The Golden Tiger
by Radclyffe
Drew Clark -- martial arts master, army combat instructor, tormented warrior. Can her hidden wounds be healed by a student's love? 1995
CHAPTER ONE
Sean knelt in the center of the room with her eyes closed, hands resting gently on her thighs, waiting for the test board to convene. The other students knelt along the sides of the polished wood floor, their voices hushed in an effort not to disturb her concentration. It was one of the hottest nights of the already oppressively hot summer, and despite the window fans, the air was still and heavy.
Seans dark hair was held back by a white silk head band tied about her forehead, and sweat already dampened the wavy tendrils just above her collar. Her uniform was immaculately pressed, the jacket tied over the white canvas pants with the red belt that denoted her rank. As the senior student in the class, she was about to test for the black stripes which would signify her first step toward the rank of chodan , or first degree black belt. It had taken her four years of mental and physical determination to reach this point. Every student in the room looked to her as an example, knowing that eventually they would reach the same moment of truth.
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Sean was aware of their presence. She welcomed their support, but she thought only of her breath flowing in and out, holding only that in her awareness, clearing all other images from her mind. Her face was composed, reflecting physical and mental calm. Clear, emerald eyes were a stark contrast to her dark hair and honey rich complexion. Her features were finely formed, but not fragile. There was strength in her face, and a peacefulness. What would happen here in the next hour was beyond her control; there was no longer time for nerves or self-doubts. What she was called upon to do, she would do.
"Face the door!" a student called as the black belted test board gathered at the door to the dojang .
" Chariot ! Attention!" came the command, and each student snapped to attention with their hands at their sides, their feet together.
" Kung Ye ! Bow!" As one, the class bowed to their teachers.
The black belts, led by their chief instructor, Master Janet Cho, bowed in return and moved to stand in front of the long table where the test forms were piled. Each woman was dressed in a formal white uniform, the arms and legs of the crisp cotton bearing strips of black to indicate their level of dan , or black belt.
The class faced them, hands clasped behind their backs, their feet shoulder-width apart, their eyes fixed forward. The room was completely silent except for the faint humming of the fans.
"Tonight is a special night for all of you," the small Korean woman in the center of the room began. She was a first generation American-Korean and spoke with the cadence of her ancestors, her tone gentle but commanding. "Tonight Sean begins a year of work and study that will culminate in her testing for black belt. Much will be expected of her this next year, for it will be a year of transition. As she moves forward, she must necessarily move away from all of you. She must learn to teach by her example the responsibility of the rank she seeks, and part of that responsibility will be to guide you on your own path. Sometimes that requires criticismcriticism that comes from a place of caringbut still a difficult gift to give. She can no longer be your friendshe must become your teacher. You will gain much more than you imagine you are losing, because all of you have helped her reach this point. Without you she could not have practiced as hard nor had the support she needed to overcome her own obstacles. Each of you should be proud of yourselves."
The woman met each face in the class as she spoke, and ten strong women gazed back at her.
"Tonight is also a special night for me. Each time one of my students begins this journey, I am reminded of why I do this work. Your gains are a gift to me for which I thank you. I am especially honored tonight to have with me on the test board Master Drew Clark, who was one of my first students. After attaining her black belt, Master Clark left Philadelphia for the armed forces training school in Virginia, where she has taught martial arts for ten years. We are pleased to have her back in Philadelphia, and back in the Golden Tiger Kwan. Please face Master Clark and welcome her to your school."
The students again snapped to attention and faced the tall blond woman who stood on Janet Chos left side. Where Master Cho was small and compact, this woman was tall and lean, her features angular and chiseled. Her bearing was intensely serious, military, and she radiated physical power. There was a tension about her that was reminiscent of a great jungle cat, coiled and ready to spring. Her deep blue eyes never wavered as she also smartly brought her hands to her sides. The class bowed and she returned their bow.
"Thank you," she said, her voice deep and firm.
At that, Master Cho, Master Clark and Sabum Roma seated themselves behind the table, and the class returned to kneel along the side of the room. Only Sean remained standing.
" Chun be ! Ready position!" Master Cho commanded, and Sean brought her fists and outstretched arms in front of her, into the ready position. The test had begun.
"Step into a straddle stance, left punch out," Master Cho directed. "Hut!"
Sean sank into a low stance, feet widespread, thighs low and parallel to the floor. As she punched her left fist out, her breath exploded from her in an audible kiyap !
"Waist level punches! Hut!"
For ten minutes by the clock, Sean alternately punched her left and right fists forward, holding the deep and perhaps most difficult karate stance without moving. Her quadriceps trembled slightly with the effort, but she ignored the discomfort, concentrating on keeping each punch centered on the solar plexus of her imaginary opponent.
" Koman ! Halt!" her teacher instructed, and Sean stepped back into her ready stance, awaiting the next command.
"Right back stance, knife hand block! Hut!"
What followed was twenty minutes of foot and hand techniques; kicks, blocks, strikes and combinationsall designed to test her stamina and form. Sean moved purposefully from one position to the next, back straight, knees bent, in the deep linear stances which typified Tae Kwon Do. Sweat soaked her uniform and ran in rivulets down her cheeks, dripping from the well-formed angles of her jaw.
