Read The Court Dancer Page 14


  —Can you understand them?

  Victor asked Blanc as he stared from a distance at Yeon, who was surrounded by children.

  —Yes.

  Blanc answered curtly as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  —Who is he?

  —He is a musician at Jangakwon.

  A Jangakwon musician?

  —Meaning he plays court music?

  —The daegeum flute. From what I know he plays every Korean instrument, not just the daegeum. He is excellent at the ajaeng zither.

  —Can he hear?

  —He can.

  —How can a mute man be a court musician?

  Blanc glanced sideways at Victor. He found Victor’s interest in Yeon a bit odd. The Victor Blanc knew was a responsible and thoughtful diplomat who never betrayed what he was really thinking. He had a way of effectively getting things done while at the same time guarding his silence when asked for his opinion, prompting the other person to speak first. Victor was normally a reasonable and cool-headed man. His showing interest in a mute Korean musician seemed a little out of character.

  Blanc had lived in Korea for so long that he was practically Korean, and Victor’s way of thinking about Korea had made Blanc uncomfortable for some time. He was grateful for Victor’s help in addressing the obscene rumors about his setting up the orphanage to suck the blood of Korean children, but Victor was also the cunning mind behind the plan that got French troops to patrol on their horses unhindered within the fortress of the Korean capital. It was to be expected that a diplomat should be looking out for their own country’s interests using whatever means they had. But Blanc had hopes that as the first French diplomat to be formally appointed to Korea, Victor would have a better understanding of the Korean people. Blanc was already disappointed in how he showed more interest in Korea’s celadon and books than its people. It was in keeping with his reputation as a collector. Blanc knew that the legation annex was already full of Korean paintings, books, celadon, and folding screens. Not to mention the fact that these goods were destined for France.

  —Korea’s treatment of the disabled has that in favor of the French. They do not particularly discriminate against or exclude them. Not even as royal court musicians.

  Victor gave Blanc a look. How could he be so steadfast in his defense of the Korean people, even in the face of rumors so unreal they wouldn’t be believed in a story, rumors that had been so persistent they led to an attack against him? Victor realized in that moment that Blanc was more a man of religion than a man of France.

  —I am curious to hear the music of a mute man.

  —You’ve already heard him.

  —I have?

  —He was there on the evening of the banquet held in your honor.

  Was he?

  Meanwhile.

  The Queen, who was discussing the new Western-style hospital Gwanghyewon with the wife of the royal physician Dr. Horace Underwood, saw Lady Suh’s face break into a surprised expression at a note passed to her by a junior lady attendant. As Lady Suh began stepping backward to leave, the Queen stopped her in her tracks.

  —Is someone here?

  Lady Suh hesitated.

  —What is the reason behind your surprised expression?

  —Forgive me, Your Majesty.

  —Is it from Unhyeongung Palace?

  Whenever Lady Suh made that face, it usually meant there was news from the Regent at Unhyeongung Palace. The hospital Gwanghyewon was established in the Jaedong neighborhood, following the recommendation of Dr. Horace Allen, who treated Min Yeongik when he was hit by a sword. The new hospital was said to be treating seventy to eighty patients daily. Allen was also conducting four to five surgical operations a day. Underwood himself, the King’s physician who had studied medicine in America before coming to Korea, was also helping at Gwanghyewon and teaching Korean students physics and chemistry. Listening to Mrs. Underwood speak, the Queen had thought of her first son, who had died only five days after he was born. The child had been constipated and was given ginseng sent from Unhyeongung Palace and died two days later. It was because of a fever. If Gwanghyewon had existed back then, they might not have done such a foolish thing as to feed a baby ginseng. She would not have lost the prince so meaninglessly. The thought had been taking root deep in her mind like a tuber of arrowroot.

  —No, Your Majesty. Lady Attendant Suh, she went to the legation . . .

  —What of her?

  —. . .

  —What of Lady Attendant Suh?

  —She is wounded.

  —Wounded?

  —Yes.

