… So be it then…,” he repeated, as though he needed to convince himself.
Inspector Han reached for his own sword as he took a step back, and I thought he would dash through the trees for safety. But instead he turned his head, ever so slightly, and whispered to his horse, “Get her away from here.” Then he slapped its rear flank.
Everything happened so quickly I couldn’t tell what was occurring. The glint of the inspector’s own blade, flashing bright. The neighing horse, eyes wide. The whirring of leaves and the landscape passing quickly by me.
Exhaustion lay thick in my mind, making it difficult to think, but whatever sense remained swam through and clung to a steadying thought: it was not the inspector alone in the woods, but my brother. The boy who had carried me on his back through the eastern torrent, the boy who had spent most of his days memorizing Confucian classics or writing poems. He was determined to fight Officer Shim, an expert swordsman.
I slapped my cheek. “Wake up, Seol. Wake up.” Another slap, firmer this time, and the pain struck awake a moment’s clarity. I swung myself forward and reached for the reins, nearly falling off, having barely any strength left to hold on to the saddle horn. I tried again, and once the reins touched my fingertips, I held them tight and then dragged myself upright.
We steered around and tore through the blue mist, and the wind gathered around me. Grief wailed and echoed off the peaks of the soaring trees. Snow lining the pines shook and fell to the ground. The forest parted for me, the fog parted for me.
I would not lose my brother. I would not lose him a second time.
“Wait for me,” I whispered through my clenched teeth. “Please, wait for me.”
The moment I neared the sound of clashing blades, I climbed off the horse and fell onto all fours. My left shoulder throbbed as I crawled, my feet too frozen to walk, and all the while, I searched for anything—a stick, a stone, anything—to fight with. But nothing solid touched my searching hands.
“Did our friendship mean nothing?”
At the sound of Officer Shim’s voice, I peered through the swaying branches and saw Inspector Han lunge forward, his sword striking Shim’s with a resounding clang that turned into a grinding noise as blade pushed against blade. Shim managed to parry away, yet Inspector Han was faster, dashing forward and gaining enough momentum to leap and turn, wielding his sword in an orbit that slashed across Shim’s arm. A ribbon of blood arced into the sky.
For the longest moment afterward, the two men stood opposite each other, puffs of clouds forming before their lips like smoke.
Shim touched his wounded arm, then looked up. “I used to think of you as a brother.”
“I still think of you as my friend, my only friend for more than a decade.” Sweat trickled down Inspector Han’s wrist as he gripped his sword tighter, his eyes glistening bright. “But while I will follow a friend when he is good, if he chooses evil, I will abandon him.”
“Good and evil depends on which side you are on.” With this, Officer Shim lunged into the darkness. Something had uncoiled in him, letting loose the ruthlessness that had slit a woman’s throat, drowned a man, and strangled his own mother. His sword swung, but Inspector Han dodged, spinning away as his robe billowed around his legs. A breath of relief escaped me, seeing the inspector safe now, anchored on his feet with his sword at the ready.
“Just like your father,” Shim hissed. “A traitor.”
He came whirling back, swinging his sword with the force of an ax striking a log, a swing that knocked the sword out of Inspector Han’s grasp and sent him hurtling into a tree. A loud thud, and chips of bark flew off.
Get up, Inspector. The plea pounded in me as I wondered what to do—me, a weaponless girl against a sword-wielding tiger. Please, Inspector.
Inspector Han grabbed his sword and leaned his weight on the hilt as he struggled back upright. But he wasn’t quick enough. Officer Shim’s blade gleamed as it slashed through the air and swiped the inspector’s side.
Time slowed. Every expression that moved across Inspector Han’s face—disbelief, hurt, dawning realization—passed slowly. He reached down and held his side. A rivulet of blood streamed down his knuckles, the flow nearly black in the fading moonlight. The pain weakened his legs and he collapsed to the