Chapter Text
“The Joseon dynasty supported Ming China under the diplomatic principle of sadae (“serving the great”) but this did not mean the relations between the Ming and Joseon had stabilized. … Taejo’s declaration that the conquest of Liaodong was wrong [when he turned back from Wihwa Island] deprived Joseon the cause to make the assertion that Liaodong was Korean territory. This became a shackle for Taejo, and he was unable to actively lead any conquest of Liaodong. However, when [the Ming] threatened and killed envoys and oppressed Joseon because of a letter...Taejo became enraged. Taking advantage of this situation, [court officials] encouraged Yi Seong-gye to plan for the invasion of Liaodong...and even used a ‘book of prophecy’ to strengthen their argument" (Lee 2016).
lost | (August, 1396)
“Joseon is hemmed in by mountains and blocked by the sea, it has been fashioned by heaven and earth to be the land of the eastern Yi people where customs are different. If I bestow the official seals and mandates and order these here envoys be vassals, then in the eyes of the ghost and spirits would I not be being exceedingly avaricious?"
-- response from the Hongwu Emperor to Taejo on the issue of Joseon's request for the return of their national mandates,
The Veritable Records of King Taejo, vol. 9 (March 1396)
Against all reason, Seon-ho had decided he hated this forest.
He hated its quiet gloom, and the stifling muggy heat of the late summer weather. He hated how you could only see a few paces ahead, and how the rough trail they had been following all morning, to track around a washed-out section of their route, seemed to loop the wrong direction more often than the correct one. He hated climbing up muddy slopes, and coaxing his horse back down. He hated the region's history-- both his and Hwi’s here, and the general sweep of it. He hated feeling lost .
Cities were better. The crowding of a busy mid-day street, the quiet exchanges that held edges sharper than any blade in the courtyards of the royal palace, the sunbrushed dust of a records archive mingling with the faint scent of candles and lamps as he worked around the clock on some issue of malefesance with a tax roll or family register. The feeling of pulling answers out of paper or people, smoothing broken pacts into something orderly. These were the areas Seon-ho felt most comfortable, most at-home in his own skin.
He emphatically did not enjoy riding into the wilderness and into the teeth of storms, lurking bandits, and barely-maintained roads, but he was only a sixth-rank official in the Inspector General’s Office, and he went where ordered. Today, that meant riding though Liaodong, a region of wild forests, ridges, and secluded valleys that were tenuously claimed by both Joseon and Ming. Since taking it upon himself to seat the royal throne in Gaegyeong and then Hanyang, Yi Seong-gye had sent numerous envoys professing flowery wishes of goodwill and prosperity west to the Ming court, and they had sent nearly as many in return, until one would think the roads between Hanyang and the Ming capital in Yingtian would be beaten as level as a pancake.
It might have been more effective to pave the ways with all those missives rather than send them back and forth, for all the good they seem to have done, Seon-ho thought. Despite protestations that the Liaodong Peninsula was a calm, prosperous land now, some eight years after Yi Seong-gye had turned his back on it, their party had met with very little that would count as “settled,” except for the Ming messenger relay stations, and the first few of these they had stopped at were so poorly managed they seemed to be near-collapse. The few Ming soldiers they had met were aloof and inattentive, and seemed far more surprised by their arrival than they should have been.
All of that suggested a perfunctory attention to official duty and care, which was feeding Seon-ho's irritation. As they had ridden west, they had stopped outside the waystations occasionally, and Seon-ho spoke with the calm, expressionless older women or men who ran the food shops and offered their horses fodder. They were brittlely polite and invariably curious about the novelty that were five finely dressed and equipped Joseon envoys riding west, as had been the woman Seon-ho had spoken with that morning. Just like the other commoners, she had reacted with poorly concealed fear when he had shifted to asking even the mildest of questions. It curdled Seon-ho's stomach-- he thought he knew how such omnipresent terror took root. That was not how civilized places were supposed to work, whether Joseon or Ming, and it made him want to find someone to yell at.
“Here,” Seon-ho said shortly as Sung-rok rode up next to him, handing over a wrapped basket. “If you have more room in that bottomless pit of a stomach of yours.”
“How much did you overpay for day-old dumplings this time?” replied Sung-rok evenly, and accepted the bundle. “I hope they’re at least edible; that last stop was like chewing leather and horse droppings.”
Seon-ho looked over, let his eyebrows raise in a pointedly disbelieving tilt. “Yet you always eat them anyway,” he observed.
