Chapter 99. To the Yongho Army
He meant to grab something to eat and move on, but there was no room for that.
He left a brief word—take care, nothing happens—and went to find Park Geunsu.
At the Signal Guard, he was told Park had been promoted to the Two Armies*.
*The Two Armies were divided into the Eungyang Army (鷹揚軍) and the Yongho Army (龍虎軍), the monarch's personal guards.
They ranked above the Six Guards, and within the Two Armies the Eungyang Army stood first, the Yongho Army second.
He went to the Yongho Army.
Even at a late hour, Park was still at work.
"Well, well—look who it is. The heroes of Seonchunryeong!"
Park Geunsu spread his arms wide and strode over to greet them.
"Sir! We've been granted leave."
"Rest, both of you. You've come a long way. It's cold out there, isn't it."
They clasped hands, feeling the warmth of an old comrade.
"It's colder here."
"Heh, it is. Competition's fierce here. What makes this place hard and heavy isn't lifting burdens. It's competition. Too many hands reaching for too little. Food, clothing, houses, pleasures, drink, positions, rank—there's less of all of it than there are people."
Yeong-u narrowed his eyes.
Now that this man had risen, he spoke like Lee Huisong used to.
A thought crossed his mind—did everyone start to sound the same once they climbed high enough?
Was that how it went?
This urge to explain everything in one's own terms—it was no more than a stubborn insistence that others should understand things your way.
Truth, and the laws that govern it, did not need another man's explanation.
Yeong-u waved a hand.
"That's too much. Keep it simple."
"Heh, fine. Come in. You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten since the afternoon.
Kim Busik's house looked wealthy enough, but they'd served only clear tea—cup after cup—and nothing else.
They'd meant to eat in Jeojeon before parting, but the brawl had ruined even that.
"That's right. I haven't had a thing."
Park led them into his office and shouted,
"Three bowls of pork soup!"
The sentry at the door snapped his heels together and barked,
"Sir! Three bowls of pork soup!"
Yeong-u frowned.
"You make your subordinates do even that?"
"I do. Otherwise we don't get a meal at all."
"You could go out to eat."
"If we go out, half the day's gone."
"You're that busy?"
Yeong-u couldn't quite grasp it.
It wasn't wartime urgency, nor did the duties seem overwhelming.
"That's right. I'm not efficient—that's why I'm busy. If I were better at the work, I'd have more time."
"You're being modest."
Inside, several officers were working.
They were so busy that greetings were exchanged in passing.
Park sat down and swept a pile of documents aside.
Sheets overlapped, scrolls mixed in, and he shoved them all away with one broad arm.
He pointed to a drum-like seat in front of him, and the two sat.
"How have you been?"
His voice carried an easy warmth—like an older brother next door.
"The Jurchen and the Liao clashed. Twice."
"I heard."
"We broke them at Yeonggangju, and crushed them completely at Chulhajeom."
"Well done. They needed a lesson. Those bastards charge ahead in any weather."
"Do they?"
"They strut around calling themselves emperors. They learned their place after taking a beating from us, so they behave in front of Goryeo. But toward the Song, they cling on and puff themselves up."
It was distant talk.
Even truths that felt immediate and urgent in the first person flattened when heard in the third.
The edges dulled.
"Any wounded? I heard the fighting was fierce."
"We were fully armored."
At the mention of armor, Park paused.
That was not something easily done.
"New equipment?"
"What?"
"A new kind of armor—something that didn't exist before."
Yeong-u gave a small, knowing smile.
"You see right through it."
"How did you manage it? No injuries at all."
"Iron Buddha Cavalry."
"I know it—the Jurchen heavy cavalry."
"You do?"
"It's old. Same lineage as Goguryeo's Gaemamusa. 'Armored horse'—both rider and mount clad in armor. They use lamellar armor, small iron plates bound together with leather thongs, covering both man and horse. Only the eyes are left exposed. Arrows glance off. They charge straight into the enemy lines. With long lances—three, four meters—they maximize impact. Shock cavalry, meant to smash through the center."
He had grown sharper in Kaegyeong.
Or perhaps he had always been this sharp, waiting for the chance to show it.
"I see."
"Everything but the eyes—both horse and rider in thick armor."
Yeong-u nodded.
"That's right. The Iron Buddha Cavalry."
Park pressed on,
"How many? Fully armored?"
"At Chulhajeom—twelve hundred."
Park's eyes widened.
Numbers carried weight.
He understood what twelve hundred meant on a battlefield.
"That's a lot. Wanyan made up his mind, then."
"Why do you say that?"
"Do you know what it costs to maintain a force like that? This kind of information should have come sooner."
"Why?"
"Because it shifts the balance. The number changes everything. Liao will have a hard time."
Yeong-u asked,
"Liao has them too."
"You saw them?"
"In this battle."
"Then why couldn't they use them?"
"They were slow. Their movement stalled. They stood in place."
"Mobility decides it in the end."
Park began reconstructing the Battle of Chulhajeom as if writing a military chronicle.
As Yeong-u wrote and asked questions, the soup arrived.
"Let's eat and talk."
The bowls were set down.
The three gathered around.
Yeong-u and Gyeongtaek dug in at once.
"You're not going home?"
"Not until the work's done."
"What keeps you this busy?"
"I think every document I write protects the state. I won't treat it lightly."
Yeong-u felt the weight of that conviction.
People spoke of loyalty—but in the end, most looked to their own safety first.
The pork soup, simmered all night, was clear and rich, the offal softened like greens.
"It's good."
Park grinned.
"This place does it best."
"They deliver, too?"
"They don't—but I pay extra and make them. We don't have time to go out."
"That's impressive."
"To get the information you just gave me, we sent men north several times. About thirty in total. We had to find out how you won, why the gap in strength appeared."
"That much effort?"
"If the Jurchen turn on us, we're finished."
"They won't. They're men of honor."
"They are. But if we lose ours… their honor becomes useless."
"You mean they might side with Liao?"
"We've had offers."
Yeong-u had heard as much at Kim Busik's house.
He had also heard it had been refused.