  The Queen’s pupils trembled. She asked through the interpreter present for Mrs. Underwood to excuse her before turning again to Lady Suh.

  —How did this happen?

  —She was attacked.

  —Attacked? Why would she be attacked?

  —There seems to have been a misunderstanding when she was seen walking with the French legate. They thought she was a spy.

  The Queen gripped her hand with the cupronickel ring into a tight fist atop the low table. Korea’s diplomatic policy was to maintain the balance of power between China and Japan, but since the Gapsin Coup, it was Chinese influence that was in the ascendance. China sent Yuan Shikai with the instruction to treat Korea like a vassal state. Yuan’s power almost rivaled that of the King’s. The Korean monarchy had returned to power using Chinese strength, but the Queen found herself frequently at odds with Yuan’s measures. She thought that China and Japan were no longer enough. They now needed the power of Russia, America, England, and France.

  —How serious are her wounds?

  —The message is that she cannot return to the palace today. They request that she be granted a few days of treatment before she comes back.

  —Who delivered the message?

  The Queen asked this, wondering if it was the musician Kang Yeon, who had helped her in both the Year of the Black Horse and the Year of the Blue Horse.

  —The woman Suh who does the housekeeping at the orphanage in Gondangol, Your Majesty.

  Lady Suh bowed her head low.

  —Where is she wounded, and how?

  —Her left shoulder was pierced by a knife.

  The Queen’s eyelashes trembled. She closed her eyes. It is very human to endlessly make the contradictory request for a person with large feet to leave small footprints. Mrs. Underwood regarded the Queen with a concerned expression and thought, Poor thing. The Queen opened her eyes narrowly and spoke to Lady Suh in a cool and utterly unemotional voice.

  —Tell Lady Attendant Suh to stay at the French legation until she is healed.

  Lady Suh stood motionless, thinking she had misheard. Oh, why did she send that child outside of court? The Queen, having given a command that contradicted her will, could not bear to open her eyes again. Even as Lady Suh had beseeched the Queen to allow this very thing a moment ago, she knew the request was so extraordinary as to be unprecedented. Lady Suh could not believe that the Queen had so readily given her consent. Tell Lady Attendant Suh to stay at the French legation . . . Regret swept through the heart of the Queen. It was the Queen herself who had craftily sent Jin outside the palace. She remembered the King and the French legate at the banquet held in the Pavilion of Festivities. The King, his heart stolen by the dancer in her rendition of the Dance of the Spring Oriole, could not take his eyes off her for a moment, and the legate had completely forgotten his surroundings, acting as if only he and the dancer existed in that time and place.

  —Tell her to remain there until further notice.

  Lady Suh dared to raise her head to catch a glimpse of the Queen. Was she thinking of banishing Jin from court? Her heart dropped to the floor. It was almost unheard of for a court lady to spend a night outside of the palace. Even getting permission for a single night was difficult, but to remain outside until further notice? And not any lady attendant but Jin, who was frequently called to the Queen’s Chambers? Lady Suh hesitated as question begot question u
ntil the Queen’s voice reached her ears again.

  —That is all. Leave us.

  Here was the adamant voice the Queen used when her decision was final.

  —Yes, Your Majesty.

  The Queen turned toward Mrs. Underwood again.

  As Lady Suh came out to the courtyard of the Queen’s Chambers, the woman Suh, waiting restlessly by the hinges of the Gate of Dualities, walked toward her sister to faster close the distance between them.

  —What does she say, my lady?

  Lady Suh was younger, but the woman Suh never forgot to address the senior court lady according to her proper honorific.

  —She orders Lady Attendant Suh to remain at the French legation until further notice.

  —How can this be?

  —These are her instructions, and so we must follow them.

  The woman Suh seemed disappointed. She had hoped Jin could stay with her until her wounds had healed, at least. She had never been allowed to spend a night with Jin since Jin had entered the palace as a court lady. She could not even see her whenever she wanted. Suh could enter the palace only through special permission if she wanted to meet Jin, and such meetings were never enough for the two of them.

