BW C21

Chapter 21

Hoeun carefully asked something that had long made him curious.

“Sergeant, do you not have a guide?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I do.”

“Where is he? I’ll fetch him for you.”

“Didn’t come along. He’s at the encampment. Riding back and forth all day—he gets mighty bored of it. And if he says he don’t want to go, there ain’t no way I can make him… So I came alone.”

“But… you’re injured…”

“Don’t you worry. This’ll be right as rain after a few nights’ sleep. He’s so finicky, he won’t even hold my hand over a scratch like this.”

Gilsang clicked his tongue but couldn’t hide a smile. It was the first time Hoeun had seen him smile like that. He must truly love his guide.

“Even so, not seeing each other for twenty days—is that all right?”

“It’s bearable. Our Captain went over ten years without his guide and managed. Wouldn’t do for me to complain over this.”

At that, Hoeun cast a glance at Taemuk in the distance.

Ten years. Ten years lived without a guide. Then when had he become a Military God? And how had he lived alone all that time? He couldn’t fathom it.

Whether he sensed that gaze or not, Taemuk, impassive, was yanking a fallen soldier from between rocks as if uprooting a radish.

Everyone else was with a guide, yet Taemuk did not spare Hoeun even a moment’s glance. He did not seem to need him. Hoeun couldn’t help feeling… slighted.

Does he dislike me so much?

No—that can’t be. Would he have saved me, then?

Hoeun’s fingers twitched. The moment Taemuk had rescued him flashed bright in his mind. He had seen just how large and powerful that fist was—how quick and deft.

Yet he hadn’t strutted about claiming he’d saved him, nor scolded him as a fool… Truly, a man among men.

As he kept sneaking glances at Taemuk, Hoeun unconsciously licked his dry lips. The wound that had split when he’d taken Taemuk’s flesh into his mouth the night before stung.

And yet, somehow, it didn’t hurt at all.

Leaving the stream and following the horses’ tracks, they soon found them. Because of the tied reins, they were bunched together, grazing.

Hoeun quickly checked his own horse. Thankfully, it seemed unhurt. Monsters, it appeared, had little interest in horseflesh. Still worried it might have been startled, he stroked its neck again and again.

Just then, Gilsang came to help him mount.

“Up you get.”

But Hoeun said, awkward,

“Ah, I—I think I’ll walk.”

“Why’s that?”

“The b—blood… might get on it…”

“On what?”

“On the horse.”

“Pardon?”

“Wouldn’t the horse dislike it?”

Gilsang pulled in his chin and stared at him—an expression that said he had no idea what on earth he was talking about.

But Hoeun could not mount in such a state—soaked in monster blood. He would feel sorry for the horse—and for Father. It was Father’s cherished horse, one he’d groomed as often as he polished the car bearing the plum blossom crest.

If something is precious to another, one should treat it as precious too—be it truly valuable or seemingly trivial.

As Hoeun gave Gilsang an embarrassed smile, a snort came from behind his head—a scoff close to a sneer. He whipped his head around. Taemuk was passing behind.

“…”

Hoeun blinked. Was he laughing at what he’d said? No… surely not? He watched Taemuk’s back. But as ever, Taemuk did not look back.

After wandering the forest for quite some time, Jeokudae found a space to pitch tents only at midnight. Beyond a few trees ran a sizeable river. Deep in the mountains, the current was strong, though not so fierce as the stream.

Once the perimeter was checked, soldiers—men and women alike—plunged into the river. They must have been desperate to wash, having been drenched in blood from the battle.

Hoeun wanted to wash too, but held back. He couldn’t bring himself to bathe with them.

It wasn’t aristocratic airs—just embarrassment, awkwardness. If he went now, he knew he would only dab himself in a corner, washing more in pretense than in fact, watching their eyes.

Still, he imagined that someday he might be able to wash among them.

