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The Sword Dancer
Jeannie Lin
THE THIEF WHO STOLE HIS HEART Sword dancer Li Feng is used to living life on the edge of the law – a woman alone in the dangerous world of the Tang Dynasty has only her whirlwind reflexes to trust. She will discover the truth about her past, even if that means outwitting the most feared thief-catcher of them all…Relentless, handsome and determined, Han sees life – and love – as black and white. Until he finally captures the spirited, courageous Li Feng, who makes him question everything he thought he knew about right and wrong. Soon he’s faced with an impossible choice: betray the elusive sword dancer he is learning to love, or trust his long-disregarded heart and follow her to dangerous, tempting rebellion…‘Beautifully written, deliciously sensual… Exceptional.’ Library Journal on The Dragon and the Pearl
Han grabbed hold of an ankle and she fell back onto the bed in a tangle of blue silk and gauze.
Li Feng blinked up at him, dark eyes glittering. ‘Always you!’
She was dressed like a courtesan, in one of those robes that appeared to be made out of paper-thin cloth and air. The silk had fallen from her shoulders, revealing smooth bare skin from her throat to the topmost swell of her breasts. Han prepared to defend himself as she reached for him.
Instead of gouging his eyes out, her hands slipped past his to bury themselves into his hair. Li Feng dragged his head down, her gaze on him the entire time. Before he knew what was happening his mouth was pressed against soft, inviting lips.
She tasted of cinnamon and the faint tang of cloves. Though he was positioned over her, his weight pinning her legs, he was the one who felt trapped. This was a ploy, he told himself, while his body greedily strained against her.
Han lifted his head forcibly. ‘At any moment you’re going to slit my throat.’
There was a glint in her eyes that was both predatory and playful. ‘Perhaps.’
AUTHOR NOTE
I’ve always found it sexy when a hero and heroine cannot only match wits, but also match swords.
A common theme in Chinese adventure stories is the idea of the vigilante hero—a hero guided by honour and chivalry. But how much fun would it be to have the heroine in that role? And the hero, of course, would be the thief-catcher intent on capturing her.
Often people ask me where I get my ideas. For this book the origin was a famous poem by the poet Du Fu of the Tang Dynasty, titled Observing the Sword Dance Performed by a Disciple of Madam Gongsun. The poem starts with a description of a mesmerising sword dance, then moves into a nostalgic look at how much has changed in fifty years like ‘the turn of a page’. The sword dance ultimately becomes a symbol of the end of a golden age.
A final historical note: Wudang Mountain, which is mentioned in the book, is an actual location. In the Tang Dynasty the mountain was already established as a centre of Taoism. A Taoist master, Lu Dong Bin, known as the Sword Immortal, was also a famous figure of the Tang Dynasty. With these elements in mind, I took the liberty of associating my heroine’s sword-training as well as her Taoist upbringing with Wudang.
I hope you enjoy the adventures of my sword dancer and thief-catcher as they chase their way across the cities and rivers of Tang Dynasty China. There’s no better place to fight and fall in love, in my humble opinion.
For more information about the stories, or to contact me, visit me online at: www.jeannielin.com. I love receiving mail from readers!
About the Author
JEANNIE LIN grew up fascinated with stories of Western epic fantasy and Eastern martial arts adventures. When her best friend introduced her to romance novels in middle school the stage was set. Jeannie started writing her first romance while working as a high school science teacher in South Central Los Angeles. After four years of trying to break into publishing with an Asian-set historical, her 2009 Golden Heart
–winning manuscript, BUTTERFLY SWORDS, was sold to Harlequin Mills & Boon.
As a technical consultant, backpacker and vacation junkie, she’s travelled all over the United States as well as Europe, South Korea, Japan, China and Vietnam. She’s now happily settled in St Louis, with her wonderfully supportive husband, and continues to journey to exotic locations in her stories.
You can visit Jeannie Lin online at: www.jeannielin.com
Previous novels from this author:
BUTTERFLY SWORDS
THE DRAGON AND THE PEARL
MY FAIR CONCUBINE
Available in Mills & Boon
HistoricalUndone!eBooks:
THE TAMING OF MEI LIN
THE LADY’S SCANDALOUS NIGHT
CAPTURING THE SILKEN THIEF
AN ILLICIT TEMPTATION
Did you know that these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
The Sword Dancer
Jeannie Lin
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
First of all, to my husband, Fritz.
