The Kite Fighters

by Linda Sue Park

  Young-sup rose to his feet. His mind worked furiously to find the right words. The King's kite was nearly finished; Kee-sup had only the smallest of details to attend to. "Your Majesty, my brother begs your forgiveness. He knows you are waiting, but he—he wishes to make sure the kite is perfect in every way for you."

  The King nodded. He turned to his courtiers and gestured with one hand. "All of you are to take the palanquin and wait at the bottom of the hill."

  "Your Majesty does not wish any of us to remain?" The man who seemed to be the adviser spoke.

  "No. I have no need of assistance. I am merely going to fly a kite." The King seemed impatient.

  Young-sup left his kite on the ground and began to follow the others. "Not you," said the King. "You stay."

  ***

  The guards, servants, and adviser marched down the hill with the empty palanquin. Then the King turned to Young-sup. "I am thinking that I should practice before I fly my new kite."

  "Your Majesty is very wise." Young-sup hesitated. "If there is any way I can be of assistance..."

  The King glanced down the hill at his coterie, then back at Young-sup. "Yes. There is one thing, to begin with. I recall you and your brother last time. You were calling out, shouting to each other. In my travels through the city streets I have heard other boys talk like this."

  He paused for a moment. Young-sup thought that the King looked almost embarrassed—then chided himself for having such a thought. Why would the King feel ashamed in front of a lowly subject like himself ?

  The King continued, "I wish to learn this kind of speech. It cannot be done in the presence of others. But here, on this hillside, I wish for us to speak to each other as you did to your brother."

  Young-sup was horrified. Talk to the King like a brother? Me mumbled, "I could try. If that is what Your Majesty desires."

  The King spoke with what sounded almost like a sigh. "It is what I desire, but perhaps it is not possible. For either of us."

  An awkward silence fell between the two boys. Young-sup felt fidgety but forced himself to remain still. He looked down the hill at the Kings attendants and wondered what it would be like to be a boy giving commands to grown men.

  Giving commands ... Young-sup's face brightened suddenly. He bowed his head to the King. "Your Majesty?"

  "Yes?"

  "You could make it a command."

  "A command?" The King looked puzzled—then broke into a grin. "Ah, I see! It must be done correctly, then. What is your name?"

  "My father is Rice Merchant Lee, Your Majesty. My name is Young-sup, and my brother is Kee-sup."

  "Lee Young-sup. When we are alone, you are to speak to me as you speak to your brother. I hereby command you!"

  And for the first time Young-sup and the King laughed together.

  ***

  The King was a good flying student. While lacking Young-sup's natural instinct for flying, he still possessed a better understanding of the wind than Kee-sup had at first. His attempts to launch the tiger kite on his own were unsuccessful, but he did very well at keeping the kite in the air once Young-sup helped him get it there. On Young-sup's advice, the King took off his heavy robe to allow him freer movement. All afternoon the two boys took turns flying, until the sun began to dip below the hilltop.

  It was not so difficult for Young-sup to teach the King about flying. To teach him about speaking was another matter entirely.

  Young-sup began by explaining. "You know the polite form of speaking—how you use different words to speak to someone older or someone in a higher position? For example, when I thank my father for something, I must use formal words—'Father, I appreciate your kindness.' But to our servant Hwang I might say, 'Thanks, Hwang.'"

  The King was holding the reel. He looked doubtful and stared up at the kite for a moment. Then his face cleared a bit. "I remember my lessons, when I was about eight years of age. The court ministers were most annoyed. They kept repeating that I no longer had to address anyone as a superior."

  Young-sup listened in astonishment. "Not even your parents?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

  The King spoke solemnly. "My father, His Late Majesty, had passed on to the Heavenly Kingdom. When I became King, the ministers said that no one, not even my mother, the Dowager Queen, was considered my superior."

  Young-sup tried to imagine such a thing. He couldn't, and shook his head in wonder.

  The King went on, "Instead, my tutors explained that I must always consider carefully whatever I say. They told me that every time I speak, I represent the nation.

  "I did not think much of it then, when I was young—I had only to learn it, to please them. But now I am aware that I have spoken in only one way for as long as I can remember. Whereas everyone else, it seems, has different ways of speaking. This is what I wish to learn—these differences."

  Young-sup thought hard. How could he explain something that came to him as naturally as breathing? He was silent so long that the King finally spoke.

  "Perhaps," His Majesty said wistfully, "it is not something that can be learned."

  Young-sup scuffed at the hard ground with his heel a few times to loosen the soil, then sat down. The King sat next to him. Young-sup showed the King how the reel could be planted in the earth; when the wind was just right, as it was today, the kite could fly even without a flier.

  They watched the kite for a few moments. Finally Young-sup asked a question. "Do you ever get angry?"

  "Of course."

  "What do you say when you get angry?"

  "I express my displeasure. If I am angry enough."

  Young-sup rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly. He had to think of another way. "Your Majesty, am I truly free to do as I wish now? To teach you the way I speak with my brother?"

  "Of course. I have ordered you to do so."

  "All right. Let's try something different."

