[Fic] Fall from Grace - 1/9
Title: Fall from Grace
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R eventually (language, sexual situations)
Pairings: Siwon/Hankyung and Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Genre: AU, historical, romance
Summary: Abducted from the people he protects, Prince Han Geng vanishes, lost to men who care nothing for his safety. It is Siwon, a loyal soldier, who is tasked with bringing him back alive.
And while the search continues to save a life, Kyuhyun must find a way to ally himself with his future queen's steward - to overcome mistrust and join two countries.
A/N: This is more based in the Land of My Head rather than in any specific country/time. Han Jun, I have delightedly borrowed from The Air I Breathe but this story otherwise has nothing to do with that one. I say 1/8, because that's what it is looking like. It won't be any shorter, in any case~
***
Han Geng should have known there was danger by the hush of the children, normally boisterous even as their parents tried to urge them into respect. Respect from an eager child, he could not command it.
So when he saw the dagger held to the tender throat of the middle boy, a precocious child no older than four years, his fear was not for himself. As somehow the man wielding the dagger knew it would not be.
“Cooperate with us, Your Highness, and we’ll let the children live.”
“Your Highness, we’re so sorry, we couldn’t...”
The woman was quieted as the knife threatened her child’s life.
There were too many of them. A man behind him, two in front. He could kill one, maybe two, but not before too much innocent blood was spilled.
He let his fingers fall from the hilt of his sword, standing defiantly as the belt that held it was stripped from his waist. Quick hands found his boot knife, and the long dagger he carried. Fingers toyed with the necklace around his neck, but a quick rebuke denied them.
“What do you want?” Han Geng asked, feeling his stomach churn as his wrists were bound.
The man smiled, pushing the child against his mother. “A kingdom.”
***
It was never a good sign when the king himself came looking for help. Han Jun, the oldest of two brothers, had taken the crown at his majority. A seemingly humble and intelligent man, he had the makings of becoming a good king. Siwon did not remember the king’s father, only his uncle who had reigned as regent. As a ruler, King Han Jun was the only one Siwon had ambition of serving, and they had been raised together, trained to fight together. Siwon and Han Jun and Han Geng.
“Siwon.”
The quick footsteps brought the king into view, and Siwon bowed on instinct, startled at the sudden appearance.
“Your Majesty.”
“I need... How soon can you be ready for a journey?”
Siwon calculated. Food, supplies. His horse to be saddled.
“Within the turning of the hour.”
Han Jun reached, gripping Siwon’s arm. “I must be frank with you, because this is too important. Han Geng has been taken. The family he was visiting today was found badly beaten, and Han Geng wasn’t with them. The woman said men held them until Han Geng arrived. His escorts were killed. The men who took him were from the north. I don’t know what they plan for him, but I know who I want to go after him. You can ride faster alone. Siwon... He’s my only brother.”
Speed then. He would ride without armor. Prince Han Geng, the king’s younger brother. Prince Han Geng, who closely followed the plight of the peasants and workers, who was his brother’s right hand and dearly loved by his people. Han Geng with his quick smile and soft heart.
He clasped his king’s arm, staring soberly into his eyes as few would have dared.
“I’ll find him.”
His king nodded, and Siwon snagged the arm of a passing page. “Run to the stables and have one of the grooms saddle my horse. Tell them to gather what’s necessary for a journey. I’ll need blankets and an oilskin for two, and a fire kit. I travel light and quick.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy gasped at seeing the king beside Siwon, ducking his head and racing for the stables.
“Thank you, Siwon.”
“I won’t let you down.” That the king trusted him that much.
“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering food and water skins for travel and clothes for Han Geng. And herbs. Bandages. If he’s injured...” His face tightened at the thought. “There are things you might need. And money, in case you should need it. It should be at the stables when you arrive.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Is there anything else I can supply you, anything that would make your journey successful?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Your prayers.”
King Han Jun smiled, the first such expression that had crossed his face. “You have those freely, from us all.”
They walked together to Siwon’s room, and it took him only moments to grab his only extra clothes. On impulse he grabbed his extra knife, both sets of gloves. He had no idea what he would need.
His horse stood, steady and laden with what he had requested, and what the king had sent. But not too much, he saw with relief. He would not be overly burdened.
