“If that day should come,” she said, “I will need many advisors. There will be few that I would trust as well as you. Not to mention, I like your company.”
Steffen smiled; it was the first time she had ever seen him smile. It made her sad; she could see the little boy behind his eyes, the one who had once wanted to be loved, but had been nothing but rejected. This might be, she realized, the first time in his life he had ever been accepted, the first time he had ever been picked for anything.
“My lady,” he said humbly, a tear in his eyes, “nothing would do me so great an honor.”
He suddenly stepped forward, reached down and picked up her bow.
“If I am to be your advisor,” he said, “if I may be so bold, perhaps I could start now, with a lesson on the bow and arrow.”
He smiled, pointing at her distant target.
“Forgive me, my lady, but I cannot help but notice your aim could use some correcting, if you don’t mind my saying.”
Gwen smiled back, happily surprised; she was wary that someone in his shape could teach her, but she decided to go along with it and humor him. He was a quirky man.
“I’m glad that you did notice,” she said. “Because it needs much correcting. Is archery a skill of yours?”
He grinned as he lifted an arrow, and weighed it in his palm. She had never seen anyone handle an arrow like that before.
“I have few skills in this world, my lady,” he said, “but archery is one of them. You would think that I would not—yet something about the hunch of my back has actually made it easy for me to shoot. It always has. My few friends used to joke that I was born in the shape of the bow. But sometimes I think, it is a good thing.”
Steffen suddenly placed the arrow in the bow, pulled the back string, then let it go, all while looking at Gwen and smiling.
A second later, there was the sound of the arrow hitting the target, and Gwen looked over, breathless, to see that he had hit a perfect bull’s-eye.
She gasped. She could not understand how he had done it: he had been looking at her while he fired. She had never seen anything like that in her life—not even from the royal archer.
“Can you teach me to do that?” she asked, in awe.
“Aye,” he said, reaching out and handing her the bow.
She took it and placed an arrow in it, excited for the first time.
“Draw it, let me see your form,” he said.
She pulled back the string, her hand shaking.
“Your elbow must be higher. And you must pull your fingers closer to your chin. Your chin should be lowered, your eyes are wavering. Choose one eye. Don’t overthink it. And don’t hold it so long—your hands will shake.”
Gwen let the arrow fly, and again the arrow grazed the target, although this time a bit closer to the center.
“There’s a strong wind today,” he said. “You must take that into account. Also, the ground you stand on is sloped. Both of those must be adjusted for. Finally, this bow you hoist is too heavy for you. That must be taken into account, too. To adjust, aim a little higher, and more to your right. And bend your knees just a little: they are locked. That will allow you to breathe. Breathe deep, and let it go as you reach the peak of your breath.”
Gwen did everything he instructed, and as she let this arrow fly, it felt different this time. She felt more in control.
There was the sound of the arrow striking the target, and she cried out in delight to see that she had hit a near perfect bull’s-eye.
Steffen smiled wide, too, and clapped his hands.
“My, you are a fast learner!” he said.
“You are a good teacher,” she answered, beaming, proud of herself.
Suddenly, beside them, Krohn started snarling. The hair stood up on his entire body, and he turned, watching the empty horizon, snarling.
“Krohn, what is it?” she asked.
Krohn continued to snarl and Steffen and Gwen exchanged a glance, wondering. Gwen started to become anxious about Krohn’s behavior. She had never seen him like this. Was he seeing something?
Suddenly there came a great rumbling, like thunder, and on the horizon, there appeared about a dozen horses, ridden by