Magnificent Romance of the Three Kingdoms - Chapter 11

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“There’s a great mountain in the distance. Should we make it?”
Yeon Mu-ssang’s words spurred Myeongnim Ryeohan to stand up in his sedan chair. Pulling back the curtain, he gazed out. At the far edge of the vast, endless snowfield, a solitary, massive mountain range stretched out, lying flat like a slumbering titan. It was clearly an immense stretch of peaks, commanding both high and low elevations.
“When we get closer, we should find some deep ravines. Look for a sheltered hollow, something that can break the wind.”
“Yes, sir!” Mu-ssang answered with his unwavering, spirited shout.
Thanks to his retainers’ insistence, Ryeohan was now largely recovered. Though he could barely manage his own exhausted body, they had crafted the sedan chair to shield him from frostbite and jarring movement. Because of this care, Ryeohan’s recovery was swift.
It had been roughly a fortnight since they crossed the Greater Khingan Mountains. The cutting wind had lessened slightly but was still vicious. Even after wrapping their ears and necks multiple times with fur scarves, the gale that seemed to slice the flesh found its way into every exposed space. The old and the young suffered terribly in this intense cold.
Along the march, their company had ballooned after Eulji Jeumeun suggested collecting the scattered, thinly populated households into one central group. People had, against all odds, managed to survive even in this frozen wilderness. They were tenacious survivors.
It was unspoken but clear: no matter their nation or tribe, they must have committed some transgression and fled justice, hiding themselves in this desolate, frozen land where humanity rarely ventured. Or they were the recent offspring of those ancestors. Even in this desperate life, they had predators: bandits. There were even professional gangs who specialised in plundering these isolated spots. Ironically, in gathering these people, Ryeohan’s party had essentially become bandits in their eyes, even if the justification was protection from the other plunderers. For Ryeohan, carrying only his original loyalists meant revenge or retaliation was an impossible dream; he had to consolidate his power. And so, they were forcibly taking everyone they encountered along the way. In the end, the company they had forcibly gathered—men, women, and children alike—totalled around three hundred souls.
They gave the nameless mountain the name Cheongryeosan (淸麗山, ‘Clear and Beautiful Mountain’). It was the name for the immense range in this frozen land, a place of primeval mystery untouched by man. After three days of scouting, they finally found a place to settle: a wide, comfortable basin. A small, frozen stream ran across the front of the plain. Shaped like a gourd, the terrain was a natural fortress; simply blocking the valley’s mouth (Gok-gu) would allow them to defend against an army of a thousand.
The entire company of over three hundred and sixty people, including the new survivors, moved frantically. This was to be their home, so they quickly set up all the facilities necessary for survival. Ryeohan summoned his officers to the first hut built.
Besides Eulji Jeumeun, U Deuk-mu, Yeon Mu-ssang, and Jong Chan-mu, three other men were present. They were the elected leaders, chosen to manage roughly one hundred individuals each. The criteria for these leaders were primarily bilingualism—proficiency in both Goguryeo and Sushen languages—and physical strength. The three men present, Mol-ga-jeok, Geo-seol-dan, and Mong-mong-cheok, were the strongest among them.
“Finish the huts swiftly, so everyone has shelter from the snow. Focus on heating; we cannot have anyone freeze to death. And what about provisions?”
“For now, we should be able to last the winter on what we managed to secure last year,” replied Mol-ga-jeok (沒可赤), a moustachioed man in his mid-thirties, speaking for the new leaders.
“Hmm. Let’s get through the immediate future and then devise a long-term plan. I also believe we need to prepare for wolf attacks.”
“What makes you say that…?” Eulji Jeumeun asked, puzzled.
“He’s right. I’ve never seen this much snow in all my life,” added Geo-seol-dan (去薛段), the eldest of the three at the beginning of his forties. “Even in lighter winters, wolf packs, desperate for food, frequently attack livestock and people around this time. They’re likely appearing in our old haunts by now. Moving here did save us that immediate worry, though.”
Ryeohan elaborated for their benefit. “I saw a few wolves appear and follow us continuously. I fear they will soon gather their entire packs and launch a major assault.”
“How large is a typical pack?” Eulji Jeumeun asked Geo-seol-dan.
“Don’t even start. A few hundred is nothing. Sometimes they move in packs of thousands.” This unexpected answer came from Mong-mong-cheok (蒙蒙戚), the youngest—a sturdy, shaggy-haired young man known for his hunting skill. He was likely trying to impress the officers. When Geo-seol-dan shot him a glare, Mong-mong-cheok scuffed his foot and looked away.
“You’ve all heard it. Block the valley entrance with thick logs and dig wide, deep pits around the huts to ensure safety, even if they try to leap the perimeter! Work quickly!” “Yes, sir!” At Ryeohan’s wave of the hand, everyone rushed off.