“They’ll assuredly take him straight to their fortress,” King Han Jun said. “I trust that you’ll be able to find a way...”
Siwon ran checking fingers along the saddle’s girth. “Nothing will stop me from getting in, once I arrive.”
“Then we’ll expect to see both of you, safe.”
Siwon smiled. It was a very direct order to be careful.
“For the kingdom, Your Majesty,” Siwon said, and swung into the saddle. The horse stepped quickly to the side, until he felt Siwon’s guidance on the reins, his legs side his side. It took little urging to send the gelding into a brisk trot, moving past the stables and curious horses and people, out the stone walls and wooden gates. And as he moved past the last of the homes, into the fields, his purpose sat heavy on him.
Find Han Geng.
Bring him home.
***
Han Jun turned on his heel, turning toward the main hall. It was the last thing he wanted to do, and the thing that he had put off doing as long as he possibly could. But he couldn’t any longer. He felt the overwhelming sweep of love when he entered his mother’s rooms. He could see the proof of her dedication to him and his brother scattered there. A blanket sewn with articles of their clothing. Pretty things she had sewn in her spare time, things not there like blankets and clothing that she had given Han Geng to take to the people who needed them. He liked to think that she had given them their soft hearts from hers. It hurt him beyond measure that he had to break it.
It was that sewing task he found her at, in her plush chair by the window with the greatest light. She was sewing some little thing, a child’s shirt, and looked up when he entered without knocking.
“Han Jun! Do you need something?”
He knelt at her feet, not a king, but a son full of grief and bearing bad news. Not the worst... Until there was a body, there was hope. And he could not even consider that choice.
“Mama,” he said, taking her hand. “It’s Han Geng.”
His voice faltered, betraying him. Her eyes, only a little more lined than they had been when they were children, narrowed on his face, searching for an answer.
“What do you mean?” she asked, voice impossibly soft.
“He was out today, as he does. Bringing supplies to a family outside of the city, and...”
“Tell me,” she interrupted. “Tell me what happened.”
“He was attacked there. The family... He was taken. Taken by the north. I can only guess as to why. The family said the man who took him spoke of wanting a kingdom.”
“Han Geng...”
“Mama. I’ve sent Siwon after him. If anyone can find him and bring him back, it’s Siwon. We won’t stop trying. We’ll do whatever...”
“Han Jun...” Her hands closed on his face. “You don’t have to hide from your mama.”
He laid his head in her lap, unable to face her. He could sense her fear in the quickened breaths, the tenseness of her body. But she stroked his hair as she had done when he was a young child in need of comfort, and for some reason believed it brought comfort to them both.
“If this leads to war...”
“Then we’ll be ready for whatever circumstance. Every man who is able will lift a sword for you. But we must hope it won’t come to that.”
“All my life, I would come to Han Geng for advice. That I can’t go down the hall and find him with his nose in a book is...”
“Do not think of things you cannot change. Think of the things you can do to prepare for the outcomes. Good and bad. And do not neglect the duties you hold here. Hold strong, and Han Geng will thing more of you for it. Siwon is the best you have?”
He pushed back, meeting her eyes and nodding. “Yes, he is. We’ll believe in him. The family he was visiting is being cared for, and...”
He spoke to her of the ideas in his head to prepare, and felt some of the cold push away from his heart if only for a moment.
They hugged for a long moment before he left, and he leaned on her, comforting her
***
Han Geng knew his neck was burned from the unrelenting sun. They had been riding for hours, him strapped onto his own horse, his hands firmly behind him. The horse was clearly a pack animal, unused to leg commands, so even his subtle guidance brought only flickers of curiosity from the horse’s ears, but nothing else. Even if he had been able to make it break away, what could he have done? With his arms bound, they could have run until the horse tired... And they might have beaten him or worse. Without a way to fight back, it was useless.
They had beaten him, on the ground outside of the peasant’s cottage, with fists and feet. He had blacked out briefly, waking to the taste of blood and the barking of orders that they were to subdue him, not kill him. There were bruises, painful ones, and cuts, but no broken bones. When he expanded his ribs it was tender, but not painful. There were little things that he could be thankful for. But the shock of it had left him nearly immobile for the first hours, as he bobbed low and useless over the neck of his sturdy, plodding mount.
