Tora almost burst into laughter. “Well, as I said, I was just chatting with Bull and happened to mention how rusty I was getting”—Tora glanced about the room for inspiration and saw the bamboo fighting sticks in their racks—”at stick fighting. That’s when he mentioned you. I was a bit surprised that a lady should be in this sort of business, but he said yours is one of the best training halls in the city. I had to come see for myself. One rarely encounters both business sense and talent in a beautiful woman, madam.” Tora made her another bow.

“You may address me as ‘miss,’ “ remarked Miss Plumblossom, patting the coils of her hair. “I’m a single girl.” She shot him a glance to see his reaction.

He grinned. “Really? What blind fools some men are! Or maybe your superior talent frightened them away?”

She giggled. “Flatterer! Though you’re not wrong. When I was still a working girl, my career took up all my time. Love interferes with training. Acrobats need the self-control of champion wrestlers or archers. So I abstained. It was hard. Very hard, in fact, because mine is a hot-blooded nature.” She sighed. “In the end it ruined my career. One day, when I performed at court, there was this particular gentleman, a gentleman of such august station and such romantic looks… No, I won’t say more, except he was most persistent!” She smiled and raised her fan to hide her blushes.

“Ah.” Tora nodded. “A humble person like myself may only admire from a distance what the august personage desired.” And that would be easy, thought Tora, casting appraising glances at the young women cavorting about the room. There was hardly a plain one in sight.

“Naturally,” said Miss Plumblossom, lowering her fan, “I am a woman of high principles, and this is a respectable business. I have to set a good example for the profession.” She waved a pudgy hand in the direction of the lithe acrobats and dancers. “If you’d like to come for a workout, you’re welcome, but I won’t have anything improper going on. Understood?”

Tora humbly promised to behave himself. Her face softened. She smiled, patted her coils some more, and added, “Trouble is, none of the yokels I employ is much good at stick fighting. I suppose I’ll have to do it myself. I don’t suppose you’re an actor?”

Tora had been listening with only half an ear, wondering how to introduce the subject of the actors. “Oh, no,” he said quickly. “Ex-military man. At the moment I hire myself out to gentlemen who want protection, so I have to stay in shape.”

Miss Plumblossom nodded and pursed her lips. “A good business, that,” she said. “The streets are not safe anymore for men or women. It’s scandalous that the authorities allow depraved creatures to roam about freely. Well, Tora, I’ll try to accommodate you, though stick fighting is not my specialty. Say, once a week, an hour each time, for a hundred coppers each?”

Tora was momentarily speechless. Had this obese lump of female flesh offered to instruct him in the art of stick fighting? And at such a price? The idea that he might have to face this huge woman in front of people appalled him. He would be laughed out of town.

She misunderstood his dismay. “Oh, very well,” she said. “I suppose you’re broke like all the rest. Pay me fifty coppers whenever you have some money.” She stood up. “How about a small sample right now?”

Tora backed away. “No, no,” he said desperately. “You are too kind, but I couldn’t possibly impose on you tonight. You’re all dressed up in that pretty robe and ribbons. Some other time I’d be deeply honored.”

“Nonsense,” she snapped, and untied the sash about her wide middle, dropping it on the floor. A quick shrug disposed of the black silk robe, which puddled about her ankles. Like the girl acrobats, she wore only a loincloth underneath. Tora looked away quickly and saw a young woman in a blue cotton robe with a white fan pattern bending to gather up the clothes, fold them, and place them on the chair. Her face was averted, but Tora noted that she had a supple narrow waist and rounded hips under the simple cotton robe, and her hair, tied with a white bow, was long and glossy as silk. The maid was a great deal more promising than the mistress, he thought, and turned his startled eyes back to Miss Plumblossom.

The loincloth was covered with a little red tasseled silk apron in front. It did nothing to hide the large breasts and a belly of magnificent proportions. As he stared, she raised her arms to her hair and, lifting the beribboned coils from a shaven head, handed the stiffly lacquered wig to the maid. Then she stepped off the dais, and walked past him with all the nonchalance of a male wrestler. Her legs were short, but the thighs rose massively to huge, dimpled buttocks, which in turn joined a broad back and thick arms. In spite of her gender, she was built like a male wrestler. Tora glanced at Genba, hoping that the sight had cured him of his infatuation, but found instead that his friend was watching her with a besotted expression.

Miss Plumblossom paid no attention to either of them, but selected two bamboo poles from a rack. The lighter one she tossed to Tora before taking her position across from him. “Your move!” she ordered.

“Madam—”

“Miss! What are you waiting for?” she snapped. “In a real confrontation, you’d be dead already.” Before she had quite finished her words, she let her pole flash out and around while turning on the ball of one foot as the weapon transcribed a hissing circle aimed at Tora’s head.

His eyes incredulously fixed on massive mounds of flesh bobbing and heaving before him, Tora parried belatedly and awkwardly.

“Slow,” she commented, and aimed a stab between his legs.

Tora jumped and this time managed to flip up her pole. He followed through with a lightning-swift attack to her feet, intending to make her lose her stance. To his surprise, she dropped her pole, became airborne, flipping away, heels over head in a smooth backward somersault, and landed with a thud which made the heavy boards under his feet reverberate. Little clouds of dust rose from the cracks.

He still stood, his mouth open in shock, when she swept up her pole, whirled toward him, and, this time, succeeded in tripping him up. He landed painfully on his backside. All around him applause broke out. Genba shouted, “Well done! A beautiful move!” and Miss Plumblossom bowed all around.

Tora was still struggling to his feet when she charged again. Cursing inwardly, he put his mind on business and parried smoothly. What followed was several minutes of challenge because Tora could hardly attack a half-naked woman and had to confine himself to adroit defensive moves and an occasional attempt to disarm her. Finally, she came at him so abruptly and quickly that he was faced with either meeting the charge and allowing her to impale herself on his bamboo pole, or throwing up the contest.

He did the latter.

She stopped neatly in front of him, puffing a little, red face breaking into a wide grin. “Hah! Had enough, I see.”

“Er, yes,” said Tora. “I didn’t expect… that is, that backward somersault was an interesting move, but I’ve never really seen that used before in stick fighting.”

She took the bamboo staff from his hand and replaced it, along with her own, in the rack. “That little jump of mine?” she asked over her shoulder. “Just something from my former career. I used to do a hundred of those all around a temple courtyard, up and down stairs, over all sorts of obstacles people would put in my way. Of course, I was a bit smaller and younger then and used to wear a shirt and pants like a boy.”

“You must’ve been something to see,” said Tora, wondering how this large woman could ever have resembled a boy. “But don’t you think it might be dangerous during a real fight? I mean, you lost your weapon when you did the somersault.”