The Fighting Man. Adrian Deans
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effortless skill and said, ‘Olaf didn’t stand a chance.’
‘It’s a bit harder to judge … shooting out of the dark into light … the different light seems to play tricks on the eyes. But at least you are hard to see if you are in the dark and the target is in the light. I was only twenty paces from Olaf when I shot him.’
There was no mistaking the pride in her voice, and I envied her prowess. I took two arrows from the quiver, as she had done, and started walking to my right. I stared hard at Valla’s arrows, pictured my own nestled alongside, and released …
And saw a flicker past the tree and heard a distant thunk as the arrow struck an object deeper in the forest.
‘You’re thinking too much about the bow,’ said Valla. ‘You have to just think the target dead, so the bow is an unconscious medium of death … between your brain and the target.’
I wasn’t entirely sure that I understood what she meant, and although I had asked her to teach me the bow, I couldn’t help but resent her talent. Without further word I nocked the second arrow and started moving back to my left – which seemed even harder – and sure enough, the arrow flashed away, missing by a greater distance than the first.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We can’t afford to lose those.’
We paused at the tree to pull her arrows and then began the search for my errant shafts. I went left as she went right and after a few seconds heard her call, ‘Found it.’
I hadn’t heard the second arrow strike anything so it could be anywhere. I pulled another arrow from my quiver and nocked it as I moved silently forward – desperate to prove my worth.
As I rounded a large tree, I was confronted with a hare caught in a snare and, after snatching a quick glance over my shoulder, shot the already dead hare from two feet away, then swiftly released it.
∞ ∞ ∞
‘That was a mighty shot,’ said Carl yet again as Valla skinned and boned the hare to prepare a similar meal to that we’d eaten the previous night. She was smiling.
‘Tell us again how it was done.’
I had already told the story twice and was getting a little embarrassed in the face of Carl’s admiration and Valla’s silent mirth. I suspected that somehow she was aware of my subterfuge.
‘I heard a scrabbling ahead,’ I said. ‘I raised the bow as the hare suddenly leapt from cover and … without even thinking … loosed the arrow and saw the hare bowled over.’
‘Amazing,’ repeated Carl.
‘Yes … amazing,’ said Valla. ‘One minute he can’t hit a tree, then moments later he takes a hare on the fly with an arrow through the throat. Incredible.’
‘You are a fine teacher Valla,’ I said, hoping to change the subject.
‘That may be,’ she said, amused, ‘but not so fine as to teach you to shoot into yesterday.’
Carl looked up at her, confused, as I burned with embarrassment.
‘Shoot into yesterday?’ he queried.
‘The hare’s been dead for at least a day,’ she explained, tossing some of the skin and scraps to Malgard, ‘so if it was killed by Brand, that can only mean he is able to shoot backwards into time past.’
Valla burst into laughter as Carl continued to look confused.
‘Let’s just hope that the owner of the hare doesn’t miss it yet,’ said Valla. ‘And doesn’t have too many friends.’
∞ ∞ ∞
We roasted the hare over a small fire and washed it down with spring water and some more early blackberries. We had no cave or other shelter, and despite it being summer we were all conscious of the chill as darkness fell.
I had collected plenty of dried wood while there was still light, so was able to tend the fire, but the chill grew worse and we huddled closer – our faces hot and our backs cold.
‘What do you know of the king and his politics?’ asked Carl.
I wasn’t sure I understood the question and shrugged.
‘How do you think you will be received?’
‘Aah … I have heard my father say that King Edward is just in his dealings. I can only trust that he will hear me … I do have this.’
I held up the ring of office which I wore precariously on the thickest finger of my right hand.
‘Malgard was deeply distressed when he realised that was gone,’ said Carl. ‘But he thought it more likely one of the Danes had taken it than you. It is a delicate alliance he has with Ulrik Dragontooth.’
‘The Danes that escaped will go back to Ulrik and report that no ring was found on Brand when he was captured,’ said Valla.
‘That news will take a while to get to Malgard,’ said Carl, ‘unless Ulrik sails to Lundene to trade. But when it does, he will be angered and fearful to know that Brand lives. He will send out more assassins.’
The chill crept over me – both future threat and present cold – and I shivered. More wood went onto the fire and I found myself drawn into its black and red depths like watching a vision of life in a great city. It would be strange and searing in such a place, but at least I’d be safe from the cold – and Malgard.
‘It is time for sleep,’ said Carl, disturbing my reverie and bringing me back to present danger. ‘We should lie together for warmth.’
I glanced at Valla and her eyes narrowed.
‘I don’t trust Brand,’ she said.
I was indignant, but Carl said, ‘Lie back to back with Brand … and I also shall turn my back to you, but you will still be warmed by two backs.’
After some muttering and difficulty, we arranged ourselves – with Malgard the hound also curled between my and Valla’s knees. It was warm enough, but as I knew it would, the feel of Valla’s body and her soft breath against my neck caused the serpent to uncoil and I lay restively as the breathing of the others became slow and regular.
The serpent saved our lives.
As I huddled against Valla resenting both her mistrust and rejection of my lordly rights, I became aware that the night noises had stilled. That usually meant a new presence, and I remembered my sword was lying in its scabbard on the far side of the dying fire.
I lay without breathing, trying to pick out the sounds of stealth that would confirm my fears, then I pressed my leg down on Malgard to gently wake him.
Almost immediately he began to growl softly and I felt a horror – there was something, or someone, very close.
Without further thought, I leapt up from the ground and ran for my sword just visible in the red glow of the embers, and no sooner had I done so I heard a thump and then a curse.
‘Valla!’ I shouted, pulling the sword from the scabbard and peering vainly into the darkness. There were black shapes moving and I leapt towards them, swinging the sword and feeling it catch against something – then the shapes were backing away and more red light bathed the clearing as Valla and Carl threw kindling onto the fire.
‘Who was that?’ I exclaimed, but Valla shrugged.
‘The owners of the hare. Get out of the firelight … unless you want to be a target.’
We all shrank away from the deadly warmth and light, but not before I noticed a large rock part-buried in the ground, where my head had been.
‘Some of your magic might be useful?’ I muttered at Valla.
‘Still!’ she hissed, and crouched low with an arrow nocked, searching the immediate trees for targets. Suddenly a wild laughter rang out of the darkness – taken up by several