Notes.
Cannons, arquebuses and muskets did exist in the Joseon era, during which gunpowder had already been developed.
Answer to Itsrainingtacos :
I can't find the right words to express to you how thankful and grateful I am for the reviews you're keep on leaving on this story, but know that I'm always so happy to read your reactions and your ideas and to know what you liked in the chapters ! And you're absolutely welcome for the answers, I'm again very sorry that the FF interface doesn't allow direct interactions like on AO3. You're very right about Dong Soo, it's indeed quite a harship to carry on his duty as a captain while knowing Woon is a gwishin and that he's killing his "kind". For the bathroom scene : yes I did, I'm so sorry, Dong Soo went all shy XD ! But I hope the scene in the bedroom and with the things Dong Soo kept made it better :P (so happy you like them, I really loved writing them and I had them planned since a long time) ! I'm so glad you thought the coming back of Dong Soo's parent and Woon's father were interesting (as you could see, they're not very kind on their sons...at all XD). For the theory about Woon's mom, I can't tell you anything right now, but know that you shall have an answer very soon ;). Haha, yes, Chun's back too (like the Backstreet Boys - oh dear me, that was a lame reference, I should have gone for the Terminator), and he's definitely a gwishin (and we'll see him in the next chapters, oh definitely) ! Thank you again from the bottom of my heart for your endless support, it means the world, and I sincerely hope that you will enjoy this arc's ending (two more chapters and then it'll be done) !
CHAPTER LXXI
" Besides, wars are always necessary; if there had not been any since the beginning of the world, the earth today would be so populated that men would devour each other."
(Hans Christian Andersen, " The Great-Grandfather")
a. Baptism of fire
Nam-Kin climbed the stone steps leading to the top of Hanyang southern rampart, and as he set foot on top of the walls, he glanced down, catching a glimpse of the shrunken silhouettes of the buildings used to check the status of those entering the capital, and the even smaller forms of the visitors who were waiting outside, huddled together, almost tightly pressed against each other.
A dreadful cold had descended upon the country in the past few days, and every morning was accompanied by a coat of white frost covering the mud and the roofs of the houses, but which invariably dissolved as the day wore on and the passages and activities of men came to abrogate its pale harmony. Nam-Kin had been sent to a spot on the wall just a few steps from the main Namdaemun gates, and he could see the large pagoda that had been built above them, its spiky roof, the green and ochre reflections under its tiles, the very colors of the monarchy.
There, several other soldiers were stationed in observation, contemplating the landscape in the distance and scrutinizing the slightest movement, the slightest rustling of foliage, as well as archers and supplies to arm the cannons that lined the ten miles or so of the capital's walls, but also artillery reinforcements, among which was a load of hwacha considered sufficient enough to slow down the intrusion of enemy troops into the city walls for several hours, allowing the government to gain time and prepare a counteroffensive.
Over the past ten years, the devices had multiplied and had been adapted to the new adversaries that the gwishins represented. Although they had never attempted collective actions or attacks against any of the country's cities, several of them, and more specifically the largest and best equipped in terms of defense, had organized themselves with the military forces to prepare a response capable of keeping the dead at bay as well as the living.
Investments had been made in flaming swords, in more modern and faster crossbows, but also in additional arquebuses and muskets, the latter having until then been reserved primarily for the most prestigious ranks of the army and for some specific categories of population. Pitch had become very much in demand as a defense material, for while it had not yet been able to demonstrate its effectiveness, it was nevertheless believed that pouring it burning on the gwishins would be as good a way to defeat them as flaming arrows and torches thrown over the ramparts.
As Nam-Ki was heading towards the commander of the guards of the southern rampart, he was overtaken by soldiers running in line to the gates and the pagoda, but also by others travelling in the opposite direction, some carrying arrows, others jochongs. The wind that followed them was icy. The tip of Nam-Kin's nose kept chafing him. He passed a group of men checking the cannons carefully, and read the agitation on their faces, the desire to run away.
Like them, he had heard the rumors early in the morning, and like them, the prospect of thousands of gwishins charging at Hanyang filled him with nameless terror. He had spent the night with the gisaengs in one of the capital's most renowned establishments. It was the first full evening he had been able to afford after years of service in the army, for he had so far only been able to get in through invitations to banquets by other of his comrades with higher pay and rank, but they had never been very numerous, and Nam-Kin had mostly been confined to gazing at the courtesans from afar, separated from them by the social chasm.
He could have gone to less expensive houses, but he had not developed as much taste for the girls of these institutions as for those of the Spring House. There was a rich, unctuous, effortless charm about them that made you feel like the most important man in the world in their company. They gave the illusion of love and seduction like none of the other gisaengs in the city, and Nam-Kin, while knowing it perfectly well, was as vulnerable to their spell as an newborn.
