5th Daehan 1794
The wind blew softly, brushing daintily over the pristine snowscape. It barely shook the barren branches of the trees as it wandered under and over. There were no bird calls, no croaks, nor the shrills of crickets for none could stay or wander in such cold. All was silent. A series of echos rang faintly in the air as the wind travelled on and flowed into a clearing. Snow flew in the air as two figures whirled, their clothing as white as the surroundings. The sound of thwacking wood resounded again and again as the two struck their staffs against each other. Other than that, there was no other sound except the heavy puffing of breath that bloomed in white clouds. Back and forth they went until one of the figures upended the other in a close manuever.
"Ooommphh!" he fell on the ground with barely a thud for the snow cushioned his fall. His opponent grinned and stood panting just as heavily. "That is unfair, aboji," P'ado groaned, certain that he had wrenched his neck. "You said you will not use any tricks."
"I made no promsies, didn't I? I only said I would try." Yunbok extended a hand which P'ado took. "You did well."
"Next time I will make sure you promise." P'ado wriggled his shoulders and brushed away the snow that stuck to his back, removing his pungcha and shaking it to get rid of the snow. "My neck was nearly broken."
"Complaints, complaints. If you're so afraid of falling, bring a stack of beddings next time. I'll make sure to tip you gently onto them."
Yunbok went over to the tree where they had left their jige and snowshoes, putting on his own. P'ado helped to steady the jige as Yunbok heaved it on before he turned to help him with his own. Their load of wood was not as much as they would get in the past years. They had to exercise care in the number of trees they cut down for this current season. An extremely dry year.
"I'm sure omoni will have plenty to say about that," P'ado grinned as he followed Yunbok. "Ajoshi will think of something "wonderful" for me to do too."
At that, Yunbok could not help but chuckled as he led the way down the trail.
"Brrr, it's very cold," P'ado continued, for some of the snow had slipped under his quilted jacket and melted. "Aboji, do you think the drought will end next year?"
"We have a cold winter this year. Thick heavy snow. Good signs." Yunbok waved at their surroundings. "Unlike the previous years where there was hardly any. The drought should end." Would they have a bountiful harvest next year? Would he be around to see it?
That would be good. P'ado thought over the lean times of the past years. There was so little grain to be had. With no rain, they had to rely heavily on the river. Much effort had gone into the transportation of water. As the drought wore on for a second and a third year, the water level dropped considerably. There was just an extremely low trickle running along the creek, rendering paper processing even more difficult. Nowadays, water had to be rationed and used carefully. If aboji was right, they need only wait another few more months and there would be at least barley to eat. He hoped. And with the spring, his face lit up at that thought.
"Aboji, when will you hold the ceremony?" he asked eagerly. "They tested me with the rock. I managed to lift and throw it. My friends have been asking when they will be invited to the party."
"Spring." Yunbok kept the tremor out of his voice. "This is what, the tenth time you have been asking about it. Are you in a hurry?"
"Ah, well, no ...," P'ado trailed off. "I guess I'm just excited about it. Aboji, surely you were too."
He wondered if he should even mentioned it as he remembered belatedly that Yunbok was disowned by his family for causing kenaboji's death. He was not told how, only that it had happened. It was the reason why they had no contact with haraboji. Would not the family forgive aboji? It was an accident.
"I know," Yunbok sighed, comprehending his feelings.
To be considered an adult, to have new responsibilities, a different standing in the eyes of others. Nothing would be as it was. Was it time? Should he wait? The capping ceremony need not necessarily be done at sixteen. It was up to the family's discretion to decide if the boy merit such an honour. It could even be held at age twenty but usually if a betrothal had been arranged, the boy would be formally passed into adulthood at sixteen. There was no such arrangement for P'ado. He could hold off the event if he wanted to but that would sorely disappoint the boy. Too, he had a promise to fulfill. A promise he could not break. P'ado's next words made him even more uneasy.
"You did say you have something to tell me about abonim. I have been wondering what it is," P'ado said wistfully.
"Yes, I did," Yunbok muttered as P'ado looked at his back in puzzlement at that apprehensive tone.
