Dream Thing

“You fail to listen! Did I not say ‘simple task’? The contract we have with Mad Emperor Harold is for years of service. Cho-gye would hammer out such intricate written agreements prior to accepting a simple job of one assassination. His need for order became a thing that compelled him strongly—as important in his eyes as the urgency of providing for the starving babies of Sinanju. Now, when Lord Agumi made war on Lord Hawa, Cho-gye journeyed to Japan to offer his services to the highest bidder. It is said that his preconditions for accepting employment required a night and a day of courtly oratory.”

“I can imagine,” Remo said.

“Of course you cannot. Cho-gye spoke on and on, putting even the Lord himself to sleep until only the court scribe was awake to transcribe the salient points of the oratory—and he only for fear of death should he succumb to slumber. Still, both Agumi’s and Hawa’s courts managed to endure this oratory and both sought to employ Cho-gye. Thus the negotiations began. The discussion with Agumi came first, and the negotiations went for ten days. Agumi became so overwhelmed with the details that he begged off of further bargaining. Not because the price was too high, but because the negotiations themselves were so onerous. Onerous means unpleasant.”

“I know what onerous—”

“But of course you do. Cho-gye went next to Hawa, who thought previously that he had lost his chance to employ a Sinanju Master. He was on the verge of calling for surrender to Agumi rather than face certain defeat. Now, he thought, with Cho-gye it is I who shall be victorious. And, as with Agumi, Cho-gye commenced negotiations for the assassination.”

“One assassination?” Remo asked.

“Agumi wished to employ Cho-gye to assassinate his foe, Hawa, and Hawa wished to rid himself of Agumi. Certainly unlike the years of service that I negotiated carefully with Emperor Smith. And which you altered shabbily.”

“My negotiations weren’t shabby.”

“I digress. It was indeed quite shabby. Cho-gye’s discussions dragged on for weeks. Know this—Hawa had long ago succumbed to Cho-gye’s wiles and agreed to a fair but exorbitant fee for the service. You must understand that the fee was not the issue, but only Cho-gye’s obsession with covering all contingencies. This endless discussion drove Hawa mad.”

“I know exactly how he—”

“Catastrophe ensued. When Hawa could endure the torture no longer, he called Agumi to meet. Agumi was in fear of Hawa coming to an agreement with the Sinanju Master. He was in greater fear of Hawa dismissing Cho-gye unsigned, for surely Cho-gye would then approach Agumi again for more talk. Therefore, in a matter of minutes, the warlords agreed to put a halt to their conflict rather than endure Cho-gye.”

Chiun nodded to signal that the morale of the story was delivered.

Remo knitted his brows. “Peace broke out?”

“Exactly. Cho-gye was dismissed.”

“Without a fee?” Remo asked. “I don’t believe it.”

“You think I lie? You, who have never known me to speak a dishonest word?”

“I didn’t literally mean I don’t believe it,” Remo said. “I just mean, it’s an amazing thing that Cho-gye allowed it to happen and more amazing still that he wrote about it in the scrolls. Wasn’t he humiliated?”

“Of course. To lose a commission is a transgression by a Master upon all of Sinanju. The winter was very cold that year. There would have been great sorrow in the hearts of the people, for they are always aware that their old acquaintance starvation might come again at any moment to visit them, and once again they would be forced to execute the ritual of sending their babies home to the sea.”

“Uh-huh,” Remo said. “If I remember my Masters like I know I do, Cho-gye’s first assignment was also something worth putting in the scrolls. Didn’t he bring home a fortune of a thousand coins of gold from the king of an Indonesian island?”

Chiun didn’t confirm or deny.

“Well, am I right?” Remo asked. “Don’t answer. I know I’m right. So, this business with the Japanese peaceniks couldn’t have left the village destitute, unless Cho-gye had frittered away all the coins. Did he?”

“No.”

“Maybe he liked the whores in Hamhung. Is that where all the gold coins went?”

“Of course not! The coins were not frittered.”

“Not to mention all the other fees he had earned since then, and that doesn’t take into account the piles of gold from the Masters before him.”

“Perhaps the threat of starvation was less immediate than what you perceived I was implying,” Chiun declared icily. “Did you take away anything of meaning from this valuable lesson or was it all wasted breath?”

Remo considered that. He didn’t answer the question, but asked, “What happened next?”