They stopped at an abandoned cottage in afternoon, testing the well water and dragging him down off of the horse. He was shoved inside, into the relative cool of the shade. Little was there but refuse and broken furniture, and it fit the men he traveled with perfectly. Every minute they delayed was a minute in his favor.
“Get over there.”
A hand shoved him at the wall, and with his hands behind him, he had no defense. He gasped in shock at the pain, his cheekbone throbbing from sharp edge of the slatted wood. They pushed him down, hard, his knees protesting on the hard packed earth.
“And stay there, dog,” one of the men said, spitting at him, and making the others laugh. His lip curled in disgust when he felt the wetness soak into his shirt.
He closed his eyes, let his cheek rest against the pitted, splintered wood. Behind him, they laughed, discussing their pay from his capture. Did they mean to ransom him, then? He had argued against heavier guard, but would it have helped? His back ached, his wrists raw. If there was an inch of skin that had not been pinched, hit, or pounded, then he didn’t know where it was. Filthy, exhausted and hungry, he tried to work his wrists, testing the strength of the cords that bound him. The knots were tight. He hadn’t been captured by idiots. He could smell the bitter stench of their ale, the smell of old, yeast bread making his stomach contract painfully. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get a crust or two. Or maybe a few gulps of the rancid smelling alcohol that would at least make him forget his hunger and hopefully the pain.
What he could not accept was compliance. If there was a way to escape, he would find it. Someone’s waylaid sword, some way to cut the cords. Some way. To accept this fate was to deny there was someone worrying for him. The face of his mother flashed in his mind too quickly for him to block it, and he rubbed his cheek against the wall as he had once done in her lap. Comforted by her presence, her voice. And with Jun beside him. They would worry. They would send someone for him, if they could. The bad thing was that he didn’t know that they were safe. Someone could have infiltrated the castle. Assassinated his brother. But he didn’t think so... It wasn’t likely. He would have been killed outright if that were the case.
He knew Jun as well as he did himself, and knew that if he could not free himself then someone was coming to help.
“He’s the best fighter we have. He can track, too,” Jun had joked, slapping Han Geng on the shoulder. “Unlike you, baby brother.”
How he had bristled... But he could still see the dimpled smile that flashed at that compliment, and the tiny glow of hope in the bottom of his heart was fanned just a little brighter.
A hand grabbed his hair, wrenching back his head. The bones in his neck popped, strained.
“Time for lunch,” the man cooed, and poured ale into Han Geng’s mouth. At that angle, he fought to swallow, and not choke, or he’d find himself not breathing.
“Don’t give him too much!” another man protested. “He’ll piss himself while we ride and he smells bad enough already!”
“As though you can talk!” his assailant retorted. But the flow of liquid stopped. Han Geng held the burning liquid in his mouth as he pulled in air through his nose, swallowing slowly as the spirits began working their way into him. He felt a bit dreamy as a previously-gnawed, dry crust was thrust into his mouth. But he chewed, swallowed. He fell into a sleepy stupor against the wall, until he was bodily lifted. His body was lashed to the horse again, as the others mounted, and he was carried further away from family and home.
***
Siwon picked up the trail at the peasant’s house that Han Geng had been taken from. From the family he knew there were at least four men, and they had taken a horse... So at least five horses, and he saw evidence of that many. From the village, north, there was only one way to cross the river and into the bordering forest. If they went quick, and went direct, they had almost a half day’s advance on him. It had taken time for the injured villagers to get out the word. And when night fell, he ran the risk of losing the tenuous trail altogether.
At the forest’s edge, he found sign of their passing. Manure, less than a day old. He sent a prayer behind him, for his king and people, and one ahead, for his prince. And urged the gelding on.
Crossing stream and skirting bushes, he was able to follow the general path they had followed. They stayed clear of the main track north, veering slightly to the east. They wouldn’t want to come upon travelers with a man who was bound in their midst, or run the risk that someone would recognize him as a prince. Strangely, it made them easier to track. The horse’s droppings, the branches they tore from bushes as they passed, all pointed him in the right direction. There were times when the trail was obscure to him, but he knew the direction that they were going in, and found it easily.