  Young-sup picked up the reel, handed it to the King, and stood; the King followed his lead. Then, as the King looked up at the kite, Young-sup shoved him off balance and snatched the reel away from him.

  The King staggered backward, then tripped and fell. The watchful guards at the bottom of the hill responded immediately. They charged up the hillside to protect and give aid to the King.

  The King jumped to his feet. Without taking his eyes from Young-sup's face, he raised his hand and stopped the guards with a single gesture. They waited where they were, halfway up the hill.

  "If it was the reel you desired, why did you not ask me?" The King's voice was stern, his face unsmiling. "It was unnecessary to push me. I would have given it to you."

  Young-sup ignored the rebuke. "Your Majesty—when I pushed you just now, what were you thinking? Your exact words, as they were in your mind."

  The look on the King's face changed from angry to confused. "I was thinking, Why did you do that?"

  "Good!" Young-sup exclaimed. "If it were my brother, that is what he would have said. He would have said something like, 'Why did you do that, you leper?'"

  "Ah! So he would have said the words in his mind, just as they were?"

  "Yes, that's right."

  The King frowned, considering. "And this is how you always speak?"

  "No. As I said, I must still use the polite form of address to my parents, my tutor—anyone older. But to others my own age or younger, yes. And also with my brother." Young-sup paused for a moment. "Although now that he has been capped, I'm supposed to speak politely to him as well."

  The King nodded. He waved the guards back down the hill, then turned to Young-sup and took a deep breath. "All right. I shall try now." He grabbed for the reel. "Give that back to me, you ... you leper!"

  Young-sup laughed. He held the reel away from the King, then dashed away. The King chased after him. The two boys dodged around the hillside, exchanging insults and laughter as they ran.

  At last they slowed, then stopped, still panting and laughing. The King sobered somewhat and beck
oned his entourage. As they brought his palanquin back up the hill, he turned to Young-sup. "I'll watch for your kite," he said. "When I see it, I'll come out. If I can."

  The King's men had drawn within earshot now. The King straightened up and spoke loudly in a regal voice. "Tell your brother I expect him at the palace soon. You are to come with him."

  But his eyes were twinkling, and Young-sup had to suppress a giggle. "Yes, Your Majesty. It shall be so."

  Chapter Eight

  The two boys and their father walked in silence. Under Kee-sup's arm, wrapped carefully in a linen cloth, the precious kite was making the journey to the palace.

  Kee-sup's use of the gold leaf had been daring—and successful. Using a stiff brush and the blunt edge of a knife, he had flicked and spattered the gold leaf over the whole surface of the kite paper. The rain of minuscule gold dots had resulted in a fine sheen that glowed faintly when the light touched it. Once the kite was in the sky, the sun's rays would make it glitter and shine like real dragon scales.

  But this had not been tested. The boys had argued about whether or not the kite should be flown before being presented to the King. Young-sup, of course, had been eager to try it out, but Kee-sup had prevailed, fearful of damage to the kite.

  Now, as they walked toward the palace, there was little to say. Either the King would like the kite or he would not. Nothing they did or said now could change that.

  But Young-sup knew that the kite was more than just a gift for the King. In a few years Kee-sup would take the difficult series of examinations required of those who wished to be employed by the royal court. Such coveted positions were awarded based on the examination results; however, it was well known that those in favor at the court were looked on with added grace. If the King were pleased with the kite, it would do nothing to hurt Kee-sup's chances.

  Young-sup carried an extra burden of worry as he walked alongside his brother. He had not told Kee-sup about his recent encounters with the King on the hillside.

  The King had come out to fly with him several times, and Young-sup always looked forward to their meetings. At first he told himself that he did not wish to worry Kee-sup by talking about the King while the work on the kite was still progressing. But he knew in his heart that he secretly enjoyed his special friendship with the King, a friendship in which Kee-sup had no part.

  As they approached the gates, Young-sup comforted himself with the knowledge that there would probably be other people at the court when they arrived and that the King would be speaking to him only as a subject. Perhaps he would not have to explain anything.

  The immense gates opened wide, and the crowd of onlookers that always seemed to hover around the palace watched in surprise and envy as the three Lees were permitted entry. They were escorted across the huge outer court by a pair of guards, who stopped before a closed door.

  Here the boys' father left them. "This is for you to do," he said, addressing Kee-sup. "I will see you at home." They bowed to him and watched as he crossed the courtyard to the outer gates.

  With one of the guards the boys stepped into a small antechamber. The huge carved doors opposite them were opened by two other guards, revealing a grand hall. The boys barely had time for a quick gape at the splendid silk hangings and other priceless works of art before they spied the throne at the far end of the hall. At once they dropped to their knees.

  "You may rise and approach." The King's voice seemed to echo down the long empty space.

  The brothers got to their feet and walked toward the King. They saw that he was flanked by several advisers and guards.

  When they were within a few paces of the throne, Kee-sup unwrapped the kite and laid it flat across his two hands. He held it out before him as he bowed his head.

  The King glanced at it without apparent interest. Then he spoke loudly. "Go, all of you. Leave us." The adviser whom Young-sup knew from the hillside seemed to hesitate, but a glare from the King had him hastily retreating after the others.