  Lady Suh walked her sister to the Gate of Dualities.

  —Has there ever been a case such as this?

  —Never. Nor have we ever had to report on the actions of a mere junior lady attendant. The Queen ordered that she be told in detail everything that Lady Attendant Suh does.

  —But why?

  —I don’t know. Is she terribly hurt?

  —It will take her some time to heal.

  The woman Suh stopped in her tracks and turned to Lady Suh.

  —I understand that this is the order of the Queen, but I want to keep her with me tonight. She couldn’t possibly send any other orders in the middle of the night, would she? I can take her to the legation tomorrow. May I do so?

  Do not say I cannot, were the unspoken words that were nonetheless audible through the determination in her voice.

  The night embraces everything. Including, firmly, the pain of day.

  Jin, whose forehead was drenched in cold sweat from the pain, managed to crack open her eyes. She could see Yeon sitting next to her, dabbing away the sweat from her forehead. He could not speak, but his eyes were eloquent enough. The woman Suh sat on her other side, sleeping on the bare floor. She seemed to have dozed off while keeping vigil with Yeon.

  —The Queen has ordered you to stay at the legation until given further notice.

  Jin felt disheartened as she recalled the words Suh spoke since returning from the palace before Jin had fallen asleep. Was it a dream? The legate, upon hearing these words through Blanc, had made a happy face. Suh, her expression disgruntled, sat down by Jin. Jin had felt her strength leave her at the Queen’s message, and she slid into sleep.

  Yeon’s face was tinged with pained concern as he dabbed the sweat that gathered again on Jin’s forehead.

  What time is it? Jin had merely thought the question when Yeon immediately picked up a fountain pen and small notebook beside him and wrote the time, sagyeong, or an hour after midnight, before showing it to Jin. Jin had never seen the writing implements before. Seeing her questioning expression, Yeon picked up his pen and notebook and wrote that the pen was given to him by the French legate, the notebook by Blanc.

  —The French legate?

  Yeon nodded at her question. Jin had seen feather pens on the desks of the legation office that day, but she had never seen a fountain pen before. There was a wild horse etched on the silver barrel. Jin looked at the pen that wrote with ink that flowed from its tip, and the notebook made from sheets of mulberry paper sewn together with cotton thread. Yeon followed her gaze and settled on the implements as well. The French legate, who had sat next to the sleeping Jin, remembered something as he got up to leave, and took out the fountain pen from his pocket before handing it to Yeon. Yeon could not understand the legate’s French words. Blanc took out a small notebook he always carried with him, uncapped the fountain pen, and wrote, You can take it from him. He says it is something you need very much. Yeon watched the ink flow from the pen as Blanc wrote the words.

  —He says he wishes for your success.

  Why would he gift such a thing to me? His heart pushed him to refuse, but Yeon found the pen already in his hand. The letters that formed from the blue ink that flowed wherever his hand moved were like butterflies in flight.

  —And the legate?

  Yeon wrote that he had returned to the legation, saying he would come back in the morning. As Yeon wrote, he realized why Blanc had urged him to accept the pen. Now he didn’t have to write his words on the floor. When Yeon seemed disconcerted from having been offered a gift from someone he had only just met, Blanc said he should play the daegeum for the legate once his arm healed. That the legate wished to hear his music.

  Yeon stopped Jin from trying to sit up. Her wounds could worsen if she kept moving.

  —I’m thirsty . . . I’m suffocating.

  Since Jin refused to stay down, Yeon decided to support her instead. She could sit up but not on her own and leaned on Yeon instead. Yeon lifted a bowl of water to her lips. Once she drank the water, Jin discovered a silk-wrapped bundle next to her pillow. Victor had carried it with him from the legation that day. The bundle contained books from France. Jin stared at it. If all this hadn’t happened, she would be in the palace right now, reading those books to Soa. What would she have said upon hearing French words for the first time? She would have fallen asleep immediately. And after Soa was asleep, Jin might’ve spent the night translating the French words into Korean to read to the Queen.