The huts were finished out of desperate necessity. They cut down stout trees from the mountain for the frame, covered it thickly with branches from fir trees and others that kept their leaves, and then added animal hides and pelts to make the roofs waterproof.
Next, following Ryeohan’s instruction, they cut logs as thick as a man’s forearm to weave a massive, tight gate across the valley entrance—one that a wolf couldn’t squeeze its head through. This was based on the logic that if a creature’s head can’t pass, the body can’t follow. It was a folding gate, hinged in the middle by countless woven wild vines. For warmth, they deployed every brazier they had, burning even horse and cow dung to keep the inhabitants from freezing, and installed ventilation ducts.
For the last ten days, they had lost track of time due to the excavation work around the huts. Since the ground was completely frozen, they had to constantly light fires on the surface to thaw it, chipping away at the snow, topsoil, and subsequent layers. Now, huge pits, one jang (about 3.3 meters) deep, were finally beginning to take form.
Ten days. It took a grueling ten days. Day and night, everyone available—children, elders, and women—was mobilised in shifts for this desperate struggle. All the while, Ryeohan had been on tenterhooks, constantly dreading a sudden wolf attack. Now, as the defenses neared completion, he finally felt a measure of relief. Digging out the thawed surface soil took only a moment; most of the time was wasted just waiting for the ground to thaw. Fortunately, they hadn’t struck bedrock.
Taking a breather, Ryeohan ordered a feast. It was intended to foster harmony between the original Goguryeo followers and the newly incorporated families. Accordingly, the newcomers spent the day slaughtering sheep and preparing alcohol. As evening fell, a huge bonfire was lit, and the wine and meat were brought out.
The eyes of the children, who were usually drooping with sleepiness, shone brightly at the sight of the meat they hadn’t seen in ages. The men, too, were eagerly anticipating the rare chance to drink. Ryeohan knew he had to speak, so he ascended the prepared platform and offered only a few simple words. He wasn’t so thoughtless as to make a long speech in front of food.
“From this day forth, we are all one family. There is no distinction here between man and woman, nor between peoples. As your leader, I promise that we shall share joy, sorrow, and even death to the ends of this earth. So, let us all open our hearts, help one another, and forge a great destiny.”
As Ryeohan finished, everyone’s faces turned solemn, and they followed Jong Chan-mu’s lead: “We are one family! Death and life together!” “Death and life together!”
A convivial drinking party followed, and the gathering finally dispersed around the second watch of the night.
When a somewhat tipsy Ryeohan eventually returned to his hut, he was greeted by an unexpected sight: a young maiden stood there, her head bowed low, waiting for him.
“What is the matter?” he asked. The hesitant maiden replied in a tense voice, “I have been ordered by Mol-ga-jeok-nim to… serve you.”
“Hmm!” Ryeohan quietly mused and then gave her a closer look. She appeared to be around seventeen years old. Her looks were simple, at least by Ryeohan’s standards, having seen many beauties. However, she possessed a wild, vibrant health that the others lacked.
A mischievous smile spread across Ryeohan’s lips as he scrutinized her, and he asked, “Service…? Does that include night service, too?” The maiden blushed, nodding, and managed to whisper, “Yes, sir!”
Ryeohan mused again, falling into thought. ‘Even though I’ve repeatedly told them otherwise, they are terrified of me, their conqueror. If I don’t take this maiden, they will feel even more uneasy, and they won’t settle down. It seems I am in the position of having to accept a human sacrifice.’
He was a young man with bl00d rushing through his veins, and he was certainly not averse to the idea. Once he decided that this was also a matter he should pursue for political reasons, he became proactive.
“Deep down, you didn’t dislike this, did you?” At Ryeohan’s testing question, she, despite her shyness, firmly revealed her true feelings. “I have wanted to serve you since I first saw you.”
Ryeohan asked gently, “What is your name?” “Silka, sir.” “Hmph! A fine name. Come here.” “Yes, sir!”
Ryeohan led Silka to the room with his bed. He commanded her to undress. A moment later, her naked body was revealed beneath the faint light of the oil lamp. Ryeohan gently ushered her onto the bed.
The night progressed. (Details of the intimate encounter have been omitted from this translation to comply with safety guidelines.) Ryeohan lay back and extinguished the oil lamp. He now had a new bedmate.
The following night. As if they knew the pits were complete, a major wolf attack began. Even judging by the light of the fire, it looked like a massive raid of several thousand animals.
It seemed they had been delayed because they were consolidating such a large force. They were all white wolves—grey wolves that had changed their coat to white camouflage for the winter.
Howl! Howl! Howl, howl, howl!
Hundreds of them, one after another, rushed and crashed against the gate, attempting to overwhelm it. It was truly a spectacular sight, yet it was absolutely no laughing matter. The desperate, ruthless struggle for survival between two species had begun.