Out of caution, they landed in darkness.

  Yi Hyun understood that there were many factions at court, and not all of them might welcome his return. He knew that Chief State Councilor Choi held considerable influence, that the Right State Councilor Kim opposed him at times, and that there were also the Left State Councilor Min and the faction of the Dowager Queen. But he did not know these officials personally, and their true intentions were not clear to him.

  Still, here, just as in Great Qing, wherever more than two people gathered, disagreements were bound to be found. Which meant that his arrival could not please everyone. He still had to make a favorable impression and win supporters, following his father’s instructions.

  Yi Hyun hoped to speak with him tonight or at dawn, as soon as he reached the palace, before the morning council of ministers. He wondered what the king would truly be like, what his voice would sound like, how he would look at him.

  A unit of royal guards awaited him at the pier. Torches flickered and hissed from the salt spray drifting in the air. After a brief greeting, the stern captain with a neatly trimmed beard reported that the horses were tied in the nearby grove and that they should hurry. Yi Hyun nodded to Han Jae-uk not to fall behind and followed the captain across the creaking boards.

  At first he thought it was a fish that had splashed, but then arrows flew from both sides, straight from the waves.

  Yi Hyun ducked on instinct, not yet fully grasping what was happening, and looked back. Behind him, the pier was lined in two neat rows with the bodies of eunuchs and maids. They had fallen exactly as they had walked — orderly and ceremonial — likely without even having time to get frightened. The guards were luckier: trained soldiers had managed to dodge or deflect some of the arrows, and several still stood. His friends, swords drawn, were already hurrying toward him from the ship.

  “Protect the prince!” the captain shouted, and a living wall formed around him, blocking all view. Torches flew into the water.

  Like in a dream, they moved step by step toward the safety of the shore and the edge of the forest. Sometimes men cried out and fell. Yi Hyun dearly wished for shields — any shields. He made a mental note that his troops in the Northern Campaign would need shields; they would be invaluable against Manchu and Mongol arrows.

  But for that campaign ever to happen, he first had to survive.

  As soon as they stepped onto the firm, wet sand, the arrows stopped. Instead, countless warriors in black attacked. Yi Hyun snatched up a fallen soldier’s spear and joined the fight. A spear did not suit him as well as a sword, but he had foolishly left his blade in the baggage, and now he could only hope to seize a better weapon in battle.

  Their numbers were dwindling.

  Of the guards protecting him, barely half a dozen remained. From the shouts and the clash of steel, another group was forcing its way toward them from the ship — he could hear Han Jae-uk’s resonant voice calling him and shouting useless commands.

  “The horses are in the forest, prince,” reminded the captain, short of breath, nodding toward the grove. It was their chance.

  “I need a sword,” Yi Hyun said. He could not run fast enough with the unwieldy spear.

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  The captain nodded, sprang forward, and knocked one of the faceless attackers down with a kick while stabbing another at the same time. Yi Hyun finished the fallen man, driving the spear into him with force, and bent to pick up the sword dropped from his hand. Just in time — an arrow hissed past overhead.

  The rising moon behind the hill had made him a target again.

  Yi Hyun froze for a heartbeat, crouching, and assessed the situation. The beach was strewn with bodies; there were fewer of the men in black now, but almost none of his own remained.

  He did not know what had happened to those still on the ship. Here on the sand, only he, the captain, and three guards were still on their feet, along with three of the friends who had traveled with him.

  Eight, not many.

  Yi Hyun adjusted his grip on the sword and shouted to the captain:

  “Run!”

  Two soldiers sacrificed themselves, covering their breakthrough. The long spears gave them a moment’s advantage to break the encirclement, but Yi Hyun had no doubt the two who stayed behind were doomed.

  He ran with all his strength, dodging one arrow after another. It seemed several archers were hidden in the grove they were rushing toward. But it was all right, in the dark forest it would be harder for them to aim.

  He only needed to reach the cover of the trees.

  The treeline was only a few steps away when five more black-clad assassins burst out from there. The last soldier had his hands slashed and cried in pain, dropping his spear. The scream ended abruptly.

  Yi Hyun had no time to look back. Five against two — it was far too many.

  He and the captain stood back to back, circling as they blocked and struck the assailants. A macabre deadly dance, endless and terrifying.

  One of the attackers jerked and dropped his arms. Yi Hyun was surprised, but used the moment to thrust into the man’s chest. The assassin collapsed, and behind him stood Han Jae-uk, grinning, his face covered in blood.

  “Hey, you are good at running, Hyun-gun,” he said, easily turning aside another attack.

  Three against four — it was far, far better. Hope stirred in Yi Hyun. The Northern Campaign — the Northern Campaign awaited him, he had to raise an army and free Joseon from the rule of Great Qing!

  “The horses are in the forest,” the prince shared. As they got together, things went more smoothly. They cut down three assassins, and the fourth filthy dog fled.

  “Who will show the way?” Han Jae-uk asked, wiping blood from his eyes with his sleeve. Yi Hyun did not know how serious his friend’s wound was, but now was not the time to check. First they had to escape.

  “Follow me.” The captain of the guard somehow was still alive, and had not even lost his broad-brimmed jeonrip.

  They ran through the forest again. Yi Hyun listened hard, trying to catch the sounds of pursuit, but heavy breathing and cracking branches drowned everything out. A pale light shimmered between the trunks; the captain pointed to it and was the first to run out into the clearing.

  Another ambush was to be expected. Yi Hyun was not even surprised. Two shadows lunged at the captain, he managed to cut one down immediately, but grabbed his side in pain as well.

  “Jae-uk!” the prince ordered.

  His friend leapt forward with a fierce roar. The fight was brief. Yi Hyun, heart pounding, leaned against a tree and peered into the brush around the clearing. It seemed no one else was there. The moon lit Jae-uk as he bent over the captain. The horses snorted and shifted from hoof to hoof.

  “Can he ride?” Yi Hyun asked.

  Jae-uk shook his head doubtfully.

  “Untie the horses,” the prince ordered. He understood the assassins were after himself. He had to flee now and send help for the wounded later. “I will send…”

  “Go,” the captain rasped.

  Yi Hyun stepped onto the clearing and reached for the reins. Jae-uk hesitated for some reason, opened his mouth in surprise, and silently fell backward. A trembling arrow jutted from his throat.

  Yi Hyun turned and looked up.

  Yes, there were no assassins in the brush around the clearing. The archer was hidden in the branches, directly above his head.

  Yi Hyun saw his unusually light eyes above the cloth covering his face, saw him drawing the bow — and understood with perfect clarity that the Northern Campaign would never happen.