As it turned out, Master Sang-hyuk was right. The Black Masks were from enemy Southern Kingdoms.
There were five kingdoms to the south. They had joined together with will and alliance and were attempting to take over the three larger southern, northern and western countries.
And now the fate of all three countries was resting on Minho's shoulders.
As Master Sang-hyuk had said, he was to be trained here until he was ready to lead the war that was coming. Whether he liked it or not, he would soon realize that it was necessary for the outcome to be in their favor.
Minho had refused to come out of his room for the first week, clinging to Hei-ran like their lives depended on it. He hardly ate the food they gave him. He only fed Hei-ran.
Master Sang-hyuk wanted to train him.
Minho lay in his bed, staring up at the rock ceiling. He didn't want to train with him... he didn't want to learn to kill more and more people. He didn't want to be in charge of all those men who might die if he made a mistake.
But, as Master Sang-hyuk pointed out, if he didn't, they would all die anyway.
Minho... that wasn't him. He was just... him. He wasn't like General Jeon, or any of the Captains or Generals. He wasn't made to do things like this. He just wanted to go home to Jisung and Yeong and live like they had. Together.
But Master Sang-hyuk was not letting him leave this place. Until he agreed to train with him.
He had the connections, the people, the rank, the power, but he didn't have the, what was it... the fighting spirit that those generals and fighters had. How did Master Sang-hyuk even see that in him?
Hei-ran was having a fit at the moment. Minho stood up from his bed and walked over to her bed. "What's wrong baby?"
She used the bathroom.
Minho held his breath as he quickly changed her and then redressed her in the tiny plain hanbok that these scoundrels had managed to find. They clearly didn't have children around these parts very often.
"You hungry?" Minho lifted her to his shoulder and glanced at the sliding door before he sighed and pulled it open.
There were four masked guards outside his room that tensed as he walked out, hands on their swords.
"Relax, I'm not going to try and kill you if I have a baby," Minho muttered as he stalked by, heading towards the kitchen where they had an old woman, Mrs. Bae that would always warm milk for them.
"Hello?" Minho peeked his head in and found Mrs. Bae indeed working in the kitchen as she washed vegetables.
"Oh!" she looked up with a wide smile as she spotted little Hei-ran in Minho's arms. "Is our Hei-ran hungry?"
"Yes," Minho leaned forward as Mrs. Bae took Hei-ran from his arms and held her to her chest. "I never see young men like you taking care of their children these days," she shook her head as she walked over to the other end of the kitchen. "We're starting her on soft foods, right?"
"Yes."
"I'll take care of her," Mrs. Bae waved him off. "Go rest. Or do whatever you need to do."
Minho hesitated.
"Young man, I've had nine children. I've got her," she bowed her head and turned away.
Minho sighed before he walked out of the kitchen. He found Master Sang-hyuk waiting for him.
"Let's go talk," Master Sang-hyuk murmured as he put his arm on Minho's back. "Not about that. Let's just talk."
Minho wanted to pull away but he found himself being pulled along.
"I have a question," Minho declared as they circled around the training area, many of the young people stopping what they were doing to watch Minho walk by. "Why did you agree to that marriage proposal? Why did you not cancel it after Jisung was born?"
"Do you wish I had?"
Minho thought for a moment. "No, I'm just curious if you knew that your son was going to marry a man because of it."
"I did know, and I wanted it that way," Master Sang-hyuk gave him a small smile. "When you first came to visit all those years ago, I knew your character. You were kind and loving and would take care of those you loved. I wanted that for my son, and I knew back then that there would be a time when my son and my country would need someone like you to protect it."
"Are you serious?"
"Completely."
"Wow," Minho laughed. "You're really unusual."
"Prince, there is nobody quite like you," Master Sang-hyuk continued. "Which is why I need you, and you can not be replaced. Don't you see? We're wasting time," he stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Minho. "We are losing time. We only have a little bit. I need to teach you what you need to know."
"Why?" Minho asked, staring right back. "Why should I? I hear your reason and they don't seem like good reasons to me."
"Even if you think that, you can not tell me that we are not in danger now, and that you should do your part."
Minho blinked. "No, I can't. But that doesn't mean that I should be on the front lines. I'm not suited for that."
"Well," Master Sang-hyuk stepped back with a chuckle. "If you say so. Now, tomorrow at dawn, you're going to wake up and we're going to start, whether you like it or not. I'm done waiting and you're done sitting around."
And it didn't look like Minho had a choice.
~oOo~
Sure enough, the next morning at dawn, Minho was wrenched from his sleep by cold hands that pulled him out of bed.