“Old campaigner rule,” said Sung-rok. “Never turn down an available meal, especially if it’s free. Whereas you seem to like wasting your money on things you’re not even going to eat.”
“I’m not purchasing the food.” Seon-ho looked levelly at Sung-rok. As you very well know, he thought, and watched Sung-rok’s lips twitch slightly, amused.
Sung-rok tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Did we have an assignment I missed out on? Did a warrant fall out of a tree and strike you across the head when we climbed that last ridge?”
“If you want to joke about my head, use yours.” That was sharper than Seon-ho would have been with another official, or even a junior in the Inspectors Office, but he and Sung-rok had worked together for years and he saw it focus Sung-rok as Seon-ho knew it would. “It makes no sense to send a court Inspector to Ming to ‘help the emperor.’ The Hongwu Emperor has his own officials, he doesn’t need more meritorious scholars from Joseon; he wants an apology.” Seon-ho continued. “Our ‘assignment’ makes no sense. So before we blunder into the real reason, why--”
“I think I agree-- even Yi Seong-gye would know better than to send you to give the court’s formal regrets,” said a third voice drolly, and Seon-ho turned to see Hwi come up alongside. “Weren’t you punished for refusing to apologize to the prince when you stormed into his residence without permission once?” Without waiting for an answer, Hwi shifted in his saddle and addressed Sung-rok. “Admitting fault isn’t something Seon-ho was any good at when we were growing up, either. You’d think his fine robes jumped off his body and rolled themselves in the mud every time we went out into the woods, to hear him tell it.”
“Hm,” said Sung-rok, although his lip twitched again in his not-quite smile, and he glanced at Hwi, then back at Seon-ho. “I’ll check with the other guards we have riding with us, see what they’ve heard,” he told Seon-ho, and then added, as close to ‘impish’ as Sung-rok ever allowed himself, “Perhaps you can work on your ‘apologies’ with your friend.”
Seon-ho sighed long-sufferingly. Sung-rok smirked at him and turned his horse to fall back to where the larger group of Bang-won’s guard were riding, eyes carefully scanning the dripping fur and maple trees and springy brush around them.
Hwi watched Sung-rok leave and turned a searching, earnest look on Seon-ho until Seon-ho couldn’t pretend to ignore it any longer.
“Are we?” Hwi asked, when Seon-ho looked over.
“Are we what? Going to practice apologizing? Please, no.”
Hwi snorted slightly, then gave Seon-ho a thin, pressed smile. “I meant ‘are we friends?’” he clarified. “I don’t know why he would call me your--”
“I don’t either. Sung-rok has an odd sense of humor,” said Seon-ho shortly, ignoring how Hwi’s face tightened at his tone. “We were, but since then… You serve Yi Bang-won,” Seon-ho pointed out, then nearly winced. As misdirection, that was so clumsy he thought even Hwi would see through it. He should have been better at smoothly pushing Hwi away-- he’d certainly watched his father do so to inconvenient acquaintances enough times to have picked up the method.
“I do serve Bang-won,” Hwi agreed. “And you serve Yi Seong-gye’s court, which I think puts us on the same side right now. You seem worried about something beyond not liking the usual bureaucratic fog surrounding the court’s orders to the envoys.”
Seon-ho thought for a moment. The old Hwi would have been offering this out of friendly loyalty, and maybe Hwi was still too soft-hearted for his own good, but ever since he had shown up at the Amnok ferry, when Seon-ho caught Hwi looking in his direction, his expression was always...distant. And that was probably with good reason-- Seon-ho had failed to keep Yeon safe. He’d never apologized for that. Hwi was right-- Seon-ho hated saying ‘sorry,’ because what good came of it? Apologizing was what you did when all you had left were the ashes of a dream around you and an appeal to others’ emotional charity. Better to have influence , and be able to change things before the flames took hold.
He asked, slowly, “You mentioned my trespassing at Bang-won’s residence earlier, but do you remember what we said to each other at the end of that mess, when you turned the reveal of the secret armory on me?”
“I do. But I’m not so worried about myself now,” Hwi said. “I don’t care if anyone else looks out for me, either, although Bang-won seems to have taken that on since I serve as his captain.” The painfully tight not-quite-a-smile was back on Hwi’s face, although he wasn’t looking at Seon-ho now, but down at his hands, resting against his horse’s neck.
“And I said I would do what I must, to reach my goals,” Seon-ho reminded Hwi, feeling a twinge of unease even as he warned Hwi away. There was something in Hwi’s tone... “That’s still true. There’s not much point in talking about ‘sides’ when it’s all more complicated than that.”