What was aboji worried over? Was there something bad about abonim? He recalled the time when he was told about his father's death. Yes, that year when aboji and omoni had gone away without him. Aboji had spoken of him with much admiration for his bravery. His regret for his inability to bring him back home to acknowledge his son. How he had cried then but he understood such things could not be helped. He had made sure to pay reverence on ancestor days, trying his best to study diligently and live up to what his father would have expected of him. Why was aboji so apprehensive now? Did he deliberately not tell him some unpleasant facts about abonim?
He opened his mouth to query and stopped. Was it wise to ask about it? What if he did not like what he would learn? What would he do if abonim turned out to be a criminal? Was it better not to know? A criminal. His heart seemed to drop at that thought. Perhaps he was thinking too negatively. It might not even be that at all. Thoughts whirled in his head as they turned down a well-trodden path and followed it to the creek. A few workers from the paper mill were chipping away at the ice at the banks to get the water beneath. They called out when they saw them which they returned. They off loaded the wood they had gathered at the woodyard and set to breaking the logs into smaller pieces and stacking them up.
To wait or not to wait? Yes, no, yes, no. The axe seemed to chant with every stroke Yunbok gave as he split the logs. If he tell him now, how was he begin? How much should he say? Everything? All at once? Or a little by little? It was decided years ago, the promise made at Hak-sun's grave. Now that the moment was upon him, he found himself at a lost. So preoccupied was he in his dilemma that he did not realise someone was calling him until his jacket was tugged. Startled, he looked to the side.
"Aboji." Pokkot looked at him in puzzlement and trepidation as she proffered a bowl of patjuk. What was he thinking of? There was a such fierce forbidding look on his face that she had been afraid of disturbing him but the bowl of patjuk would grow cold if she waited so she had plucked up her courage. She peered at him anxiously but he did not seem angry any more.
"Where is mine?" P'ado looked over from the wood stack as Yunbok accepted the bowl. "Give it here, I'm hungry."
"When are you never hungry?" She stuck a tongue out at P'ado cheekily but brought him his bowl. He gave her a mock growl as he put his face down to her but she batted him lightly on the forehead in return.
"That is rude, how can you treat oppa like that?" He held the bowl high to prevent it from slopping over as he tried to catch hold of her but anticipating his reaction, she skipped away out of range, made a face at him, grabbed the soban on the ground and quickly vanished. Grinning, he sipped at the bowl of patjuk and glanced at Yunbok curiously for he seemed not to have noticed the byplay. He just stood there, deep in thought as he drank his soup. "Aboji, is something wrong?"
A hail interrupted what Yunbok was about to say. They looked towards the source. A familiar figure waved to them from the midst of a small group entering the wood yard.
"What have we here?" Young-joon stamped up to them as the rest of the group continued on to the workyard, his grin flashing white from a tan face. "Patjuk! Where's my share?" he looked around hopefully, pulling at the jige he was carrying. He was a sight to behold, almost as rustic as they though not as thin.
"You're as bad as P'ado, always thinking of that stomach of yours." Yunbok shook his head ruefully.
"That's because we're one of a kind." Young-joon looped an arm around P'ado's shoulders. "Our minds need a constant flow of sumptuous meals to keep working, failing which, we are but simpletons."
"Aigoo, ajoshi, speak for yourself!" P'ado made a warding gesture as he finished his patjuk.
"I take that back, he's eating to fill out his shoes." Young-joon laughed as he shook P'ado who protested that the soup would spill. "He's going to be a fairly tall fellow!"
"True that." Yunbok smiled as he looked at the both of them, standing head to head. Before the end of the next year, he was sure P'ado would grow by another hand. He would have Hak-sun's build that was certain. "Since you're that hungry, let's go up to the house and see what else there is in the pot." He put down the axe he had been holding all the while and held out his hand for P'ado's bowl. "I'll be back later."
"Yes, aboji. Bring back a snack too," P'ado grinned as he handed over his empty bowl, knowing full well there were no treats available but made that statement out of habit.
