Chapter  12  The Blackbird with Clipped Wings

Yujo and his men burst into the doctor's office, carrying a bloodied Dong Mae between them, Hee Sung following closely behind.

"This man has been shot!" Yujo yelled. "You have to operate on him at once!"

Carefully, they lowered him onto a bed.

Dr. Machiyama examined Dong Mae, and grimaced at the blood that was oozing out from two bullet wounds at his side.

"I would need to operate on him at once," he said. "He is losing a lot of blood."

"Prepare him for surgery," he turned to the nurse.

Dong Mae gripped the doctor's arm, and said, very clearly, "No."

Yujo rushed forward. "You have been shot. You need to be operated on at once."

Hee Sung leaned toward Dong Mae, and said urgently, "You need surgery, now, immediately."

"I will not have that man," he pointed a shaking finger at the doctor, "operate on me. He will likely administer a lethal dose of anesthesia, and kill me. He is in league with Lee Wan Ik."

"But you need to have the bullets taken out," Yujo said worriedly.

"Take them out," Dong Mae said, summoning his remaining strength, "but no anesthesia."

He lay back against the pillow, and closed his eyes, his face white as a sheet, his breathing laboured. "Watch him carefully, and if I die, kill him."

The doctor blanched.

Dong Mae bit hard into a thick wad of towel rolled up, and placed between his teeth, the veins on his face and forehead bulging in pain, as the doctor cut into his flesh. Dimly, he heard the sound of the first bullet, followed a short while later by the sound of the second bullet striking the pan held by the nurse, and the doctor saying, "They are out" before he lost consciousness.

The nurse had an errand to run.

Dr. Machiyama had pulled her aside, and quietly slipped an envelope into her hand, nervously glancing around to see whether the armed swordsmen were watching him; but they were tired, resting on the floor, their backs against the wall, forming a tight circle of security around the bed where their leader, Gu Dong Mae, slept fitfully without the solace of painkillers, occasionally and muttering in a jumble of fever and pain.

Hina came face to face with the nurse at the door, and took in the flustered expression on the nurse's face, and the envelope in her hand. 

"I gather that you are in a hurry, to deliver a message to Lord Lee Wan Ik, I suppose?" he glanced casually at the letter.

The nurse pressed the letter into Hina's hand swiftly, saying, "The doctor forced me to."

Hina opened the door to the doctor's office, and closed it softly.

The doctor looked up, his expression hardening when he saw who it was.

"Madam Kudo, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he asked, with a sneer.

"I just came to make sure that my good friend, Gu Dong Mae, is being well taken care of," she smiled, "and that he does not suffer from sudden complications, resulting in his premature death."

"That would be akin to your late husband's sudden demise, Madam," he smirked. 

He opened a drawer, and took out a folded document from an envelope.

"I have the autopsy report of your husband right here, madam," he sniggered. "It would seem that I have the upper hand over you."

Hina smiled wider.

"That would be the fake report, sir," she said softly. "I have the real report with me, unfortunately for you."

Dr. Machiyama read the document, and his face paled.

"It says here that the cause of death is a heart attack, and that no foul play was detected," he said, spluttering, "I did not write this."

"How did you - when did you - ," he broke off, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

"It seems that I have the leverage, doctor," she leaned forward, and murmured, "and not you, so take good care of my friend, or I will come for you, when you least expect it."

The door closed quietly, and the doctor clenched a fist, and smashed it hard against the desk. 

Four incidents that sparked interest, and fear, in Joseon took place while Gu Dong Mae continued his road to recovery in his new peaceful and sterile surroundings, protected day and night by his faithful men, who watched the doctor and nurses with wariness and suspicion, but drew breaths of relief when the doctor surlily announced to them that the patient was out of danger, and would live, but needed time to rest and recuperate.

The first incident was the arrival of Takashi Mori, the new general of the Japanese Colonial Forces. He was a bespectacled, intelligent-looking man, who looked as if he would be more at home with books and tomes than riding high on a black horse, cantering slowly, and smilingly, through the streets of Hanseong, followed closely behind by an entourage of Japanese soldiers in uniform, some on horses, and others on foot, soldiers who rode, and marched silently, with cold eyes and blank faces. Indeed, the only soldier who smiled, and looked cheerful was General Takashi, but he was no ordinary soldier; for he was a general, and an aristocrat from the Mori family, the second richest, and the second most powerful family in Japan, after the Emperor of Japan.

