Daughter of Ice and Fire

Two

Two hours later, Lihleih, now streaming sweat, stood in front of the target. She had made it through the first three rounds easily and now faced the last group. The winner of this round would face the winner of the group that had gone before in a head-to-head competition. She had no doubt she would win this round as well, but the winner of the other group had surprised her with his skill, and she felt the first stirrings of doubt.

The day had become uncomfortably hot and her bindings now itched. She had made it appear she was struggling during the last two rounds, but the fear of her disguise slipping was making her nervous. Raising her arm, she bit her lip and closed her eyes, seeking guidance. When none came, she sighed and opened them, ignoring the discomfort she felt. Concentrating on the target, she let the arrow fly, hitting close to but not exactly in the center. Pulling a second arrow, she repeated the action, the tip embedding itself on the exact edge of the red mark. Dropping her arm, she wiped the sweat out of her eyes, raised the bow, and let the final arrow go. It landed exactly in the center, causing a chorus of cheers from the onlookers and groans from the other three members of her group.

Glancing at the winner from the last group, she was surprised to see him lounging against a table with his arms crossed. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, giving her a lazy smile as he tipped his hat. Growling softly, she turned back, inspecting the other three targets. Two of her opponents had done as well as she but the third had sent one arrow past the target completely, meaning instant elimination. Good. One less competitor to worry about.

Taking several deep breaths, she waited as the targets were moved back, then shot again. All three arrows landed in the red, as did her opponents. The targets were moved, the three shot again, and one more person was eliminated, this time for having an arrow fall short.

Lihleih inspected the last man in her group. Much taller and broader than her, his bow was constructed of a much higher quality of wood. His arrows were also fletched with better feathers, causing a ripple of nervousness to run through her. But when she looked at his face, she could see he was just as nervous as she was and wondered why.

Ignoring her, the man turned forward and faced the now-placed target. She saw him squint ever so slightly and smiled inwardly. Facing her own target, she focused on the red circle in the center.

The arrow flew, eliciting a roar from the crowd. A fraction of an inch off center, she smiled at the people behind her before nocking her next arrow. Letting it go, she watched it, feeling immensely proud of herself when it landed so close to its brother it almost touched. Glancing over at her opponent, she saw his face was drawn as his eyes narrowed even more. Letting his arrow fly, he groaned almost immediately. She didn't need to see it hit to know he had missed the circle completely. Letting her final arrow go, she didn't bother to watch it land, smiling at the crowd that erupted into cheers when it did. Seeking out the winner of the last round, she was gratified to see he was no longer smiling and instead watched her with respect.

Still smiling, she headed to the large barrel and splashed water on her face, being careful to keep it from soaking her shirt. She longed to tug at the bindings around her chest but dared not. It was bad enough that she could feel the sweat soaking through them. If she even touched them, she risked having them slip or come undone, causing not only her immediate elimination but her arrest as well. Females were not allowed to enter any of the competitions in the field. But she had never been good at what was considered the womanly arts. Rough sports were much more fun. And satisfying.

Taking a seat on the bench, she was surprised when the winner from the other group sat down next to her. She couldn't help but notice how good-looking he was and felt unsettled. His hat dipped over one eye, giving him a rakish appearance. Wavy brown hair tumbled over his shoulders and he needed a shave, adding to the charm. Several feathers, pheasant if she wasn't mistaken, were secured in the wide band of his hat with a gold pin inlaid with a green stone. He wore a soft leather jacket over a cream-colored tunic, the belt wound twice around his waist emphasizing his narrow build. A pair of high-quality trousers covered his long legs, currently stretched out in front, and were tucked into a pair of black knee-high boots with a wide fold on the top.