He slept, wrapped in a blanket when it became too dark to continue... For the trail, and for his and the horse’s safety.
But he was moving before the sun had fully risen. He found the abandoned dwelling they had stopped at, but they had left nothing but garbage behind.
He was most excited to find where they had camped. The remains of a fire, flattened areas in the ground where men had lain. Somewhere here, Han Geng had spent the night. Likely wondering if anyone would be coming for him.. But he had to know his brother wouldn’t rest until he was safe.
Siwon stopped beside the fire pit, reaching down to test the temperature of the ashes. They had at least had the forethought to douse it well. Still... He held a piece of charcoal in his fingers. There was still lingering warmth to it. It meant that he wasn’t too far behind. Men had slept here. Horses grazed. They were traveling quick, so if Han Geng was injured, they were making no allowance for it. He stared at the charcoal dust that drifted down from the force of his fingers. He had better not be injured, Siwon vowed. He could think of little reason that they would take him, hurt him badly, and still allow him to live. Still, he was under no illusion that Han Geng would be treated well. With respect, as a prince should be. All that Siwon needed was for him to be alive when he found him.
His goals were quite short sighted. He didn’t need to know their motivations. All he needed was Han Geng. There was time, with Han Geng’s safety, to worry about what moves had to be made, if any. Retaliation was always possible, if it was required. If something like this could be avoided. He tried to dwell only on what he was doing, the trail he was following, and not the plight of the man who was his goal. Hurt. Afraid.
But not for long.
The gelding was steady as Siwon remounted. They had a lot of miles to cover, and not a lot of daylight left to do it in. But the gelding was strong, young, and eager. And he let the horse set the quick pace, mouthing at the bit in case Siwon would allow him even greater freedom. Together, they would find Han Geng. The men ahead had no need to hide their direction or their destination. They would arrive before anyone, and possibly did not expect a scout to follow along this close behind. But they underestimated the attachment of King Han Jun, and the loyalty their people had, for their prince.
They were lucky it was Siwon riding behind them, and not the guarantee of war.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R eventually (language, sexual situations)
Pairings: Siwon/Hankyung and Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Genre: AU, historical, romance
Summary: Abducted from the people he protects, Prince Han Geng vanishes, lost to men who care nothing for his safety. It is Siwon, a loyal soldier, who is tasked with bringing him back alive.
And while the search continues to save a life, Kyuhyun must find a way to ally himself with his future queen's steward - to overcome mistrust and join two countries.
A/N: This is more based in the Land of My Head rather than in any specific country/time. Han Jun, I have delightedly borrowed from The Air I Breathe but this story otherwise has nothing to do with that one. I say 1/8, because that's what it is looking like. It won't be any shorter, in any case~
***
Han Geng should have known there was danger by the hush of the children, normally boisterous even as their parents tried to urge them into respect. Respect from an eager child, he could not command it.
So when he saw the dagger held to the tender throat of the middle boy, a precocious child no older than four years, his fear was not for himself. As somehow the man wielding the dagger knew it would not be.
“Cooperate with us, Your Highness, and we’ll let the children live.”
“Your Highness, we’re so sorry, we couldn’t...”
The woman was quieted as the knife threatened her child’s life.
There were too many of them. A man behind him, two in front. He could kill one, maybe two, but not before too much innocent blood was spilled.
He let his fingers fall from the hilt of his sword, standing defiantly as the belt that held it was stripped from his waist. Quick hands found his boot knife, and the long dagger he carried. Fingers toyed with the necklace around his neck, but a quick rebuke denied them.
“What do you want?” Han Geng asked, feeling his stomach churn as his wrists were bound.
The man smiled, pushing the child against his mother. “A kingdom.”
***
It was never a good sign when the king himself came looking for help. Han Jun, the oldest of two brothers, had taken the crown at his majority. A seemingly humble and intelligent man, he had the makings of becoming a good king. Siwon did not remember the king’s father, only his uncle who had reigned as regent. As a ruler, King Han Jun was the only one Siwon had ambition of serving, and they had been raised together, trained to fight together. Siwon and Han Jun and Han Geng.
