precise, yet filled with passion. Her white hands flashed behind her fan, first hidden and then revealed in an intricate dance of shadow and illusion. Ameiko's slippered feet masked sound beneath the subtle shifting of silk. Her body was as drawn as a bow and as fleet as a deer.
She is a captured spirit, Hoturi thought as he watched his wife dance before the court, something wild and untamed (hat should not be held against its will.
She looked up at him behind a teasing fan, and her eyes sparkled with love. It was not a dance of courts and courtiers but a simple peasant's story of the fall of a bird, giving its life to defend those it loved. The music told the story of a hunter in the forest, chasing a wild boar. His hawk—the dancer— flew in the sky above and watched as the hunter's spear broke, as the boar began to stalk the man.
Bending the fan down, the dancer lifted her arm to mimic the flight of the hawk into the winter sky. The image was so real that several of the guests sighed in appreciation. Their eyes rose from Ameiko's motion to the heights of the ceiling, as if to see the bird vanish into the clouds.
With another movement, the creature fell to the ground, stung by the hunter's call. Ameiko dropped to her knees. Unable to resist her love for her master, the hawk returned and began to drive away the maddened boar, using her wings and beak to stab at the creature's eyes. Her fan dropped lightly to the ground, landing open and perfect at her feet as she reached once more for the heavens, but again, the hunter's call.
Each note echoed with fervor. The illusion was complete. Enraptured, the whispers of the guests fell to nothing. The music carried beyond the simple plucking of the biwa strings.
At last, Ameiko stepped forward on one arched knee, reaching a hand as if for assistance, but the music died away. The hall was silent.
The hunter was safe, the boar was dead, and the hawk, fallen from the sky, would never rise again.
The dance was finished, but for several seconds, no sound rose from the chambers. Then, with a loud boom, the Crab pounded their hands on their table, cheering at the beauty of the simple country dance. Shortly after came the awed shouts of the Unicorn, and the polite applause of the Phoenix. Even the stoic Lion, refusing at first to watch, had been drawn into Ameiko's recital. Their applause was quiet but sincere.
"My lord," Yoshi whispered into his champion's ear as Ameiko and her handmaiden bowed to the applause. "It is time to meet with the Lion."
Hoturi looked across the hall, jushin and his men were standing and glancing toward his table
The champion of the Crane nodded. Smiling at his bride, he stood and walked around the long table to her side. Without a word, he bowed before her, nodded to her companion, and gazed proudly into Ameiko's eyes. "Thank you, my wife. You were ... perfect."
"Husband, you do me honor."
Though it did not seem much, it was enough. His compliment made her cheeks glow beneath pale makeup. Her green eyes narrowed in pleasure. To be called perfect was a Kakita artisan's fondest dream, and to be called so in public by the champion of a clan—even if that man happened also to be one's husband—was a singular honor. There would be talk through the land by midwinter, and Ameiko would again be lauded with gifts and invitations to travel to other courts.
Still, she would not go. She had never traveled from the Crane lands since their marriage. Though before their marriage she had been one of the most revered dancers in the empire, now she was content to be only his wife.
Hoturi looked at her beautiful face for a moment more, remembering each curve and line of her cheek and then turned to follow Yoshi.
It was enough.
xxxxxxxx
Hoturi stepped onto the wide balcony of Kyuden Kakita and looked down at the magnificent gardens beneath him. Three stories below, the grass shone with torchlight, and the rocks of the garden path gleamed like smooth water. The
She is a captured spirit, Hoturi thought as he watched his wife dance before the court, something wild and untamed (hat should not be held against its will.
She looked up at him behind a teasing fan, and her eyes sparkled with love. It was not a dance of courts and courtiers but a simple peasant's story of the fall of a bird, giving its life to defend those it loved. The music told the story of a hunter in the forest, chasing a wild boar. His hawk—the dancer— flew in the sky above and watched as the hunter's spear broke, as the boar began to stalk the man.
Bending the fan down, the dancer lifted her arm to mimic the flight of the hawk into the winter sky. The image was so real that several of the guests sighed in appreciation. Their eyes rose from Ameiko's motion to the heights of the ceiling, as if to see the bird vanish into the clouds.
With another movement, the creature fell to the ground, stung by the hunter's call. Ameiko dropped to her knees. Unable to resist her love for her master, the hawk returned and began to drive away the maddened boar, using her wings and beak to stab at the creature's eyes. Her fan dropped lightly to the ground, landing open and perfect at her feet as she reached once more for the heavens, but again, the hunter's call.
Each note echoed with fervor. The illusion was complete. Enraptured, the whispers of the guests fell to nothing. The music carried beyond the simple plucking of the biwa strings.
At last, Ameiko stepped forward on one arched knee, reaching a hand as if for assistance, but the music died away. The hall was silent.
The hunter was safe, the boar was dead, and the hawk, fallen from the sky, would never rise again.
The dance was finished, but for several seconds, no sound rose from the chambers. Then, with a loud boom, the Crab pounded their hands on their table, cheering at the beauty of the simple country dance. Shortly after came the awed shouts of the Unicorn, and the polite applause of the Phoenix. Even the stoic Lion, refusing at first to watch, had been drawn into Ameiko's recital. Their applause was quiet but sincere.
"My lord," Yoshi whispered into his champion's ear as Ameiko and her handmaiden bowed to the applause. "It is time to meet with the Lion."
Hoturi looked across the hall, jushin and his men were standing and glancing toward his table
The champion of the Crane nodded. Smiling at his bride, he stood and walked around the long table to her side. Without a word, he bowed before her, nodded to her companion, and gazed proudly into Ameiko's eyes. "Thank you, my wife. You were ... perfect."
"Husband, you do me honor."
Though it did not seem much, it was enough. His compliment made her cheeks glow beneath pale makeup. Her green eyes narrowed in pleasure. To be called perfect was a Kakita artisan's fondest dream, and to be called so in public by the champion of a clan—even if that man happened also to be one's husband—was a singular honor. There would be talk through the land by midwinter, and Ameiko would again be lauded with gifts and invitations to travel to other courts.
Still, she would not go. She had never traveled from the Crane lands since their marriage. Though before their marriage she had been one of the most revered dancers in the empire, now she was content to be only his wife.
Hoturi looked at her beautiful face for a moment more, remembering each curve and line of her cheek and then turned to follow Yoshi.
It was enough.
xxxxxxxx
Hoturi stepped onto the wide balcony of Kyuden Kakita and looked down at the magnificent gardens beneath him. Three stories below, the grass shone with torchlight, and the rocks of the garden path gleamed like smooth water. The
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