The second incident was the arrest of Miss Stella, the American, who had set up an English Language School in Hanseong. Word spread that Japanese soldiers, armed with rifles, had entered the school grounds, and forcibly taken Miss Stella away, on suspicions that she had been conspiring against Japan. 

The third incident was the ransacking of Lord Go Sa Hong's mansion by Japanese soldiers led by General Takashi, who was investigating all the students of Miss Stella, the American instructor. Lady Ae Shin had been the most notable student at the language school, being a noblewoman, and had fallen under suspicion as well. The American, Eugene Choi, had intervened, and had stopped anything further from happening by declaring that the American Consulate would investigate all the students, including Lady Ae Shin, and had effectively warned General Takashi against apprehending her. What was even more shocking was that General Takashi and Captain Eugene Choi appeared to know each other, and had addressed each other familiarly, in Korean, no less! Whether they were friends or not, the servants could not tell, for beneath the superficial cordiality, they could not help but sense the simmering tension between the two men.

The fourth incident was shocking; Lord Go Sa Hong and a group of well-respected young scholars had assembled at, and knelt in front of the palace in a protest. They had let down their hair so that it flowed over their shoulders, and dressed in white robes, and appealed to the King of Joseon, King Gojong, to stop the exploitation of Joseon by Japan, to protect the sanctity of Joseon and preserve five hundred years of Joseon history. "Siding with Japan would destroy Joseon, and the people of Joseon, please hear us, Your Majesty," Lord Go beseeched in a stirring and strident voice that belied his age, his cry echoed by the scholars in one reverberating, resounding voice. Lord Go was ready to die for his stance, as indicated by the axe that he had laid on the ground before him. But the protest was cut short by the arrest of the protestors; the royal guards led by the Head of Palace Security, Seung Gu, newly appointed by the King of Joseon, hustled them off to prison, where they remained under lock and key, but unharmed. Some speculated that the King had ordered their arrests to protect them, and keep them from harm's way; after all, it was common knowlede that Lord Go had been the personal tutor of His Majesty, and that he was held in high regard by the King of Joseon, and indeed, by the entirety of the royal family of Joseon.

The mists lifted slowly, and Dong Mae woke to see Hotaru lying against his arm, her tears wetting it.

"Hey," he said, weakly, and her head slowly with an unsteady hand that shook slightly.

She looked up, and her eyes opened wide, blazing with joy.

She took his hand in hers, and lay her cheek against his palm, crying, her tears drenching his hand, and his sleeve.

"It is all right; I am all right. Do not cry," he whispered gently, feeling her fingers gripping his hand tightly, so tightly, as if she would never let go.

Finally, she got up, and ran out of the room.

Yujo and the men came running in, relief and happiness in their eyes to see Dong Mae awake, finally.

"Feed her," he said to Yujo.

Hotaru was so painfully, so heartbreakingly thin that it hurt him to look at her.

Yujo nodded, and said, "She would not eat; she refused to leave your bed, for fear that you would be killed. She has suffered with you, my brother; all of us have."

There were tears in Yujo's eyes.

Dong Mae reached out his hand, and laid it on Yujo's shoulder.

"I know," he said, his heart full.

Who was he to deserve such love, such devotion? He felt humbled, and thankful, that he had lived, if only to realize how much they loved him, how devoted they were to him. It warmed his heart, and it moved him. 

"What has been happening while I was away?"

"Many things happened," said Yujo, his face worried. He proceeded to tell him about all the incidents that had happened in Hanseong.

"I believe that the American woman was apprehended because of Lady Ae Shin, and that the Go mansion was searched because of Lord Go. Lord Go and Lady Ae Shin are in danger." 

Dong Mae frowned.

"What of the person who shot you? Do you know who it was?" asked Yujo.

"It was the soldier from the Righteous Army, the man that we freed. I saw his face."

Hee Sung was the next visitor to be received by Dong Mae. He beamed when he saw Dong Mae sitting up in bed, surly and scowling, and frustrated with not being able to walk a few steps without being overcome by tiredness and breathlessness.