He had already heard some soldiers despise them, calling them witches, demonic sorceresses with the secret of a false and harmful love, only meant to make men lose their fortunes and hopes. If Nam-Kin did not wish to give credence to such allegations, he recognized however that the attraction of the courtesans of the Spring house took on an aspect of black magic, but about which he did not complain, for he did not perceive any of the disadvantages cited by his comrades, or was too well aware to be outraged by them out of smugness and naivety.
Commander Sun was blowing his nose in a cloth when Nam-Kin reached him. He was a very short man, with broad shoulders and standing with his back straight, as if to gain more height. His face, scratched by a childhood illness, was not handsome, but he had a formidable look of determination, and his fighting skills had been praised by all the men who had been under his leadership. He was not Nam-Kin's direct superior, since he was primarily in charge of the soldiers assigned to the ramparts and the surveillance of the walls, not those who were sent to check the status of the incomers to the capital. But it was by his order that Nam-Kin had come.
Usually he was led by Captain Choi, who was in charge of all the military personnel whose job it was to control the admissions to the city and to make sure that any gwishin who had the bad idea to try their luck were spotted and arrested. Commander Sun, however, was much higher up the hierarchy than the captain, and besides, the messenger who had woken him up this morning in the arms of the gisaeng with whom he had slept, had been formal : Sun demanded that all men who had been assigned the task of census and inspection of visitors leave their posts immediately and join him at the southern rampart, near the Namdaemun gates.
The scouts stationed in observation posts upstream from the capital had seen unidentified troops approaching, which were massive enough to pose a threat. After two successive wars against Japan and then the Manchus, each of them devastating, followed by the appearance of the gwishins, the country had developed emergency and recalibration procedures for military units that were now automatic and perfectly assimilated by the soldiers of the different branches of the army. In case of a possible attack on the capital, the order was for the least necessary posts to come and help defend the ramparts. The order came from Sun as well as from the government. There was nothing to discuss or question.
Nam-Kin had heard about what had happened at the barracks in a brief and incomplete way, mainly because he had not found enough time to learn more. Most of his knowledge was summarized in the occurrence of an alleged attack on the barracks and the soldiers inside, with significant losses and several wounded. The origin of the attack was not yet precisely known, but the words "Bogeyman" and "gwishins" had reached Nam-Kin's ears. Brigades had been launched throughout the city, to flush out and eliminate the supposedly hidden dead who were thought to be responsible for the disaster. He hoped in spite of himself that Commander Sun would agree to tell him more.
The latter was watching the horizon, keeping his eyes fixed on a spot to the south, straight ahead. Nam-Kin, waiting for him to speak, followed his gaze. There rose several columns of blackish smoke, thick, in coarse wisps, and as he squinted his eyes, Nam-Kin distinguished a sort of shape advancing towards them, getting closer with every heartbeat.
"Do you see them?" Commander Sun asked him. "They'll be here in an hour, maybe two if we're lucky."
He hadn't moved. Nam-Kin offered a respectful and succinct confirmation. Below, beyond the gates, the road that snaked southward and was daily frequented by travelers and traders was now trodden by a cohort of soldiers urging people to get inside the city walls, with great arm gestures and loud voices.
Others were busy digging trenches, laying out hwachas and sharpened stakes. These men would be the first barrier against which the approaching troops would crash. Positioned outside the city, they would handle the rockets, set fire to the stakes placed in the trenches, and repel the invasion as best they could until it decimated them, thus opening the way to the city walls.
"The smoke you see is from the observation posts," the commander told him somberly. "They're probably burning. We haven't seen a single scout since the first warnings were given. In my opinion, they're all dead. Those who were able to reach the city are the last survivors."
"Were they able to tell who the troops belonged to?" Nam-Kin nervously asked, without taking his eyes off the mass that was growing as it descended the road to the capital, in a silence and peacefulness infinitely more gloomy than if all these potential enemies had started to scream and run towards them.
It was the uncertainty that caused the anguish, apprehension and terror. Once the nature of the threat would be confirmed, the protocol would be initiated, reassuring as well as absorbing with its strict and repetitive steps in the midst of the chaos, but until then, there was still doubt, questions, fear.
Commander Sun laughed disdainfully, but without any real malice.
"You bet. They left long before they could see the enemy's face. Otherwise, they would have been burned with the others. But as it is, it's not hard to guess. Why don't you take a closer look?"
Nam-Kin complied.
"I don't see anything in particular," he admitted.
"Your eyesight must be worse than mine. Or maybe you need a higher position. You will go up to the top floor of the pagoda before taking up your post. You'll see it then."
"See what?"
"The white," the commander asserted. "These troops are white from head to toe. Tell me, which of our enemies would use such a visible color in battle?"
