Free Sword Of God by Chris Kuzneski

process, and everything about her calmed down. At least a little bit.
    “Now, what else can you tell me?”
    “About what?”
    Payne pointed to the old guy. “Him.”
    “I heard someone working out back. So I walked around the side of the house to investigate. I got halfway there when he came charging at me with
this.”
She held up the pitchfork. “I’m not armed, so I did what my father always taught me to do when attacked. I screamed.”
    “And I heard you. You did it very well.”
    Kia smiled, the stress of the moment melting away. “Thanks.”
    “What were you two arguing about?”
    “Everything! I said I wasn’t going to hurt him, but he disagreed. I told him I was Korean, but he didn’t believe me. No matter what I said, he claimed I was lying.”
    Payne nodded, starting to grasp the situation. Either the old guy was completely delusional, or he’d suffered a recent trauma. Something so significant that he’d developed some major trust issues. Why else would he be deathly afraid of Kia?
    “Does he speak English?” Payne wondered.
    She asked him in Korean but the old guy ignored her, refusing to say anything.
    “Fine,” Payne said, “then he can’t help us. We’re just gonna have to kill him.”
    The old man flinched on the ground, reacting to what Payne had said. Obviously a big mistake. Right then and there, Payne knew he spoke English. Or at least understood it.
    In a calm voice, Payne said, “Don’t worry, sir. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to see if you could understand me. And clearly you can.” He stepped forward and offered the guy his hand, but it was rejected. The old man wanted to stand on his own. “My apologies, sir. I figured since I pulled you down, the least I could do was help you up.”
    “Just like an American,” the old man muttered in a thick Korean accent. He took a moment to dust himself off— first his robe, then his pants—before finishing his thought.
    “Why do
your
people always assume that an act of kindness will make up for one of violence?”
    Payne shrugged. “Probably the same reason that
your
people always sound like a fortune cookie when you’re talking to
my
people.”
    The old man frowned. “What’s a fortune cookie?”
    “It’s not important. What is important is why you attacked my friend.”
    “She came into my yard where she didn’t belong. I was defending myself.”
    Kia objected. “I came into your yard because I was worried about you and your neighbors. And according to
sammu,
I’m allowed to enter your yard when I know you’re home.”
    Now it was Payne’s turn to be confused. “What’s sammu?”
    “It’s a tradition on Jeju. The people here are direct descendants of the Kingdom of Tamna, islanders who always prided themselves on honor and independence. The concept of sammu guarantees that this island is free of thieves, beggars, and gates. When you walked through town, did you notice the three logs that blocked the thresholds on all the fences? Those logs are known as
jeongnang.
They aren’t used as protection but rather to inform visitors if the master of the house was home or when he’d be coming back. If one log was there, he’d be back shortly. Two meant around dinnertime. Three meant he was far away from home. On the other hand, if the logs were missing, you were welcome to pay him a visit.”
    Payne glanced at the old man. “No log means she wasn’t trespassing.”
    “Not only that,” Kia added, “but he doesn’t
have
a log. He has a huge wooden gate. I’m surprised his neighbors let him get away with that. It’s disrespectful to the entire village.”
    The old man bristled, unwilling to be insulted by two strangers. “One shouldn’t mock what one doesn’t understand.”
    Payne frowned. “Meaning?”
    “If you had my past, you’d have a gate, too.”

13
    Shari Shasmeen was a lot of things, many of which caused her problems in this part of the world.
    For one, she was an American. Born and raised