused him; that hadn't made sense to him as a child. Soo-won blinked slowly, his memories blending with the snowy darkness beyond his cell. There were nights when he glimpsed his father drinking alone, staring at nothing for sleepless hours. Times when his father abruptly withdrew from happy moments, as if he couldn't bear to be a part of them. Until now, Soo-won always thought his father was mourning the death of the queen. But the truth reflected back at him, as if from a mirror into his own soul. It rang hollow and painful in his heart. Why didn't I understand then what I was seeing in your eyes? That haunted look was more than sorrow, it was…regret. It was guilt.
Why didn't you tell me, before I— He lifted hands that were streaked with crimson. It wasn't King Il's blood, but it might as well have been.
The shaking started from somewhere deep inside, building from a shiver until the chain rattled continually. Soo-won dropped to his knees on the cold stone floor, unable to stay upright. His robe slipped off one shoulder, trembling strands of his hair fell in his eyes. With these very hands, he'd taken his uncle's life. He'd silenced forever someone he'd loved, wounded his dearest friends… Things he couldn't take back, things that could never be undone. We're more alike than I realized, Father. His breaths came in short, jagged bursts, the cell running liquid before his eyes, blurs of red and white against the darkness. Soo-won curled forward, clutching fistfuls of hair as the shudders wracked his frame. What have I done?