  When there is no light in one’s heart, even the brightest room seems dark.

  —Take me outside.

  Yeon’s face fell.

  —I need air.

  The two looked at the sleeping Suh at the same time. She sat with her arm for a pillow, her forehead creased in wrinkles. Both Jin and Yeon were too injured to go out into the courtyard on their own. Jin could just about sit on the edge of the long porch that lined the courtyard and dangle her legs but only with Yeon’s support. Once they sat down, she needed to lean on him once more. Jin gazed out into the dark at the date tree and persimmon tree planted in the orphanage courtyard.

  —There’s a moon.

  The full moon rose in the black night. The two looked up at the sight of it surrounded by countless stars.

  —It’s like that time in the Year of the Black Horse.

  —. . .

  —I had no idea you could use a sword. When did you learn?

  Jin laughed softly. She kept forgetting Yeon was mute. The Imo Mutiny had risen out of discrimination between traditional and modern weaponry. Not only was the traditional military pushed out into the periphery, but its soldiers had also gone for months without pay. When they finally received their rations, they were enraged by the fact that the rice was half-rotten and mixed with sand and chaff. The food storages were raided, and weapons were stolen. They were rearing for a fight, and once it sparked, the situation flared out of control. It began with the traditional military, but they were soon joined by poor civilians disgruntled with the forces of the Enlightenment movement. The houses of high officials were burned, and the Japanese legation was overrun. Soon, angry soldiers and peasants surged toward the palace.

  Jin sighed deeply as she leaned against Yeon.

  The mob was after the Queen. They considered her the reason for their impoverishment, having pushed reform by creating a separate modernized military and opening the nation to trade, allowing foreigners to seize power. Thinking that his father, the Regent, was the only one who could calm the angry mob, the King brought him back into the palace. The Queen had to flee. Accompanying her as she escaped from the palace with the help of Hong Gyehoon was the mere junior lady attendant Jin. Just as they escaped, a group of soldiers, who recognized Jin as part of the Queen’s retinue, pursued them from
behind. The Queen was made to hide in the long grass near the road, and Jin boarded the palanquin in her stead, not long before they were captured. When the soldiers realized the occupant of the palanquin was not the Queen, they brandished their swords at Jin. It was in that moment she heard someone call out, “Silverbell!” A man wearing a black head cloth over his nose and mouth appeared between the soldiers and Jin. He held a sword in one hand. The palanquin bearers had long run away. Jin also made a run for it, but she stopped suddenly.

  Silverbell? Was it Yeon?

  She had never seen Yeon handle a sword instead of an ajaeng or the daegeum. In the dark, she stared as the man with the black head cloth fought against the soldiers. His swordplay was too effortless for him to really be Yeon. Only the soldiers made a sound. The man with the black head cloth was silent. He managed to keep fighting them off until Hong Gyehoon arrived at the scene. A soldier who had wounded his arm stepped away. As the other soldiers began retreating, the man with the black head cloth also slipped into the dark. He seemed to have sustained a serious arm injury of his own. The Queen and her guardians hid during the day and traveled only at night as they put as much distance as possible between themselves and the capital, but Jin felt the presence of someone following them the whole way. When they ran out of provisions, someone left them a bundle of wrapped balls of rice by the roadside, and when they needed disguises, clothes seemed to appear from thin air. One night when the moon had risen, on a mountain trail where it was impossible to keep hidden, Jin finally came face-to-face with Yeon. The exhausted Queen had found it impossible to continue, and Jin had gone looking for water alone. Jin made Yeon lay down his injured arm on her lap as they gazed out at the moon over the valley.

  Home is where they know you hurt. It is where they mourn your passing.

  —I wish we could go back to when we lived in Banchon.

  Jin whispered this as if to herself, leaning against Yeon. Where could that mountain trail be, where Yeon had followed her like a shadow despite his wounded arm?