Free Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne by Kerri Hawkins Page A

it,” Ryan chided him.
    Kusunoki smiled, a gesture that would surprise most who knew the stern warrior.
    “It will not so easily break, I forged it specially for you.”
    Kusunoki stepped rearward, then forward on his attack. The blades began flashing in the sunlight, barely discernible as two distinct objects. The athleticism of the combat was matched only by the grace of the contestants. The two appeared to move as one in a deadly dance, lethal choreography honed over centuries. The blurred swords seemed to sing as they sliced through the air, their song increasing in tempo until there was only a single, prolonged note in the air.
    The intensity of the battle increased until neither combatant could be clearly seen, only a smeared impression of where they had just been. The intensity grew until the very air hummed with electricity, sparks flying from the deadly blades. Finally, as the battle seemed to approach a climax, hurtling toward some unknown conclusion, both combatants went to strike a killing blow.
    And all went still.
    Ryan stared across at Kusunoki, and Kusunoki at Ryan. They were frozen in a dangerous embrace. Each had trapped the blade of the other in the palm of their free hand, and each now gripped the other sword tightly.
    Ryan smiled, and Kusunoki smiled in return. Each slowly began to withdraw their sword from the grip of the other, slicing deeply into the skin. Neither flinched, nor showed any sign of pain. Ryan appeared to enjoy the incision.
    Kusunoki raised his bloody palm and Ryan mirrored the gesture, pressing her palm to his. The mingling of the blood sent shockwaves through both, but it was Kusunoki who closed his eyes at the sensation. He reopened them and gazed at his most beloved student.
    “I have missed you,” he said simply.
    Ryan smiled. It was rare for the taciturn warrior to express any emotion.
    “And I have missed you, my master.” She held his gaze, “And I have not forgotten my debt to you.”
    Kusunoki nodded, and removed his hand. Both felt the loss of contact keenly.
    Ryan lifted the katana up, examining it in the sunlight. It was beautiful.
    “It is perfectly balanced, a true work of art.” She gave it one last experimental swing, then lowered it.
    “Jason,” she called over her shoulder.
    Jason ran up quickly, his eyes wide. Ryan handed the sword to him, and he took it gingerly.
    “Take this in the house and give it to Edward.”
    Jason could not believe his good fortune. He held the sword as if it were made of gold and began carefully working his way back to the mansion.
    Ryan turned to Kusunoki. “Let me show you to your quarters. I must say,” she said thinking of Abigail’s requirements, “that you were the easiest to prepare for.”
    Kusunoki smiled. He knew his room would be simple and spare, decorated in an ascetic style that would make him comfortable. He put his hand on his most favored student’s shoulder and the two started toward the stairs.
    The group of men watched the two leave, none having moved since the battle began. The older of the group finally shifted, and it seemed to break the spell. The others began moving about, although slowly. The younger man who had so boldly addressed Ryan was still frozen. He stared dumbfounded at Ryan’s retreating back. The consort leaned over to speak in his ear.
    “Lucky for you,” the older man said to him with sarcasm, “she doesn’t like the rapier.”
    Ryan entered the mansion with Kusunoki at her side. Edward met them at the door, bowing deeply to the ancient samurai.
    “Kusunoki Masahige,” Edward said, utilizing his full name, “welcome.” He glanced at the blood on Kusunoki’s hand. “Would you care for a bandage, sir?”
    Kusunoki shook his head. “Thank you, Edward. It will heal in a moment.”
    Marilyn chose that moment to sail into the room. “Ah, Kusunoki. No wonder Ryan is in such high spirits. I imagine you two have already been off beating each other to death?”
    Kusunoki bowed to the