“I don’t care about all this political maneuvering, and I never have. If I can help you, then--”
“Hwi, you can’t escape politics,” Seon-ho said with some frustration. “We’re neck-deep in a diplomatic mission right now that came about because the King and the Hongwu Emperor have been flinging polite and increasingly serious accusations of lying and thievery at each other for months.”
“I’m not as much a spring chicken as you think about politics, Seon-ho. I might even know more about the Ming messages than you do; Bang-won mentioned them.” Hwi’s tight, close-lipped expression relaxed into something more genuinely amused. “Complained about the entire situation, really, that Yi Seong-gye let it get this bad before sending him. He thinks it’s why the Ming officers have snubbed us at the last three waystations, and I don’t think he liked the suggestion that maybe the Ming army posted this far out is just incompetent.”
Seon-ho frowned. He had learned, through smiles and praise of many “local specialties,” that the few households who had settled in eastern Liaodong were used to dealing with regular extortion and harassment from the soldiers in their midst, but otherwise barely saw them and gained little else out of their coexistence with the Ming garrisons. This sort of shoddy business was nothing unexpected in the remote corners of a nation, and Liaodong was distant to both Joseon and Ming. It offended Seon-ho’s sense of justice for the people meant to be served, though-- officials who ran their postings within Seon-ho’s jurisdiction with the casual disdain he had observed the past few days would have had Inspector Nam in their face with a warrant and his sword drawn.
“Powerless people who act like they can afford to ignore those who do have influence usually end up in a bad position. As tools of the powerful or under their heel, whether they mean to or not.” Seon-ho gave Hwi a meaningful look. “Better to choose who to follow.”
“Does that mean you can’t imagine we could help each other without my doing what you tell me to?” Hwi shook his head, and the hard lines Seon-ho had noticed were back in his face. “No. I’ve had enough of that for this life and the next.”
“Then I suppose there’s not much more to say. Even if I want to, I can’t openly affiliate with a member of Bang-won’s household without an obvious reason when my father sides with the Queen’s faction. There’s too much of the court, even here,” Seon-ho said. He had enough experience as a meritorious official now that the words came easily and his politely affable expression was perfect, but he couldn’t help but feel even more uneasy.
“I suppose there isn’t.” Although Hwi kept his face expressionless, his tone was cutting. “And I’m really sorry that’s so. I thought I’d watched Yi Seong-gye’s court kill enough things I cared about back in the capital, but now there’s the edge of his sword between us too.”
Seon-ho did wince because not long ago it had been Yeon, between them. He would have given a great deal to go back to that, but what point in stating the obvious? His voice remained perfectly even as he replied, “You should know as well as anyone that the games lords play require blood.”
There was an uncomfortable silence after that.
“He’s doing it on purpose, dragging us off the main route,” hissed a voice, and Seon-ho was drawn out of his thoughts. He looked over to see No In-do, a minor official from the Ministry of Rites, speaking insistently to Jeong Jeon, his senior. It seemed he and Hwi were not the only ones who had been having a difficult conversation.
Jeong Jeon was shaking his head. “The peninsula is wild— more so in recent years. Why, the last time I rode through here half a year ago, there were still Yuan patrols on the eastern ways, and even those have fallen off. So of course our route would change with the rains washing out the road from time to time.”
“We’re being played for fools, and you know it!” snapped No In-do. “You heard what the Ming responses said— the emperor has been implying that court officials have been changing the King’s messages. Someone has to take the blame for it. This is what the Prince does -- removes those who annoy or anger His Majesty.”
When the senior official continued to look bemused, No In-do added, “Why did the King send Gwon Geun with us otherwise? That man fled the nation twice before for siding with the Goryeo loyalists! They say that there were many officials who hated his Majesty who fled the country when he announced his just corrections of the previous King’s poor choices. Do you know where they went?”
“If we held every meritorious official who stayed true to their office under Goryeo as traitors, there would be only vengeful remnants and rabbits left to serve Joseon,” chucked Jeong Jeon. “Officiant No, please calm yourself. These are baseless fears. The King sent a missive west written from his own brush that Joseon would be sending envoys to Yingtian. We are those envoys. We’re honored to have such an illustrious companion as Prince Jeongan to smooth our entry into Ming; it shows the grave importance His Majesty has set upon us.”