Though a dedication is a small prize after
being dubbed ‘The Greatest Dad in the World’ (with the shirt
to prove it), this book would not have been possible
without your love, support and laughter.
I must thank my editor Anna Boatman
for her patience and guidance in helping me turn
scattered ideas into a coherent story. Also a thank-you
to Gail Fortune, my agent and avid cheerleader.
THE SWORD DANCER wouldn’t have been possible
without the tough love and critical eye of authors
Bria Quinlan and Inez Kelley, as well as the
continued support of my local critique group:
Shawntelle Madison, Amanda Freeman,
Kristi Lea and Dawn Blankenship.
Thank you to Giovani Dambros and Phillip Puzzo
from Team TRICKset for the information and demos
on freerunning. For assistance in providing historical
insight and extensive research materials I must credit
wuxia author John Dishon.
Though this story has many influences,
I must give a nod to Jennifer Roberson’s fantasy novel
Sword Dancer—the book that convinced me that there’s nothing sexier than a hero and heroine who can cross swords. And finally to Jackie Chan. Enough said.
Chapter One
Heaven and earth moved in tune with her rhythm.
The sword flashed like Yi’s arrows that shot down the nine suns.
She moved quickly and spiritedly like the dragon ridden by gods.
Du Fu from ‘Observing the Sword Dance
Performed by a Disciple of Madam Gongsun’
Tang Dynasty China—AD 848
Alone reed flute sang the opening melody. It was enough to hush the gathered crowd into silence. A dancer stood, still and patient, at the centre of the circle. The long sword poised in her hand captured the sunlight as an intermittent breeze fluttered through the peach-blossom silk of her tunic. It was as if nature had aligned itself with her for this performance.
There was stillness again before the melody swelled. The musicians were situated at the edge of the clearing, blending into the crowd. All focus was on the dancer.
The young woman gradually lifted one foot; knee curved outward, toes exquisitely pointed. Her free hand took on a classic lotus shape. Her expression remained tranquil. She held the position effortlessly, the graceful lines of her body belying the strength and discipline in the pose.
Zheng Hao Han eyed the sword in her grasp. Its presence added a hint of tension and drama, and the crowd waited eagerly for the dancer to fulfil the promise. Performance troupes such as this one travelled from city to city and always drew a crowd.
‘An unworthy task for the illustrious Thief-catcher Han, eh?’ Longxu remarked beside him. ‘This should be easy work after Two Dragon Lo.’
Han scowled at the snide remark. His newfound fame was an ill-fitted garment he was forced to wear.
Longxu earned his nickname from the dragon-beard hook that he roped around his quarry with stunning accuracy. They had worked together in the past, splitting the reward for apprehending dangerous criminals whom the local magistrates and constables were ill-equipped to handle. Han wouldn’t say that they were partners in this venture. Longxu had the nose of a scavenger, eager to feed off someone else’s catch. He had encountered Han on the road and immediately chained himself to his side.
They weren’t the only thief-catchers in the crowd. The amount of money offered for this case had lured many fortune-seeking mercenaries. All of them had followed the same lead to this remote village within the rugged hills of Fujian province.
A shipment of jade and gold had been stolen from a security warehouse a few counties over. The magistrate had issued an arrest warrant that singled out a band of travelling performers as the culprits, unlikely as that seemed. Han scanned the musicians and dancers at the centre of the market square. Longxu was right about one thing. These weren’t the sort of bandits he usually dealt with.
An explosion of drums shook the street and the audience leaned in close, clamouring for a better view, as the dancer leapt into motion. This was no soft seduction of willowy arms and flowing silk. Her technique was sharp, precise and powerful as she executed sword forms one might see in a fighting drill. She extended her limbs through each movement, exaggerating and accentuating the beauty of the underlying structure.
‘She’s good,’ Han remarked.
‘It’s all show,’ Longxu said dismissively. ‘I’ve yet to meet a woman with any true sword skill.’
Han chose not to answer. He would rather concentrate on the sword dancer than bicker with small-minded vagabonds. There was no doubt that what they were seeing was a performance, yet there was something in the dancer’s stance and her grip on the sword that triggered some instinct within him.
With each thrust of the sword, his pulse rose. With each lunge and leap, his heart beat faster. It was the essence of the sword dance, the balance of contrasting elements. The hardness of the warrior techniques served to highlight the sensuality of the dance. He was enchanted by the suppleness of an exposed wrist. Enthralled by the hint of rounded calves and gently curved thighs beneath the flowing costume.
