Chương 48: Chapter 45: The Music of Nakjo

The three rode a short distance ahead of the caravan before dismounting. Not so far that they couldn't run back in case of an emergency, but far enough that they had space to themselves. There was very little wildlife moving about in the late summer. It felt like the land itself was taking a deep breath before the oncoming monsoon season poured a solid month and a half of rain into soil baked dry by the hot sun.

The Sichuan mountains hadn't quite peeked over the horizon, but according to Iseul they were only a day or two away. As soon as they were able to make out the snow-capped tips, they would set down and plant their changpo flowers. They were forbidden by Imperial law from coming within 500 li of any major city, and Chengdu sat nestled at the foot of the Sichuan mountains, serving as a gate to the greater province of Sichuan.

"Took you long enough," Jinu complained. He rummaged through his disorganized saddle backs and pulled out his frame drum.

"Are you still being punished?" Dami asked, setting down some furs and blankets beside a saksual tree.

"Does everybody know about that?" Song sighed. He removed his topshur from his saddle mantle, then pulled out some strips of dried daikon. Bongbong, Jinu, and Dami's horses all came nuzzling close, nipping at each other to try and get to the sweet treats first. Song thwacked their noses aside with a practiced hand.

"One at a time, you greedy guts!" ["Neat, are you three finally going to give me a concert?"] Cyrus asked. ["Yes."] ["You gonna do more of that throat singing thing? That was really cool."] Song smiled. ["Yes."] Dami surveyed her handiwork with her hands on her hips, then gave a firm nod.

"You know, Song, if you didn't want everybody to know that you were playing errand boy, you shouldn't have been flashing everybody all day." ["Hah! That's one way to put it! Song the serial flasher! Ahaha!"] Cyrus laughed. Song tried to process the twin conversations. ["Wait."] he shot at Cyrus, while also saying out loud, "What?"

"Your Sign spooks the horses," Dami shook her head.

"You're lucky everybody appreciates what you're going through. Father said he was ready to wring your neck after the first day." Song shuffled his feet.

"Oh."

"It's better now that you're not running around with a bare chest," Dami held her hand daintily over her mouth and tittered.

"And you've managed to tone the light down enough that it isn't a bother."

"Dunno about that. I saw how some of the girls were watching you while you ran around, Song." Jinu grinned.

"Maybe you should take the deel off more often." Dami stepped forward and kicked Jinu in the shins, but he blocked her foot with his own, and the two shared glares. For his part, Song sighed and took a seat, tuning his topshuur lute with the usual off-key twangs. ["Flashing in my world means running around naked."] Cyrus announced. ["In case you were wondering.]" Song hit a particularly sour note. Everyone winced. Soon enough, Dami and Jinu joined him under the tree, letting their horses run free in the field.

Jinu set to drumming a simple beat, while Dami warmed her lips with a few scales. The tsuur had a deep, ethereal quality to it that Song had always considered superior to the imperial dizi flute.

"What should we play first?" Jinu asked, rolling his shoulders. ["I know we want to keep things on the down-low, so I haven't been teaching you too much,"] Cyrus said, ["But I think you'd really enjoy some classic Canadian songs. Log driver's waltz, maybe. Ooh! Or some country to go with all your horses!"] Song considered the horses, which were starting to munch on the wild grasses.

"How about Cheonma?" Dami grinned and Jinu struck up a staccato bouncing rhythm on his drum. Song strummed the tune on his topshuur, while Dami's flute wove a ribbon of melody throughout. After a few stanzas, Song broke into a full-throated song.

"A long slender neck And wide golden head None are its master, It leads its own herd! Galloping over the plain! Cheonma, Cheonma, Murim's Fastest Horse It has two hearts, It has two lungs, Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The legend of Nakjo.

Fast and so handsome Its coat dappled brown, Beloved by all, Young and old Cheonma, Cheonma Murim's fastest horse Faster than flame Sweeter than dreams Stronger than oaks And tougher even than gold Cheonma, Cheonma, Murim's Fastest Horse." While they played, the horses' ears perked up, and they trotted and hopped, dancing to the music with joyful little leaps. Bongbong was especially eager, fully kicking his heels into the air to the beat.

The effect was quite comical, especially with their dopey long-toothed whinnies adding to trill of Dami's flute. When the trio reached the end of the words to the song, they continued to play. Song and Jinu both raised their voices in a high-pitched khoomei trill, and Dami raised the register on her flute to match. Their reverie was broken by Dami's scowled interjection.