No In-do was not comforted. “The Prince is setting us up with an impossible task, and when we fail, he’ll use it as an excuse to have us locked away, or worse. When we arrive he’ll tell His Imperial Majesty the insulting words were our work, and our lateness is an affront to his wish to see us--”
“For that to happen, Prince Jeongan would have to travel all the way to Yingtian. I was under the impression that His Highness had expressed an intention to see us only part of the way to Ming and return to Hanyang himself. You seemed to be the one encouraging him to go further when he proposed leaving us at Liaoyang,” said Seon-ho dryly.
No In-do looked over, startled, then gestured at the dark ridges around them when he recognized Seon-ho, inviting him into the conversation. “You don’t agree either, but does our being here make sense? I ask you, Inspector -- Why? The last few memoranda were carried by only a few envoys. Not all of them returned. And yet we bear no correspondence, and no directives for our behavior on arrival, save we’re to soothe His Imperial Majesty’s temper?”
“I do have questions,” Seon-ho said smoothly, “But I trust His Majesty has his reasons. As does His Highness, I assume. It’s said the Hongwu Emperor wanted to speak with the authors of recent missives in person, to discern the intent behind the authorship. I had no part in that, but I have faith my role will become clear in good time.”
“We might have sent a note,” muttered No In-do, “And saved ourselves the month’s journey through the mud and an uncertain outcome at its end.”
Hwi snorted.
“I think that is what started this trouble in the first place,” said Seon-ho, and glanced over at Hwi.
“I would be happy to pass your concerns over to my lord,” Hwi said to No In-do, keeping his expression guileless, and Seon-ho blinked. For someone who had been declaring their intent to keep clear of politics earlier, this was an unexpected and abrasively direct threat. Bang-won had made his displeasure at being treated with disrespect by Ming obvious already; if he heard the same attitudes from within their own party, No In-do’s dire predictions might come true...for himself. Seon-ho noted how the young man’s face went slightly sallow when he realized Hwi had been listening.
“Perhaps instead of making a scene, we might just agree it’s premature to guess His Majesty’s intentions, and we can best serve our nation by making earnest entreaties of our esteem to His Imperial Majesty,” said Jeong Jeon soothingly. “Better we don’t fight with each other.”
“I can see why the Office of Rites sent you,” said Seon-ho to Jeong Jeon. “You might want to discuss the relative wisdom of badmouthing a member of the royal family when we’re riding under the escort of his men with our colleague,” he added, tipping his head at No In-do, whose expression soured. Jeong Jeon simply inclined his head and rode ahead with No In-do.
“That would be one way to cut the journey short,” Hwi said, something like dark amusement in his tone when it was the two of them riding slightly apart from the rest of the group once more. “If Bang-won had overheard any of that…”
“You don’t think they were reasonable concerns? The fifth prince has a reputation,” Seon-ho pointed out.
Hwi gave Seon-ho a flat look. “Of course he does. He’s more aware of it than anyone. That’s why No In-do was holding a knife to his own throat without realizing it. Bang-won can see the ways the nation is failing those of us the meritorious class doesn’t bother to notice, but every time he tries to step forward so he can do something about it, someone objects because he has a reputation as bloody-minded.”
“He did kill for Yi Seong-gye,” said Seon-ho.
“And so did you, and I,” said Hwi. “You got a court position out of it; Prince Jeongan got an infamous reputation; and I got-- Well. A funeral.” He looked away and his face twisted. “I’m still trying to figure out if I got anything at all except death and ashes.”
There it was again, the hard tone, unlike Hwi, that Seon-ho had noticed earlier. There was grief for Yeon, but alongside it something else that set Seon-ho on edge, although he could not have said why. Hwi wasn’t all right, any more than Seon-ho was-- but again no point in dragging that back out into the sunlight. Instead of asking the pointless questions that came to mind, Seon-ho said, “I noticed you were quick enough to pull in Bang-won’s reputation when you wanted No In-do to back down. That was clever, for someone who doesn’t bother with court politics.”
“I said I didn’t care, not that I was unaware,” Hwi said, lifting his chin and adding pointedly, “Why? It’s the kind of thing you and your father do regularly; does it bother you coming from me?”
“I was surprised you were so quick to invoke Yi Bang-won as your lord,” Seon-ho said, keeping his unease hidden. “You’ve avoided that in the past. Yi Bang-won moves in dangerous circles.”
“I’m not looking to him --or you-- for protection,” Hwi said. “There’s no point. Serving Bang-won grants me access to the comings and goings of Yi Seong-gye’s court and the lords surrounding it. When it’s time, that’s all I need. Until then, I’m as much on his side as anyone’s...since you were asking earlier.”
“I wasn’t exactly, but I’ll keep it in mind,” Seon-ho replied, and bit back his next questions, because he had just finished telling Hwi they couldn’t trust one another, hadn’t he? Still, he wondered: no point why, and time for what?
