Chapter 25  The Return of the Blackbird

Dong Mae sat at a window at the teahouse.

He tilted the pouch so that the coins poured down in a cascade, catching the light from the morning rays of the sun, and heard the jingle of the coins as they fought with one another to be the first to burrow into his open palm.

She had been gone for a long time.

Minister Lee Jung Moon had disappeared, as well. 

There was talk that he had been taken captive by the Japanese for refusing to sanction the signing of the Japan-Korean Agreement, which had been signed, anyway, by both of the countries; for what could one lone voice do against the deafening roar of the majority? It was a mere whimper, and powerless against the tides of change, that surged inland with more and more powerful waves each day, and had spread their tentacles of havoc and destruction everywhere, and woe befell those who stood in their path and refused to give in, and ride upon the waves of change. 

Minister Lee had stood his ground, and now, he had disappeared.

The Chief of Police had come to Dong Mae the previous night, and said, "Minister Lee Jung Moon has been taken by the Musin swordsmen. Do you know about it?"

"I was not informed of it," Dong Mae said, rubbing his chin, and looking thoughtful.

Later, when the Chief of Police had left, he sat down with Yujo, who looked worried.

"Perhaps I was not informed of it on purpose. Perhaps our chief came back to take charge of these pressing matters himself, because he did not trust me."

"He must have found out that you let the Righteous Army soldier go," Yujo said.

"Yes, my loyalty is now suspect," Dong Mae said.

"But now, I have an urgent matter to attend to," he rose. "I have to protect those that I care about."

He had gone straight to Hina's room, and rapped loudly on the door.

She opened the door, and stared.

"I was about to have a glass of wine," she said. "Would you care to join me?"

"Lord Lee Wan Ik is dead; murdered, in his bed clothes, I hear," he said, giving her a keen look, "and Dr. Machiyama is dead, by his own hand, with the gun that he purportedly used to shoot Lord Lee with."

"I am sorry," he said softly, after a moment, "about your father's demise."

"He was a traitor, and his death, as well as the doctor's are no loss," she shrugged, taking a sip of wine from her glass. "There would be many who would rejoice at their deaths."

"And today, I have been informed that Minister Lee Jung Moon has been taken captive by Musin swordsmen," he said.

She stilled.

" I was contemplating whether or not to kill him myself," she mused.

Dong Mae looked puzzled.

"I gather that he is still alive, or they would not have taken him captive," she said. "You did not know of this?"

He laughed.

"I have fallen out of favour with my chief, it would appear."

"Be careful," Hina said, her face serious.

"I would advise you to exercise caution, as well," Dong Mae said. "There are spies everywhere. They know that you are close to Minister Lee, and the King."

"It is a little late for that," she shrugged. "And now, if you will excuse me, I have an important call to make, to the King."

She lifted the telephone receiver, but he placed his hand over hers.

"Do not do it," he said. "Do not get involved."

She smiled, and gently removed his hand from hers.

"I am already involved," she said, "as are you."

She dialled a number, and said, "Put me through to His Majesty at once. It is a matter of the utmost importance."

He shut the door softly behind him.

Dong Mae gulped down his tea; it was tasteless, and he grimaced. He had used to enjoy drinking the tea here, but now, it had lost its appeal for him.

Time had come to a standstill for him, ever since the day that she had left. He felt as if he was rooted to the same spot every single day, and could neither go forward, nor backward. 

Every morning, he woke up, and went through the motions of living.

Every morning, he woke up, and wondered whether she would return.

Every night, he went to bed, and stared into the dark, and added another day to the days that she had gone missing.

He walked past the French Bakery  and stopped.

He remembered a time from long ago, when she had stood at the very spot that he was standing on now, and lifted her face to the sun, and laughed, filled with candy, her cheeks bulging like a child's. She had laughed with pure joy, and glorious abandonment, uncaring of the onlookers who had stared with shock and disapproval at the public display so unbecoming of a noblewoman.