“Siwon.”
The quick footsteps brought the king into view, and Siwon bowed on instinct, startled at the sudden appearance.
“Your Majesty.”
“I need... How soon can you be ready for a journey?”
Siwon calculated. Food, supplies. His horse to be saddled.
“Within the turning of the hour.”
Han Jun reached, gripping Siwon’s arm. “I must be frank with you, because this is too important. Han Geng has been taken. The family he was visiting today was found badly beaten, and Han Geng wasn’t with them. The woman said men held them until Han Geng arrived. His escorts were killed. The men who took him were from the north. I don’t know what they plan for him, but I know who I want to go after him. You can ride faster alone. Siwon... He’s my only brother.”
Speed then. He would ride without armor. Prince Han Geng, the king’s younger brother. Prince Han Geng, who closely followed the plight of the peasants and workers, who was his brother’s right hand and dearly loved by his people. Han Geng with his quick smile and soft heart.
He clasped his king’s arm, staring soberly into his eyes as few would have dared.
“I’ll find him.”
His king nodded, and Siwon snagged the arm of a passing page. “Run to the stables and have one of the grooms saddle my horse. Tell them to gather what’s necessary for a journey. I’ll need blankets and an oilskin for two, and a fire kit. I travel light and quick.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy gasped at seeing the king beside Siwon, ducking his head and racing for the stables.
“Thank you, Siwon.”
“I won’t let you down.” That the king trusted him that much.
“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering food and water skins for travel and clothes for Han Geng. And herbs. Bandages. If he’s injured...” His face tightened at the thought. “There are things you might need. And money, in case you should need it. It should be at the stables when you arrive.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Is there anything else I can supply you, anything that would make your journey successful?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Your prayers.”
King Han Jun smiled, the first such expression that had crossed his face. “You have those freely, from us all.”
They walked together to Siwon’s room, and it took him only moments to grab his only extra clothes. On impulse he grabbed his extra knife, both sets of gloves. He had no idea what he would need.
His horse stood, steady and laden with what he had requested, and what the king had sent. But not too much, he saw with relief. He would not be overly burdened.
“They’ll assuredly take him straight to their fortress,” King Han Jun said. “I trust that you’ll be able to find a way...”
Siwon ran checking fingers along the saddle’s girth. “Nothing will stop me from getting in, once I arrive.”
“Then we’ll expect to see both of you, safe.”
Siwon smiled. It was a very direct order to be careful.
“For the kingdom, Your Majesty,” Siwon said, and swung into the saddle. The horse stepped quickly to the side, until he felt Siwon’s guidance on the reins, his legs side his side. It took little urging to send the gelding into a brisk trot, moving past the stables and curious horses and people, out the stone walls and wooden gates. And as he moved past the last of the homes, into the fields, his purpose sat heavy on him.
Find Han Geng.
Bring him home.
***
Han Jun turned on his heel, turning toward the main hall. It was the last thing he wanted to do, and the thing that he had put off doing as long as he possibly could. But he couldn’t any longer. He felt the overwhelming sweep of love when he entered his mother’s rooms. He could see the proof of her dedication to him and his brother scattered there. A blanket sewn with articles of their clothing. Pretty things she had sewn in her spare time, things not there like blankets and clothing that she had given Han Geng to take to the people who needed them. He liked to think that she had given them their soft hearts from hers. It hurt him beyond measure that he had to break it.
It was that sewing task he found her at, in her plush chair by the window with the greatest light. She was sewing some little thing, a child’s shirt, and looked up when he entered without knocking.
“Han Jun! Do you need something?”
He knelt at her feet, not a king, but a son full of grief and bearing bad news. Not the worst... Until there was a body, there was hope. And he could not even consider that choice.
“Mama,” he said, taking her hand. “It’s Han Geng.”
His voice faltered, betraying him. Her eyes, only a little more lined than they had been when they were children, narrowed on his face, searching for an answer.
“What do you mean?” she asked, voice impossibly soft.
“He was out today, as he does. Bringing supplies to a family outside of the city, and...”
“Tell me,” she interrupted. “Tell me what happened.”