As Seon-ho stared silently, Hwi made a motion so casually affected that Seon-ho wondered if he had picked it up from Yi Bang-won, a loose ‘as you will’ hand wave, and urged his horse ahead to rejoin the travelling party, leaving Seon-ho alone.
After his earlier exchange with Hwi, Seon-ho had noticed that Sung-rok had been keeping his horse at a noticeably easier pace than the rest of the party, and now the Jurchen captain was watching Tae-ryeong and Yi Bang-won interrogate a terrified woodsman about the route west with a particular smirk that Seon-ho knew meant Sung-rok was amused. The captain would never do something so expressive as laugh out loud, but his lips were pursed and his eyes practically sparking with suppressed mirth when Son-ho glanced over, after Bang-won had lost his temper in a particularly showy display.
“What is it?” Seon-ho asked Sung-rok quietly.
“Why should it be anything?” said Sung-rok in return, and half his lip curled in a sly smile. “Perhaps if we’re lucky enough, we’ll only need to ask for directions two or three more times before reaching the next obvious destination,” he added dry as old bones.
“You mean we missed an obvious path back to the road,” said Seon-ho. Sung-rok was an excellent tracker; what was obvious to him might have been easily missed.
“No,” said Sung-rok in a tone that also conveyed, 'but of course you would.' “Watch the reaction to your esteemed prince the next time he tries to name where he means to go.”
“He’s not ‘my esteemed’ anything,” snapped Seon-ho back quietly, but Sung-rok just smirked at him again, and Seon-ho knew his subordinate was nothing if not eagle-eyed-- so the next time they had to pause to check their route, speaking with a traveling porter, Seon-ho watched.
The porter listened to Yi Bang-won with an expression of polite attentiveness upon his face until Bang-won said “Yonsan,” and then the slightest wrinkle marred the man’s forehead as his eyes darted nervously among the party, taking in their fine clothes and well-cared-for mounts.
“I’m not sure, truely, my lord,” said the porter at last, nervously “There might be a settlement that was named so. I recall it was to the east of here.”
“That is back the way we came,” said Yi Bang-won, low and furious. “Why is everyone so wretchedly uninformed in this mudslick of a region?”
Seon-ho realized he wasn’t the only one who was out-of-temper with their travel through the wild country of the peninsula. He caught Sung-rok’s eye. “The name,” said Seon-ho, and Sung-rok tilted his head just slightly, his quiet confirmation.
They stopped to rest the horses not long after, and stretch out strained limbs. Seon-ho filled both their waterskins from a nearby steam as Sung-rok rubbed down his and Seon-ho’s horses’ and checked for stones. Handing the waterskin to Sung-rok, Seon-ho asked quietly, “Why would the names matter-- haven’t people heard both?”
“Of course they’ve heard both,” said Sung-rok scathingly as he worked. “But whose army guards the waystations? Who has decreed that their citizens must relocate to settle the riverlands to the west of here? And who turned back at Wihwa and let them do it?” asked Sung-rok, softer still on the last. “My family settled not far from these hills-- most people remember the Balhae and Jurchen names, but they remain unacknowledged where Ming sympathizers might hear.”
“So Yonsan is--”
“Yunshan,” said Sung-rok, the word spilling out softer, the second syllable drawn-out. “Places are similar; but that doesn’t make much difference to an angry officer with a spear who’s looking for an excuse at a checkpoint. This is known-- General Yi Seong-gye respected it when he pushed all the way to Liaoyang ten years before I came into his service-- but His Highness is just mantling like a rooster over his national pride.”
“Yes, he would,” said Seon-ho sourly, and considered a moment. “So are we in trouble if this continues?”
“It’s going to take a lot longer, if we have to deal with the commoners who decide they don’t dare admit they know. There have been a few that seem to have decided His Highness is touched in the head and taken pity on him,” said Sung-rok. “We won’t be truly lost, but His Highness’ anger over being looked down on won’t improve.”
“Hm,” said Seon-ho, and caught the worried look Gwon Geun was exchanging with No In-do. “I don’t think you’re the only one who has noticed the issue,” said Seon-ho, dipping his chin subtly in the emissaries’ direction. Sung-rok looked over briefly, then turned back to his work, unimpressed.
“If Bang-won’s household guard knows more about why we’re here, they wouldn’t share,” Sung-rok commented stonily.