"The dead," Nam-Kin answered without hesitation, as a shiver of anguish ran down his spine and caused a spasm in his fingers (white is the color of the dead). "So it is indeed the gwishins who are encircling the city."
"From the south, the east and the north. No movement has yet been spotted to the west and on the sea side. According to the scouts, it seems they're more numerous from the south. If they are indeed coming for a confrontation, most of it will take place here."
"Didn't they communicate their intentions?"
"Either they have remained totally silent and wish to keep us worrying in order to better crush us, or the government has received a messenger but has kept the real reason of their coming secret. But I doubt the second possibility. They must know that coming in such numbers is clearly unfavorable to them, and unless they are looking for conflict, I don't see what would cause them to show up en masse, all of a sudden, choking all the exits of the city."
"Don't you think they might want to pressure us into negotiation?"
"By threatening us with their numbers? No, soldier, I don't think so. I would like to, but it would seem very surprising to me, given the way we have treated them since their appearance, that they would choose the option of peace and dialogue. Anyway, when in doubt, it's better to be prepared for the worst."
Nam-Kin stood silent after this observation, shivering from the ambient cold, the running of the men along the ramparts, the preparation of the defensive weapons and the blank expression of Commander Sun, properly indecipherable.
"You come from the checkpoints of the southern doors, is that right?" The latter resumed, deigning to tear himself away from the contemplation of the surrounding landscape and the approaching shadow to grant him a glance. "Your name?"
"Moon Nam-Kin, commander," he answered while bowing. "I'm indeed assigned to check the status of Hanyang's visitors."
"Did the messenger tell you in detail about the situation before telling you to join me?"
"No, commander. He didn't have time. He had to hurry to warn the other soldiers, and he prioritized this mission above all else. But I understood the main issue, and I'm ready to do my duty."
The commander nodded slowly and smiled at him. It was the first time Nam-Kin had seen such a resigned and sympathetic smile, and the way the commander gave it to him, even though he had never met him before and did not know him, made him feel a strong devotion and respect for him.
"That's good," the commander said. "Since you are used to these doors, you will stay here. I already sent enough of your comrades to the other gates. Are you a good archer?"
"Quite good, yes," he replied, keeping to himself the fact that he had never particularly excelled at it, but could hit enemies quite effectively at short distances.
"So I want you to go and get a bow and arrow. You'll find them inside the pagoda, and if needed, we're preparing a stockpile downstairs in the guard shacks. They're already coated with fuel, but in case, the men are placing pots of it under the torches on the ramparts. Should you run out of fuel, you'll have something to fall back on."
"Thank you, Commander."
"What about firearms? Have you ever used an arquebus? A musket? Or even fired a cannon?"
This time Nam-Kin could not hide the panic-stricken confusion that appeared on his face before he could say a word. He had been given the opportunity to try his hand at all of the mechanisms deployed by the kingdom's artillery during his training, but the instruction on this point had been far more meager than for the traditional weapons that were the sword and the bow.
"Well, I..."
"If you don't know, there's no shame in admitting it. You're a low-class soldier, aren't you? If you are, you've probably barely had a chance to touch these things. Don't feel bad about it. As of this morning, I have about fifty guys like you joining my troops. My men know how to handle these weapons. Take advantage of the time left to learn with them. You will still take an arquebus with you, and you will go to the first cannon emplacement where you will see one or two men at the most. So far, I have sent more soldiers to the left side, so you will follow the rampart to the right and stay there unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Commander."
"Go, then. Don't waste time."
Nam-Kin was obeying his orders when a messenger rushed toward Commander Sun, blocking his path and forcing him to stop. He handed the commander a short note, which caused his forehead to crease before he threw him a stern look.
"What's that? he grumbled. First the barracks, then the troops, and now this? Could it be that whoever wrote drank too much soju, by any chance?"
"The fact was reported by fishermen in Incheon later yesterday, and was then confirmed by the military and city officers who went to see it for themselves. The message was passed on to Hanyang during the night, and was received by the king this morning. The War Ministry sent this letter. There are speculations that it could be the reason for the massive displacement of the gwishins to this place."
"But a entire island? In one night? It's impossible," the commander argued, clutching the note convulsively between his fingers and shredding the delicate paper.
"They say it's surrounded by mist," the messenger continued. "An entirely white and incredibly dense mist. Attempts have been made to dock, but none of the ships that braved the fog has returned. And that's not at all. There's also been some trouble at the camp of the army of the dead. Apparently, it has been taken over by the gwishins, and they are currently marching on Hanyang."
The commander sighed heavily, wearily. He seemed to realize that Nam-Kin was still there, and ordered him to go to the pagoda, without adding anything else about the message or its content. Nam-kin did not ask any questions, although curiosity had now overcome his fear and nervousness. Time did not allow it. He walked towards the pagoda, feeling his stomach knotting, his insides liquefying.