The dancer’s eyes met his at the end of a turn and his heart forgot to beat. Han kept his expression blank as he returned her gaze. Her skin was glistening, her cheeks flushed. After the brief pause, she moved on and Han swallowed past a sudden dryness in his throat.
The rival thief-catcher had also stopped talking to stare, the same as every other man in the audience. Han needed to focus, maintain a critical eye. He was here to complete a job, not to be charmed by a dancing girl.
The drummers transitioned to a quicker tempo, beating out a driving rhythm as the dancer took to the air. The sword flowed with her, the flash of the blade highlighting each turn while the audience murmured with excitement.
To everyone else, the sword dancer’s movements were nothing more than a performance, but the underlying technique caught Han’s attention. There was training there. Years and years of training. Not something one usually found at a dusty street fair in some back-road town.
At last the penetrating rhythm fell away to the soft refrain of the flute. The melody floated through like clouds parting to calm the storm. The sword dance took on a peaceful, almost languid quality before dropping back into stillness.
The crowd erupted into applause and the dancer took a graceful bow, sword tucked carefully along one arm, as the troupe sent their minions through the crowd to collect coins. A commotion erupted among the musicians. A few of the thief-catchers had become over-eager and were moving in, shouting and attempting to make arrests.
‘Novices,’ Longxu snorted.
Han shook his head in exasperation. A few of the entertainers started shoving through the crowd in an attempt to break free. A sword was drawn from somewhere within the chaos and suddenly everyone was in full motion like ants on a hill.
His first inclination was to back away. There was too much confusion and he wasn’t even clear who the suspects were, but a flutter of rose streaked with gold and green caught his eye. The sword dancer.
Her, his thief-catching instinct shouted.
Instinct was all it took to set him into motion.
She wove through the crowd and ducked into the tavern across the street, slicing through the beaded curtain. Han followed, but the strings of beads swung and tangled around him. By the time he shoved through, the dancer was flying up the stairs. He pushed past startled customers to bound up the steps after her.
He crashed into a server at the top, sending a tea tray and a stack of cups flying. Before he could recover, a sword came at him. Han side-stepped and tried to lock on to her wrist as the blade slid by, but the sword dancer evaded his grasp, her movements as fluid now as they were during the performance.
A cry came from the customers as they stood and skirted to the edges of the room. The sword was aimed at him again. The dancer wielded a jian, its long, thin blade suited for the precision cuts and jabs of the more artful duellists. The weapon itself was fake, the edges dulled, but the skill behind it was very real. Han unsheathed his dao and blocked in a single motion. His blade was heavier by comparison, suited for the swift, decisive attack of a battlefield.
The sword dancer avoided the swing of his blade, attacking into the opening it created. Strategy, controlled breathing, eyes sharply focused without a hint of fear. Han struck at the sword rather than the fighter, using force and momentum to twist the blade out of her hands. There was no time to celebrate as the dancer grabbed a plate and flung it at his head. Followed by a wine jug which shattered overhead as he ducked. Followed by a wooden bench.
Heaven and Earth, she fought like a demon.
The dancer ran over the tables rather than weaving around them. By the time he shoved the bench away, she had dived out the window. Han raced out on to the exterior balcony to find it empty. He peered down below into a similarly deserted street. She’d somehow landed and disappeared into an alleyway.
A furtive shuffle overhead told him differently. He stilled, head tilted to listen. There it was, the faint pad of footsteps. She’d gone up, not down.
Han shoved the dao back into its scabbard and climbed on top of the rail. From there, he grabbed on to the looped carvings that ran along the eaves and used them to hoist himself up on to the roof. The dancer was already at the far end of the rooftop. With a running leap, she sailed across the alley on to the adjacent rooftop, the ribbons of her costume floating behind her like the long feathers of an exotic bird.
The heat of the chase was upon him. He followed her trail, running hard and jumping just before the edge. Grey tile cracked beneath his feet as he landed. He had some experience chasing criminals through winding streets, but this was entirely different. The city below disappeared and the rooftops became a new, uncharted landscape.
The dancer leapt again and again he followed. The rooftop sloped upwards and she disappeared over the rise. The sun was high overhead and as Han began the upward climb, he was momentarily blinded by the glare of it. Suddenly a pink blur whirled towards him, followed by the snap of a well-placed kick at his mid-section. The impact knocked him back. He landed with a thud and started to slide. His hands clawed futilely over the slate tiles.
