Samurai Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

with dark eyes and long black hair.
    She smiled as she saw him.   “Get cleaned up, Akira.   I won’t have you smelling like a monkey at dinner.”
    Akira laughed and made chimp noises at her.   He grinned as she covered her mouth to hide her laughter.   He ran to his room and grabbed clean clothes before nearly tripping over the servant girl who was carrying a hot kettle of water to the bathhouse.
    “I’m sorry, Miko,” he said as the girl nearly sloshed the kettle’s contents.
    She bowed but looked somewhat annoyed as he walked into the bathhouse where a tub filled with water stood.   Miko walked in, bowed to him, poured the water into the tub, and left.   Akira stuck his hand in the water and found it warm enough to bathe in.
    He stripped naked and slid into the tub.   As he scrubbed himself with rice bran, Akira replayed the events from the day.   How lucky he was to have found the Tengu.   It was obviously a benevolent spirit, perhaps sent by the gods to help him out.   He marveled at the Tengu’s teaching style and at its patience in dealing with his obvious mistakes.   Perhaps he was destined for greater things, Akira reflected.
    And why not? Akira thought as he rubbed the rice bran through his sweaty hair.   I am a samurai, the son of a major daimyo.   Certainly the gods would have taken notice of him already.
    He winced as he touched the bruises on his arm.   Was this how the great warriors such as Yoshitsune were helped by the gods?   He would have to get tougher if he wanted to be a great warrior.   Obviously the Tengu, the wind kami, thought he was something special.   He frowned at the bruises.   Did great warriors have bruises from bokken strikes?   He didn’t know.
    Rinsing himself off, he got out of the tub and picked up the cloth used for a towel.   He dried himself as well as he could and slid into the clean clothes Miko had left for him.   He was hungry and he looked forward to seeing Ikumi.   He wished he could tell her about the Tengu, but he knew the Tengu would not help him unless he kept the training secret.
    He finished getting dressed and went back to the dining room, sliding open a shoji screen.   The delectable scent of cooked rice and fish filled his nostrils.   Ikumi already sat at the table that Miko and the other servants had brought.   She smiled at him as Miko poured a cup of tea for her.
    Akira bowed.   Ikumi was more than just his mother; she was the lady daimyo and held power as surely as his father, Takeshi, did.   She answered his bow with a nod and glanced where she wanted him to sit.   Akira removed his sandals before entering the room and took his place beside her.
    He thanked Miko quietly as she poured him tea and set some rice and fish in front of him.   He picked up his chopsticks and began eating.
    “How was your day, Akira-chan?” Ikumi asked.
    Akira swallowed, wondering how to explain his day without mentioning the Tengu.   He drank some tea.   “Rokuro is very difficult but I’ve managed.”
    “What are you working on?”
    “ Swordwork .”
    Ikumi nodded.   “Rokuro is a tough teacher, but you should respect him.   He has taught Takeshi and me how to fight.”
    Akira looked up from his rice.   “You learned under Rokuro?”   He hadn’t considered that Ikumi would have learned her fighting skills from the old sensei.
    “Not exactly,” Ikumi said with a slight smile.   “But he did help me refine certain techniques.   They say he is so good that even the kami have come to him for help.”   She picked up a sweet rice cake and nibbled on it.
    Akira shifted.   He didn’t like how this conversation was going, and he wondered if Ikumi guessed that he was being taught by a Tengu.   That’s ridiculous, he thought.   There is no way she would know that I was training with the Tengu.   “I didn’t know Rokuro was so powerful.”
    “There are many things you don’t know, my son,” she said.   “You need to get better