The Dark Glory War (19 page)

Leigh seemed oblivious to it all. He led us straight to a booth that offered prizes in exchange for shooting arrows into targets that seemed, at least to me, to be painfully close. We were offered ten arrows for a copper penny, which meant one of our silver coins would get us a thousand arrows. Five arrows in the target’s heart would win a garland, which, at this range, was child’s play.

Leigh smiled at me. “You’re our archer, Hawkins. Care to try your luck?”

“Gladly.” I produced my silver piece and snapped it down on the counter. “Goodman, I’ll take ten arrows, please.”

The man eyed the silver coin suspiciously, then produced ten arrows and handed me a bow. Nay moved around to watch him counting out my change while I stepped up to the line and looked at the selection of targets. “I will be shooting at the hart.”

“Your pleasure, sir,” the man grunted.

Child’s play aptly describes the task I’d set for myself because the bow I’d been handed was the weak sort of thing a child might have been given. The bowstring hung limp and the bow’s wood had little spring to it. I could throw arrows further than it would shoot them, but I assumed it would be able to get an arrow to the target.

The arrows themselves were little better than the bow.

Most were warped and all were poorly fletched. Their points had been blunted by use and not a few had split at the nocking point. It struck me that not only could we not bring weapons into the festival, but they didn’t allow anyone to find them here either.

Leigh smiled at me. “A problem, Tarrant?”

“Not at all, my lord.” I nocked an -arrow, drew a bead on my target, then let fly.

The hart, which was made of grass-and-leaf-stuffed sacking tied around a frame to approximate the shape of a deer, had a big red heart painted behind its forward shoulder. My arrow started for it perfectly, but died before it could reach the target and instead stuck into the ground a good four feet in front of it.

Leigh coughed into his hand. “The wind, Hawkins?”

“Yes, the wind killed it. Must be that.” I nocked another arrow, drew it back, sighted, raised my aimpoint and loosed it. The arrow wobbled a lot in flight, but struck the target in the ribs. Missed the heart by a handspan. “Lungstuck. Wouldn’t have run far.”

“True, Hawkins, but further than we’d have wanted to run after it, yes?” Leigh picked up an arrow and spun it around its central axis. “Perhaps this one will fly true.”

“This hart’s heart this time.” I drew, sighted, and shot. The arrow did fly true as predicted and hit the painted heart squarely at its center.

Then, with a metallic clink, it bounced off.

Leigh’s left eyebrow arched above his moonmask. “A rather stiff wind that time, eh, Hawkins?”

“Oh, yes, the wind.”

“Perhaps,” came a male voice from behind us, “it is the wind from so many brags about Oriosan archers and their skill.”

The three of us turned to see who had insulted us, but immediately dropped to a knee. Leigh raised his head just a whit and smiled. “Your Highness, it is an honor.”

Princess Ryhope smiled at us, and there was no denying she was beautiful. She was four years our senior and had sparkling eyes the shade of blue seen on distant mountains, or in a clear summer sky. Her long black hair had been gathered back into a braid and bound with ribbons that matched her eyes. A dusting of freckles graced her pale cheeks and the tip of her nose—a fawn-colored mask covered her cheekbones and forehead. She wore a simple dress of brown that was more suited to riding than it was to court, and carried a small fan in her right hand. A blue scarf had been fastened around her neck, the long ends of which rode a slight breeze to trail back over her right shoulder.

Courtiers surrounded her, but the man who had spoken had taken one step toward us. An inch or so shorter than me, and a mite leaner, he still had the look of a warrior about him. His black hair had been shorn close to his head, in keeping with Alcidese custom, and no mask hid his face or brown eyes. He’d grown a luxurious moustache, the ends of which curled back along his cheeks, and one gold earring hung from his left ear. His clothes, from boots and breeches to a simple tunic and jerkin, ran from dark brown to a light fawn, making him and Ryhope something of a pair.

Ryhope shut her fan and lightly tapped the man on the shoulder. “Prince Augustus, Oriosa does produce great archers; better than the bowyers and fletchers of Alcida, it would seem.”

“But, Princess, from what your brother said, superior skill should overcome inferior equipment.”

Leigh’s head came up. “Please, Highness, do not rebuke Prince Augustus for having inferior equipment.”