As they rounded the corner, Young-joon glanced at Yunbok. There was an air of disturbance hanging over his friend. He wondered what was it he wanted to discuss with him. Come to think of it, he looked sad too. Apprehension rose within. What was the dire news?
"Brother Han, I would ask a favor," Yunbok said as they walked into the workyard. "In fact, more than one," he stopped as Young-joon put down the load of mulberry branches beside the workers stripping away the bark of another pile that had been unloaded. "Come to the house."
At the house, he handed over the empty bowls to Jeong-hyang in the kitchen who promptly dished up another for Young-joon when she saw him. Despite his demur, she insisted he take it. It tasted slightly bitter but he drank it gratefully. There was nothing like hot soup on a cold winter day. After he was done, Yunbok led the way to the back room instead of inviting him to sit at the daecheong. It only made him more anxious.
"What is it?" he said softly once the door was closed and they had sat down.
"The time has come for me to tell P'ado about his birth father," Yunbok stated simply.
"Now?" Shock held Young-joon immobile. "I thought you intended to tell him at his coming of age ceremony in spring?"
"That's just it, I don't think it is a good idea. To tell him of his birth father will also require my telling him who I am." Yunbok heaved a sigh. And what I am but he did not say it aloud.
"Do you have to? Why not just say his father died doing his duty," Young-joon rubbed his hands on his thighs nervously as he thought of possible repercussions. "I don't know what he would think or react if he knew his father died trying to protect Jeong-hyang from a foreign spy. What his father had done before. That may not cause any impact. But surely .," he stopped uncertainly.
"No." Yunbok shook his head. "Hak-sun left him a letter. I do not know what is in it but I think it is best I tell him everything. That brings me to the favors I would ask of you. I would like to borrow a few horses from you. Secondly, would you hold the ceremony for him if I am not here."
"That's..," Young-joon stared at Yunbok. Horses? If he was not there? "No, no." He grabbed hold of is friend's arm. "No, no, it won't turn out that way. No ..."
"Brother Han, I cannot predict how it will go. Therefore, I must make preparations," Yunbok said sombrely.
"Why now? Wait till spring, hold the ceremony yourself, you should see him take his place. Then, you tell him everything," Young-joon urged.
Yunbok did not think he had any choice. He had spent many days trying to plan what he could do. "That was my initial thought but if the worst should happen, should his passions rage out of control, I must hamper his desire to leave. Winter travel is difficult, especially with the current crisis. He will be stymied. Master Park should be able to delay him and calm him down."
"I do not think it is a good idea." Young-joon toned down the bite in his voice for he did not think his friend's decision was a good one. "He will just pick up and go once spring arrives."
"True but it will give us time to do what we must."
"You will abandon him? Do you .," Young-joon said in bewilderment.
"No, we are not abandoning him but there is Pokkot to consider. The only safe place for her is with Dong-min so we will bring her there. Whatever it is he would do, whatever trouble he might stir up, we will be here to face it. Although I am sure he will hold me accountable, I cannot predict his reaction. When that time comes, brother Han, you must repudiate us." That would not sit well with Young-joon. Yunbok smiled sadly as red suffused his friend's face.
"No, I will not. I will not!" Young-joon said furiously. "What kind of friend am I to turn away to save my own skin?"
"There is your family, brother Han," Yunbok reminded gently. "You have to do so thus, because then, will you be able to help us take care of Pokkot."
Despair filled Young-joon as he clasped his hands to his head. He had forgotten about his own family. Would they be implicated too? He never quite understood what political trouble his friend was involved in years ago and had never asked. Did not dare to ask because he feared what he would learn. He only knew that if Yunbok's whereabouts was discovered, his friend would be hauled up to Hanseong. From his father's past comments, veiled as they were, it was not Jeongjo who was seeking Yunbok. Rather the King sought to protect his friend. The one who was looking for Yunbok was the Queen Dowager Jeong-sun. With his friend caught up between those two, no good would come out of it. Heads would roll.
"I am sorry, brother Han, to have brought you into such troubles," Yunbok said sadly as his friend continued to look vex. At that, Young-joon's face cleared.
