Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [43]
If Riker’s blow hurt Tu Fu, he didn’t show it. He slammed into Riker with all his weight, carrying Riker backward with the force of a stampede. The crowd of onlookers must have parted to make way for them, for the next thing Riker knew he and his enemy had smashed through one of the vertical paper screens dividing the outer harem into various compartments. Paper shredded and wooden supports snapped beneath an avalanche of thrashing, battling human bodies. Riker heard women screaming and a male voice cursing. He saw five or six young ladies, mostly nude, running away in panic. A Pai nobleman, similarly unclad, was rolling frantically out of the way, grabbing up his discarded garments as he scrambled to his feet only a few meters distant. I guess someone isn’t a fight fan, Riker thought wryly—right before the back of his head came to rest against the floor of the harem. A surplus of overstuffed pillows cushioned his crash landing but failed to prevent the entire weight of the sumo-sized warrior from pounding him into the pillows. His battered rib cage shrieked in protest; he’d been on heavy-gravity worlds that hadn’t crushed him this much. He could barely breathe.
Even Tu Fu seemed momentarily stunned by the impact of their fall, or perhaps he was merely disoriented by the torn remnants of a colorful silk hanging currently wrapped around his head. His silk-shrouded face was only centimeters away from Riker’s. He sprawled on top of the Starfleet officer like a misplaced mountain. Riker briefly considered kneeing Tu Fu where it would hurt most, but figured that the Pai would probably judge that tactic dishonorable in the extreme. Instead he took a deep breath, straining to expand his lungs against the tremendous mass pressing down on him, then pried his arms out from beneath Tu Fu. Clasping both hands together, he drove his locked fists into the underside of the warrior’s chin. Tu Fu’s head snapped back, exposing his naked throat. Riker chopped him in the neck with the edge of his right hand. Tu Fu grunted in pain and tried to pull himself off Riker, who rocked back and forth on his spine until he had enough momentum to roll both himself and Tu Fu all the way over. Now Riker was on top, with Tu Fu’s unwieldy bulk spread out beneath him. He jabbed his knee into Tu Fu’s stomach, and heard shouts and laughter all around him. The circle of spectators had re-formed around the fighters, Kan-hi and the other bachelors whooping and hollering as Riker raised both fists high above his head, ready to bring them crashing down on Tu Fu and ending the show here and now. He wondered what Kan-hi would do with all the money and concubines he was about to win.
A splash of wine struck Riker in the face …
“Father, wait!” the Pearl objected as Lord Lu Tung prepared to depart. “You can’t leave her here.” Green eyes found Beverly’s. “I mean no disrespect, Doctor, but, as I said, I truly have no need of a nurse or chaperone. Your kindness does me great honor, but you must not inconvenience yourself for this one’s sake.”
“It’s no inconvenience,” Beverly insisted. As long as Yao Hu remained a potential target for an assassin’s deadly efforts, she could not afford to leave the young bride alone. Well, alone with Hsiao Har anyway. Not that she suspected the Heir’s tomboy daughter of any evil designs, but she didn’t think relying on one teenage girl to protect another was exactly what Jean-Luc had in mind.
“Indeed,” Lu Tung said sternly. “It is not right that a bride go to her wedding without the comfort and guidance of an older, wiser woman. You should be grateful Dr. Crusher has agreed to accompany