Instinctively, he kicked the pitchfork at his feet up into his hands and twirled it to block the stick thrown by Hanzo. He knocked it aside before it struck him.
Hanzo stared at Ryuichi for a long minute, then turned to his son. “You see, Mikito? That instinct is so hard to find, and even harder to teach. Help him clean up this mess and pack his things.”
“Yes, sir.” Mikito bowed as Hanzo strode out, sword in hand.
Confused, Ryuichi looked at Mikito. “What just happened?”
“My father is going to speak to your master. You’ll be leaving here with us.”
That made no sense to him. He was never allowed to leave. “And go where?”
“To Iga.”
Ryuichi blinked, then blinked again at the unexpected news. “Where’s Iga?”
“Three days away.”
It sounded so simple, and yet he still couldn’t comprehend what Mikito was telling him. “Why take me?”
“We have a school there. Averyspecial school,” Mikito said with pride. “Our teachers can help you hone the skills you already have. You should be thrilled. My father never does this.”
Ryuichi stared at the boy as he tried to digest what he was being told. This had happened so fast. He couldn’t believe it.
Hanzo wanted him? Because he could swat a stick?
It just didn’t make sense to him. He wasn’t sure what to feel, and deep down, there was a lump of fear and apprehension.
Well, you always wanted to be wanted.
True, but this reminded him of an old adage.Don’t invite the tiger to replace the wolf. Because that usually comes with a giant dose of regret. Not to mention an even bigger heaping of humiliation.
CHAPTERTWO
At the top of the hill, Ryuichi reined his horse. His throat went dry. When Mikito had told him that they were heading for a school in Iga, the last thing he’d expected was for that school to be housed inside a giant castle.
He’d been expecting a modest dojo or a smaller castle, like the one he’d just left.
Never in his life had he seen a fortress so intimidating or beautiful.
Of course, he’d never seen any other than Hiero-san’s, which had been small and very circumspect.
But this...
Besides being massive, it rose up from the stone base like an elegant beast. “It looks like a siege of herons in flight.”
Mikito laughed beside him as he reined his black stallion. “It’s supposed to.”
The white plaster walls glistened in contrast to the high-arched black roofs. Gold sparkled in the fading sunlight from the carvings that decorated each joint, and the two large dragons poised on top as if they were taking a rest.
Or guarding it.
Truly, no other castle could be so beautiful. “What’s it called?”
Mikito grinned at him. “Maho-jo.”
Castle of Sorcery?A wave of foreboding swept through Ryuichi. “Pardon?”
Mikito didn’t respond as he kicked his horse forward.
