The Kite Fighters: Chapters 5–7

They remembered his solemn round face peeping through the trappings of his regally draped palanquin.

As the royal palanquin was lowered to the ground by the King’s attendants, the brothers reacted at once as dutiful subjects.

He hoped fervently that he did not appear disrespectful, but his extended arm felt as conspicuous as a giant red flag.

He hoped fervently that he did not appear disrespectful, but his extended arm felt as conspicuous as a giant red flag.

Both boys stood up, keeping their heads bowed, but Young-sup stole a quick peek at His Majesty’s face beyond the partially opened curtains of the palanquin.

“Ah—it eludes them yet again!” he exclaimed. “It would seem that the reel does not wish to be captured!”

Young-sup’s kite had taken up nearly all his line and was so far away that its stripes could no longer be distinguished.

Young-sup immediately began the careful process of reeling in the kite. He manipulated the reel to draw in the line a little at a time.

The King wore a heavily embroidered scarlet silk gown and an elaborate jeweled cap.

The King wore a heavily embroidered scarlet silk gown and an elaborate jeweled cap.

But the King was adamant. Not just any kite would do; he wanted a kite that would fly like Young-sup’s tiger.

The whole family had a role in the endeavor. Young-sup helped by fetching supplies; he would sometimes stay to talk a little, or just to sit and watch. Their mother kept the little sisters away from the room so Kee-sup could work.

Kee-sup knit his brows, and for a fleeting moment Young-sup thought how much he looked like their father.

“It’s still not right. I don’t know exactly what it is...” Kee-sup’s voice trailed off.
Young-sup felt a familiar impatience at his brother’s artistic scruples.

Young-sup kept his head bowed throughout his father’s speech, as was proper when accepting a reprimand.

Lee was not a stingy man, but always he watched his earnings carefully.

It was such men—those with much learning and education—who were held in the highest esteem in society.

He held out a little parcel. As Young-sup looked on, Kee-sup opened the paper wrapping to discover a small ceramic jar.

Young-sup sighed in exasperation.

Every year the holiday culminated in a kite festival.

To ensure fair play, and to render a decision if both kites crashed at the same time, judges observed the competition.

Normally he prided himself on his studies; indeed, of the two brothers, it was Young-sup who most enjoyed poring over the texts for the challenge of learning the words by heart.

By the time the King’s procession had advanced up the hillside, both the kite and Young-sup were down, the kite with its line wound neatly on the reel and Young-sup on his knees with his forehead touching the ground.

The King nodded. He turned to his courtiers and gestured with one hand.

The King glanced down the hill at his coterie, then back at Young-sup.

Young-sup thought that the King looked almost embarrassed—then chided himself for having such a thought.

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.”

“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.

"It was unnecessary to push me. I would have given it to you.” Young-sup ignored the rebuke.

“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?”’

At last they slowed, then stopped, still panting and laughing. The King sobered somewhat and beckoned his entourage.

The King sobered somewhat and beckoned his entourage.

The King straightened up and spoke loudly in a regal voice.

But his eyes were twinkling, and Young-sup had to suppress a giggle.