Chapter  23  The Carnage

The ribbon lay on his palm, bright red, its bow, slightly out of shape, and unravelling a little, so that the two long strips of soft silk that diverged, and trailed down from the bow did not fit in length anymore, and one was longer than the other; the silk was puckered a little at the edges, where his sword had caught at the thread, so that they formed a tight cluster of waves, and were no longer smooth and even, as they had been when she had pinned it on her braid that day, before he had so brutally cut it off with his sword, a butcher's son hacking at that beautiful braid with his butcher's sword, wielded in his coarse, dirty, ugly, butcher's hands.

A jolt of pain shot through him when he remembered the look on her face, of bewilderment and horror and shock; she had stood there, stunned, frozen, unable to comprehend, unable to believe that he had done what he had done, that he had committed a terrible, terrible, unforgivable act.

You should not have saved me that day in the carriage. You should not have saved me and filled me with false hope; for it was your act of saving me that filled me with false hope, that led to this day, that led to this terrible act.

He gripped the ribbon tight, and clenched his fist over it, so tightly that the veins on his hand stood out, and bulged against the wiry, hardened, battle-worn skin; slowly, he raised that hand that clutched the precious treasure, so that it lay, and rested against his lips. He closed his eyes, and with his other hand, he lifted the other edge of the ribbon, so that it touched, lingered, against his closed lids, allowing it to trail sensuously, silkily, across both of his lids; first, one, and then, the other, and then released it, so that it slid down his face, cascaded down his face, and he could feel the softness, the silkiness of it, fluttering like whimsical, gossamer butterfly wings, fluttering, rippling, gliding over his skin. He caught it fiercely in his hands, and pressed it longingly, yearningly, against his face, and inhaled; a whiff of a subtle fragrance weaved itself dreamily, beguilingly, into his senses, swirling around his senses, intoxicating him, so that he was overcome, overwhelmed; and he imagined her maid washing that long, long hair, smoothing in fine perfumed oils and exotic fragrant flowers, and patting it dry with a thick, woollen towel; brushing it downward with long, strong , over and over, until it shone, and shimmered, then braiding it lovingly, reverently, into that thick, impossibly long braid, inserting the hairpins gently, carefully, so that they would not prick her delicate skin, and finally, tying the red ribbon over the braid, the perfect finishing touch to a thing of beauty.

He opened the drawer, and laid the ribbon on top of the pile of shopping lists, next to the coin that she had given him.

Then he closed it.

Lord Go Sa Hong was in a towering rage.

Dong Mae came out, and bowed.

The old man did not bow back; instead, he grabbed a straw broom resting at the side, and proceeded to beat Dong Mae with it. He rained blows on Dong Mae's head, and back, while Dong Mae stood, and made no attempt to deflect the blows.

Finally, Lord Go threw the broken broom aside, and breathing heavily, said, "That is for what you did to my granddaughter. Be thankful that I did not kill you."

Eugene walked in, as the old man stalked off. 

"I heard what you did," he said drily. "May I ask why you did it?"

"Lord Lee Wan Ik is closing in on Lady Ae Shin. I intercepted a telegram from the Chief of Police of Tokyo; it had a list of names of Joseon citizens who had lived in Japan thirty years ago, and her parents' names were on the list."

Dong Mae and Eugene looked at each other, grim-faced.

Hee Sung rushed in, and headed straight for Dong Mae, raining punches on his face, his body, and his back while Eugene stood, and stared.

"That is for what you did," Hee Sung yelled, and ran off, before Dong Mae could retaliate.

Lord Go was not allowed to rest for long after his release from prison. A group of soldiers led by Lord Lee Wan Ik came to his mansion. Lord Lee announced that the new railroad would be cutting through the land on which Lord Go's mansion stood; the house would be demolished, and the land taken over by the Government. Lord Go, his family and his servants were ordered to vacate the premises as soon as possible, or face dire consequences. The soldiers proceeded to hack at the wall that surrounded the property, leaving rubble in their wake.

That night, Dong Mae had a visitor. 

It was a servant from the Go household, and he had come with an important message: Lord Go Sa Hong had summoned Gu Dong Mae to his residence to tell him something of the utmost importance, which could not wait.

Dong Mae was ushered by the servant into the Go mansion, and to his surprise, Eugene was there, as well.

Lord Go sat at his desk.

"Gentlemen, I thank both of you for coming. I need your help," he said.