“He was attacked there. The family... He was taken. Taken by the north. I can only guess as to why. The family said the man who took him spoke of wanting a kingdom.”
“Han Geng...”
“Mama. I’ve sent Siwon after him. If anyone can find him and bring him back, it’s Siwon. We won’t stop trying. We’ll do whatever...”
“Han Jun...” Her hands closed on his face. “You don’t have to hide from your mama.”
He laid his head in her lap, unable to face her. He could sense her fear in the quickened breaths, the tenseness of her body. But she stroked his hair as she had done when he was a young child in need of comfort, and for some reason believed it brought comfort to them both.
“If this leads to war...”
“Then we’ll be ready for whatever circumstance. Every man who is able will lift a sword for you. But we must hope it won’t come to that.”
“All my life, I would come to Han Geng for advice. That I can’t go down the hall and find him with his nose in a book is...”
“Do not think of things you cannot change. Think of the things you can do to prepare for the outcomes. Good and bad. And do not neglect the duties you hold here. Hold strong, and Han Geng will thing more of you for it. Siwon is the best you have?”
He pushed back, meeting her eyes and nodding. “Yes, he is. We’ll believe in him. The family he was visiting is being cared for, and...”
He spoke to her of the ideas in his head to prepare, and felt some of the cold push away from his heart if only for a moment.
They hugged for a long moment before he left, and he leaned on her, comforting her
***
Han Geng knew his neck was burned from the unrelenting sun. They had been riding for hours, him strapped onto his own horse, his hands firmly behind him. The horse was clearly a pack animal, unused to leg commands, so even his subtle guidance brought only flickers of curiosity from the horse’s ears, but nothing else. Even if he had been able to make it break away, what could he have done? With his arms bound, they could have run until the horse tired... And they might have beaten him or worse. Without a way to fight back, it was useless.
They had beaten him, on the ground outside of the peasant’s cottage, with fists and feet. He had blacked out briefly, waking to the taste of blood and the barking of orders that they were to subdue him, not kill him. There were bruises, painful ones, and cuts, but no broken bones. When he expanded his ribs it was tender, but not painful. There were little things that he could be thankful for. But the shock of it had left him nearly immobile for the first hours, as he bobbed low and useless over the neck of his sturdy, plodding mount.
They stopped at an abandoned cottage in afternoon, testing the well water and dragging him down off of the horse. He was shoved inside, into the relative cool of the shade. Little was there but refuse and broken furniture, and it fit the men he traveled with perfectly. Every minute they delayed was a minute in his favor.
“Get over there.”
A hand shoved him at the wall, and with his hands behind him, he had no defense. He gasped in shock at the pain, his cheekbone throbbing from sharp edge of the slatted wood. They pushed him down, hard, his knees protesting on the hard packed earth.
“And stay there, dog,” one of the men said, spitting at him, and making the others laugh. His lip curled in disgust when he felt the wetness soak into his shirt.
He closed his eyes, let his cheek rest against the pitted, splintered wood. Behind him, they laughed, discussing their pay from his capture. Did they mean to ransom him, then? He had argued against heavier guard, but would it have helped? His back ached, his wrists raw. If there was an inch of skin that had not been pinched, hit, or pounded, then he didn’t know where it was. Filthy, exhausted and hungry, he tried to work his wrists, testing the strength of the cords that bound him. The knots were tight. He hadn’t been captured by idiots. He could smell the bitter stench of their ale, the smell of old, yeast bread making his stomach contract painfully. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get a crust or two. Or maybe a few gulps of the rancid smelling alcohol that would at least make him forget his hunger and hopefully the pain.
What he could not accept was compliance. If there was a way to escape, he would find it. Someone’s waylaid sword, some way to cut the cords. Some way. To accept this fate was to deny there was someone worrying for him. The face of his mother flashed in his mind too quickly for him to block it, and he rubbed his cheek against the wall as he had once done in her lap. Comforted by her presence, her voice. And with Jun beside him. They would worry. They would send someone for him, if they could. The bad thing was that he didn’t know that they were safe. Someone could have infiltrated the castle. Assassinated his brother. But he didn’t think so... It wasn’t likely. He would have been killed outright if that were the case.
He knew Jun as well as he did himself, and knew that if he could not free himself then someone was coming to help.
