Dragon's Honor - Kij Johnson [46]
“That’s not at all necessary, sir,” Riker said. He carefully stood up, feeling a short stab of pain in his lower back as he straightened himself out.
“But I insist,” Kan-hi said. He laughed loudly. “With the money you just won for me, I will be able to afford a whole new wardrobe. Isn’t that so, brother.”
Standing not far away, his hands folded primly over his chest, Chuan-chi frowned at his younger sibling. “Have no fear. Unlike some others I might mention, I always repay my debts. All my debts,” he emphasized with an openly venomous look at Riker. I may have just saved your life, you stuck-up ass, Riker thought angrily about the Dragon-Heir. The more he contemplated the matter, the more he became convinced that his scuffle with Tu Fu was not just a random act of unpremeditated violence. Someone wanted him or Chuan-chi taken out of the picture. Perhaps they had both been targets. He made a mental note to discuss the incident with Captain Picard at the first opportunity that presented itself. He wondered how Deanna and the others were faring and if they were safe.
At the moment, though, he simply accepted the yellow robe from Kan-hi. One of the ever-present serving maids lightly wiped the blood from his face and shoulders before helping him don the expensive silk robe. “Well, if you insist,” he said amiably. “I guess my uniform has seen better days.” He took a gander at the Dragon-Heir’s lengthy fingernails and remembered the way Tu Fu’s nails had sliced through his flesh. “Are everybody’s nails that sharp?” he asked.
“Oh no,” Kan-hi told him. “Tu Fu belongs to the Sacred Order of the Extended Digits. Their nails are dipped daily from birth in a special solution that hardens the nails and increases their tensile strength.”
“Good Lord,” Riker said, both impressed and appalled. “Is this, er, a large order?” He certainly hoped not.
Kan-hi shook his head. Riker noted that the Second Son swayed slightly as he spoke, but seemed to have sobered up enough to stand without assistance. Perhaps he was not really as drunk as he’d appeared before. “Many are chosen, but few survive to adulthood. Most cannot resist the temptation to scratch an itch.”
Riker found himself rendered speechless for a moment. Probably best not to think about it too much, he decided. Instead he chose to conduct a quick survey of the party. His eyes scanned the chamber. Quickly and efficiently the remaining female servants were tidying up and restoring order to the outer harem. The perforated paper screen had already been dragged away and replaced with a new screen that served to hide the unconscious warrior from sight. A harp string was plucked somewhere in an adjoining compartment and the plaintive strains of soft music attempted to soothe the savage breasts of the hot-blooded young men. Fresh fruit and wine materialized in bountiful quantities, carried in on the slender arms of still more alluring young women.
Unfortunately, Riker observed, most of the men were paying little attention to the music, the refreshments, or the beautiful women. The bachelors milled about restlessly, some of them grouping around Kan-hi while the rest lingered in the vicinity of the Heir. There was an air of expectancy in the chamber. Everyone seemed to be watching Riker and the two princes, and waiting for something to happen. Even the serving maids seemed on edge, despite their persistent smiles and demure behavior. Riker sensed that the potential for violence had not ended with his defeat of Tu Fu. If anything, his brief tussle with the Pai warrior might have actually whetted the party-goers’ appetite for a real, knock-down-drag-them-out brawl, which was the last thing Riker wanted to get going, especially with an assassin or two lurking