"AHHH!" Minho screamed as he was yanked forward, a thin robe pulled over his shoulders, and he was dragged out of the room.
"Let go!" Minho yanked his arms out of the grip of whoever was dragging him. He couldn't tell, they had masks on.
They dumped Minho right outside in a field full of green grass. "You..." Minho seethed as he stood up, his eyes adjusting to the dim light outside.
Master Sang-hyuk stood in front of him. "Well isn't that something."
"Sure is," Minho muttered as he looked around.
"First day. I want you to run this entire field until the sun is high in the sky, and then I want you to get on a horse," he pointed to a few targets that were set up along the opposite side of the river. "And if you miss a target, you take that horse two laps around as well."
"That's..." Minho narrowed his eyes.
"Get started!"
And there he was left alone. They knew that he wouldn't go anywhere without Hei-ran, who was still inside. Funny, these guys.
Minho stared up at the sky. The sun could hardly be seen. He sighed and lowered his head.
Whenever he did something, he always did it to his best ability. Would this be any different?
Well, if they weren't going to let him go, he would just have to be the best then, wouldn't he?
He looked around at the large field. Run it until the sun is high in the sky. He could do that... probably.
Minho set off around the edge of the field, steady as he could. He didn't usually run like this, he used to. When he was younger and more fit.
~oOo~
By the time Master Sang-hyuk returned, Minho was still running, sweat pouring down his face which was bright red as the sun had come out from hiding.
"That's enough!" he called as Minho came to a rest on the other end of the field. He walked over to the river and took a sip of the cool, fresh water. He washed his face and arms down quickly before standing as Master Sang-hyuk approached him.
"Take a few moments. Then get back up and get on that horse," he pointed to a tall brown stallion that was standing in the shade of the mountain. His eyes flicked wildly towards him.
"Great," Minho wasn't a bad shot, but he wasn't sure about this horse. For some reason... something was off about him.
Minho sat by the stream side for a few moments like Master Sang-hyuk had said before he walked over to where the horse was standing. A quiver of arrows was tied to the saddle and an arrow rested on the ground.
Minho took the arrow from the ground and held it. Not too heavy, not too light. He pulled it back. Not bad. He could use this well.
Minho was more worried about the horse.
He reached forward and brushed his hand over his neck, the stallion stamping his feet under him. "Some temper, huh?"
Minho swung up on his back, the stallion nearly bucking under him. He held the reins tightly as he reined him in, turning him around carefully towards the targets.
He kicked him into a gallop.
And he had never been on a more bouncing saddle.
It wasn't actually the saddle. The horse, his gate was just really awful. He reared back and didn't move in a straight line. Minho clenched his teeth and reached for an arrow, knocking it into the bow and pulled back, trying to see where he was aiming as he was bucked around.
He let the arrow fly.
Sure enough, it missed almost completely.
"Let's take a round and get you settled down, huh?" Minho muttered as he took the stallion on a quick run twice around the field. As he did, he shortened the reins and pulled him in more.
Don't mess with me, he was saying. In horse language, that was.
The stallion snorted and pulled forward, trying to gain rein.
Minho pulled back.
"Quit it!" he muttered as he took the second round.
This time when he went by the targets, he sent the arrow flying faster before, making sure his arm didn't shake as he did so.
The arrow didn't miss completely this time, hitting the target, but far from the center.
Minho sniffed before taking the stallion in a circle and going again.
He went again and again until he didn't miss. By the time, it was nearly dark.
~oOo~
For the next few days, he was dragged out of bed early and forced to do some strange exercise, now finding that the others being trained around him would turn and stare at him when they passed by the openings in the walls.
He was getting better, slowly. But these skills, were they really something he needed to learn like this?
Minho found himself thinking of Jisung more and more these days. His longing to return home to him was growing and growing the more he stayed away.
More like was forced to stay away.
One morning, Master Sang-hyuk stopped him on his runs early and handed him a long wooden stick. "Take this. Fight him," he waved a tall, large-built young man over.
He wasn't wearing a mask but his face was schooled into coolness.
Minho glanced at the stick in his hand and the large one in the young man's hands and groaned. He was getting a beating today.
Turns out he was right. Before he could even move, he was swept off his feet and sent flying with a blow to the knees.
He groaned as he stood up. Sweeping the legs?
He gritted his teeth and turned around, sending the stick's butt into the side of his opponent who grunted on contact.
Minho then spun so that he was standing behind him. The running had made him faster these days. He slammed the stick into the other young man's back and sent him stumbling.
Before the young man turned and hit him in the head, knocking him out quickly.