Only after one by one the soldiers had gone back to their tents did Hoeun head for the river. He held clothes and cloths in his arms, and in his hand a flashlight Father had packed for him.

The river he reached was broad and large. It was night, of course, so dark, but brighter than the forest—the moon in the sky and the moon in the water made two.

Even so, he couldn’t help but be afraid. The gaps between the trees around the river were so black that something seemed ready to jump out at any moment. Sweeping the beam here and there, Hoeun muttered to himself,

“Maybe… I should just…”

Go back.

He hesitated, then decided he couldn’t possibly sleep in this state; he hid under a big tree and began to undress. The dried blood crumbled into powder and scattered. Where the cloth was thin, it had set stuck fast to the skin, maddening to peel off. And monster flesh was smeared here and there; it made him retch.

Hoeun stripped as if his clothes were on fire. But he did not remove his under-jacket. However things were, how could he bare his skin outdoors.

Before stepping into the river, he shone the flashlight around again. He checked the unit’s tents not far off. At this distance, if he shouted, someone would surely come—Gilsang, or else… Taemuk.

He wedged the flashlight into the darkest notch between trees to shine and dipped his hands into the river.

“…Cold.”

Naturally, he had never washed in cold water. Even wetting his hands alone raised gooseflesh along his spine. But he gritted his teeth and scrubbed his hands clean. He held them to the light to wash even under the nails. He splashed his face lightly.

Then, after staring at the pitch-black water, he slowly went in. Afraid of a sudden depth, he turned around and lowered himself like a child descending stairs, testing the bottom, dipping one leg at a time.

It was a sorry sight, but he had never once swum in his life; it was the best he could do.

Right by the bank, the water reached his hips—perfect for washing. He wanted to bolt from the cold, but he hugged his arms in and endured. If he couldn’t stand even this, he told himself, he wasn’t a man—so he endured and endured.

He let down his hair to wash it, and he scrubbed his body. Where the under-jacket kept him from reaching, he glanced around and slipped a hand beneath his clothes.

By then, oddly, the cold felt eased. It was surely only that his body had adapted, but Hoeun felt like a true man. His brain tingled; he even felt giddy.

He made a point of washing more heartily—splish, splash. He imagined a big man flinging water about as he scrubbed, though in truth he looked more like a cat scooping water with a paw and licking it.

Right then, a leaf drifting from somewhere brushed his wrist.

“Mother!”

Hoeun jumped in place. The ankle floating down the stream flashed through his mind—red blood watering the current, someone’s flesh.

“…”

Suddenly the black water frightened him. From time to time a strong eddy curled around his legs; that too scared him needlessly. Growing pale, he rinsed the rest of his body quickly and finished. As he moved to climb onto the bank—

Squelch, squelch.

There were footsteps. Human footsteps—yes, human—but in that moment he didn’t think it was a person. The monster he had seen hours ago still flickered before his eyes.

Scrambling for a place to hide, Hoeun stepped on soft earth and slid.

“Uagh…”

His head snapped back; his body tilted too. He flailed his arms, but—splash!—was sucked into the water.

Black water rushed into nose, ears, throat, without distinction. He sprang up with a start. It was only hip-deep, but in that instant it felt like the sea.

“Haa…”

Scrubbing his face with his palms, he flicked his eyes toward the sound. A dark figure stood before the water, staring at him.

After staring for a while, Hoeun realized it wasn’t a ghost or a monster—it was Taemuk. His shoulders slumped with release. “Whew,” he let out a vast sigh of relief. Then, belatedly, he greeted him.

“Y-you’ve come.”

“…”

Taemuk didn’t answer. He waded in, still in uniform.

“…”

Hoeun, manners forgotten, looked him up and down. Even as the others pitched tents and ate supper, Taemuk had not shown himself. Where had he been? Now that he looked, he seemed even more bloodstained than before. Had he gone to kill a monster? Alone? What if he got hurt…

Hoeun bit his lip and stammered,

“W-were you hurt at all today?”