Bridge Of Birds (9 page)

I caught my breath.

A ghost was dancing toward us to the hypnotic rhythm of the flute. Bright Star was so
lovely that my heart felt as though a hand were squeezing it, and I found it difficult to
breathe. She wore a long white robe that was embroidered with blue flowers, and she was
dancing down the path with indescribable grace and delicacy. Every gesture of her hands,
every movement of her feet, every subtle swirl of her robe gave meaning to the word
perfection, but her eyes were wide and desperate.

Li Kao leaned over. “Look behind you,” he whispered.

The door was closing. Closing very slowly, but just slightly faster than the unchanging
song of the flute, and now I realized that the music was a chain that bound a dancing
girl. Her eyes were agonized as she watched the door swing slowly shut, and two ghost
tears trickled down her cheeks like transparent pearls.

“Faster,” I prayed silently. “Beautiful girl, you must dance faster!”

But she could not. Bound to a rhythm that she could not break, she floated toward us like
a cloud, feet barely touching the ground, whirling with exquisite grace and pathetic
desire. Her arms and hands and long, flowing robe formed patterns that were as subtle as
smoke, and even the fingers that reached toward the door were positioned in the pattern of
the dance. She was too late.

The door closed tight, with a cold cruel click of a lock. Bright Star stood motionless,
and a wave of agony flowed over me like a harsh winter wind. And then she was gone, and
the music was gone, and the well was covered, and the path was overgrown by weeds, and I
was staring with wet eyes at a bricked-up patch in a wall.

“Every night she dances, and every night I pray that she will be able to get through the
door to her captain, but she cannot dance faster than the music allows,” Henpecked Ho said
quietly. “Thus Bright Star must dance until time comes to an end.”

Li Kao was softly humming the flute song as he thought, and then he slapped a knee with a
hand.

“Ho, the chain of a ghost dance is woven from the victim's own desire, but that
magnificent young woman is ruled by more than one desire,” he said. “No power in life or
in death can prevent her from honoring her art, and it is artistry that will free a
dancing girl. Your job will be to steal two swords and a couple of drums. Ox, I'd do it
myself if I could be ninety again, but it looks as though you can have the honor of
chopping off your arms and legs.”

“Of doing what?” I asked in a tiny voice.

“It is said that the challenge of the Sword Dance is stronger than death itself, and now
is the time to prove it,” said Master Li.

I quivered in my sandals, and I saw myself trundling upon a trolley with a begging bowl
clutched in my two remaining fingers. “Alms for the poor! Alms for a poor legless
cripple...”

Every year there are well-meaning officials who attempt to ban the Sword Dance on the
grounds that it kills or maims hundreds, if not thousands, and though the dance will
continue as long as the great Tang sits upon the throne (the Son of Heaven devotes an hour
a day to practice with the swords) I suppose that I should explain a “barbaric ritual”
that may someday become as obsolete as scapulimancy.

There are two contestants, two drummers, and three judges. The drums set the pace, and
once the dance begins it is forbidden to break the rhythm in any way. The contestants are
required to perform six mandatory maneuvers in sequence, each with an increasing level of
difficulty, and all maneuvers are performed while leaping - both feet must leave the
ground - and require precise slashes with two swords over, under, and around the body,
that are graded according to grace, accuracy, closeness of blades to the body, and
elevation of leap. These mandatory maneuvers are very important because the judges must
beware of mismatches, and if one of the contestants is clearly outclassed, they will
refuse to allow the dance to continue.

The contestants begin quite far apart and move closer with each maneuver, and at the
completion of the six mandatory maneuvers they are practically face to face. If the judges
are satisfied they signal for the drummers to sound the beat of the seventh level, and now
the dance becomes art, and occasionally it becomes murder.