"I am delighted to find you looking hale and hearty, sir," Hee Sung grinned, and slapped him heartily on the back, causing Dong Mae to grimace with pain.

"I saved your life, but you do not have to thank me," Hee Sung grinned. "Seeing you up and about is thanks enough."

"I was not going to thank you," scowled Dong Mae. "Seeing you makes me feel unwell again."

"I am about to leave soon," Hee Sung said, and looked grim, suddenly. "Joseon is not well, and I have taken it upon myself to write about the sickness that is spreading, like a scrouge, in my newspaper."

Both of the men were silent for a while.

Hee Sung rose to his feet.

"I will take my leave," he smiled. "I will be waiting eagerly for the drink that you will no doubt offer to me when you are well again."

Dong Mae looked at him, and said, very seriously, "Be careful, and be aware that your newspaper may be more powerful than my sword or the American's gun, and that friendly, and unfriendly eyes, are reading your special editions."

"I would say the same thing to you, my friend: be careful," Hee Sung smiled, and headed for the door.

"I am not your friend," Dong Mae said, but he spoke without rancour, and there was a slight smile upon his lips, as the door closed, and the room darkened, and fell into silence again.

Dong Mae was well enough to be discharged soon, and was resting when he received two visitors, the Chief of Police and the Post Office clerk.

"I have just received this telegram from the Chief of Police of Tokyo, delivered to me by the Post Office clerk," the Chief of Police said. 

"We came to you at once, and not Lord Lee Wan Ik," said the Post Office clerk.

"It contains a list of names of all Joseon citizens who had lived in Japan thirty years ago," the Chief of Police said, handing the telegram to Dong Mae respectfully.

Dong Mae scanned the telegram, then froze; in the list were two names:

GO SANG WAN

HEE JIN

Ae Shin's parents.

News came of the release of Lord Go Sa Hong and the scholars. They had been pardoned by the king, and were free to return home.

The news spread quickly through the streets of Hanseong, and the townsfolk were relieved; Lord Go was an upright man, a man of integrity and honour, even though the news of the ending of the betrothal between his granddaughter, Lady Ae Shin, and Lord Kim Hee Sung, heir and scion of Lord Kim An Pyung, was still fresh on everyone's lips. It was Lady Ae Shin who would suffer more, they whispered to one another; poor lady, who knew that Lord Kim Hee Sung would turn out to be such a philanderer? He had kept a Japanese woman as a mistress in Japan, whispered another, and had no doubt ended the betrothal because of her; everyone sighed, and agreed that poor Lady Ae Shin was doomed to live as a failed woman henceforth, and would probably spend the remainder of her life bitter and alone.

The carriage rumbled along the narrow street, and came to a halt.

A group of swordsmen stood in the middle of the street, blocking it, so that the carriage could not move forward.

Ae Shin opened the side window.

"What is the matter? Why have we stopped?" she asked the footman.

"My lady, a group of men are blocking it; they will not let us pass " the nervous footman answered.

Her maid got down, and visibly paled at the sight of Gu Dong Mae stalking toward the carriage.

"My lady, it is that butcher's boy, that Gu Dong Mae, what are we going to do?" she wailed, wringing her hands.

Dong Mei's men ordered the maid and the footmen to stand aside as Dong Mei approached the carriage.

Dong Mei opened the door of the carriage, and offered his hand to help Ae Shin out. She ignored it, and brushed past him, lifting her skirts as she stepped out of the carriage.

They faced each other, as a crowd of onlookers gathered.

"What is the meaning of this outrage?" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger. "Why do you block my carriage?"

He looked at her, and, unseen to her, his hands clenched tightly around his sword, in an attempt to maintain some semblance of self-control.

His heart was beating fast, and he could not breathe properly, but he fought to keep his voice calm and emotionless, and steeled his heart against the anger in her eyes.

He spoke, and he knew that he had lost the battle to remain calm the moment the words came out between his lips, his teeth biting down hard on them, to stop them from speaking, but to no avail; because he heard his voice speaking, shaking, and the words tumbling over one another, so fast, so furious, like a fool's speech, disjointed and inchoherent, the ravings of a madman, bursting out, exploding in an untrammelled torrent, hot and impulsive, unimpressive, laughable.

