“Hojeumu wijeunikkeseuneu joeujineogeuseuneu. Suntogeu beondeuseu ireueujeuneunde…”
Toward the end, his pronunciation became even more slurred, and Gene could not even guess what he was saying. Dalsad said nothing. Then she bowed her head and whispered something into the castle lord’s ear. After a short interval, the lord suddenly opened his eyes wide and spoke with relatively clear pronunciation.
“Yeongde Isgeudeori beori seuhaneu jonmaseun geuwibeeo manse.”
Gene could understand only the final words. “Long live His Majesty our sovereign king, protected by the glorious star of Isgand.” The castle lord dropped his head. Gene started, thinking he had died, but Dalsad spoke.
“It is because he used his strength. Please go now.”
The pounding had grown louder, as though it would smash the whole castle. Cracks ran through every part of the door, and the hinges looked ready to fall away at any moment. Gene’s thoughts were in turmoil, but he shook his head and cast them off. The final fight was before them. What the castle lord had said was something he could ask him in the next world. All the soldiers had risen, taken their weapons, and were staring at the door. Gene stood among them. Thud, thud, thud. At last, the wood in the middle split, and an axe blade came inside. Gene suddenly saw that all the soldiers were looking at him. Zamallik said,
“Please say a few words.”
Gene lowered his head, then raised it and chuckled.
“You’ve all worked hard. In ten minutes, there will be a feast given by a prince. Meat and wine will flow without end. Clear your throats and wait.”
That feast would probably take place in the next world. The soldiers’ lips twitched. They had no leisure to laugh, but they all felt the same.
“Let’s warm up before the feast. Tell those fools to come.”
Tension gathered at the tip of his raised sword. It rose and fell with his breathing. There had been no chance to wipe it, and spots of blood had dried black over it. The hole in the door steadily grew. All manner of weapons pushed through. With them came beastlike howls. The Jandana seemed thoroughly enraged. Thud, bang, thud, bang.
“Strike!”
When one man pushed his upper body through, the soldiers’ swords thrust into him together. In the meantime, the left door panel swayed, and at last its hinge came loose. Hands came rushing in and lifted the panel away. Feet kicked at the piled furnishings. The corridor visible beyond them was packed. Then a Saemgeuneul soldier rushed in and stabbed the Jandana at the very front. A spear shot out, pierced the soldier’s body, lifted him into the air, and brought him down. All the other soldiers charged at once. Gene was among them. Weapons thrust through the gaps in the piled furniture, thrust back, and became entangled. It was then.
Bwooooo…
It was a sound he had heard once before. The Jandana horn. Back then, it had been a horn of retreat. But that could not be the case now.
Bwooooo…
The Jandana began to waver. Footsteps sounded as someone ran up from below. Excited shouts passed back and forth. He could not understand them, but something astonishing seemed to have happened. The horn sounded again. Suddenly, the Jandana began withdrawing like the ebbing tide. One soldier widened his eyes and muttered.
“Where are they going?”
With victory before them, the Jandana retreated, leaving a mere thirty or so men they could have annihilated in ten minutes. Soon, not one remained in the corridor. Unable to restrain themselves, the soldiers shoved aside the piled furnishings. Gene too ran into the corridor and looked out a window. Beyond the small square, he saw spears and flags filling the large square. Beyond them, he saw the Epherium army pouring in without end. And he saw one more thing.
Dawn had broken.
“The adjutant is a liar.”
That was true. Looking embarrassed, Gene glanced into the air. In his hand was a needle.
“I agree, truly. I believed him.”
As Gaiar chuckled and held out his cup, Gene clinked his own against it. They drank, but what was in the cups was mint tea. Gaiar cried out,
“Ah, what fine tea.”
Gene could do nothing but laugh too. After all the fighting, after winning as they had, there was not a single drop of liquor to celebrate the victory. It had all burned when they set the outer castle on fire. In the keep, of course, there had been no liquor. Because of this matter, the dissatisfaction of the surviving soldiers seemed to reach the sky. Some even claimed that Dalsad, who disliked drinking, had urged the outer castle be burned because she had foreseen this.