As he entered the building, where soldiers were bustling around, collecting weapons and armored protections, boiled leather, brigandines and helmets, Nam-Kin allowed himself to look outside as advised by Commander Sun, because he was now higher up. His new position enabled him to see much farther, and more clearly, and then appeared more distinctly the whitish halo which came with the outline of the troops facing them.
Nam-Kin thought back to the gwishin he had kicked one night, to the one he had seen much later, about to suffer the wrath of other soldiers. Despite the large number of gwishin coming towards them, they did not seem to make any of the sounds usually produced by large crowds, and by battalions about to besiege a city, carrying with them weapons, horses, heavy and secure defensive tools.
That's because they don't have any, he realized with growing horror, they don't have any because they don't need them, they're dead, there are so many of them, they're going to come and invade us and oh by the gods, death is coming to Hanyang, it's coming and it doesn't make a sound.
b. Parti Pris
The woman, Ji-Seon, kept her word and held the soldiers as far away from the storeroom as she could for the duration of their inspection inside the small store. They did approach the room at one point, asking her what was in it, and the other woman who had accompanied them inside, whom the first had referred to as "Jin-Ju," then instructed them to back away to another door in the back of the storeroom, which she had warned them opened onto the outer courtyard and the street.
A few moments earlier, she had turned the key in the lock of the door, believing it was an efficient way to gain enough time to leave the place and take refuge outside, behind the wall of another house or at the corner of a small alley, staying close enough to be able to return to the store after the withdrawal of the soldiers but also far enough away to avoid being spotted by them.
In the end, they did not try to check the contents of the storeroom, partly because the shopkeeper managed to divert their attention with questions about the parallel events taking place both within the walls of the capital and beyond. Mago had listened anxiously to the men's footsteps on the store floor, their powerful, authoritative but tense voices. They had come to the front door of the storeroom, standing there while talking with Ji-Seon, and had finally decided that further exploration was not worth the effort.
"That's because you're so tiny," Jin-Ju remarked later to her companion. "No one suspects you of being able to do anything dishonest."
She had smiled and shook her head at this statement. She had acted in a remarkably similar way to Yeo Woon when Baek Dong Soo, during the time he and Mago had spent in his home, would attempt a joke or a gentle mockery.
The soldiers had remained in the store for only a few moments, talking with the owner about the reason for their presence, but also, afterwards, about the situation outside. When they had returned to the main room, Mago had not been able to hear their conversation, but she had managed to catch a few bits and pieces of it, which indicated that the army was searching for them.
They also mentioned that the entire Hanyang military was overwhelmed by another issue that seemed to cause them more concern, and the mention of which brought an incongruous crack to the voice of the brigade captain who was speaking. Once their departure was confirmed and after having made sure of their definitive withdrawal, the woman had come to knock at the door of the storeroom, behind which her partner was waiting.
Shortly before the soldiers had entered the store, she had armed herself with a long sword which she had clenched in her fist with determination, and she had half released the blade from its sheath when the voices of the men had grown more audible, indicating that they were coming towards the room. Be ready, she had whispered, before putting a long finger on her lips to incite them to silence. The maneuver had been somewhat superfluous, in the sense that Mago, her master and their new companion had become mute from the moment they had entered the storeroom, but nevertheless understandable.
When she had opened the door on the other woman, she had first asked her in an urgent tone if she was all right, and if the soldiers had not mistreated her. The storekeeper had reassured her gently, saying that they had been courteous and not overly intrusive compared to other soldiers they had encountered, especially when the reinforced repressive measures had been put in place at the end of 1777.
She had proceeded afterwards to inform them of what she had been able to learn during her exchange with the brigade captain, as they were all carefully extirpating themselves from the storeroom, particularly attentive to noises and bursts of voices from outside that might have alerted them of a return of the soldiers.
"He confirmed to me the troop movements all around Hanyang, as well as the suspicions that they were all gwishins," she reported to them, looking at her companion and at Yeo Woon. He looked very worried. "The city gates have been closed, and any exit or entry is strictly forbidden."
Mago met her master's gaze, discerning in it a concern similar to her own, while Jae-Bum's face showed signs of impatience and satisfaction, the origin of which was obviously the validation of his earlier words about the imminent arrival of reinforcements for the gwishins.
"So we can't leave the city?"
The news was singularly dichotomous, as it implied both their confinement within the capital city walls, at the mercy of the soldiers who were chasing them, and the imminent possibility of a final liberation and protection by the battalions of gwishins surrounding Hanyang, provided that the latter managed to overcome the living ramparts and break through their counterattack and then rush inside the walls.