Seon-ho glanced over at Gwon Geun and No In-do again subtly, and noticed Gwon Geun was saying something that had No In-do listening intently and nodding. “But you think there’s more to it they’re not sharing,” Seon-ho said, and Sung-rok inclined his chin, the same shadow of a dry, mocking smile playing around his lips.
“I suppose one advantage of a lawless land is we don’t have to wait for official permission to do some more digging,” Seon-ho commented, and Sung-rok flashed him a quick, wolflike grin, showing teeth.
“Would you like me to start with the envoys?” he asked. “I don’t think it would take much.”
“I agree, especially since No In-do was practically declaring his mistrust of Yi Bang-won earlier without so much as being asked,” said Seon-ho wryly. “No, I don’t think that will help. No In-do and Jeong Jeon are as nervous as spooked deer, and just as uninformed. The King’s special envoy might know more, but as No In-do was overexplaining earlier, Gwon Geun also survived being branded a traitor twice already. It will take more than a glower and a flash of a knife to make him tell you something he means to keep hidden.”
“It doesn’t have to stop there,” said Sung-rok.
“There are still lines that should not be crossed,” Seon-ho reminded him. “‘Lawless’ doesn’t mean ‘unobserved.’ Yi Bang-won has the authority of the throne to censure us if he wishes. Still, with nerves and tempers this on-edge, something has to slip, and both the meritorious officials of our party and the Ming might not pay you as much mind as they should. Keep your eyes and ears open.”
“I always do,” Sung-rok said with faint reproach. “Did you learn anything from your friend?”
Seon-ho took a deep breath and tried not to let his irritation show on his face. “I learned that Hwi and I are not friends,” he said.
“Useful,” commented Sung-rok, and Seon-ho could not tell if he was being snide. “He didn’t share anything about our assignment then?”
“Bang-won is irritated by the King’s delay in making Joseon’s stance known and sending envoys. Perhaps that is driving him to assert his authority in other ways,” Seon-ho said.
“He isn’t as practical as the general,” Sung-rok observed, offhand, and that was a veiled criticism of Bang-won, Seon-ho thought. Sung-rok did not have much time for visionaries. “Will you tell him about the Ming names?” he asked Seon-ho, finishing up with his horse’s grooming and swinging back into the saddle.
“Perhaps later. Prince Jeongan would hardly thank me if I mentioned an error in front of others,” said Seon-ho expressionlessly, smoothly mounting up and exchanging a quiet, laughing glance with Sung-rok. As the party moved into the forest again, he added to Sung-rok, “Your family lives near here?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Sung-rok warned him, and Seon-ho smirked.
He knew it wasn’t very admirable, but Seon-ho actually held off from saying anything about their wayfinding issue for the rest of their mid-day travel, during which time Seon-ho had the pleasure of watching Yi Bang-won nearly lose his temper twice more when the sangmin he kept trying to interrogate seemed momentarily struck dumb when Bang-won refused to acknowledge anything but the Joseon placenames for the peninsula’s landmarks. But as Sung-rok had predicted, they found their way eventually. Bang-won was snappish with anyone who so much as looked in his direction by the time they did so.
They had made their way off the ridge and into another small valley with some kind of larger body of water at the other end-- an eddy in an unknown river, or a small lake. Halfway across the valley, the local Ming detachment had set up one of the checkpoints Sung-rok had mentioned, and Seon-ho watched Bang-won’s shoulders settle as they sighted it. He thought Bang-won would press ahead and demand immediate attention, but apparently the confusion and shame of being nearly lost in the mountains several times over that morning had curbed Bang-won’s usual pompous impatience.
Next to the fifth prince, Hwi sat uneasily on his horse-- he had never been comfortable riding, although Seon-ho had managed to impress enough of the basics on him that he had passed the mounted section of the military exam easily-- and Hwi would have suffered the worst of Yi Bang-won’s bad mood as one of his two retainers, of course. Seon-ho reminded himself again, the voice in his head sounding like Sung-rok, that he and Hwi had broken apart when Yeon had fallen four years ago so there was no need for guilt now -- how Yi Bang-won treated Hwi was nothing to Seon-ho.
His treacherous sentiment betrayed him anyway, and he nudged his own mount forward until he was next to Bang-won. “I believe I may have uncovered information that will make our journey smoother from this point forward, Your Highness,” Seon-ho offered, careful to keep his tone cool and respectful.
“Indeed?” asked Bang-won, giving Seon-ho a half-lidded look. A stupid man might mistake that glance for mild interest instead of a warning, Seon-ho thought. He knew better.
