That’s right, Ko thought. This really is foolish.
It would be simply senseless to rise up in revolt just because one descendant of that dynasty happened to live.
Rebellions were quickly suppressed if no one joined in. Those who would follow were those who’d benefit from the downfall of the dynasty that was currently in power. The downfall of the current emperor would have a worse impact on salt merchants and similar individuals than that of the previous emperor would have. The emperor had likely already warned his ministries and moderation envoys of the threat, so it was obvious that even if Jikei were to raise an army, it’d be swiftly dealt with. A small, one-off rebellion would act as nothing more than a warning signal.
Still, for Choyo, that would be enough. He had bid Ko go to the Northern Mountains in order to send such a warning. It would be enough to ensure the execution of the Ran Dynasty’s remaining descendant—and her elimination was precisely Choyo’s goal. After all, she was the obstacle who was getting in the emperor’s way.
If a rebellion were to occur, Ko would be given the death penalty for his involvement—but if the Northern Mountains’ tribes didn’t want to play along, they’d kill him for proposing such an idea. Either way, Ko was marching toward his own death.
There’s no way the Saname clan will get off scot-free.
Choyo wouldn’t be able to feign ignorance once Ko was involved in the whole situation—he was his second son. Ko couldn’t help but feel that his father was making a mistake, and yet he’d gone along with his instructions regardless.
Am I really that desperate for my father’s approval? Ko deridingly asked himself. He doesn’t even care whether I live or die.
Ko knew that at the end of the day, he was the most foolish of them all. Being treated like he was expendable just made Ko long for acceptance even more. He knew full well how idiotic and pointless that was, but he just couldn’t help it.
“There it is.”
Jikei stopped in his tracks and pointed ahead. A snow-covered settlement had come into sight, and a cluster of houses stood on a gently sloped clearing. These houses were built on top of stone foundations, with rocks piled up on top of one another to create a level surface. They had thatched roofs and their walls were constructed from intersecting wooden beams. One of the properties, set back from the others and standing on a more elevated patch of land, was markedly larger than the others. It also consisted of several separate buildings.
“That residence belongs to the chief of the Yusoku lineage.”
Ko breathed in and steadied his nerve.
“The whole community is probably in the middle of raking snow right now. Well, they call it digging snow around here—they’d never manage to clear any of it with a rake. Anyway, make sure you don’t disturb them,” said Jikei.
“It’s not a very big settlement, is it?”
“This isn’t the Yusoku lineage’s only settlement—although they have fewer than they once did. And that’s the case for all the tribes, not just them.”
Ko had heard that there were as many as six tribes living in the Northern Mountains in total. The Yusoku lineage was said to be the biggest tribe of them all, which seemed to suggest that the total population of the Northern Mountains wasn’t especially high—even if the Yusoku lineage did have multiple settlements.
“I wonder what they’ll think about the eruption on Je Island…” said Ko.
Ko and Jikei had been told about it a few days earlier—and they were probably going to be the first people to pass that message on to the Yusoku tribe. Ko couldn’t help but wonder how Jikei was going to share the news and how he was going to use it to his advantage. He took a look at him out of the corner of his eye.
“It’d be a different story if a volcano had erupted on the mainland, but this is an underwater volcano we’re talking about—and one on an outlying island, no less. I doubt they’ll be all that interested,” Jikei answered plainly.
It was impossible to infer the man’s intentions from his face. If Jikei hadn’t come here to incite a rebellion, then there were only two more possibilities that Ko could think of.
Perhaps he’s here to do some investigating.
To Ko, this seemed more probable. The emperor had personally granted Jikei the position of salt and iron envoy, which was evidence of the trust the emperor had in him. He and Jikei were probably personally acquainted with each other and had formed a close relationship. Taking that into consideration, it was plausible that the emperor had ordered him to go to the Northern Mountains to get a sense of what was happening there. The fact that he used to be a chief vassal in the previous dynasty was a detail that was best left forgotten.
If his suspicions were right, then what was Ko supposed to think of Jikei? How was he supposed to treat him? Jikei had already realized that Ko was there to stir up a rebellion. Did he think it wiser to leave Ko do as he wished so he could observe how the tribes of the Northern Mountains would react? That’s how it seemed to Ko, at least.
Should I keep that in mind while I carry out my mission? Ko wondered to himself. No, but then…
Ko was jittery and anxious, and those feelings left him with a burning sensation in his chest. The presence of someone as inscrutable as Jikei was messing with his head and clouding his judgment.
“Ko,” Jikei, having begun walking ahead of him, turned around and called out his name. “When you’re living in the mountains, death is never far away. It’s much more common for babies to die here than it is in the flats. I’m always hoping that those who live here get the opportunity to grow old peacefully. Life is precious—and naturally, so is yours.”
Jikei let out a laugh, but there was sorrow in his eyes.
“Do not rush to your death. You’re still young.”
Ko didn’t say anything back. As they both exhaled, their breath turned to white clouds in the crisp, cold air before it drifted behind them.