THE CONCUBINE || TAEKOOK ||

Forty Two

The Northern Border — One Month Later

The first snow was falling when Jungkook reached the Yalu River.

The camp stretched for miles along the southern bank, tents of canvas and leather, fires burning against the cold, soldiers huddled in their cloaks, watching the northern shore where the Jurchen banners fluttered in the wind.

General Seo stood beside him, his face grim.

"They have not crossed yet," the general said. "They are waiting. For what, I do not know."

Jungkook stared across the river, at the enemy that had been gathering for months, at the war that was about to begin.

He turned from the river.

"Prepare the men," he said. "We cross at dawn."

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The morning mist hung low over the training grounds, clinging to the tall pines that lined the eastern ridge. The sound of steel rang through the cold air the clash of swords, the thud of arrows finding their marks, the shouted commands of sergeants drilling raw recruits into soldiers.

Jungkook stood at the edge of the field, his breath misting before him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He wore the armor of a warrior king black lacquered plates over dark leather, the dragon of Joseon emblazoned in silver across his chest. The crown had been left behind in the palace. Here, he was not a king sitting on a throne. He was a commander, and his men needed to see that.

General Seo, a grizzled veteran who had served Jungkook's father for thirty years, stood beside him, his face grim.

"The border villages report more raids," the general said, his voice low. "The Jurchen chieftain, Bataar, is gathering men. Our scouts say he has united three tribes already. If he takes the fourth—"

"He will come south," Jungkook finished.

The general nodded.

Jungkook watched his soldiers train—young men, most of them, farmers and tradesmen who had never held a sword before the conscription orders went out. They were clumsy, frightened, but they were learning. They were becoming soldiers.

"How long?" Jungkook asked.

"Two months, perhaps three. If the winter is harsh, the Jurchen may wait until spring. But they will come."

Jungkook's jaw tightened. Two months. Two months to prepare for a war that could tear apart everything he had built.

He turned to the general. "Send word to the southern provinces. I want more men. More supplies. And send a messenger to the Ming court we need their support if the Jurchen cross the border in force."

General Seo bowed. "At once, Your Majesty."

Jungkook turned back to the training field, his eyes fixed on the horizon, where the mountains rose dark against the pale sky.

Two months, he thought. Two months to become the warrior my father never was. Two months to prove myself to my soldiers, to my kingdom, to the enemies who think I am weak.