"No," the woman said in a tone of voice that Mago perceived as genuinely sorry. "All the entrances are condemned, and the ramparts and the main gates are at this very moment occupied by almost all the armed forces of the capital, who are preparing the defense of the city during the time they have left. The palace is sending out criers and messengers to warn all the inhabitants of Hanyang about the risk of a siege, and to order them to barricade their homes and prepare themselves. It also seems that the army is going around the houses looking for eligible men to join its ranks."
"But almost all the eligible men are already serving in the army," Jin-Ju protested. "By now, the population of Joseon consists of more soldiers than peasants, and most of them, as well as the most experienced ones, are in Hanyang. Why recruit again?"
"For the simplest reason," Jae- bum answered. "Because the opposing forces are considerably more numerous."
His statement was followed by a heavy silence, filled with fear and alarming implications.
They moved back into the central room of the store, and the owner continued her account of the military's visit, answering Jin-Ju's questions at the same time. Outside, the agitation seemed to have given way to a real ebullition, and Mago could now hear the distinctive sounds of footsteps running in the adjacent street, exclamations, some shouting too, in an anguished tone. The panicked and disorderly nature of the events beyond the walls of the shop tended to corroborate the indications that the militia captain had given to Ji-Seon.
Just as they had reached the counter where the shopkeeper was standing when Mago and her companions had entered the store, they were taken completely by surprise by the entrance of an elderly man with a beautiful gray beard that looked like sheep's wool, who wore no army attributes but instead was dressed in common, unadorned clothing of ordinary colors, the sight of which helped to alleviate some of the confusion caused by his unexpected arrival and forced everyone to lower the swords they had raised almost without thinking in front of them, for lack of a real shield.
The newcomer apologized for his interruption, then came to meet the owner, whose hands he eagerly grasped, and to whom he described the supposedly imminent approach of the gwishin troops, adding that the latter were, according to very recent allegations which he claimed to have heard as he was passing by a group of soldiers on their way to the southern ramparts, supported by the army of the dead, which they had presumably taken control of from the camp where it had been entrenched.
He made no comment about Mago, her master or Jae-Bum. He simply offered Ji-Seon and her companion to come to his house for protection, as he considered it dangerous for them to stay at the store alone, and he declared that he would be "honored to be able to protect them in gratitude for their services and long-time business collaboration". According to him, the residents of the capital, warned all over the city of the possible attack of the dead, were gathering with their families and relatives in order to defend themselves together and, in case the city was lost, to die with each other.
During his conversation with the storekeeper and her companion, Yeo Woon kept silent, and stared at the wooden floor of the room. Mago found his contemplation unusual, and was about to come to him, when she saw a twinge of pain appear on his face, and the flow of her own reasoning was unexpectedly broken by a wild and distraught litany (please don't do that please don't do that please please please help).
She immediately came to him, convinced that he was suffering from his burns, while noting that Jae-Bum also seemed disturbed by a similar manifestation.
"Is everything all right, master?" she asked him. "Are your wounds painful?"
She suggested to change his bandages, and to apply some herbal ointments on them this time. She had spotted an obviously extensive collection of bottles and cases on a shelf in the storeroom of the two women's store, which most certainly contained extracts of some of the medicinal herbs that the Herbalist gifted to the gwishins who had endured his dreadful concoction, and which were able to provide some relief from pain, even if they were hardly as effective as blood, both of the living and of animals.
Yeo Woon shook his head, however, refusing the proposal.
"No," he replied. "It wasn't that. I just felt like..."
He paused, not finishing his sentence. Mago saw him raise a hand and then bring it to his forehead, as if the pain had been located between the walls of his skull.
She wanted to know more, and to enjoin him to explain himself, but her request was abrogated by the owner of the store who had just finished her discussion with the man who had entered a few moments earlier, and was approaching them, hands joined at the level of her stomach. The man was talking with the second woman, in a hurried way, while regularly pointing his finger outside.
"Mr. Lim is one of our most loyal suppliers," she told them with a reassuring smile. "He assured me that if you need it, he will welcome you as well in his house."
"He said that because he doesn't know we're gwishins," Mago replied somberly, looking sideways at the man.
Ji-Seon nodded in response, granting her the argument.
"Are you planning to go to his house to take shelter?" Yeo Woon asked her, and it was the first time he was addressing her since she had sent them into the storeroom.
"Most likely. If anything happens, we would probably be safer with other people than if we decided to act on our own. Jin-Ju and I have not confirmed anything yet. We wanted to know what you were planning to do before we gave our answer, and try to help you as much as possible to ensure your safety."
"I see."
Mago noted the deference with which her master spoke to the woman, the way he stared directly at her and then looked away to a different point, usually on the ground. He showed an immense politeness and modesty in his interactions with her that Mago had never seen him display with anyone else, including Baek Dong Soo.