Seventh-level maneuvers are free-form, and the only requirement is that they must be of
the highest difficulty. The dancers attempt to express their souls, and the fun lies in
the fact that once a maneuver has been completed the dancer is free to clip the hair from
his opponent's head, if he can do so before his feet touch the ground. The opponent is
free to parry and thrust, but only after his own maneuver has been completed and only
before his own feet touch the ground. A dancer who attempts a stroke while so much as a
toe is touching the earth is immediately disqualified. Masters disdain such easy targets
as the hair on the head and attempt to barber their opponent's beard or mustache, if he
wears such adornments, and the loss of noses and eyes and ears is considered to be an
occupational hazard of no great importance. Of course if a dancer panics and breaks the
rhythm he will probably be killed, because he will be leaping up when he should be coming
down and his opponent will aim for his hair and cut off his head.

During the mandatory maneuvers the drummers play together, but with the seventh level they
split, one for each dancer, and it is said that a truly great drummer is the equivalent of
a third sword. Sample gymnasium conversation:

“I hear that Fan Yun has challenged you. Who's your drummer?”

“Blind Meng.”

“
Blind Meng!
Great Buddha, I must sell my wife and wager the proceeds! Orderly, be so kind as to order
flowers for Fan Yun's widow.”

Of course that is at the master level, and the enemy of the raw amateur, such as Number
Ten Ox, is not his opponent but he himself. The swords are as sharp as razors, and
terrific force is required to whip them around the body in a seventh-level maneuver, and
the amateur is likely to beam with pride after a successful maneuver only to discover that
he has left one of his legs lying upon the ground.

It is quite impossible to describe the beauty of the Sword Dance in words. It is skill and
pride and courage and grace and beauty rolled into one, and when two consummate masters go
at it their bodies seem to float effortlessly into the air and hang suspended in space,
and their swords are flashing blinding blurs - particularly at night, in the light of
torches - and the clash of steel meeting steel is like the songs of gongs that thrill the
heart as well as the ears. Each brilliant maneuver inspires a counter maneuver even more
brilliant, and the drummers drive their rhythms into the hearts of their champions and
force them past human limitations into the realm of the supernatural. The audience screams
as a blade slips through and blood spurts, but the dancers laugh out loud, and then the
sand clock runs out and the drums fall silent, and even the judges leap to their feet and
cheer as the panting contestants drop their swords and embrace.

One might assume that this dangerous sport requires the strength of a man, but speed and
suppleness can counterbalance strength. It is said that among the six greatest dancers of
all time there was one woman, and I insist that the figure must be revised. Two of them
were women, and I am in a position to prove it.

That night Li Kao carried two sharp swords up the path toward the wall. They had to be
sharp because an expert would spot dull blades in a second. Henpecked Ho carried two
drums, and I carried two thousand pounds of sheer terror. My flesh was all goose bumps as
I stripped to my loincloth, and my fingers were like icicles as I took the swords from Li
Kao. They hid in the shrubbery, and I have never known time that passed so slowly yet
reached midnight with such appalling swiftness.

The watchman's knocker rapped three times, and I turned to see the faint outlines of a
ghost shadow upon the patch where the door had been. The shadow blanket slipped easily
over my head, and the door stood open and the well was uncovered and the path was clear of
weeds. I walked up the path to meet Bright Star.

The flute began to play its haunting melody. A light moved toward me. The exquisite girl
came dancing down the path, and again I caught my breath as I watched the agony of her
perfection as she honored her art, even while her heart was breaking. She did not see me.

Henpecked Ho began pounding his drum, and at first I couldn't imagine what he was doing.
He certainly wasn't sounding the challenge to the Sword Dance, but finally my pulse told
me the answer. The gentle scholar was playing the song that he loved most on earth and
that he had learned during the lovesick sleepless nights; the heartbeat of a dancing girl.
He leaned over his drum and put his weight into it, and the insistent heartbeat thudded
and thundered through the trees, and the first flaw in the dance of Bright Star was the
faintly puzzled expression that began to appear in her eyes.

Li Kao's drum rang out with the challenge to the Sword Dance, weaving in and out and over
and around the steady beat of a heart, and an awareness, a growing wonder, began to shine
in the eyes of the dancing girl. I stepped forward and raised my swords in the salute, and
then I knew that the legend was true, and that the challenge to the dance is stronger than
death itself, because her eyes began to sparkle, and as the challenge and the heartbeat
pounded louder and louder her hands lifted gracefully to the clasp of her throat and her
robe fell to the ground, and she danced toward me in her loincloth, with the jade pendant
that her captain had given her hanging between her small firm breasts on a golden chain,
and Henpecked Ho's silver comb in her hair.