"Uh oh. Company." Song glanced over his shoulder back at the caravan. The majority of the clans were busy setting up for the evening, but a small contingent of people on horseback were trotting out to meet them. Song recognized most of them as his distant Lee cousins, with a few others mixed in. But what had caught Dami's ire was the person at the front. Long lustrous black hair matched only by Lee San's beard. Wide, piercing golden eyes with lashes longer than a horse's.

A porcelain complexion unblemished by long hours spent tending to the flocks. A Sign that somehow smelled more like sweet spring than the loamy earth of most Jo's. And a demeanor softer and kinder than even the oldest of hounds. She was the very picture of a legendary jade beauty. The flower of Changpo – Jo Harin. She rode at the front of the group, her morin khuur violin strapped to her back. Jinu stood and waved, heedless of Dami's animosity.

"Elder Sister! Over here!" Harin flashed them a stunning smile, and Song's strumming fingers briefly faltered before he resumed at a quicker pace. Dami's scowl smoothed out into what could best be expressed as 'edged welcome'.

"Good evening little brother. Lee Song. Yu Dami." Harin hopped down from her horse as soon as she pulled up alongside.

"We heard you back at the camp. May I join you?"

"Of course, sister!" Jinu chirped. ["My next piece of life advice, my young padawan."] Cyrus intoned from within his mindscape, most unhelpfully. ["Is to never string two women along at once. That'll go sideways faster than a Newfoundland rainstorm."] Song twitched and cycled some qi. ["Quiet!"] Cyrus ignored him. ["So this is the Jo Harin I've heard tell of, eh? I can't tell – is she pretty?"] ["Yes. Quiet."] ["Ehhh, not seeing it. How old is she? Fifteen? You hankering after older women, Song m'boy? One grasswolf and you think you're ready to face the most dangerous game?"] Song's blush extended from his nose to his cheeks, and tried to hide it under more frenzied strumming. ["Quiet! Quiet!"] ["Pretty enough face, I guess. For a kid. That muscle mommy Iseul is more striking though. I'm going to repeat what I said earlier, if you start dating, things are gonna get awkward. I need to figure out how to set up these protections for my own sanity, methinks."] He could curl up and die. Yes.

Perhaps the Crimson Hunger would come and devour him right where he stood, swallowing him up with a bolt of jagged fire from Heaven. He cycled qi faster and faster against his dantian. ['Quiet! QUIET! Please! Quiet!!!"] Cyrus's only answer was a dark chuckle. Song felt motion beside him, and looked up to see Harin sweep her hair behind her ear as she took a seat. His fingers faltered, then came to a twitching halt. Harin shot him a brilliant smile.

"Hello Song. Oh, please, don't stop for me. Your singing was wonderful."

"Thank you," Song squeaked. Harin laid out her morin khuur and ran her bow across it, tuning. Several of the others pulled out instruments as well, along with dried meat, fried bread, and shaved roots. A forward thinking Yu had also brought along a cask of airag, and passed it around. The mood quickly turned from intimate to festive, as laughter, the sound of tuning instruments, and chatter erupted from the sudden party. Harin gave Song an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. They all followed me out."

"No!" Song shook his head vigorously.

"No! It's fine! What would you like to play?" Harin bit her lower lip and looked out over the crowd.

"How about Khartai Salag?" There was a general cheer. Song, Dami, and Jinu shared a look. Jinu shrugged, slowing to a more sedate rhythm on his drum. The others joined him in fits and starts, snacks and mugs of airag placed aside for the moment. Khartai Salag was a low and mournful song, meant to be sung at sunset, when the world was touched by both sun and stars, and the moon had not yet risen.

"My beloved steed, Come here, Come here My brown colts, It's getting dark, Come here, Come here Cooooeeee, Coooeeeee My white sheep, Cooooeeee, Coooeeeee It's time to go, Come here, come here! My black sheep, My dear ones, Come here, come here. Cooooeee Coooeeeee." In between the shepherd calls, the men and a few of the huskier voiced women would belt out a prolonged khoomei.

More and more people peeled off from the main caravan, until there was a full-fledged party around the saksual tree with Song and his friends at the center. Song spotted Wook dancing with a young woman from a small clan, and Tae sitting and chatting with a knot of their cousins. Juwon was seated with Seojoon, interestingly enough, the latter holding Mae in his lap as she nodded her red face sleepily. Song looked to the west.

Tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, they would reach their destination, and it would be another two months at least before they had another magical moment like this, all alone in the endless plains. Just them, the sky, and the endless grasslands. He raised his voice to the heavens, and sang.