Although his master's relationship with the latter had sometimes been tinged with great restraint, especially during the day they had met at the city gates and afterwards, during the first days of their cohabitation, his reserve had always been paired with a kind of fervor and affection that betrayed Yeo Woon's inclination for his comrade, and an obvious desire for closeness.
Some traces of these elements could be found in his exchanges with Ji-Seon, but Mago nonetheless had the impression of a much more stilted and distant attachment, of which both parties were aware but deliberately ignored and even potentially despised, which had never been the case with Baek Dong Soo, where the reciprocity could easily be guessed despite the apparent sobriety of some of their interactions.
The woman asked Yeo Woon if he and his companions had indeed planned to leave Hanyang to escape the military patrols. He confirmed it, and asked her about a possible discreet passage of which she could have been aware, allowing them to flee without arousing the attention of the soldiers, in order to join the gwisin troops who were marching on the city.
"Alas, no," she said. "Neither I nor Jin-Ju know if there is any way out of Hanyang other than through the main canals, and these are unfortunately highly guarded right now by the army. The only option that seems to me to be the safest at the moment would be for you to come with us to Mr. Lim's house, at least until the situation evolves and clears the access to the gates, one way or another."
(if the living win or die)
"That's a risky move," Jae-Bum admitted. "I imagine we'll be surrounded by the living if we accept, and if our condition is revealed, I'm afraid the others won't show us nearly as much kindness as you did, especially given the threat our kind now poses to the city."
The owner's very fine and delicate face expressed her understanding of the concerns raised by the gwishin.
"Don't you have any contacts in Hanyang that could possibly welcome you and allow you to be safe from the brigades?" she inquired softly.
Mago thought of the maps unfolded before her eyes, of the inelegant smell of animal skins drying against a wall. The initiative had been her master's in the first place, after all.
"We do," she stated, insinuating herself into the conversation. "There might be someone. A gwishin, like us. She lives a few blocks from here, with her father."
"That's not a good idea either," Yeo Woon remarked.
"Why not?"
"Because of this," Jae- bum replied, pointing to the cloth that was covering Mago's white hair, which was a piece of uniform torn from a soldier they had killed while escaping from the royal palace when they had just arrived at the gates. "We're totally exposed now. The news has spread."
"That's what the captain was suggesting before he left," the woman said. "He advised me to be very careful, and to only open my door to people with their heads uncovered, or to require those wearing hats to remove them while remaining outside the store. When I asked him the reason for these requirements, he told me he had received reports that the gwishins' hair had apparently turned completely white overnight."
"These aren't rumors," Yeo Woon said.
"If reports have already reached brigade captains, it's a safe bet that most of the army is already aware of the phenomenon," Jae-Bum informed them. "The hunt for the gwishins will most certainly resume in the city, and in a much more extreme way. It's not impossible that it has already been deployed."
Mago argued that the risk was minimal because of the approach of the army of the dead and the priority of such a danger in the eyes of the living, thus overriding the active search for gwishins inside the city. Jae-Bum however reminded her that the prospect of a siege of Hanyang had not prevented militias from going after them once they had escaped.
Following the instructions of Yeo Woon, who had said he had used it years before, they had gone to the corpse gate, also called Shigamun, whose major advantage was to be one of the least well-guarded in the royal palace, and therefore the one most likely to enable them to escape without causing a commotion. Mago, in thought only, had found the passage of the dead through the door of the dead a good subject for mockery, but she had carefully refrained from saying so as she was pressing herself against the walls of the buildings like her companions, and keeping her eyes open in case a soldier were to appear at the corner of two buildings and find them in such a highly suspicious posture, all the more so since they had put on military uniforms and there was nothing to justify such a stealthy attitude in the first place.
They had met no one in their travels, and discovered the gates surrounded by barely six sleepy-looking guards, who had defended themselves feebly and whom they had killed one after the other, taking advantage of the surprise effect reinforced by the initial confidence the men had placed in the military uniforms when they had seen them walking in their direction, and their half-dazed state after having spent the whole night keeping watch over the gates.
One of them had tried to run away, but Mago had caught him and plunged her sword into his back. It was at this moment that she had noticed, in the distance, a small group of soldiers. They had seen her too, standing in front of the inert body of one of their comrades, and they had come running, pulling out their own swords, shouting for her to stay where she was, to stop, but she had rushed to join her companions and dragged them through the gates, towards the streets of the capital.
The shouts of the soldiers' voices had probably alerted others, who had also started to chase them. At first they had run, and it was only when they had reached the more populated streets of Hanyang that they had slowed down and started walking fast, so as not to catch the eye of a living or another soldier while those who were pursuing them struggled to identify them in the compact crowd that cluttered the street, and made their way through it with difficulty.
