BW C42

Chapter 42

“Since you were going to come like this anyway, why did you abandon me?”

The ways to torment a person were many, it seemed. If he wasn’t treating him coldly and ignoring him, he was forcing fist-rice down his throat—or leaving him behind in the grasses…

Taemuk was truly a wicked man. What was heaven thinking to bestow such power on a person like that?

Then Taemuk tilted his head and spoke.

“Who told you to follow?”

“…”

At the merciless words, Hoeun’s mouth fell slightly open. After a blank pause, he snapped his head away. It was an insolent act. When a superior arrived, he should have sprung up and bowed first. Had Father or Mother seen it, they would have scolded him roundly for such rudeness.

But—well—neither was here now. This wasn’t home.

When Hoeun sulked in silence, Taemuk asked,

“Why did you follow?”

“…Because I was worried.”

“About what?”

“About you, General.”

“…”

“That you might get hurt. That you might need me. Though—it seems you didn’t…”

As Hoeun glanced at the monster in Taemuk’s hand, Taemuk tossed it down. When a house-sized mass fell, the ground thumped and shuddered. Blood welled up and gushed from the grotesquely torn neck, beading into pools among the dense grasses.

Hoeun wriggled his backside to move away from the blood. At that moment—

Kaaaak…

From far away came the faint cry of a monster. Though distant, Hoeun started, shoulders jerking. Monsters were swift. They could arrive here in the blink of an eye.

Looking toward the sound, Hoeun gripped his pistol tight. Taemuk, meanwhile, crouched down on one knee before him and asked, teasing,

“Scared?”

On that pointlessly handsome mouth, something between a smile and a sneer hovered. Hoeun looked at it quietly. It seemed Taemuk was going to torment him again. How now? Would he seize him by the nape and drag him to a monster—dangle him as bait?

“…Yes. I’m scared.”

Hoeun answered softly. How could he not be? Monsters killed people. They hurt Jeokudae’s soldiers. Perhaps he, and Taemuk too, might be hurt or killed.

“If you’re that scared, you should’ve stayed in that fancy house.”

Taemuk flicked the blood from his hand and sneered. But Hoeun didn’t grow angry. He was becoming quite accustomed to such words.

“How could I stay home—when my Military God, the General, is here.”

“…”

For a moment, Taemuk stilled. He stared at Hoeun—his gaze fixed and unyielding, its meaning unreadable. He lifted his chin slightly and lowered it as he spoke.

“Why didn’t you shout. You should’ve said I’m here, save me. What would you have done if a monster came.”

“I couldn’t shout because a monster might come.”

Hoeun shot back at once. However ignorant he might be about battle, he knew at least that you shouldn’t shout in a place like this. How was it different from saying Come and get me? Just how stupid did Taemuk think him?

“…”

Taemuk closed his mouth.

Hoeun glanced at him slyly and thought: surprised that I’m not as foolish as he expected? He must have thought I’d be screaming myself hoarse—and now that I didn’t, maybe he looks at me anew? That would be nice. That I’m not a complete simpleton, that I’m rather brave—if only he’d think so.

In a lower voice than usual, as if in passing, as if it were of no consequence, Taemuk said,

“Next time, shout.”

“But—”

“I’m faster than the monsters.”

At that, Hoeun briefly held his breath. He blinked rapidly; each flutter sent his thick lashes dancing. Perhaps finding the tickle on his chin annoying, Taemuk turned his head the other way with a faint grimace.

“…Yes.”

Hoeun answered in a small voice. The corner of his mouth lifted—without his knowing.

“…”

“…”

Silence fell. The only sound was the soughing of the grasses surrounding them. Yet it no longer sounded as cold or frightening as before—because Taemuk was beside him now.

Then a dark red thread of blood slipped down from Taemuk’s brow, along the corner of his eye. It didn’t look like his own blood; likely monster blood that had soaked his hair. As he moved to wipe it away with his hand, a handkerchief appeared.

“…”

Hoeun had expected Taemuk to bat his hand aside. But strangely, Taemuk kept still. So Hoeun pressed and wiped the blood away.

It was the first time his handkerchief had ever touched Taemuk.

But there was so much blood that the white cloth quickly turned bright red.

“It seems the ‘red’ in Jeokudae belongs to you alone, General.”

Hoeun offered a light joke and smiled faintly.

“…”

Taemuk gave no reply. Hoeun hadn’t expected one. He kept wiping Taemuk’s face—but the blood on his cheeks and jaw wouldn’t come off, already dried to a crust. Still, he pursed his upper lip in concentration and kept at it—

“That’s enough. A dip in the river will do.”

Taemuk tapped the inside of Hoeun’s wrist—firmly enough to nudge his hand aside. Hoeun withdrew without protest. With a single handkerchief, cleaning all the blood he’d been drenched with would have been impossible.

“If you don’t plan to sleep here, get up.”

Taemuk rose as he spoke.

“Ah—yes!”

Hoeun moved to follow—but as his ankle throbbed, his body pitched forward.

“Ah…”

Floundering, he grabbed Taemuk’s hem without thinking—and then froze. He lifted his eyes in halting breaths. Taemuk looked down at him. Hoeun blurted an answer though he hadn’t been asked:

“I’m fine.”

“What’s fine?”

It was an unexpected question. Confusion rose on Hoeun’s clear face.

“Sir? Ah, i-it’s just—just all fine.”

Afraid he might be asked more, he hastily stepped into the grasses.

“Sh-shall we go?”

His ankle still throbbed, but he bit it back. He mustn’t be sick. Sickness was a burden. If he was sick, he was useless. He repeated it inwardly—yet Taemuk clicked his tongue and muttered,

“What a nuisance… and such a noble on top of it.”

“…”

Hoeun went rigid at that. He paled in an instant and drooped his head like a guilty man.

“I’m sorr—uwaah!”

He had meant a sincere apology—but suddenly Taemuk hoisted him up. Startled, Hoeun threw his arms around Taemuk’s neck.

“G-General?”

“…”

Without explanation, Taemuk began to push through the grasses. Hoeun, at a loss, hunched his neck, curled his shoulders, let go of Taemuk—then held on again—until at last he simply entrusted himself fully to him.

He figured it must be easier to carry him than to lead him while he lagged, limping.

“…”

Held in the arms of the tall Taemuk, the grasses that had seemed so high now met his line of sight. He could see the night sky, and distant mountains, and the moon in full. Gazing at them as his eyes rolled lazily, Hoeun leaned slightly on Taemuk’s shoulder.

His ribbon gently tickled the back of the hand supporting him. Each time, Taemuk’s brow furrowed and then smoothed—but Hoeun didn’t notice.

Hoeun wiggled his submerged foot. The water was so cold his toes had gone numb. He wanted to pull it out at once, but Taemuk had made a terrifying remark about wrenching his ankle off if he took it out without permission—so he held still.

Looking down at his foot slowly freezing, Hoeun glanced around. Pushing through the grasses, Taemuk had brought him not to the tent but to a river.

It was a fairly wide river, tucked away secretly among the thick grass. The current wasn’t as strong as a mountain stream; there was hardly any sound—just a faint scent of water. The river, full of moonlight, was like a great mirror.

It was, in its way, a peaceful scene.

How had Taemuk known there was a river here? Had he been here before? Or had he found it as he moved from place to place dealing with monsters?

Hoeun looked forward. Unlike himself, who sat on the riverbank, Taemuk had gone into the water to wash. He had stripped his uniform and was bare, but with his body submerged to the waist it was less embarrassing to see.