207.
The Shadow of Heishui
The Jurchen Incursion and the Opening of the Defense of Hwaju
It was the tail end of winter.
The sky over Hwaju was clear, yet the air carried a tension difficult to put into words.
It was because of the Jurchen.
When the Ssangseong Regional Command had stood here, they had not dared to approach.
Now that Goryeo had taken control, they revealed themselves openly.
The snow had melted, and the ground had hardened.
The wind blew only from the north.
A sentry on the watchtower suddenly raised his hand.
"Sir Nangjang, to the north.
Dust is rising."
Park Seongjin stepped to the edge of the battlements and narrowed his eyes.
Shadows that had looked like mere dots on the snowfield slowly took shape.
Horses.
Cavalry.
The riders atop them became visible.
There were several hundred.
Feathers were tied into the manes of their horses, and at the center of the formation a black banner with white characters fluttered.
Black Water.
"Heishui Jurchen," Park Seongjin said.
Nangjang Jonghui clenched his teeth.
"They come without even a pretext."
Park did not look away as he answered quietly.
"Pretexts do not matter to them.
They move on the winds of others."
Jonghui spoke in a low voice.
"It may be Empress Ki's doing.
The Empire cannot move troops openly, so it sends them instead."
That night, the Jurchen sent no envoys.
There were no warnings, no demands.
They simply moved.
They encamped outside the North Gate and began beating northern war drums.
Thud—thud—
The dull iron sound struck the mountain slopes and echoed back.
Their intent was clear.
No explanation.
No negotiation.
Just attack.
"Fire," Park Seongjin ordered.
Arrows rose into the night sky.
Torches flared, banners snapped, and the first clash began.
Jurchen spear-cavalry rode close to the walls, loosing arrows from horseback.
No siege engines appeared.
No ladders.
No battering rams.
They were not obsessed with taking the walls.
They advanced, shot, and withdrew—again and again.
The soldiers of Hwaju remained calm.
Arrows and stones poured down from the walls.
Shields and wooden mantlets absorbed the blows.
A day passed.
Then another.
Then a third.
The attacks continued, but the situation did not change.
The Jurchen failed to scale the walls and simply held their camp.
This was a test.
At dawn each day, Park ordered the collection of arrows beneath the walls.
Bent heads, shattered shafts—each bore the same mark.
He picked one up.
"…Imperial issue."
Jonghui's eyes sharpened.
"From the Empire's armories?"
"Yes."
Park's voice sank.
"These are not weapons Jurchen stragglers could acquire.
Someone opened the way for them."
Jonghui did not ask more.
On the third dawn, the Jurchen suddenly broke camp.
They withdrew without hesitation, as if reaching this point had been their only objective.
Park Seongjin watched the empty snowfield for a long time.
A sense of foreboding crept up his spine.
That night, he sent a memorial to the court.
"Heishui Jurchen forces have entered Hwaju, but the fortress was held and the attack repelled.
However, the enemy's equipment bears the marks of imperial armories, and their backing is therefore suspect."
— Submitted by Nangjang Park Seongjin
Days later, a reply arrived from Gaegyeong.
The king issued commendation.
Yet a private note from Yi In-jung, sent alongside it, contained only one line:
"It is as we expected.
Close the gates and observe.
The court's preparations are not yet complete."
Park Seongjin remained seated long after folding the letter.
Outside the tent, the winter wind lashed against the canvas.
The stench of blood had faded.
The scent of politics had grown colder still.
He lifted his gaze northward again.
Dust was rising once more.
This time it was not a cavalry column.
It was a black blur mixed into the snowstorm.
"They're coming again."
Torches flared along Hwaju's walls.
As the light spread across the battlements, the soldiers took their positions in silence.
The shadow of Heishui descended once more,
carrying a scent that felt all too much like war.
The Battle for Hwaju
The Heishui Jurchen Assault
They followed no fixed rules.
No formation.
No shouted commands.
Instead of unified movement, they scattered, charged like wind, rained arrows, and fled like beasts.
They resembled Yuan cavalry in appearance, yet their nature was different.
Instinct came before discipline.
Sensation before command.
They seemed disorderly, yet they were fast and sharp.
One thing was unmistakable.
They lacked siegecraft.
Before Hwaju's stone walls, they produced no ladders or rams.
They fired from afar and withdrew the moment counterfire began.
"What are they aiming for?" Park asked.
Beside him on the wall, Nangjang Jonghui narrowed his eyes.
Though both now held the same rank, command of Hwaju still rested with Jonghui.
"They're looking for a place that can be crossed.
They're not trying to break the walls.
They want a gap they can open."
They were not strong.
But they knew how to make small numbers appear many times larger.
They tied brush to horse tails to raise dust, hurled stones against cliffs to echo like war cries—
tricks that made the plains seem filled with thousands.
Park gave short orders.
"The warrior units split to the four walls.
Kill only those who climb.
We hold the advantage on the walls."
Before he finished speaking, a rain of arrows poured down from the northern ridge.
The Jurchen surged toward the weaker northern wall.
Each impact against the parapet sent stone dust flying.
Then some twenty men moved at once.
Whirr—!
Iron grapnels flew and caught on the battlements.
Jurchen soldiers swarmed up the ropes, fast and light as spiders.
"…The gate," Park muttered.
Their objective became clear.
Not the wall.
The gate.
A long, piercing whistle cut through the fortress.
The signal from the North Gate reached even the South Gate.
An emergency call from the warrior units.
Twenty picked men sprinted north.
Park Seongjin, guarding the South Gate, mounted his horse.
"To the north!
Follow!"
Hooves thundered over stone.
As they rode, enemy soldiers came into view.
A few had already crossed and were trying to open the inner gate.
Covering fire from beyond the wall struck down one of their men.
"Open the gate!
Open it—!"
A Jurchen warrior charged shouting.
Park leapt from his horse.
His curved blade cut the air.
Steel bit into the man's shoulder, and blood ran down the wall.
"Stop them as they climb!"
The warrior units moved at once.
Ropes were severed.
Men hanging from them screamed as they fell.
Park stabbed the chest of the second climber.
The body hung pinned against the wall, swaying in midair.
Those who had crossed rushed him.
"Hah—!"
He twisted free and swung again.
Two seized his wrist.
The blade fell.
In that instant, the warrior units surged in and butchered them.
A few fled toward the West Gate, trying to lift the bar.
"Close the gate!"
The bar slammed down.
Boom—
The iron gate crashed shut, sealing inside from out.
Breathing hard, Park spoke.
"That's it.
Their trick ends here."
Outside, the Jurchen shouted for a time, then scattered.
Once the gate was closed, they withdrew—
as if this had been the limit of their plan from the start.
Park shook blood from his blade.
"They didn't get through the gate."
"They withdrew too quickly," Jonghui replied.
"It was a test," Park said.
"They were probing us."
He stared north.
A strange scent drifted in the cold—
a faint trace of perfume mixed with iron.
That scent came from only one place.
The Yuan court.
Jonghui's expression hardened.
"This is not a Jurchen war.
It's Empress Ki's revenge.
She's waging war by proxy."
Park rested a hand on the wall.
"They can't take a city.
They have to get inside and open the gates."