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They didn't seem to have such things here. Instead, a Dance meant that most of the courtiers would be watching the trained dancers go through a long set-piece. All of the Royal Dancers and some of the courtiers would be participating, the courtiers as a kind of untrained, minimally-moving background to the Dancers, all two hundred of them, who were schooled from the time they were five and performed until they were deemed too old to be decorative.
That was interesting; there were a few people Skan had known—most of them kestra'chern or the odd perchi—who had gotten formal dance training. Virtually everyone else was self-taught.
But Drake said that before the wars there were dance troupes, so there must have been performances and people gathering to watch rather than participate.
These Dancers were different from that, though. They "belonged," in a sense, to the King—as the mages belonged to the Priests. They performed only for the King and his court. When they were too old to dance, they were turned into teachers for the next generation, if they had not already married. It was considered a great honor to be permitted to wed a Royal Dancer, and the marriage could not be consummated until the Dancer had a replacement.
The four envoys would be sitting on top of a little pyramid-shaped affair in the center of the performance area, a wooden structure erected for this purpose, surrounded by the dancers and the pivot point of the dance. Skan was rather disappointed that he wouldn't be able to perform this time; he had a notion that he could give these folk an eyeful!
Next time,he consoled himself. Next time. The Dancemaster has promised I may participate, and is pla
In fact, the Dancemaster already had a title for the next performance; Phoenix Dancing with Dragon,an old legend among these people. Skandranon would be the Phoenix, Air-Spirit and Fire-Spirit in one; the dancers would join together to form the earthbound serpentine Dragon, who embodied Water and Earth together.
The very notion had him chuckling with glee. He could hardly wait!
This performance would give him a good notion of how these people danced, and how to adapt his own skydancing techniques to their style.
Without that, I would look more alien to them than I really want to. Perhaps it's just as well that I'm not dancing tonight.
The others, including Zhaneel, had already preceded him, according to some sort of strict protocol that mandated that he, supposedly the highest in rank, be the last one seated. Now four of the Royal Dancers paced gravely up to him in their flowing robes of blue and green with short, cylindrical hats strapped to their heads; four young girls who could not be older than eleven, who looked up at him with solemn eyes and bowed to him until their foreheads touched the grass.
He bowed in return, just as low, and just as gracefully, bending over one extended foreleg until every muscle complained.
They took their places around him, forming a square with himself in the middle, and they all marched out into the garden together.
Murmurs of conversation rose on all sides, and he sensed the curious eyes of those ranked on the benches above him. What did he look like, the white gryphon parading on the green grass? Dangerous—or handsome?
Both? Oh, I hope so. I know I'm handsome, but I haven't felt dangerous all day.
The four girls split off as they all reached the pyramid, a smallish construction with a flat platform on top. He went on alone, climbing the wooden steps with ease, and discovered as he took his place beside Zhaneel why this was such a place of honor. From here, elevated above the dancers, you saw not only the dancers themselves, but the patterns they formed, abstract constructions created by the special colors of the costumes they wore.
Well, this should be fascinating. I can study their dance steps very well from here; the patterns ought to be incorporated into what I will do as well.As he settled in, a touch of a color he hadn't expected caught the corner of his eye—Zhaneel was buff and gray, Winterhart had worn green and white, and Amberdrake was all in green. So why the vivid, warm golden-yellow? He turned out of curiosity, and saw that Winterhart was cradling a bouquet of three large, tawny-gold lilies in her arms.
That's interesting. She didn't have those when we came down to Court, so she must have gotten them at Court itself. I wish I hadn't been so busy talking to Leyuet; I must have missed something. Wonder who gave them to her?
Chances were it was Amberdrake, that incurable romantic. But where had he found them? Skan had never seen anything like them before, and he knewthere wasn't anything like them growing in the gardens. Gesten would have noticed; Gesten was always on the lookout for plants to take home to White Gryphon, and he would love these.
But before he could say anything to Winterhart, the musicians struck up; Haighlei music wasn't anything like the Kaled'a'in stuff Skan remembered, nor like the music of the minstrels and Bards of the old northern courts. Like the Royal Dancers, these Royal Musicians were all trained to play together as a group, and their music lessons began in earliest childhood. They even wore a uniform that was unique among the Haighlei garments, in that there were no trailing sleeves or other encumbrances to interfere with the playing of instruments.
There were at least a dozen different kinds of drums alone in that group, plus gongs, bells, cymbals, zills—at least half of the musicians played percussion of one sort or another. The rest were equally divided between instruments with plucked or bowed strings, and various flutes.
As might be expected with that kind of balance, the music was heavily percussive in nature, and Skan was glad he wasn't sitting too near the ensemble.
You could go deaf quickly with that much pounding in your ears— and I pity the poor creature with a headache! But when it all blends together, it is deep and driving. I like this a lot. It reminds me of—
Skandranon realized what it reminded him of. It was visceral. It reached deep into him; the vibrations carried through his chest, through his wings, through his bones.
It felt like sex; it felt like skydancing and mating, when the blood thrummed in his ears and all the world shook.
Oh, I remember those times, when I weighed less. I was strong and virile. Andfast ! And sleek and glossy black.
Skandranon suppressed a delighted laugh. Those were the days!
Then the dancers struck their initial poses, right arms with their trailing sleeves raised high, left arm bent toward the earth, and bodies curved backward until it made hisback ache to look at them. He forgot everything else from that moment on in his absorption in the dance, studying the details.
"Enjoy yourself?" Zhaneel asked with a saucy gape-grin on her delicate gryfalcon face, as they looked in on the twins before taking to their own bed. Skan was yawning; the performance had gone on for a very long time, and it was well after midnight when all the congratulations had been made to the Dancers, the Musicians, and the Dancemaster, and they could return to their rooms again.
Not that he hadn't savored every minutes of it!
The little ones were curled up in their nests of cushions, making a ball with two heads, four wings, and an indeterminate number of limbs—in other words, the usual nighttime position. In the heat of the day, they sprawled, belly-down on cool stone, looking rather squashed. But for now, they were puffballs.
"I liked it a great deal," he told her, as they left the twins to their dreams of mischief among the fishponds, and walked into their own room. The servants had already been and gone, leaving the suite prepared. The door to the balcony was wide open, the curtains pulled aside to allow entry to the cool breeze that always came up around midnight. The air that drifted in was scented with the heavy perfume of a flower that bloomed only at night, a tiny white blossom like a trumpet.