- The Sentry’s Duty
The duty of a sentry is to protect his comrades.
The White Dragon Company guarded the main gate and the General’s command tent.
They also guarded the stables, the narrow rear passage behind the palisade, the elevated lookout post, and the key relay point for signals.
All communication was unified through them.
“Up. Move.”
So-sam shook So-un awake.
He dressed quickly.
He bound his neck, wrists, and ankles tight against the wind.
Instead of full armor, he fastened padded cotton garments and leather straps.
The cold demanded thickness.
The result made him look less like a formal soldier and more like a mountain bandit.
He finished dressing—then added another layer.
Most equipment did not fit So-un.
Shoulder guards slipped.
The breastplate hung nearly to his knees.
Wrist guards swallowed his forearms whole.
Still, he wrapped and tied everything in place.
So-sam selected the smallest and warmest pieces available and wound them around the boy.
“Wound” was the correct word.
When finished, So-un resembled a small snowman.
So-sam handed him a long spear.
“It’s yours for now. I’ll cut it shorter later.”
“Yes.”
As they stepped out, the talkative squad leader, Byeong-il, called out.
“Hey, So-sam.”
“What.”
“You really taking the kid out in this cold?”
He had been the one who questioned So-un relentlessly the first day.
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Now his tone carried something else.
“What, you want my shift?” So-sam shot back.
Byeong-il said nothing.
So-sam shoved the door open.
The wind hit them like a wall.
“Head down. Close your mouth. Don’t swallow the wind.”
“Yes.”
They climbed the narrow rear path behind the palisade.
The trail barely allowed a single horse through.
At the summit, wind tore across the round hilltop with such force it seemed ready to lift a man off the ground.
The view, however, was unmatched.
“Here?” So-un asked.
“Best view. Worst place to endure. Also the freest.”
So-sam grinned.
Two frozen sentries approached to descend.
“Cold… came alone?”
So-sam tilted his head toward So-un.
“With the kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Good luck.”
They shuffled past.
The stone lookout stood ahead—a circular structure of stacked rock with a simple roof.
Observation slits pierced the walls in all directions.
Inside, a small brazier glowed.
“Through that gap,” So-sam said, pointing downward.
“If riders come, dust rises first. See dust—light the beacon.”
Beside the stone hut stood a mound of stacked dry timber—the signal pyre.
Once inside, So-sam did not immediately observe.
Instead, he fed kindling to the brazier.
From his bundle he produced a small bird, plucked and skewered.
“What is it?”
“Bird.”
“You hunted it?”
“With a bow. I’m a fine shot.”
“Are we allowed to eat while on watch?”
“No. If caught, we’re dead. But in this cold… we’ll allow ourselves a little mercy.”
He placed the bird carefully above the flame.
Outside, the sky stretched wide.
The Milky Way cut cleanly across the dark.
Moonlight spilled over snow and plain alike, illuminating distances that felt unreal.
“Those white peaks?” So-un asked.
“Snow mountains. We call them that.”
“And the black line there?”
“The river. We call it the Black River. Not its real name, probably.”
Standing in that openness, So-un felt his chest widen.
His father once spoke of cultivating vastness of spirit.
Perhaps this was what he meant.
The world moved on regardless of personal grief.
There was no one to tell.
No need to tell.
Sorrow that could not be altered must be borne silently.
So-sam drank from his leather flask and adjusted the fire.
“Then what is that?” So-un asked suddenly.
“Dust. Far off. Moving.”
So-sam froze.
“Moving?”
“Yes. Slowly.”
The flask dropped.
In a breath, So-sam seized his spear and lunged to the northwestern slit.
He removed his helmet when it blocked his view.
His eyes narrowed.
“Twenty… fifty… a hundred…”
His voice changed.
“Enemy. Alarm! Move!”
He snatched burning logs from the brazier and sprinted to the signal pile.
Flames leapt quickly once the dry branches caught.
“Feed it! Higher!”
So-un did not hesitate.
He pulled burning wood from below and thrust it upward into the stack.
Flame surged.
So-sam ran back inside, threw open a wooden chest, and pulled out a massive horn.
He blew.
The first blast wavered, then deepened into a long, resonant call.
His face reddened with strain.
He inhaled sharply and blew again.
“Your turn!”
So-un tried.
No sound emerged.
So-sam grabbed it back.
The horn roared across the frontier.
Below, lights flared to life one after another.
Men ran between tents.
Within moments, cavalry burst from the gate.
Enemy riders.
Now clearly visible against moonlit dust and the dark ribbon of the river.
They came in formation across the wide plain near the Black River.
The beacon fire climbed higher.
The horn echoed again.
The sentries had done their duty.
They had bought time.
Soon the First Squad commander would ride out to confirm.
Soon the entire army would rise and form defensive ranks.
So-un stood beside So-sam, watching the approaching line of riders.
The quiet night had ended.