Chapter 13 The Archer

The first weapons were laid out before sunrise.

Rows of wooden practice swords, spears, shields, axes and bows rested neatly along the edge of the yard. Three hundred recruits stood opposite them, exchanging quiet glances as they tried to work out what the day would bring. For the first time since arriving, nobody had to carry packs or run laps before breakfast.

Bram looked at the racks hopefully.

"I've changed my mind," he whispered. "I was born for this part."

Corin folded his arms.

"You've never held a sword."

"I've held sticks."

"That's not the same."

"They're both made of wood."

Corin sighed.

"I already miss yesterday."

Bram grinned.

"I knew you liked me really."

Before Corin could answer, Aldric stepped forward and the conversations stopped.

"You've spent two weeks learning how to move," he said. "Now we'll find out what you're moving with."

His gaze travelled along the line.

"Some of you arrived convinced you already knew how to fight. Today you'll discover the difference between winning a village brawl and surviving a battlefield."

He gestured towards the weapon racks.

"You'll try everything."

The morning began with swords.

Pairs of recruits spread across the yard while instructors demonstrated the basic guards and footwork. The first exchanges were awkward, with wooden blades striking shoulders instead of swords and recruits stumbling over unfamiliar movements.

Bram lasted less than half a minute before Corin tapped him smartly across the arm.

"Ow."

"You dropped your guard."

"I was smiling."

"That was your mistake."

The next strike caught Bram neatly across the ribs.

"I preferred the first lesson."

Across the yard Dane listened carefully, copied each movement and adjusted quickly when corrected. He wasn't the strongest or the quickest, but neither did he struggle. When the instructors moved on, they remembered him only as another competent recruit.

Spears followed.

The extra reach suited some men immediately while others fought the weapon as much as their opponent. Again Dane learned steadily without drawing attention to himself.

Axes proved less successful.

One recruit lost his grip entirely, sending the practice weapon bouncing harmlessly across the dirt.

Bram watched it disappear.

"I feel that represents all of us."

Corin shook his head.

"It represents one of us."

By early afternoon the recruits had begun quietly comparing themselves with one another. Some clearly preferred heavier weapons while others handled swords with surprising speed. Small rivalries appeared naturally.

Dane ignored them.

He had never used most of these weapons before arriving at the compound. There was no pride attached to any of them.

Only work.

Rhett watched from the edge of the yard. He paid little attention to the strongest recruits, instead watching those who learned quickly, corrected mistakes after making them once and understood rather than copied. His eyes settled on Dane several times.

Reliable.

Attentive.

Still waiting to discover himself.

Late in the afternoon Aldric called for the final assessment.

Several instructors disappeared before returning with bundles of longbows. A murmur spread through the recruits. Few had expected archery.

The bows were handed out one by one.

When Dane accepted his, he weighed it instinctively in his hand.

It felt... right.

Not familiar.

Simply right.

Aldric pointed towards the targets lining the far end of the field.

"Twenty arrows."

He paused.

"No coaching. No corrections."

"Shoot."

The first arrows filled the air.

Some missed the targets completely while others struck the outer rings. A handful landed near the centre.

Bram loosed his first arrow.

It sailed well over the target before disappearing somewhere beyond the practice field.

He stared after it.

"I think it's joining the army independently."

Corin's arrow landed solidly in the outer ring.

"Better."

"I was aiming for that tree."

"You weren't."

"I might have been."

Dane raised his bow.

He drew the string slowly.

The sounds of the yard faded until only the target remained.

He released.

The arrow struck just inside the centre ring.

He blinked.

Perhaps luck.

The second arrow landed almost beside the first.

Then another.

By the sixth arrow an instructor had stopped walking. By the tenth Aldric had crossed the yard. Gradually the conversations around the range faded as more recruits realised something unusual was happening.

Arrow after arrow struck the target with remarkable consistency.

Not every shot was perfect.

None were poor.

When Dane lowered the bow after his twentieth arrow, he realised the entire range had fallen silent.

He looked uncertainly towards Aldric.

"Sir?"

Aldric studied the target before turning back to him.

"Where did you learn?"

"I didn't."

"You've hunted?"

"No."

"Practised?"

Dane shook his head.

"My grandfather owned a bow."

"And?"

"He never let me touch it."

"Why?"

"He said I'd know when I was ready."

Aldric was quiet for a moment before turning to one of the instructors.

"Bring Captain Rhett."

Rhett arrived a minute later.

He looked first at the target.

Then at Dane.

"Again."

Without question Dane accepted another quiver.

He shot twenty more arrows.

This time he didn't think.

He simply breathed, drew and released.

The pattern repeated.

If anything, it improved.

The final arrow split the shaft of one already buried near the centre.

Nobody spoke.

Rhett walked to the target, pulled the arrows free and examined one before handing it back.

"You've never trained?"

"No, sir."

Rhett nodded once.

"I believe you."

That surprised Dane.

"You do?"

"You don't hold it like an archer."

He handed the bow back.

"You hold it like someone listening."

Dane wasn't sure what that meant.

Rhett didn't explain.

That evening the barracks buzzed louder than they had since arriving.

Every conversation found its way back to the archery range.

Bram sat opposite Dane wearing exaggerated disappointment.

"I've decided I don't like hidden talents."

"I didn't know."

"That's somehow worse."

Corin continued polishing his boots.

"I told you."

"Told me what?"

"That quiet people are dangerous."

Bram pointed dramatically across the room.

"One minute you're missing me with practice swords. The next you're splitting arrows."

"I'm not that good."

"You looked suspiciously like you were."

Even Dane smiled.

Across the room, unnoticed by the recruits, Rhett paused in the doorway before quietly stepping back outside.

Aldric joined him.

"So?"

Rhett looked back towards the laughter drifting from the barracks.

"He doesn't know what he is yet."

"And the bow?"

"The bow isn't what interests me."

Aldric waited.

Rhett looked towards the eastern hills.

"It's how calm he becomes when everyone else starts watching."

Neither man said anything more.

Beyond the compound, somewhere across the border, another army was preparing its own chosen weapons.

Neither side yet knew which one would matter most.