“He’s the best fighter we have. He can track, too,” Jun had joked, slapping Han Geng on the shoulder. “Unlike you, baby brother.”
How he had bristled... But he could still see the dimpled smile that flashed at that compliment, and the tiny glow of hope in the bottom of his heart was fanned just a little brighter.
A hand grabbed his hair, wrenching back his head. The bones in his neck popped, strained.
“Time for lunch,” the man cooed, and poured ale into Han Geng’s mouth. At that angle, he fought to swallow, and not choke, or he’d find himself not breathing.
“Don’t give him too much!” another man protested. “He’ll piss himself while we ride and he smells bad enough already!”
“As though you can talk!” his assailant retorted. But the flow of liquid stopped. Han Geng held the burning liquid in his mouth as he pulled in air through his nose, swallowing slowly as the spirits began working their way into him. He felt a bit dreamy as a previously-gnawed, dry crust was thrust into his mouth. But he chewed, swallowed. He fell into a sleepy stupor against the wall, until he was bodily lifted. His body was lashed to the horse again, as the others mounted, and he was carried further away from family and home.
***
Siwon picked up the trail at the peasant’s house that Han Geng had been taken from. From the family he knew there were at least four men, and they had taken a horse... So at least five horses, and he saw evidence of that many. From the village, north, there was only one way to cross the river and into the bordering forest. If they went quick, and went direct, they had almost a half day’s advance on him. It had taken time for the injured villagers to get out the word. And when night fell, he ran the risk of losing the tenuous trail altogether.
At the forest’s edge, he found sign of their passing. Manure, less than a day old. He sent a prayer behind him, for his king and people, and one ahead, for his prince. And urged the gelding on.
Crossing stream and skirting bushes, he was able to follow the general path they had followed. They stayed clear of the main track north, veering slightly to the east. They wouldn’t want to come upon travelers with a man who was bound in their midst, or run the risk that someone would recognize him as a prince. Strangely, it made them easier to track. The horse’s droppings, the branches they tore from bushes as they passed, all pointed him in the right direction. There were times when the trail was obscure to him, but he knew the direction that they were going in, and found it easily.
He slept, wrapped in a blanket when it became too dark to continue... For the trail, and for his and the horse’s safety.
But he was moving before the sun had fully risen. He found the abandoned dwelling they had stopped at, but they had left nothing but garbage behind.
He was most excited to find where they had camped. The remains of a fire, flattened areas in the ground where men had lain. Somewhere here, Han Geng had spent the night. Likely wondering if anyone would be coming for him.. But he had to know his brother wouldn’t rest until he was safe.
Siwon stopped beside the fire pit, reaching down to test the temperature of the ashes. They had at least had the forethought to douse it well. Still... He held a piece of charcoal in his fingers. There was still lingering warmth to it. It meant that he wasn’t too far behind. Men had slept here. Horses grazed. They were traveling quick, so if Han Geng was injured, they were making no allowance for it. He stared at the charcoal dust that drifted down from the force of his fingers. He had better not be injured, Siwon vowed. He could think of little reason that they would take him, hurt him badly, and still allow him to live. Still, he was under no illusion that Han Geng would be treated well. With respect, as a prince should be. All that Siwon needed was for him to be alive when he found him.
His goals were quite short sighted. He didn’t need to know their motivations. All he needed was Han Geng. There was time, with Han Geng’s safety, to worry about what moves had to be made, if any. Retaliation was always possible, if it was required. If something like this could be avoided. He tried to dwell only on what he was doing, the trail he was following, and not the plight of the man who was his goal. Hurt. Afraid.
But not for long.
The gelding was steady as Siwon remounted. They had a lot of miles to cover, and not a lot of daylight left to do it in. But the gelding was strong, young, and eager. And he let the horse set the quick pace, mouthing at the bit in case Siwon would allow him even greater freedom. Together, they would find Han Geng. The men ahead had no need to hide their direction or their destination. They would arrive before anyone, and possibly did not expect a scout to follow along this close behind. But they underestimated the attachment of King Han Jun, and the loyalty their people had, for their prince.
They were lucky it was Siwon riding behind them, and not the guarantee of war.
***