The lights of Gaegyeong's city were pushing the night upward.Standing on the high ground of the mountain, I looked down at that glow and let out a long breath without realizing it. It was a return after a long absence. The mere fact that I had come back was enough to unsettle my heart. Restless was far too small a word. Countless branching paths of time seemed to overlap and scatter, as if they had barely managed to bring me to this single point. Had even one moment gone astray, this body of mine would no longer exist anywhere in the world.
Where should I begin this story?What was it that made us who we are now?
Was it the war? Yes—war was the beginning. And yet, even that war had nothing to do with me at first.
My father fell in battle, and my elder brother took his place in military service. In families granted military land, it is not unusual for one member to serve in another's stead. A Goryeo soldier—though not all—can at least be spared the worry of daily sustenance while defending the state. In return, the right to collect revenues from military land passes to the eldest son. Within that order, I had always stood one step aside.
After the war ended, news arrived that my brother was missing. And then, naturally, it was my turn.
I had received basic military training, and I had never neglected martial practice. I knew the fundamentals of the native sword methods and the Joseon-style techniques; I was competent in subak as well. In wrestling and taekkyeon, I was not inferior to my peers. My mounted skills were somewhat lacking, but that was due to the absence of a horse, not a lack of aptitude. I could ride well enough. With the lance especially, when I borrowed the strength of the horse to wield a long weapon, I would sometimes fall under the illusion that I was invincible.
There was nothing lacking in my going to the army in my father's place—and in my brother's.
Except for one thing. I had never thought my father's military duty would reach me. I had already been preparing for a different life.
At fifteen, being the second son alone was enough to force early sobriety. I worked at a merchant guild in Gaegyeong, doing menial tasks while learning the trade. I intended to find my future there. My father's death and my brother's disappearance were not opportunities to me.
Lord Wang Pil-sun, the head of the guild, showed particular favor toward me despite my youth. Each time I handled an assignment well, he never treated it as something to be taken for granted. He often used the word investment. He looked at me with an eye toward the future. Perhaps I alone believed this to be true. But at least at the time, I thought his affection sincere. More than once, he spoke of the "value" of my existence.
It was when I brought news of my brother and told him that I would have to depart for the Liaodong campaign. Lord Wang said nothing—he simply pulled me into an embrace. After standing like that for a moment, he looked at me carefully and told me to wait. Then he handed me a silk-lined inner armor.
"Neither arrows nor blades can pierce it. When I was young, it saved my life once."
I immediately shook my head."I cannot accept something so precious from you, sir."
Lord Wang smiled faintly."It is too small for me now. It suits you better, going to the battlefield. If it saves your life even once, that will be enough."
He personally removed my robe and fitted the armor beneath it. Though I was only fifteen, I was not small of frame, yet it fit with uncanny precision. Lord Wang was delighted, saying the treasured armor had found its rightful owner.
He gave me another gift as well—a curved saber. He said it was something he had used in his youth and that it had grown short for him now. His face was that of a man who wished to place anything into the hands of one departing for war. How could I ever forget that expression?
"Come back alive. No matter what."
I knelt and rendered a soldier's salute. Lord Wang hurried forward and raised me to my feet.
Then he embraced me once more, without a word.That farewell—I have carried it with me all my life.
The items I received that day saved my life many times thereafter. Though young, I inherited my father's role without alteration. My father had been a powerful arbalest gunner, a man who handled a great crossbow too heavy for a single person to lift with ease. In the Goryeo army, sixty to seventy percent of the formation consisted of archers. People often imagine small short bows, but that is a misunderstanding. Short bows were carried by all soldiers, regardless of specialty.
Goryeo archers handled many kinds of bows. Among them, my father operated the no—the heavy crossbow—manned by a two-person team. It shot the farthest, struck with the greatest force, and was the heaviest of all. For that reason, it was always loaded onto horses or wagons; no one could carry it far on foot. Because of its weight, the unit departed first, and maintaining a pace that kept the formation intact was the greatest responsibility of the officers who oversaw the march.