The Alcidese prince glanced at Leigh, turned away, then looked at him again. Leigh gave him a oh-yes-I-did-dare-say-that smile, and Princess Ryhope’s reopened fan hid a smile. Titters came from the rest of the entourage, and I know I had a hard time keeping my laughter choked back.

Leigh rose to his feet and bowed deeply. “I am mortified, Highness, that my man’s performance here has cast a pall over the reputation of Oriosan archers. I would make amends. I offer, here and now, to shoot one arrow and strike the hart in the heart.”

Augustus barked a quick laugh. “Your man just did that.”

“Yes, but I will do it blindfolded.”

I looked at Leigh and he at me. “Are you still drunk, Leigh?” I whispered.

“Attend me and it will work, Hawkins.” He smiled. “Highness, if I could trouble you for your scarf.”

Ryhope handed her fan to one of her ladies in waiting, then unknotted the scarf. Augustus took it from her, then held it up and peered through it easily. “Faugh, this is no blindfold.”

Leigh took it from him, then began folding it and refolding it into a strip an inch wide. “Folded it is impenetrable to sight.” He held it up for Augustus to see and the Alcidese prince snorted. Leigh turned to me and placed it over my eyes. “Can you see through this, Hawkins?”

“No, my lord.”

“Good.” He turned and handed the bunched scarf to Nay. “Show it to those who would like to see it.” As Nay carried it off, Leigh turned back to the counter where seven arrows remained. He chose one and showed it to me. As the others were distracted by Nay, Leigh’s voice dropped into a whisper. “You will stand beside me, close, facing me across the bow. Point your right foot at the heart.”

I nodded. “This arrow will fly straight, my lord.”

“Good.” He turned to those watching us and held the arrow up for inspection. “Nothing unusual about the arrow, yes?”

He got shakes and nods from all of them, then handed the arrow to me. He picked up the bow, tested its pull, then nodded. He assumed a heroic pose, legs spread properly, the bow gripped in his left hand, his body perpendicular to the target. Glancing back over his right shoulder, he beckoned Nay back with his right hand.

“Nay, if you will, the blindfold.”

“No, that won’t do.” Prince Augustus snared the end of the blue scarf. “He’s your confederate.”

“I give you my word, Highness, even if I could, I would not look at the target.” Leigh reached up and tugged his moonmask a little higher. “I’m half blinded by this moonmask as it is.”

“Augustus has a point.” Princess Ryhope took the scarf from Nay and stepped up behind. “I will blind him.”

“Your beauty and grace already blind me, Highness.”

Ryhope smiled and slipped the scarf over Leigh’s eyes. The blue cloth settled neatly into the valley created by his moonmask. She knotted the cloth securely, then patted Leigh on the shoulder. “Shoot well. Oriosa’s honor is at stake.”

Leigh brought the bow up. “The arrow, Hawkins. Help me nock it.”

I settled the arrow atop his left hand and nocked it, then guided his right hand to the bowstring. As requested I pointed my right foot at the target. Leigh turned his head toward his left shoulder, brought his left arm up a bit, drew the arrow back and shot.

The arrow sped from the bow and flew straight. It was likely the best shot I’d ever seen Leigh get off. It arced down into the target and struck the hart in the heart, punctuating the rising chorus behind us with astonished gasps.

Then it bounced off, and the spectators sighed with disappointment.

Prince Augustus went from being shocked to triumphant in a heartbeat. “It did not stick.”

Leigh turned calmly and faced him without taking off the blindfold. “I merely offered to hit the target in the heart, not stick the arrow there. What good is a killing shot on something that cannot be killed?”

Princess Ryhope touched Augustus’ arm. “You wanted a display of skill, Highness, not dinner. I vouchsafe, however, give this Oriosan a good horse, a full quiver and a good bow, and there is nothing he could not slay to feed you.”

Leigh bowed deeply. “You are too kind, Princess.” He tugged off the blindfold and held it out to her. “Your scarf.”

She shook her head. “Keep it, noble sir; you have earned it.”

“I am Bosleigh Norrington, at your service and forever in your debt.”

“And richer for that debt I shall be, I have no doubt.” The princess smiled and turned away, walking off with her entourage in tow.

We watched her go, then Leigh laughed and handed the bow back to the booth’s owner. “Well, my good men, that was an adventure.”

