Chapter 11: Fire Dance

A storm was raging outside, lightning flashed and rain pelted the roof. But no one in the hall paid any attention. Everyone stared spellbound at the entertainer, who knew how to sing and dance so skillfully. Although only in Korean, which hardly anyone present understood, the words themselves were not important. The symbolism of the movements, the accents and the melodies could be linked to stories by everyone present.

During a break, Taka had managed to casually offer his services to the general, and his offer had been accepted with favor. Now he too was completely focused on this fascinating girl.

The men sat on the sidelines, their heads red as they watched the dancer’s lascivious movements. They barely noticed as they emptied their sake bowls and constantly refilled them.

Yun saved her best performance until the end. She called it the fire dance herself. As a demon of fire, she understood like no one else how flames moved, how they hungrily snatched at their food, lived and wanted to spread, always limited by the prison of possibilities.

Accompanied by rapid drum beats, she danced around in a whirl, stretched herself up, leaned to the side, went down on her knees. Her arms repeatedly stretched in one direction or the other.

She loved this dance more than anything, but had the problem that she couldn’t lose herself in it. If she overdid it even a little, real flames would come out of her fingertips. But she had to hold that back. She focused her energies, gathered them together.

Now it had become dangerous, like lightning before the discharge.

With the last drumbeat, she sank to the ground and bowed.

Rolling thunder outside made the building tremble.

General Sakuraba nodded, impressed.

“Dame Ahri, you really are an impressive dancer! The end of the evening could hardly have been better. Thank you so much!”

All those present agreed.

Yun bowed deeply, then stood up and left. She would wait for him in the general’s bedchamber.

The event slowly dissolved, the host withdrew and then his guests too.

The last two to leave the hall were Taka and Kazuki, who had sat as far apart as possible during the performance.

Now that they were alone and ready to leave the hall, the drunken Kazuki could no longer control himself from jabbing Taka.

“Well, Miyahara, despite your theft, I’m now sleeping here in the general’s house, and you have to get home through the storm!” he remarked with a grin.

Taka, almost at the door, stood rooted to the spot. The three musicians had just emerged from behind the paper partition where they had spent the evening. Taka barely noticed them. Slowly, he turned to Kazuki.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Ichimaru. What am I supposed to have stolen? I’m not a thief!”

His hand gripped the scabbard menacingly and his knuckles turned white.

Kazuki refused to be intimidated.

“My demon herb! You had it stolen from my palanquin!”

“Don’t talk nonsense. When was I supposed to do that?”

“Last night!”

“I wasn’t even in the shelter!” growled Taka. “Your own people probably stole it.”