Next, she moved into self-defense drills with several of the higher ranking students as her opponents, countering punches and kicks with blocks, strikes and kicks of her own.
Forty minutes had elapsed before Master Cho called a halt.
"30 seconds for a water break, then everyone get your sparring gear on."
Sean gulped down half the bottle of sports ade she had packed and quickly strapped on her foot and hand protectors, slipped her mouth guard in, and pulled her head gear on.
"You will spar each student in the class, beginning with the white belts."
Each match lasted two minutes, during which time the two opponents attempted to "score" a hit by kicking or punching her opponent anywhere above the belt. Head contact for the lower ranks was not allowed. Sean was careful with the lower ranking students, especially the white and gold belt women, keeping them at bay with long-legged kicks and then moving in quickly for a light punch to the chest or abdomen. With the blue and green belt intermediate students, she allowed herself more power, forcing them to counter to avoid her lightning fast hands.
When she had sparred with the ninth student, an aggressive young college student who was only a year behind Sean in training, she had had to use all her concentration to avoid the quick kicks of her agile younger opponent. She felt every one of her thirty-five years as her arms and legs began to tr
emble with the sustained exertion.
When the match finally ended, both students stood at attention, waiting for the command to rest.
Drew Clark leaned over and murmured something to Master Cho, who nodded her head affirmatively after a moment's consideration. "You will finish your test with a match against Master Clark," Master Cho announced. "Black belt rules!"
Several of the students cast sidelong glances at each other in surprise. Black belt rules meant head contact was allowed, and Master Clark was a fourth dan a very experienced fighter. Anticipation swelled in the ranks, along with apprehension.
For the briefest instant, surprise flickered across Seans elegant features. Then she bowed deeply, replying, "Yes, maam!"
Drew Clark pulled sparring gloves on her hands after slipping her feet into the foam foot covers that protected her opponent from the full force of the kicks. She slipped a mouth guard in but left her head gear in her gym bag. She walked purposefully to the center of the room and faced Sean. She was a head taller than Sean, who was tall at five-eight.
Sean faced her squarely and looked into a face that stared back at her without a flicker of emotion.
"Bow to your partners," Cho called.
Each woman bent sharply at the waist, returning again to lock eyes. Seans green eyes were clear and calm.
"Free-spar ready positions!"
Sean and Drew dropped one leg aback, knees bent, so that only their forward raised fists and their sides were exposed to their opponents.
"Begin!"
Sean moved forward quickly with a front round kick to the head, followed by a hand combination, hoping to take her opponent by surprise. Drew countered quickly with a forearm block then swept Seans forward leg with her foot, a move designed to break the opponents balance. With someone less physically agile than Sean it could have knocked her to the floor. As it was, Sean had to pivot on one leg to reestablish her footing while avoiding a back fist that came perilously close to her chin. She managed a side kick that forced Drew back in an evasive move, but still Sean had not made contact. As she snapped her kicking leg back to avoid a hand trap that could topple her over, she turned quickly with a back side-kick that nearly caught Drew in the chest as she closed for a strike. Sean followed her kick in, toward her opponent, as she had been taught, attempting a jab hook combination when Drew landed an upset punch to her abdomen. Sean had sensed rather than seen it coming, and she tensed her abdominal muscles to accept the force of the blow. Still, it stung, and she tried not to be distracted by it. Her adrenaline surged in response to the pain, and she swiftly blocked the follow-up punch from Drew with her forearm. She punched a back hand jab immediately and caught Drew squarely on the chin. Drews head snapped back from the force of the blow, and for an instant, Sean was paralyzed. She hadnt intended to hit her so hardone of the sacred rules of free-sparring was to maintain control at all times, to avoid injuring your sparring partner. That second of uncertainty was her undoing. Drew absorbed the blow without a break in the flow of her movements and dropped to the floor on one bent knee. She chambered a side-kick, the most devastating of karate kicks, as she slid forward, and thrust upward with her foot catching Sean squarely in the center of her unguarded chest. At the last second, Drew tempered some of the power of her kick, but it landed with enough force to send Sean to the floor.
Sean lay stunned, more from the surprise of the attack she hadnt even seen coming than from the actual force of the kick. Drew knelt quickly beside her. There was a tiny cut on Drews lip and a trickle of blood streamed down her chin unnoticed.
"Are you all right?" the deep voice questioned, one had pressing lightly against Seans abdomen. "Take a deep breath."
Sean did so and said with a slight quaver in her voice, "Im okay. Thank you, maam."
"When you have the advantage, Ms. Grey, always use it. You should have dropped me with a head kick after you landed that punch. If this were a real fight, youd be dead now."
Sean stared up into the serious face of the woman above her, mesmerized by the eyes that stared into - no - through her.
"Ill remember that, maam," she answered softly.
Drew reached a hand down to help her up. "Good fight, Ms. Grey."
