Ashrain

23. Durnatel Without Hooves

Shivering and with his shoulders drawn so he could sink into his scarf, Hongjoong sat on the gelding with the brand new horseshoes and beautifully trimmed hooves. As he had forecast, snow greeted him outside in a blanket thin enough that the tall stalks of grasses still peered out. The white sheen untouched by nature reminded Hongjoong of Seonghwa's ivory fur. He knew if he touched the icy beauty, it would be just as soft.

Hongjoong had wrapped his fingers into gloves, so only their tips still peeked out to hook around the reins. He had lost all feeling in them as the chilly winds kissed at every exposed patch of skin.

Wooyoung once told Hongjoong about his experience with winter's embrace. She wrapped unassuming wanderers in a false sense of security, guaranteeing them that as long as they wandered, they felt warm. But like a leech, she sucked the life force from those who didn't defy her or who coquetted with her silhouette in their peripherals for too long. When she had reached her affectionate hands for Wooyoung, he had still been a young boy, long before he knew Hongjoong. He had been out late in the evening, not noticing how frost bit at his skin and numbed his heart. When her hands had touched him, they had been icy and clawed, nothing like the charm slumbering in her arms promised.

Ever since, Wooyoung was cautious about going out in winter. The story had rattled Hongjoong enough that he was afraid to leave the house altogether the first winter after he had learned about it. He had begged Wooyoung to stay inside, too, but Wooyoung had chuckled and explained to him he spotted his prey better at that time of the year. Hunger lowered their guard, too.

Hongjoong shivered on the horse and then rolled his shoulders to bring some heat back to his body. The trip to Durnatel wasn't long enough to freeze, and he was bundled in his scarf and Mingi's heavy jacket. The animal between his legs provided soothing warmth.

Since no birds were around to sing their song anymore, Hongjoong hummed a melody to himself. He nodded politely at the few travellers passing him and saluted a couple of soldiers whose chain mails rattled with every thud of their horses' hooves.

Durnatel looked pretty in winter, though most people retreated from the view. The usually bustling streets were discarded as everyone sought the heat of the taverns or their own homes. Only a few people milled around and they were bundled up just as tightly as Hongjoong.

Hongjoong stopped one of them and asked for the owner of the horse. They pointed him to the north, and he trotted off with calls of gratitude.

The castle towered on the snow-covered hill. Its dark roofs were blanketed in snow that powdered over the grey stones as if its innocence could eradicate the countless wars they had seen. Blood clung to the place, inside and out, and while it wasn't visible to the eye, Hongjoong saw it distinctly ever since San told them about his story. Would anyone believe them if they exposed the foul happenings at the palace? Could anyone even out-rule the power of the king and his princes? The four of them had never been too publicly cruel, rather being praised as heroes for aiding the poor and defending their country against monsters and enemies.

Though Hongjoong figured, the same way he and Mingi put on masks to appeal to customers while they visited the market, the princes could also put on masks. Only that theirs were made of gold and lined with priceless gems. Nobody dared wager on those.

People scurried aside to let the scowling boy on the tall horse pass. A man cheekily asked where he stole the horse from, but when Hongjoong glowered at him, he took off. It was too cold for jokes.

Hongjoong dismounted once he reached the house described to him. It was a tall mansion, similar to the one Yeosang lived in. Hongjoong's skin crawled at the reminder that he had to visit it later. Though the discomfort was worth the peace the brothers received once they paid off their debts.