He smiled to himself, remembering the moment, and looked at the French Bakery, with its shutters drawn, and its racks of cakes and buns and breads, and its trays of pink and white candies missing. All that remained were empty tables, and a chilling silence.

He opened the door, and stilled.

Hotaru was sitting on the chair, her face filled with fear.

Two masked figures were standing next to her, with rifles in their hands aimed straight at her.

The taller of the two pulled down his mask, and turned his rifle on Dong Mae.

It was Hwang Eun San, the potter; Dong Mae was not surprised. Everybody knew now that he was the leader of the Righteous Army, and had led the assault on the temple at Jemulpo where his soldiers had killed every single Japanese soldier, and fled.

The shorter of the two was masked, with a hat pulled low, but he would have recognized those eyes anywhere.

It was her.

He looked into her eyes, and they wavered before his, but she gripped the rifle tighter, and pointed it steadily at him.

"Where is Minister Lee?" Eun San asked. "The Musin Society took him. We have come to find out where they took him."

"My men and I had nothing to do with his disappearance," said Dong Mae. "That is the truth."

"You belong to the Musin Society," Eun San said, his eyes hard. "Tell us, or she dies."

"I have fallen out of favour with them," said Dong Mae. "I let a soldier from the Righteous Army go. They did not tell me anything. I know nothing."

He turned to Ae Shin.

"I thought that we had agreed to meet in person so that you can pay your debt to me," he said.

She looked away.

"I will be waiting for you to keep your promise to me, to pay your debt to me in person," he said, his heart in his eyes, his voice steady. "I will be waiting; no matter how long it takes, I will be waiting."

They looked at each other, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"He knows nothing," Eun San said, looking at Dong Mae with understanding, and a flicker of pity in his eyes. 

"Join us," said Eun San, lowering his rifle. "Join us, and fight for Joseon, fight to free Joseon."

"I cannot," said Dong Mae. "I have pledged my alliegance to the Musin Society; I will continue to serve it until the day that I die."

He lifted his face, and stared Eun San in the eye.

"I understand," Eun San said softly. "Loyalty in a man is an honourable thing, but be careful that that loyalty does not cause you to lose your soul; for when a man loses his soul, he is not a man anymore, but an animal, a savage beast."

And then they were gone; and Hotaru ran to him, crying, trembling, and he held her close  and her head, and soothed her, and whispered words of comfort.

Dong Mae and Eugene sat side by side on the outcrop of rocks, looking out to sea. Night had fallen, and blanketed the surroundings, lit only by the sprinkling of stars, and the lanterns that hung from the fishing boats that drifted on the water, close to the shore. Both of the men showed no signs of restlessness, but instead, sat in silence, and listened to the sound of the waves lapping gently against the shore, lulling their senses into a soothing tranquility.

"I will leave for America soon," Eugene said, "but, first I will stop at Japan, to fulfil a promise that I made."

"There is a festival in Japan, where they set off firecrackers," Dong Mae said. "The sound of the firecrackers is very loud, and it would drown the sound of gunfire."

The two men looked at each other, and a look of understanding passed between them.

"Will she be going with you to Japan?" Dong Mae asked, staring into the distance.

Eugene did not say anything.

"Minister Lee is a captive of the Musin Society, and is likely to be in Japan," Dong Mae said. "But, of course, you already know that."

He stood up.

"I wish you a safe journey," he said.

"Will we meet again?" Eugene asked, looking sad.

Dong Mae laughed.

"I hope that we will not," he grinned.

She was waiting for him at the dojo the next morning.

She was dressed in black, and wore a black hat, pulled low over her eyes, as she had appeared that day when she came, and pointed her rifle at him; the suit hung on her thin frame, shapeless, and worn, with tears on its seams, and frayed on the sleeves, and edges.