Nay blinked slowly at Leigh, his jaw agape. He glanced from the target to Leigh and back again, measuring and re-measuring the shot he’d seen. His blinking, powered by complete disbelief, sped up. His voice came hushed and cautiously reverential. “The shot … How?”

Leigh looked around, saw the booth owner leaning close, so he pulled us away. “It was simple, Nay. As I set myself to be blindfolded, I did two things. First I positioned my feet so I was already aimed at the target. The shot was as good as in the beast at that point. I also tugged my moonmask up a bit, which let me look down past my nose at my feet, and Hawkins’ feet. Hawkins had a toe pointed at the heart, which allowed me to double-check my aim. I moved my arm up at the angle he had to make his shot and let fly. I hit.”

Nay shook his head in amazement. “Had the deed been unseen …”

I laughed. “Don’t be too impressed yet, Nay. Tell me, Leigh, what had you planned to say when you missed?”

Leigh scratched at his chin. “A variety of things, mostly revolving around how a hart reminded me of Princess Ryhope and that how I could not shoot something as beautiful, graceful, and charming as she. I had variations worked on that theme.”

I shook my head. “So the hart wasn’t the only target you were aiming at?”

“No, and it looks as if I got two hits with one arrow.” He held the scarf up to his nose and sniffed. “Two solid hits.”

“Let’s hope her heart isn’t as armored as that of the target.” My stomach growled. “Shall we eat?”

“Yes, I think so.” Leigh unknotted the scarf, then slipped it around his own neck. “And after that, back into Yslin. For making that shot I need to thank Kedyn a great deal, and even cast some silver to Euris and Arel.”

“Lots of it to Arel, because that shot was pure luck.” Nay patted Leigh on the back. “And seems you’ll be pressing your luck to pursue the princess, so you can have my silver as well.”

We found the Temple to Kedyn pretty easily—perhaps I should say we found thenearest Temple to Kedyn easily, since there were three scattered around Yslin. The one we entered was in the old imperial style, with tall columns and friezes depicting battles worked all around the upper reaches and even edging the priests‘-walk. Massive bronze double doors, nearly black with age, stood open—though they didn’t seem terribly inviting.

Inside, the temple’s layout only varied in one significant way from the temple at Valsina—aside from having been constructed on a scale that dwarfed our temple. Back behind the statue of Kedyn, where we had a blank wall between the alcoves devoted to Fesyin and Gesric, the Alcidese had a long gallery extending a good distance deeper into the temple. After buying our incense and offering it, along with prayers, to Kedyn, we moved to explore the gallery.

I’d never quite seen anything like it. Row upon row of little statues, most no bigger than the dolls children play with, stood in various martial and mythical poses. Some showed warriors hacking off the heads of fallen foes, while others stabbed spears or swords into dragons and griffins, big snakes and howling beasts that looked a lot like gibberkin. Male and female statues were intermingled. Around the base of each a little moat of sand supported incense sticks and candles, the flickering flames of which cast haunting shadows up the walls and even onto the curve of the arched ceiling.

What had attracted us to the gallery was the sheer number of people, more young than old, who bypassed Kedyn and moved directly to these little statues. They stood before them, or knelt, their heads bowed and their hands in the appropriate position as if they were praying to Kedyn himself. None of the three of us could figure out what was going on, but I very much felt as if I’d fallen asleep and awakened in another world that was a step or two removed from my own.

We returned to the inn and did not find Lord Norrington there. Instead, a message that told us to go to a specific place in the city. Severus pointed us in the proper direction and we set off. We wove through crowds, then ascended a tower and took passage on one of the baskets strung between buildings. The basket swayed a bit as we went along, and Leigh had no interest in looking down.

Nay and I clutched the edges of the basket as the ferryman pulled us along to our destination. We passed from a newer section of the city into an older one, avoiding the tangled warren of streets below. Because we passed by only fifty feet or so above the ground, seeing things below in great detail was not a problem. We saw everything from washing hung out to dry to children playing, and what appeared to be a footchase between two city guardsmen and a sneak thief.

We arrived at the far tower and descended into the older section of the city. When we arrived at the corner of Fishmarket and Pearl Streets, we saw no one we recognized and no one approached us. I wasn’t certain why we were there, then Nay spotted the Phoenix Fledgling sign near an alley mouth and we headed into it.