At first, they had wanted to continue in a straight line to the southern gates of the capital, but another brigade, probably also aware of their escape, had appeared at the end of the street, forcing them to take refuge inside the first shop they had found in order to avoid running into them.
Mago insisted on going to Na-Young's father's shop, playing on the purely hypothetical aspect of the immediate resumption of gwishin hunting in the capital, and the lack of other alternatives available to them. After a brief negotiation, Yeo Woon finally agreed to go, first to see the state of the store, and to gauge according to what they would see if a contact with Na-Young and his father could be considered.
Jae-Bum complied with his decision, as he had done every other previous time, and Mago was amazed at this allegiance, the origin of which she could not locate since the man had never seemed to have met Yeo Woon before, as evidenced by the fact that he introduced himself to both Mago and her master back in prison. In addition, she had a vivid memory of what he had said to him while they were walking up the steps of the prison stairs (can't you bring this one back), and the innuendo brought by his question had aroused in her powerful suspicions, but also, although more tenuous, a form of hope that had taken on the aspect of one of the prophecies stated by the Preacher (the dead will bring back the dead).
The owner of the shop, witnessing their decision-making, chose to accompany them, arguing that she could serve as a guarantee and use her living status to allow them to arrive safely at their destination.
"I'm coming with you," her companion said when she was taken in their confidences after the departure of their supplier, to whom she had let know that she and her partner greatly appreciated his help and would come to join him a little later, on the pretext that they had to shelter their stock as much as possible before leaving the shop. "There's no way you're going alone."
"Jin-Ju-ah, I'm sure everything will be fine. And if it wasn't the case, it would be safer if only one of us was arrested, so that the shop could keep on functioning."
"If you're arrested, I wouldn't be able to make this whole thing work on my own," Jin-Ju protested firmly. "Anyway, the soldiers will eventually come to interrogate me as well, since they would find it very likely that I was your accomplice, and they would be right. And you know I can fight. I'm coming."
She allowed no further discussion afterwards, and was adamant in the face of her companion's arguments, who ultimately gave in. Both women offered them before leaving to change their clothes, as they had had invested in such area for less than a year, and they went to open in the storeroom two vast and imposing black metal chests where had been stored some jackets, pants, dresses, hats, shoes, all of them belonging to a various range of age, and which had probably yielded them a significant income.
They let them choose freely among items suitable for the winter season, lent them mirrors to check that their white hair was indeed made invisible under the fur-lined hats, and when Yeo Woon, once his uniform was exchanged for less conspicuous clothes, bowed very low in front of them to thank them, Mago saw Ji-Seon put a hand on his arm, and smile at him softly.
Na-Young and her father's house was not that far from their shop, and after receiving confirmation from Jin-Ju that no soldiers were in the street, they went out one after another, the manager exiting the shop last to turn the key in the door. The street was sadly deserted, abandoned to the army by everyday passers-by. It looked like the whole town had emptied out all at once. The owner's companion was dressed in trousers and a tunic under her thick fleece-lined jacket, like the gwishins, and Ji-Seon was therefore the only one to wear a chima under her long night blue durumagi.
While trying not to appear in too much of a hurry, they nevertheless moved forward at a rapid pace, glancing around. Mago heard Ji-Seon ask Yeo Woon what circumstances had caused them to be chased by soldiers, and he told her about their imprisonment, their capture at the northern gates, and finally mentioned Baek Dong Soo.
"You were with Dong Soo?" The other woman wondered immediately. "So he knows you came back?"
"Yes," Mago's master confirmed to her. "Since the beginning. Mago and I have been living with him since November, but he has known about it for four years. We met again in Hanyang in 1777, when I was staying with a gwishin acquaintance. It only lasted a few months. I left town at the beginning of the summer of the same year."
"Wait a minute," Jin-Ju said, frowning and giving him a suddenly defiant look. "Dong Soo seemed to be doing a lot better at some point, without any explanation. I was having lunch with him at the time. He told me about a gisaeng. It was you?"
Yeo Woon simply nodded in response, whereupon Jin-Ju fell into a silence in which she seemed to digest the information, while Ji-Seon was inquiring about Baek Dong Soo's situation.
"He was taken to the barracks for questioning," Yeo Woon replied. "I haven't heard from him since then."
"To the barracks?"
The own of the shop had repeated the name of the place with a tinge of concern in her voice, and her reaction aroused the alarms of Mago's master.
"Yes. Why?"
"Jin-Ju and I have heard things," the woman said slowly. "The barracks were said to have suffered an attack. Several buildings were reportedly damaged, and soldiers were killed, as well as several injured."
"What?"
Yeo Woon suddenly stood still in the street, ignoring their previous desire to hurry towards Na-Young's house, and his eyes filled with despair. Oh, not now, Mago panicked, easily guessing the course of action he was about to turn to. Her second worry was for Seung-Min.