  The King waited until the huge carved doors had closed again. Then he hopped down off the throne and took the kite from Kee-sup's outstretched hands. His face shone with open delight.

  "This is wonderful! Better than I could have imagined. Look at how it sparkles!" He tilted the kite to and fro for a few moments, then looked at Kee-sup. "This is even better than the tiger kites!"

  Kee-sup stammered as he answered. "I—I am honored that Your Majesty is pleased with the kite."

  Young-sup saw the startled look on Kee-sup's face and sensed at once the source of his brother's discomfort. He cleared his throat and addressed the King. "I think you will have to command him, the same as you did with me."

  "Oh, that. Yes, of course. Kee-sup, isn't it? Lee Kee-sup, when we are alone, you are not to address me as the King. Just act as if I'm any old—any old—"

  "—pig-brain," Young-sup finished for him.

  Kee-sup looked for a moment as though he might faint. But the King only laughed and gave Young-sup a shove.

  "Who are you calling pig-brain, you cow-dung?"

  Young-sup would have continued the banter, but one look at the shocked and confused expression on Kee-sup's face gave him pause.

  "Brother, I'm sorry. The King has been coming to the hillside to fly with me. I meant to tell you....I just—I just never found the right moment." He looked at Kee-sup pleadingly. "It's all right, brother. We always make sure no one can hear us, like now. Besides"—and his joking tone returned—"what can I do? The King has commanded me to call him a pig-brain!"

  At that Kee-sup laughed and appeared to relax, but Young-sup could see that he was still not entirely at ease.

  The King, too, seemed to sense it, and began to speak more seriously. "I am glad you came, because I've been thinking about something, and I need to talk to you—to both of you," he said. "Come."

  He led them through a side door into a smaller room. There they sat on cushions around a low table. The King summoned a servant and ordered tea and sweets to be brought. The three boys ate and drank in silence. Then the King put his cup down.

  "I want to talk to you about the New Year kite festival," he said.

  ***

  The New Year holiday was in the next moon, and like the brothers themselves, the King was most excited about the kite festival. He was personally planning the events of the final day.

  "I was thinking about competing in the festival myself," the King explained.

  Young-sup felt a wave of panic. Would he have to fly against the King?

  But the King was still speaking. "I decided not to, for a couple of reasons. First, I don't think I'm good enough yet. I can't launch by myself every time. And I need a lot more practice with fighting maneuvers. But that's not really the most important reason." He paused, his face sober. "If I fly in the competition, I don't think anyone will try to beat me. I'm the King—so everyone will just let me win. It wouldn't be a real competition. Don't you agree?"

  The brothers nodded; Young-sup had been thinking that very thing.

  The King sighed. "But I still want to be part of it, somehow. I thought that even if I don't compete, perhaps my kite can." He looked at his companions expectantly. "Kee-sup, you have made the kite—a kite truly worthy of a King. It deserves to be in the competition."

  Kee-sup bowed his head in appreciation.

  "As for you, Young-sup—I want you to fly it for me. But I don't want anyone to know that you're my flier. If people find out, it would be the same as if I were flying it myself—no one would try to beat you."

  Young-sup felt his heartbeat quicken. Blood rushed to his face, and he could sense that he must be as red as a peony blossom. He was dazzled by the thought. To fly for the King! It was an honor beyond imagining.

  Through the haze of surprise, he heard Kee-sup's voice. "I speak for both my brother and myself when I say that this could be kept a secret from all except our father. We could not keep such an honor and responsibility from him."

  "Of course,"
the King answered at once. His voice grew thoughtful. "It is good that you feel such a duty to your father." Something about the way he said this reminded the other two that the King himself had no father, and for a moment the room was filled with a heavy silence.

  "Well, then," the King said briskly. "It's agreed. Enough talk—let's go outside."

  And he led the way through the palace, through room after vast room filled with wondrous treasures—jade carvings, ivory statues, enormous chests inlaid with mother-of-pearl. They saw no other people, except an occasional shadowy servant or a guard standing motionless by a door.

  At last they reached the royal gardens. The King pulled something from his pocket and tossed it into the air, and the three boys at once began a rousing game of kick-the-shuttlecock.

  The "cock" was a coin, wrapped around and about its central hole with strips of paper. The ends of these strips formed tassels that fluttered gaily and made a pleasant sound as the cock was kicked by the side of the foot. The object was to try to keep the cock off the ground as long as possible without using one's hands.

  The King proved to be a wizard at the game. He juggled the cock inside his foot, outside, on his knee, and back again, ten, twenty, thirty times without missing. After they had kicked the cock among them for a while, the King gave a solo demonstration. Kee-sup counted out loud for the King while Young-sup clowned around, trying to distract him. The rest of the afternoon passed without any thought or talk of kites or kingship. The brothers departed from the palace with a promise to come again soon.

  On the way home Young-sup couldn't stop himself from enthusing over the splendor of the palace and the fun they had had. He did not speak of the honor that had been bestowed on him, although the thought never left his mind and seemed to float beneath his every word.

  Soon, however, he noticed his brother's quietness.