“I was looking forward to it too. Meat and wine.”
When Asabel, seated at Gene’s feet, muttered, Gaiar pretended to give him a smack on the head.
“You’re not even old enough to drink.”
Asabel grinned and ran away, but circled back to Gene. Gene spoke.
“You don’t have to follow me around anymore.”
“Ah, it’s become a habit.”
Looking back, it felt like a dream. Perhaps it felt that way all the more because he had slept for a good while and woken. Facing a future he could not have imagined even half a day earlier, he felt drunk inside even though he was drinking mint tea. Yet that did not completely dispel his regret over the lack of liquor. If there had been liquor, it would at least have driven away the smell of blood caught at the tip of his nose.
He had washed and changed his clothes, but he was still caught in that smell. In fact, there was a reason. He had not been able to change his boots. The leatherworker’s shop had burned down, so they had not found a suitable replacement. Looking down at his reddish boots, the previous night suddenly came alive again. A shudder went through him. Zamallik, who had been watching Gene from across the way, looked around at them.
“Come now, why so many complaints? Sitting in a circle beside the castle wall where the wind is cool, holding swords and chatting, isn’t this a heavenly sight? I like it here better than the next world, where meat and wine flow without end.”
As Gene made a gesture of hearty agreement, Zamallik chuckled and held out his cup. As they clinked cups, someone behind him spoke.
“Adjutant, the general is calling for you.”
Gene sprang up, turned, and thundered,
“Tell the general to wait a little, and come sit down here at once!”
It was Hanbun. It was their first meeting since Gene had entrusted him with the escape the day before. When the Epherium army killed all the remaining Jandana and entered the keep, Gene and the soldiers had relaxed with exhaustion to the point that they could scarcely remain standing. Having heard only that Hanbun was safe, they had all lain down and slept for a long while. Even after getting up around evening, Hanbun had not shown himself, saying he had been summoned by the general. Now, all of a sudden, he was standing behind Gene.
“The general said to bring you quickly… but I suppose I may have a cup of mint tea.”
When Gene embraced him tightly and let him go, Hanbun grimaced because of his wounded shoulder. But Gene winced too. The wound at the nape of his neck hurt. Wounds were strange things. While he was fighting hard, he had not even noticed it, but now that things were peaceful, it grated terribly on his nerves. When Gene handed Hanbun a cup, Asabel poured tea.
“Could there be wings on those feet?”
When Gaiar lightly kicked Hanbun’s foot, a little tea spilled. Hanbun quickly caught and drank it, as though unwilling to waste any, and replied,
“Might you and our adjutant be immortal? To be honest, I…”
Hanbun stopped speaking and looked at Gene’s face. Their eyes met. Of course, Hanbun too must have burned inside throughout the ride. He said he had not even stopped his horse for a sip of water. He must have been afraid. Whether Gene and his comrades could hold, whether everyone would die by a hairsbreadth…
Gene sprang to his feet.
“Enough of that. I have something to say. I don’t think I can let you men go. Of course, you must all have ties to your lives, but…”
Hanbun’s eyes widened, then he chuckled. It was an army life that had kept him from returning for more than ten years, until he had even forgotten his son’s face. Gene was smiling too.
“You must all stay beside me. The royal guards have so many rules that you’d find it stifling, so become the military officers who escort me whenever I leave the palace. If you wish, I’ll call your families to the capital as well. I’ll offer them a most courteous apology for making you turn your backs on home. Oh, and I won’t ask what you think. I’ll do as I please. A prince may exercise that much tyranny, surely?”
Smiles spread over face after face. Then Asabel spoke.
“What about me?”
“You, of course, cannot become a military officer.”
The instant Asabel’s shoulders began to sag with disappointment, Gene continued.
“A messenger suits you, after all. Become my errand boy.”
“Thank you!”
After a while, Gene rose and went to meet the general. The general too had a cup of mint tea sitting on his table.
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