Then she saw me. She spread her hands wide and two ghost swords suddenly sparkled in the
moonlight. The heartbeat thudded even louder, and Li Kao began to pound the command for
the mandatory maneuvers.

A master would never consent to dance with an amateur. It would be murder. I plastered a
silly smile on my face and pretended that I was making a joke of boring classroom
exercises, and then I launched into the air with the Tiger, the Kingfisher, Dragon's
Breath, the Swan, the Serpent, and Night Rain. Bright Star didn't suspect that I was doing
the very best that I could. She laughed and promptly imitated me, even to the slight
stumble that I made after Dragon's Breath. We were moving closer and closer together, and
Henpecked Ho's drum joined Li Kao's as they thundered the command for seventh-level
maneuvers.

I sent a fervent prayer to the August Personage of Jade, and then I leaped off the ground
with Eighth Drake Under the River Bridge. The August Personage of Jade must have heard me,
because I managed to complete the eight savage slashes around my body and between my legs
without castrating myself, but when I saw Bright Star's response I nearly fainted. She
lifted effortlessly into the air and floated like a leaf as she slashed her swords around
her body in Ice Falling From a Mountaintop - which is very nearly impossible - and still
had time before her toes touched the ground to take a couple of playful swipes that would
have neatly trimmed my eyebrows if her ghost swords had been real. I managed to complete
Stallion Racing in the Meadow, and Bright Star tripled the level of difficulty with Storm
Clouds, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously when she saw that I had left myself wide open.

It was now or never. I leaped into the air with Widow's Tears, and Bright Star turned pale
with shock and horror. I was dancing
backward,
out of reach of her swords. The drums continued, and she almost lost her balance. My
cowardice was plain to see, but the judges had not stopped the contest, and there could be
only one explanation. They had been bribed, and the Sword Dance had been defiled, and her
whole world was crashing down around her ears.

“What? You break the rhythm of the dance?” I sneered. “Are you afraid of me, base-born
dancing girl?”

That did it. The beautiful ghost uttered a piercing scream of rage, and her lithe body
shot up into the air, and her swords began to flicker around her body like tongues of
flame as she pursued me down that path, performing seventh-level maneuvers that I could
not possibly believe, even though the blades were flashing right in front of my face. I
puffed and panted and danced backward as fast as I could, but nothing on earth could
persuade a dancer to continue if the opponent failed to complete a maneuver, and now I was
slicing myself to ribbons.

Henpecked Ho began to pound Bright Star's heartbeat so powerfully that blood was spurting
from the palms of his hands, and Li Kao's drum was drowning out the ghost flute as it
commanded:
Faster! Faster! Faster!
I glanced behind me. The door was already half-closed, and I danced faster, but my lungs
were filled with hot coals and there were black spots before my eyes. Somehow I managed to
complete Eagle Screams without leaving my severed feet upon the ground. Bright Star
contemptuously countered with Eagle Screams Above the Lamb - which has been successfully
performed no more than five times in the two thousand years of the Sword Dance - and had
time for two swipes that would have removed my ears and a third that was intended to
emasculate me. Her eyes were on fire and her hair was standing up like the fur of a big
beautiful cat. The ghost swords were whipping around her leaping body with unbelievable
force, and they slashed out to remove my eyes and my nose, and her toes barely touched the
ground before she was airborne again.

Now and then she comes to dance for me in my dreams. I do not believe that many men are so
honored.

Faster!
the drums thundered.
Faster! Faster!
I danced faster, and then my swords got all tangled up as I attempted Tenth Dive of the
Blue Heron, and I backed into a log upon the path and tripped and fell. The beautiful
ghost leaped over me and her swords flashed out to remove my hide from my nose to my toes,
and she landed on the other side. The drums stopped instantly. Bright Star shook her head
dazedly, and then her eyes widened with wonder and hope as she realized that the log that
had tripped me had been placed directly in front of the door, and it was still partly
open, and she had leaped right through the gap.