"The Bogeyman is said to be responsible," Jin-Ju added while staring at Mago's master cautiously, gauging his response. "But nothing has been confirmed yet and we don't know...hey, where are you going?"
She hadn't been able to say more, as Yeo Woon had turned on his heels and started walking in the opposite direction, the one he and his companions had come through before, which led towards the palace, towards the prison, but especially towards the barracks and, as he was probably thinking, towards Baek Dong Soo.
Mago blocked his way, stepping in front of him and spreading her arms to prevent him from passing. She knew she was too small to make any difference, and she was sure he was going to pass her anyway, but she managed to stop him for a moment, and that was all she needed.
"You can't go now, master. If the barracks have been attacked, it must be crawling with soldiers. You're heading for disaster. Wait for the reinforcements."
Yeo Woon barely glanced at her, and the brief glimpse she got of his eyes contained disdain, anger and urgency all at once. As she had expected, he walked around her and passed her.
"I don't have time for this," he asserted coldly. "I'll go get him. If he's hurt or if he's..."
He stopped in mid-sentence, pursed his lips, or rather bit them, and Mago noticed that his gaze was clouded with panic.
"I'll go get him," he repeated.
This time, it was Jin-Ju who stood in his way, raising a hand in front of her to stop him.
"Let me go to the barracks," she said. "I'm a living, and I'm his friend, so I won't have any trouble to get to him. I'll find out what happened and try to see him. If I can, meet me at the shop at the start of osi. I'll do my best. And if I'm not there at the appointed time, you can go as much as you want, with or without reinforcements in case the other gwishins haven't entered the capital yet."
Yeo Woon didn't say a word to validate the woman's suggestion, but he stood still, and Mago saw him bend down his head. Jin-Ju, no doubt analyzing his silence and immobilization as approval, told them to be careful, especially Ji-Seon, then began to run in the opposite direction, her sword still in hand. They watched her move away gradually, with long strides, before the owner invited them to resume their journey in a soft voice. Yeo Woon stayed silent the rest of the trip, brooding over his worries.
As they were approaching their destination, they came across the body of a man lying on the ground, whom Mago recognized, from his thinness, his clothing, and the almost absence of hair on his skull, as the Preacher, whose sermons she had listened to a few weeks earlier, while visiting Na-Young as well for the first time. The man was not moving. His eyes were glassy, his mouth parted, as if he had screamed before collapsing. His arms, brought up close to his chest, were raising hands with horribly clenched fingers.
He's dead, Jae-Bum noticed after kneeling beside him and placing a hand on the back of his neck. Mago thought he looked terrified. They started walking again, finally seeing the front of Na-Young's father's house. They saw him, as they came closer, kneeling in front of his door, his eyes bathed in tears. Mago rushed over to him.
"What is it?" She urged him. "What happened? Is Na-Young here?"
The others surrounded them, their facial features arranged in distressed expressions. Ji-Seon lowered down to face the old man, like Mago had done. The latter gazed at them with empty, absent eyes.
"My daughter," he said after what seemed like a long moment of horrified silence. "They came, they saw she had white hair. They took my little girl, and they killed her. They cut off her head and then they burned her. They burned my little girl. They burned her right there in front of me, and there was nothing I could do, I did nothing!"
(they burned my little girl)
Na-Young's father began to sob. Ji-Seon put an arm around his shoulders, and Mago, with terrified shock, realized that she couldn't find the strength to stand up or even to say something. It seemed to her that there was an impossibility, a contradiction, an aberration, the logic of which refused to engrave itself in her mind.
Na-Young can't be dead, she thought, realizing the stupidity of her own thinking, since she was already dead, it doesn't make any sense. A drop of water came crashing down on the fabric of her pants, leaving a round, dark stain. But she hadn't done anything wrong. Mago understood she had started to cry.
She looked up at her master, and then she saw, as distinctly as if he had told her verbally, that he had felt the thing happening, that his passing pain in the shop had been linked to it, as well as the pleading she had heard in her head. Na-Young was dead, and the gwishins had felt her die.
She heard a noise on her left, a sort of pileup, a tumult of iron and footsteps. A voice arose, thunderous, insulting.
"Don't move! Get up slowly, without abrupt movements, and take off your hats so we can see your hair!"
Oh, everything was perfect in the procession of soldiers in front of them, from their well-adjusted uniforms to their swords, and their faces oozing hatred and monsters. Mago's fingers went to stroke the hilt of her sword, circling it languidly (the price of blood).
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yeo Woon doing the same. In the distance rang out the roaring of cannons, the echoes of the beginning of the battle, like the quivers Mago had heard in the dark, those which had come with the flowers.