“Please forgive my impertinence,” Seon-ho said tonelessly and Bang-won smirked at him. They both knew how perfunctory those words were from Seon-ho. “But it is the nature of my official position that I cannot help but look for answers to inconveniences the royal family suffers.” Bang-won’s eyebrows arched, but he inclined his head and Seon-ho continued, “I have learned the common people of the peninsula look to the great dynasty that shelters them as a father, and in respect use the Ming names when referring to settlements in Liaodong.”
“Filial deference is proper,” said Bang-won consideringly, and gazed expressionless at Seon-ho for another moment. “Do you know why I requested your presence in our party, Inspector Nam?”
Seon-ho felt his expression freeze as Hwi looked over, startled. “I wasn’t aware you had,” Seon-ho said after a moment.
“The Hongwu Emperor had suggested the authors of certain missives be presented to him in person to answer for their offences,” Bang-won said softly. This was the tone Bang-won used in court when he was hunting, and Seon-ho waited, tense. “Nam Jeon drafted some of those requests, were you aware?”
“You summoned me to strike at my father,” Seon-ho said, flat and unsurprised.
“Not at all,” said Bang-won, convivial. “I suggested Nam Jeon travel with us, as it was his act to answer for, but my father disagreed. He meant to send His Imperial Majesty another missive explaining why Nam Jeon could not be spared by the throne despite the emperor’s direct entreaty; I thought it better for the nation to provide the spirit of what was requested. A ‘sword from the Inspector’s office’ might prove itself useful on the journey besides.”
“If your point is that you mean to make use of me, I’m aware,” Seon-ho said stiffly. “Please spare me the fiction that you needed an excuse.” It was dangerous to needle Bang-won when he was in a vicious temper, but if the prince was in a talkative mood, better to risk and learn what Seon-ho could.
“You mistake me,” said Bang-won, still ominously soft. “I am here to serve the nation as requested by my father, not pursue a vendetta against you. We all work towards building the path to a greater Joseon, slaves, commoners, meritorious citizens, and royals alike. Your family could stand to keep it in mind.”
“Your Highness,” said Seon-ho, inclining his head. He thought he knew where Bang-won would place his own service-- under a five-colored beaded crown, Seon-ho thought darkly.
Hwi was still watching Seon-ho quietly with a worried expression as Bang-won seemed poised to say something further, but a soldier from the Ming checkpoint approached.
“Your father choosing to let you suffer for him doesn’t mean you owe it to him,” Hwi said quietly to Seon-ho as Bang-won turned to address the Ming soldier.
“Do I carry the family name of Nam or not?” Seon-ho said to Hwi. “It’s not a choice.”
“Seon-ho--”
At that moment, the Ming officer who had been talking with Bang-won turned and said, “Nam Seon-ho?”
After a moment’s pause, Seon-ho said, “Yes?”
The officer nodded. “You’re to present yourself to the captain at Yunshan, to be restrained under charges of collusion and conspiracy.”
“What?” said Hwi, as Bang-won looked over, impassive.
“Would this be part of my service to Joseon?” Seon-ho asked Bang-won sharply, and then turned to the Ming officer. “We have just arrived as diplomatic envoys of the Joseon court, charged with bringing our King’s greetings to His Imperial Majesty in Yingtian. How can I also be complicit in conspiracy when I have not set foot in Liaodong for nearly a decade?”
“That may be,” said the officer, “But it’s more than my head is worth, to allow another Nam to move unhindered through the Emperor’s lands,” and he jerked his head as more guards came forward to surround Nam Seon-ho’s horse.
“Another Nam?” asked Bang-won, snapping his fan open.
“Nam Un arrived in Liaoyang a year and a half ago as the ambassador from Joseon,” said the officer. “He has been found to be disruptive to peace and prosperity in our district-- and worse lately. He has been raising resistance against His Imperial Majesty.”
The officer jerked his head, and his subordinate took off at a brisk jog, “The administrative office at Liaoyang sent him to Yunshan waystation, in anticipation of your arrival. We dare not allow any of his co-conspirators to continue agitating against decency in the region.”
“I can’t come any further into Liaodong because of my name,” said Seon-ho, more a statement than a question.
“You are barred from Ming territory,” said the officer. “You may join your kinsman in detention at Yunshan, if you insist.” He turned to Yi Bang-won. “I hope the envoys of the Yi King will forgive us this unfortunate incident. Please excuse our clumsiness in not discovering this representative’s treachery sooner.”
“I imagine we might survive the awkwardness. I question the correctness of your extension of Ming’s boundaries, but of course we sincerely apologize for any disturbance caused by our emissary while bearing the mantle of my father’s court. Bad blood, I expect.” Yi Bang-won was as arid as a cold desert.