It hurt him to see her so thin, the cheekbones on her face standing out in sharp contrast to the hollow cheeks, and the weary eyes with the dark circles of fatigue underneath; and her hands - he drew a sharp intake of breath, and clenched his fists at his sides - they were filled with scars, and callused, red and swollen in parts, and deathly pale in others, and he remembered those hands from that day, a long, long time ago, in the carriage, folded neatly across from where he sat, hands that were smooth, and white, and unblemished; he remembered, and it took all the measure of his self-control to stop himself from railing, from venting his pain, and his grief, and his fear, and his frustration, at the cruelty, the unfairness, the injustice of life, of what it had done to her.

Instead, he looked at her and schooled his face into a blank, expressionless mask.

"I came to bid you farewell," she said, "in person."

"Remember that your next payment is three months from now," he said. "Remember that you have to pay your debt to me in person."

"Remember that I said that I would be willing to kill you the next time that we met," she said, but her eyes were gentle, and there was no malice in her voice.

"And remember that I said this: that a blackbird should not fly too high above - above the rooftops," he said, but he smiled as he spoke the words, even though he faltered a little when he came to the end of his speech, and his eyes were sad. 

Hina walked along the shore.

Behind her, Dong Mae followed.

She stopped, and yelled in anger, "Do not follow me. Leave me alone."

He walked past her, and stood in front of her.

"Shall I walk in front of you, then? Would you like me to carry you on my back?"

She ignored him, and trudged on.

"Hey," he said, and turned her so that she was facing him.

She was crying.

"Hey," he said again, gently. "What is the matter?"

"I visited my mother today in a quiet village, a Catholic village, in Gangwondo."

"You found her?" he said.

"Yes, I found her, in a grave," her voice rose. "She has been there all these years."

"He lied to me; Minister Lee lied to me, all these years. She was dead, and he told me that she was alive, and that I would see her one day."

The tears poured down her cheeks.

"I said that I would kill him for lying to me, but he said that he had to give me that false hope, that that false hope was my reason for living." 

She sank on her knees in the sand, wailing, like a wounded animal dying in agony.

"He said that if he had not given me that false hope, I would have ended it early."

"Both of them are dead; my father, and my mother. I am an orphan now," she wept.

Dong Mae helped her to her feet.

"He was right," he said. "He lied, so that you would live on."

"If he had not lied, if you had known that she had died, you would have given up, a long time ago."

"He saved your life."

"From now on," he said, wiping away her tears gently with his hands, "live as yourself, not as Lee Yan Hwa, not as Kudo Hina, but as a new you."

She clutched at him, her eyes wild.

"Why do you speak as if you would die, as if you would not see me again?" she cried. "Do not die before me, do not leave me; I have no one left in my life, save you."

She flung her arms around his waist, and held him tightly, so tightly that he could feel the deep, shuddering sobs racking her body.

"Do not leave me, promise me that you will not leave me, too," she choked back a sob.

"My dear," he said, her head tenderly. "I am not worthy of you, for you deserve the world, someone who would love you and cherish you with all of his heart and soul. I am just a broken shell, a pale shadow of a man, who has nothing to give to you."

She laid her hand upon his heart, and cried, "I know that inside your heart, she lives; but I would be content, I would be satisfied, with the little affection that is left inside of it, that you have left, to give to me."

"Oh, my dear, my lovely girl," he said sadly, and kissed, first, one hand, and then the other, "you are so beautiful,  so very, very beautiful, and you deserve the best, the finest, the world, and nothing less. You deserve a man who would love you with all of his heart, with all of his soul."

He cradled her face between his palms, and laid his face upon her wet cheek, and said, softly, "It is but an illusion to believe that the little that is left inside this shell of a heart would be enough to sustain you; and you would grow bitter, and sad, and resentful, little by little, day by day."

He lifted her face gently, so that he was gazing into her eyes, and said, "You know, deep down, inside your heart of hearts, that I speak the truth: that the illusion of a lesser love would never hold, but would crumble to dust in the harsh light of reality."

But she continued to weep, and the sound of her broken sobs mingled with the plaintive, mournful howling of the wind, and the crashing of the waves breaking against the shore; and she continued to cling to him, and he continued to hold her close. 

They stayed locked in a sad embrace, lovers that could never be; the woman who had bared her heart, and the man who had given his heart to another.