“I have heard that there was once a village on the steppe that nomads raided often,” the envoy said, gazing thoughtfully from the saddle at the peasants dismantling a heap of stones.

  Both great princes and the envoy, accompanied by guards, had come to make sure that this time the collapse would not be forgotten or overlooked. First, however, they had had to find the old mine entrance buried under snow, then clear a path for the wheelbarrows, and only after that did the frozen peasants with pickaxes and hoes set to work on the stones. And in order to brighten the waiting somewhat, the envoy began exercising his eloquence.

  Yi Ho was himself a rather proud man, but the envoy’s arrogance sometimes surprised even him. One might have thought that the “eyes and ears of the emperor” had turned into the emperor himself. Still, this made it easy enough to play along with the official’s excessive self-regard.

  “Indeed?” Yi Ho remarked politely. The envoy, with his long braid and stand-up collar, was himself a Manchu, a nomad. It was important not to misstep here.

  “A common story,” the envoy snorted meanwhile. “So, the village suffered from raids. One of the villagers decided to meet the bandits with weapons, but he was badly beaten. Another time, his elder brother also tried to defend the gates, but he lost as well. What do you think of that?”

  “What do we think about defending a village from… nomads?” Great Prince Dojun repeated, sounding half surprised, half amused. The irony of the question, coming from the envoy’s mouth, had clearly not escaped him either. The village resembled Joseon, and the nomads resembled the Great Qing.

  “Do not be rude, Hyun,” Yi Ho cut in. “It seems to me that the esteemed Envoy Zhao is speaking of the fact that the brothers ought to resist the attack together. The emperor of Great Qing calls the king of Joseon his younger brother. Together they are stronger.”

  The envoy suddenly burst into loud laughter, drawing surprised glances from guards and peasants alike.

  “Exactly so. That is precisely what I meant. Ah-Xian, what are you distracted by? You seem absent-minded today.”

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  That pointed familiarity in addressing the younger prince irritated Yi Ho as well. It was just as well that the envoy did not attempt to address him by name. The empire might have subdued Joseon, but royal blood still stood above nameless officials.

  “Forgive me. There, a hand,” the younger prince pointed toward the collapse. He drew his brows together in confusion. “I am not mistaken, am I?”

  Yi Ho peered in the indicated direction, then summoned the captain of the guards and ordered that part of the rubble be cleared. The younger prince was right. The elongated gray shape among the stones did indeed turn out to be someone’s elbow. People hurriedly pulled the stones away around it, as though they could truly help the poor soul who had died a month earlier, and then fell silent, clustering around the body that had been revealed.

  A little to the side, Yi Ho noticed motionless, half-transparent figures with faces lowered. He narrowed his eyes, peering at them, and realized with surprise that he was seeing ghosts. The crown prince had once looked like that as well. But mortals should not see spirits.

  Or could he see them because he himself was one of them?

  The ghosts slowly moved toward the body uncovered in the collapse and mingled with the crowd of the living. They too wished to see who had been found.

  Of course, the features of the dead man were impossible to make out. Once, he had been a man, apparently even well dressed. Through the dirt and snow, scraps of a good ramie durumagi could still be seen. The guards carefully transferred the body onto a mat and covered it with another, to be taken later to the mortuary.

  “Does anyone recognize him?” Great Prince Dojun asked the peasants who were clearing the rubble.

  “It’s hard to say, to be honest,” the eldest of the workers scratched the back of his head, then caught himself and bowed as required. “At first glance it’s impossible to tell, and so much time has passed. Perhaps once we have recovered everyone, then we’ll understand who is who?”

  The prince turned, once again today trying to catch Yi Ho’s eye. Yi Ho grimaced, but nodded in agreement. At least his younger brother had learned to ask permission before making decisions.

  “It is already clear that there really were people under the collapse,” he addressed the envoy, while Great Prince Dojun spoke with the peasants about something. “I do not think it is necessary for us to remain here for the entire excavation. The guards will ensure that everyone is recovered and transferred to the magistracy for investigation and identification before burial. If this matter interests you, I shall order a copy of the report translated for you.”

  “Yes, that will be more convenient and warmer,” the envoy agreed, still baring his teeth in a smile. He nudged his horse forward, rode closer to the body, leaned down from the saddle to examine the legs protruding from under the mat, and returned. “Let us leave this place. There is no need to wait until evening.”