Tricked Into Flight

Chapter 2

*Katerina's POV*

The city walls slowly disappeared into the distance. Thankfully, I still hadn't seen the dragon, and there were plenty of other people using the same road to keep me from standing out.

The sound of a dog fight had me looking ahead just as the brawling canines careened into a passing horse's legs. The chestnut horse reared, unbalancing the elderly lady riding it. Those walking nearby caught her as she tumbled off. One tried to grab the reins but missed when it bolted away from the snarling dogs beneath it.

As it got closer, I waved my arms and shouted, "Whoa!" I tensed up, ready to jump out of the way if it decided it wasn't going to stop. If thoroughly spooked, nothing would stop a fleeing horse.

The horse slowed down and tossed its head. It pranced nervously in place just long enough for me to grab the reins. It took me a bit to calm it and convince it to come with me without yanking its reins free again.

The dogs had been reclaimed by their owners and were being led away, and the others in the old woman's group were helping her to her feet and making sure she was okay. None of them had horses, but she wouldn't be able to make such a trip on foot.

As I got closer, the gray-haired woman leaned on a younger man's arm as she shuffled forward and said, "Thank you so much for catching her."

"It was no problem," I replied, passing the reins to a middle-aged man, who happened to be the closest one. "Are you okay?"

"Just bruises, I think."

A younger woman beside her commented, "We're heading to the city, so we'll get a healer to check her bones, just in case."

"Thank you for catching Giselle," another man said. "We'd be in trouble if she ran for the hills or if someone else took her. I know it isn't much, but please take this as our way of saying thanks."

"Oh, I wasn't hoping for payment..." I trailed off, trying to find a polite way to decline the battered bow and quiver of arrows he held out.

"Please take it. It's old, and I was planning to buy a new one at the market."

"Thank you," I said, giving in and accepting the gift. It had been years since I last shot a bow, but it could be useful during my travels.

With a brief nod, he turned to help the woman back into the saddle. To prevent her from trying to thank me again, I continued walking down the road as I inspected my new weapon. It had definitely seen a lot of use and had likely fed the family many nights. There were a dozen arrows in the small quiver, but as long as they didn't break, that should be enough.

The thought of grilled rabbit taunted me until I left the road to find a clump of trees to practice in. I picked the oldest arrow with the dullest tip to avoid ruining the others while practicing. I pulled the string to get an idea of how hard it was to draw, then took aim at a tree trunk.

The string sang as I released the arrow, but it completely missed the tree, striking another one to the side. I winced and went to retrieve my arrow for a second attempt.

My next shot was no better. Nor was the next. The third time, the arrow clipped the side of the trunk and took shelter in a thorn bush as if it were also hiding from my embarrassing aim. Stubbornly, I reclaimed the arrow and kept trying.

Ten minutes later, I still hadn't hit the tree I was aiming at and any observing rabbits were probably laughing themselves silly. So much for my daydream of being able to use the bow for hunting purposes.

Shaking my head, I put the arrow back into my quiver in resignation and returned to the road.

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