The high staccato notes of the flutes pierced the air as
Goldmoon took her place a few paces behind Riverwind.
Riverwind stamped his foot and tossed one end of the sash
behind him. Goldmoon echoed the stamp with a lighter
patting of her foot, just short of the sash’s end. Riverwind
walked a few steps forward, pulling the sash in a teasing
manner, a hunter baiting a tigress.
Goldmoon pounced forward and scooped up the end of
the sash in one graceful motion. She gave it a tug and
Riverwind spun on his heel to face her. The hunter’s look
was in his eyes again, and the torchlight glittering in his
blue irises made them appear red. Holding the sash between
them, the shepherd and the princess circled one another,
Goldmoon entranced by those eyes.
She had always found this dance a little silly, and never
understood its popularity. It seemed better suited to
children’s play. Yet, as Riverwind fell to one knee and she
spun about him at the end of the sash, she suddenly
understood the dance’s true meaning.
Riverwind gave a tug, and Goldmoon began spinning
toward him, winding herself into the sash. As soon as she
was within his reach, Riverwind caught hold of her and
pulled her self-tied form down to his knee. With his arm
wrapped about her, it seemed to Goldmoon that Riverwind
was not as large as her father, but there was no doubt he
was powerful, at the height of his manhood.
There was a pause in the music, and Goldmoon became
aware that all about them young men were taking the
opportunity to snatch kisses from their “helpless” partners.
Her heart beat with anticipation. With a flick of her tongue,
Goldmoon moistened her lips, but Riverwind held her
stiffly, his eyes averted from her face, staring out into the
starlit night.
Though his face was stem, Goldmoon could tell that he
was breathing more heavily than the dancing’s pace
warranted, and with her arm pressed against his naked
chest, she could feel his heart pounding.
Goldmoon leaned closer. Riverwind’s breathing
quickened. He started to turn his face directly to hers when
the flute trilled without warning and the dance resumed.
Riverwind and all the other “hunters” gave a tug on
their sashes, sending the “tigresses” spinning outward like
tops. In a flurry of laughter and bright-colored clothes, each
woman shifted around the next man.
“I’ll have that flute player flogged!” Goldmoon
muttered to herself as she smiled politely at her new partner,
Hartbow, Watcher’s son. They repeated the same silly
pantomime with his blue sash. Hartbow’s eyes were blue,
too, but the light did not catch them the way it had
Riverwind’s, and Hartbow’s look was not very predatory.
He, too, took no liberty with her as she sat, bound up, on his
knee, but smiled shyly at her.
It was the same with all the rest of her partners. Some,
she sensed, would have kissed her if they’d had more nerve.
Hollow-sky would certainly not have hesitated, but he had
not stayed for the dance. Still, she found herself irritated
that no other Que-shu warrior had the courage to touch his
lips to her own. No one had even held her as closely as
Riverwind had.
“Is Riverwind kissing his other partners?” she wondered
curiously. “Does he watch them with the same hunter’s
look?” It was impossible to sneak a peek at him, though,
and still pay attention to what she was doing. The pauses in
the music and the uneasiness of her partners became more
unbearable. Embarrassed and frustrated, she vowed silently
not to wait until her wedding night for a kiss. . . .
Then Goldmoon was once again only one partner away
from Riverwind. He danced with Ravenhair. They held each
other as aloofly as possible. Goldmoon understood that
Ravenhair resented Riverwind’s defeat of her brother,
Hawker. But whether her escort had been so distant with all
his other partners, the princess could not know.
The last repeat to the dance came with all the original
couples together. Goldmoon studied the lines of
Riverwind’s back and legs, not truly paying much attention
to the sash he snaked in front of her, so she was a little late