"I don't regret knowing you, nor our friendship," Young-joon said firmly.
"Then, you must do as I asked," Yunbok said softly.
"Did it not occur to you that P'ado might not do what you fear?" Young-joon wondered if his friend had considered it. The boy loved his foster parents, he was sure of it. He would not do anything to bring harm to the people who raised him.
"I know but it is best to be ready for the worst. My measures might not even be needed," Yunbok said optimistically. Deep down, he hoped it was so but did not dare to hold on too tightly to it.
"When will you tell him?" Young-joon tried to think what preparations he should make of his own.
"Once master Park returns from this trip of his, which should be any day now."
"This is the wrong time for him to make a trip, isn't it? Peak season for paper making as it is. I know you said he has business." Young-joon wondered what was Yunbok keeping back.
"I am not sure, he only said he has to talk to an old friend. He does not tell me everything." Yunbok shook his head wryly for government matters were none of his concern.
"Then ..," Young-joon paused, turning over a thought. "I will like to be here when you tell him. To provide support. Who knows he would not come talk to me? That way, I can try to discern what he is thinking."
"If that is what you wish." Yunbok nodded though he did not think it would make any difference. However, since Young-joon evidently thought otherwise, he could not see why he could not humor his wishes to ease his anxieties. "I have better get back to the chores."
"Brother Seo." Young-joon reached out to give Yunbok's shoulder an encouraging shake as they got up. "Take heart. It will not be as bad as you fear."
"I sincerely hope so." Yunbok smiled as they exited the back room.
Since his task at the paper mill was done, Young-joon made his way to Suk-kwon's house to clean up and change his clothes. As he untied his horse from the fence of the vegetable patch, the conversation whirled continuously in his head. He waved to Yunbok and called out to the others as he trotted down the path to the village. There was something he could not quite understand about his friend's concerns. He tried to put himself in P'ado's place. How would he react if he learned how his father died?
Shock, certainly. Would he be angry that he had died in such a way? To protect the people who raised his son? The situation was beyond their control, it was the spy who was the cause of his death. There was no reason to be angry with the foster parents. It was the spy who was responsible for the death of Pokkot's mother. Why should the boy be angered?
Next, his friend's identity. He did not see why it should concern P'ado very much. If he were apprised of the dangers, all the more he should be prudent and silent on the subject. He had known the boy since he was a babe and seen him grown up. There was nothing to show a wild contradictory character. Studious in his studies, sensible in his behaviour and cognition. Of course there was that prankish side of him but that was to be expected for a youth his age. Once he was capped, there would be less of that mischief. He would not do anything that would endanger the people who raised him. Of that, Young-joon was absolutely sure. Why was his friend so worried and feared the worst?
Was it that letter the birth father left behind? The contents unknown. P'ado's father was formerly a soldier, then a farmer cum undercover assassin. Assassin. Hak-sun was not even working for the King. Thus his killings were politically motivated, directed by unknown hands in Hanseong. Unscrupulous. How to deal with such a unplatable fact? The boy would be cut to the quick. How often had he spoken of his father with pride and respect? It would all be torn to shreds. He shook his head. No good would come from knowing this.
Hak-sun's secret job as an assassin connoted a whole new set of viables. What were his connections? Who were his superiors? Who did they work for? Who did they work for. His heart froze at that. How could he have fogotten? That incident with Kyoung-mi and the painting. His hands tightened on the reins. An impulse rose to turn back at once to the paper mill and to tell Yunbok to destroy that letter. He paused. No, his friend would have thought of it. If he had not destroy it initially, it was unlikely he would do so now at his exhortation.
Calm, he told himself. He would need to discuss it with his father. His friend was too honorable. If it were him, he would not keep the letter. However, his friend's sentiments was also understandable. Someone had died on their behalf, even if his last wish proved detrimental to themselves, it would be shameful to forsake it.
Brother Seo, may the heavens grant you their grace, he muttered a prayer under his breath. Come what may I will do everything I can to help. I will not let you fall.