Sean followed the tall womans form with her eyes as she walked to the sink to wash the blood off her face. Her words echoed in Seans mind, and the spot where Drew had rested her hand against her stomach seemed to tingle. Her teacher, Master Cho, was a strong and demanding teacher, but never had Sean experienced the sheer force of personality as she had felt with Drew Clark. There was a deadly seriousness about her, the intensity of which took Seans breath away. She jumped at the sound of her teachers voice.
"Face front!"
Sean stood at attention once more, facing the test board.
Drew had returned, a small Band-Aid on her lip.
Master Cho stepped forward, saying, "Congratulations, Sean, you did well. I am proud to promote you to black stripe."
She attached three black stripes to the tail of Seans red beltthe highest level to which she could be promoted before she received her black belt. To receive three stripes after only one test was unusual, and an honor.
Sean bowed deeply and then shook her teachers hand.
"Thank you, maam."
Master Cho dismissed the class, and the students swarmed Sean to pound her on the back and shake her hand. She barely heard the words of congratulations as she looked past the group to the austere blond woman who stood alone, watching her contemplatively.
CHAPTER TWO
"How is your lip?" Janet Cho asked as she pulled her Jeep Cherokee into the early evening traffic. She glanced over her shoulder at the rangy form of her former student, who was leaning forward in the back seat, her arms folded on the back of the front passenger seat.
Drew grinned slightly, her blue eyes laughing. "Its nothing. She caught me by surprise. A very nice follow-up to that long kick of hers. I should never underestimate a student of yours, Master Cho."
Cho smiled inwardly, recalling a night many years ago when she had had to use every trick her twenty years in the martial arts had taught her to fend off a young black belt testee in a free-sparring match. That woman sat behind her, her finest student, equaled only by a younger student who sat beside her nowher lover, Chris Roma.
"Perhaps I should have warned you about her legs. She was a professional dancer when she was younger, and she has the best kicks I have ever seen."
"Except for yours, Master Cho," Chris said from her seat beside her.
Janet laughed and reached fondly for the hand of her young lover. "You flatter me, and I love it. Im too short for really good offensive kicks. Ive had to learn to use my feet in defense, unlike you tall Americans."
"She is very good," Drew commented, remembering the total concentration on Seans face as she met each challenge that evening. She remembered too the firm muscles beneath her hand and the unguarded eyes that had met her own as she knelt above Sean. There had been a trust in the gaze that Drew was used to seeing in the eyes of her students, but, for some reason it had moved her more deeply than it usually did. It reminded her once again of the great responsibility she had in teaching these young women to defend themselves in a world that so often claimed them as victims. She pushed those thoughts away, as she had for the last eight years, refusing to allow the anger to surface and claim her mind once more.
"I kicked her too hard," Drew continued, "Im sorry."
Janet Cho shook her head. "No. It was not too hard. She must learn to accept the painfor on the street, she must fight despite the pain if she is to survive."
A quick gasp from Drew silenced Master Cho, who glanced quickly to her old friend.
"AhI am so sorry, Drew. I did not think. Please forgive me."
Drew shook her head, fighting off the memories. "No, you are right. Sometimes I forget that they still have much to learn."
"And now I will have you both to help teach them. Yes?"
Janet Cho had off
ered Drew a position at her school as a teacher as soon as she heard that Drew was leaving the Army and returning to civilian life in Philadelphia. She had not yet heard Drews answer. Drew herself had been uncertain. At forty she had retired from the Army, and she wasnt sure what she wanted from the rest of her life. She loved the martial arts. There had been years when only the demands of her training and teaching had provided any comfort in her life. Teaching women to survive, whether they were soldiers or students, had been her only purpose for many years. The demands and responsibilities of that task were enormous, and she was weary. Weary with caring, weary with the fear that she might not be giving enough. She thought again of the trust in those green eyes and made her decision.
"If you and Sabum Roma will have me."
Chris Roma, fifteen years younger, outgoing and eager, clapped her hands in delight. "All right!"
Drew leaned back in the seat, relieved. She didnt know Chris Roma very wellshe had been a young white belt when Drew left Philadelphia. Chris had started training after meeting Janet Cho at a self-defense course Master Cho had taught for graduate students at the city college. Against Janets better judgment she had accepted her lover as a student. They had been involved romantically for a year when Chris enrolled at the school, and Janet hadnt been sure they could separate their personal issues for the necessary distance between student and teacher. It was only because of Chriss deep respect for her lovers skill, dedication, and commitment to teaching that they had been successful. Within the walls of the Golden Tiger Kwan, Janet Cho was her teacher and nothing else.
Drew had been concerned that Chris might not welcome another teacher, especially one who outranked her. She had been wrong to worryChris was mature beyond her thirty years and accepted that each person progressed at her own speed, in her own time, each according to her abilities. She welcomed Drew, and the chance to advance her own skills through working with her.
"Here we are!" Janet announced as she pulled in front of a neat stone row house in a quiet section of the city, known as Society Hill. Here were some of the small historic homes for which Philadelphia was known, their carefully preserved facades echoing the gentility of the citys heritage.
Radclyffe - Love's Tender Warriors (The Golden Tiger) Page 1