His foolish heart had taken over his rational, logical mind, and it was exploding with worry, and yearning, and fear for her, so that the words burst forth from his lips, tripping over, falling over themselves, in a desperate bid to say what had to be said, uncaring of what she thought of him, uncaring of what the world thought of him.

"Why do you make dangerous choices? Why did you end your betrothal? Why are you holding a gun? Why? Why? Why?" he cried, his voice agonized. "Stop going to school. Stop learning English. Stop going to the palace. Stop asking questions."

He stopped, and drew a sharp, shuddering intake of breath.

His face was pale and set, but his eyes were deep, deep pools of torture and misery.

He spoke, again, and this time, his voice was a pained whisper.

"I want to protect you, but it is getting harder and harder."

His eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

"Please live as a noblewoman, cosetted, and safe; I beg you," his voice shook.

"I make my own choices," she said, her eyes steely. "I made my choice long ago, when I saved you, when you were a boy, and when I let you live, in Jemulpo, and I would make the same choices all over again, without a thought."

"I have no need of your protection; I will protect myself."

He  drew his sword from its scabbard. His hands were shaking.

"You can hate me all that you want; the whole world can hate me all that it wants, but if hating me is the only way to keep you safe, then so be it," he said, and lifted his sword.

With one swift motion, he held back her long braid with one hand, and sliced it with his sword with the other.

The braid fell into his open palm, and lay there brokenly, its ends jagged, a hair ribbon the colour of blood floating slowly to the ground.

The crowd gasped.

Ae Shin stared at the braid in his palm, and lifted her eyes to his. They were filled with bewilderment  and horror and shock.

Her eyes darkened with rage, and she lunged forward, and grasped his other sword, tucked at the side of his belt. 

She pointed the gleaming blade at his throat.

The crowd gasped.

A hand emerged, and drew Ae Shin's outstretched arm away.

"No, stop," said Hina. "People are watching. Do not draw more attention to yourself."

Ae Shin put down the sword, shaking.

Hina took the sword from her and handed it back to Dong Mae.

"Even if you stop a blackbird from flying, it will still fly," she said, looking at him. 

He looked at her, and there was sadness in his eyes, such pain, that she flinched, as if she had been struck.

You know why I had to do it, he said to her silently, his eyes filled with silent appeal, lost, like a child's, filled with the horror and the enormity of what he had done, yet bleak, and determined, unwavering and firm in the certainty that his terrible deed had to be done. 

She looked at him with pity, and understanding, in her eyes.

To protect her.

You wanted to protect her.

She looked at him, and there was such warmth, such gentleness in her eyes that he felt comforted.

You did the right thing, her eyes said. You did the only thing that you could have done.

She will understand in time.

She will understand that you had no other choice.

She will understand, and she will forgive you.

In time.

Ae Shin snatched the braid that dangled like a broken toy from Dong Mae's frozen palm.

"Stay away from me," she said, her voice shaking with anger. "Stay away from me, or I will kill you."

Hina led Ae Shin away, her arm placed protectively, comfortingly, around Ae Shin's shoulders.

Dong Mae stared at the red hair ribbon lying on the ground.

He bent down, and picked it up, where it lay, nestled in his palm, all that remained of that long, beautiful, glorious, living braid, another token of her, the saddest yet, to add to his little pile of treasures of her.

Inside the shady confines of a secluded shop, Hina took out a handkerchief and bound it over Ae Shin's hair.

"Why did he do that?" Ae Shin was shaking. "I will never forgive him for doing that."

"He did it to protect you, as always," Hina said drily. "If you cry over a cut braid, how are you going to protect Joseon? Your hair will grow, so think of other things that matter, other things that are more important, to you, to Joseon."

"I do not know what your world is like, but in my world, the three things that are the most precious to me are Joseon, my family, and the hair that my parents gave me, that binds me to them," Ae Shin gritted. "Do not patronise me, and do not disparage me, or belittle the things that matter most, that are the most precious to me."

Hina looked at Ae Shin, and there was a dawning respect in her eyes.