"As you know, Lee Wan Ik has cast his eye on me, and my family; we are in danger, every minute, every hour. We have been ordered to vacate the premises, or face the consequences. I care not what happens to me, but I worry for my family, and my servants."

He leaned forward, and said, "I worry for my granddaughter, and she is the reason why I have summoned both of you today."

Turning to Eugene, he said, "I would like to make a request: that you kill the Japanese general, Takashi Mori."

Eugene stared at him.

"Why me?" he asked. "Why not him?" He indicated Dong Mae sitting beside him.

"He will protect her in any way possible, while you will protect her in the fastest, cleanest way possible."

"That is the reason why one came over the wall, and the other came in through the front door."

"A Joseon man cannot kill a Japanese man; but an American man can kill a Japanese man."

"Why not kill Lee Wan Ik?" Eugene asked.

"A Joseon man can only be killed by his own kind," Lord Go said.

Dong Mae had another visitor late that night. It was the servant from the Go household who had been reporting to him on Lady Ae Shin's affairs.

"I came to deliver this to you " he said. "It is a receipt from Lord Go for the payment of funds to the Righteous Army."

The servant looked mournful

"Lord Go has given plots of land to all of the servants, except me, and freed them from ," he said, looking angry. "They said that they knew that I had been reporting on the Go family to devious parties who were plotting to bring about the downfall of the Go family, and that I was a miserable disgrace, and a traitor, and that I had to leave, at once."

"And so I saw this receipt on his desk, and I took it. I did well, did I not?" he said, rubbing his hands, expectant of the huge sum of money that he would undoubtedly be rewarded with by the smiling swordsman.

"You did well," said Dong Mae, and stood up, drew his sword, and slashed him across the front of his body.

The servant fell, dead.

Outside, the old manservant watched silently.

Dong Mae stalked out with his bloodied sword, and stopped when he saw the old man.

The old man bowed to him.

"I thank you, sir. I wanted to kill him myself, but the American said that I was to send him on his way, and that someone would kill him for me."

"He is dead," Dong Mae said. "Rest assured; he is dead, and his knowledge dies with him."

The next morning, Joseon woke up to the news that Lord Go Sa Hong was dead; he had died in his sleep.

All of Joseon mourned his passing. The King of Joseon came to the Go mansion, and knelt in front of his altar, and prayed for his soul.

The funeral procession marched slowly along the streets, family members, and relatives, crying and stumbling with desolate steps, which halted when they saw the cordon of Japanese soldiers on horseback in the distance, a silent, watchful wall of men with rifles slung across their backs, staring with empty eyes and blank faces at the group of mourners, dressed in grey, the tears fresh, and still flowing over their faces, their mouths open in shock, and their faces filled with dread and fear, and a dawning horror; and Lord Lee Wan Ik at the helm, smiling, removing his black-rimmed round spectacles, and wiping them carefully with a clean snowy-white handkerchief from his pocket, before putting them back on his face, and looking up, directly, coldly, at the mourners; he raised his hand, and brought it down sharply, and the soldiers surged forward on their horses, beating at the mourners with sticks, kicking at them, stamping on the mourners who had fallen on the ground.

The mourners ran for their lives, in every direction, and still, the soldiers would not stop, but came at them; beating, kicking, stamping, crushing, with a viciousness and a fury that Joseon had never seen before, until they lay, broken, battered, crushed, upon the ground.

The surviving members of the family fled.

Lady Ae Shin vanished without a trace that day.

The Go mansion lay in shambles; there was nothing left, but a pile of rubble, and a cluster of broken ruins, and darkness...

49 days had passed since the carnage at the funeral of Lord Go Sa Hong.

The Japanese waited for Lady Ae Shin to show up; General Takashi was confident that she would appear at the temple in Jemulpo.

And so they waited at the temple; the relatives, and servants came, and still, there was no sign of her.

A shot rang out, and all of a sudden, the soldiers opened fire on the defenceless relatives, who fell; some tried to run, but were shot in their backs, while others who had not tried to run were shot, and killed where they stood.

Hee Sung was trying his best to protect a servant, when a shot rang out, and a soldier fell, dead, at his feet.

He looked up.

There, on the rooftop, a black figure perched.

It was her; there was no doubt about it. It was her, and she had returned, not as Lady Go Ae Shin, but as Ae Shin, soldier, skilled shooter, and member of the Righteous Army.

She had returned, just in time, to save his life.

He felt overwhelming relief, and joy fill his being.

She was alive.

Nothing else mattered, but that.