Seon-ho took a deep breath and held back his temper. It wasn’t the time to rise to Bang-won’s open insult to his family, and Bang-won knew that as well as Seon-ho did. He’d always enjoyed gaining such little cuts to Seon-ho’s reputation as he could manage, nothing new-- it was the same animosity that had driven his bland declaration of Seon-ho’s ‘usefulness’ earlier.
Nam Un was a distant member of their family; Seon-ho had marked it, vaguely, when he had been sent west as a representative of the court, but had thought no more of it then. “We’re being played for fools; the Prince removes those who inconvenience the throne,” Nam Seon-ho remembered No In-do insisting, and Bang-won asking quietly with his eyes half-lidded, “Do you know why I requested your presence?” However Hwi might protest that Bang-won felt remorseful in his role as Yi Seong-gye’s executioner, the fact remained that this was how Bang-won served his father; his own bloody filial piety.
He glanced at Sung-rok, but as ever, Sung-rok’s face was expressionless, and if he was uneasy at this development he wasn’t going to show it here. Seon-ho reached for his sword hilt. “If I decline to be restrained at Yunshan or watch a member of my family maligned unnecessarily?” Seon-ho asked, and Sung-rok was suddenly there at his side, intent.
The Ming officer frowned, clearly out of patience. “If you have proof of innocence, please present it.” When Seon-ho was silent, the officer shook his head. “The ambassador’s treachery--”
“Cannot be overlooked,” said Bang-won archly. “But his punishment is not for Ming to dispense. Our emissary has shamed us. We are here to address the respect owed from Joseon to your great nation, but you shame Joseon by insisting on keeping our ambassador when his fate should be our King's to decide.”
The officer paused, unsure. “We were ordered to detain Nam Un.”
“And you have, but he is clearly our concern now,” said Bang-won. “Inspector Nam will escort the ambassador from Liaodong. I think the court in Hanyang will be extremely interested in hearing what Nam Un has taken upon himself in my father’s name.”
“You are--”
“Prince Jeongan of Joseon,” said Bang-won coolly, and the officer stiffened further.
“We will allow Nam Un to leave Ming under the guard of the honored envoy if he is taken beyond the banks of the Yalu River,” said the officer. “I can allow no more than this; our orders are clear that the conspiracy in Liaodong is to be stamped out without mercy.”
“I will take Nam Un back across the Amnok to Uiju Fortress,” Seon-ho said, keeping his tone polite, and releasing his sword. Bang-won was...protecting him? Or Nam Un. There was more to uncover, clearly. Even if Seon-ho and Sung-rok had a clear path to Joseon, there were still the other envoys...and Hwi. Not all the envoys sent west come back, Seon-ho recalled.
“We’ll double-back to the fifth waystation at Longfeng, after,” he told Hwi, purposefully using the Ming title and watching Bang-won stiffen at the edge of his vision. And if there was trouble, that was as close as Seon-ho could wait for word, without causing further incident. “We can meet you on your return.”
“Very good,” said Bang won, not even trying to hide his amusement at Seon-ho’s glowering expression.
There was an interminable wait, after, while Nam Un was retrieved, as Bang-won had decided he couldn't be bothered to make the Ming's work any easier by riding to the fourth waystation to retrieve the ambassador himself. During the pause, the other envoys pretended Seon-ho and Sung-rok did not exist, as was expected for an official who had fallen under such sudden, damning suspicion. If the situation had remotely allowed it, Seon-ho might have engaged in bitter amusement at the predictable shunning, but he spent his time checking over his gear and horse instead. Eventually, there was a confusing bustle of noise and clatter as the Ming guards hauled over a stumbling, half-conscious figure between them and nearly threw him over a horse’s withers.
Seon-ho was mounted with a lead-rope tied to his saddle shortly after, another weary (although hopefully more direct) ride in front of him with Sung-rok stoic at his side. He did not mind the physical exertion of the return to Uiju and then back into Liaodong as much as he would have expected even that morning, but he puzzled at the tightness in his chest, an apprehension that by all rights shouldn’t have a place in his heart.
What happened to Hwi and the other envoys, including Yi Bang-won who fancied himself a great mastermind, was no matter to Seon-ho, was it? The King had sons to spare and Hwi had made his indifference to Seon-ho clear. So what happened next, under the mountain fog that drifted through Liaodong-- it wasn’t his concern. Not any more, you have your assignment, he scolded himself sternly, as he turned his horse’s head to the east.