fact lost on Sasha, and though she knew that Kovos, like most of the town, feared her, she was grateful for him. He was nice to her, and if she was on her own and saw Kovos, he would talk to her and escort her wherever she was going. Barnin had been that way too. Both Kovos and Barnin, while flawed men, had incredible character.
“No problem. Thanks for killing and butchering that deer for me. It was great.” He looked at Sasha. “Hey Sash, how are you feeling today?”
“How… how did you know I had an episode?” she asked, amazed.
“Easy. Legon didn’t come by yesterday, and he would only miss out on a new cleaver if you weren’t well.”
“Oh. Thank you, Kovos. I’m feeling fine now.” As she said this she looked at Legon and smiled inwardly. She was so grateful to have him in her life, and she was sad to think about him leaving.
Kovos looked at the buckskin tubes that Legon was holding and frowned. “I don’t think dad will let me go shooting today…,” he paused, “Unless….” Kovos shot back into the shop and came out a minute later. “Great, I’ll get my bow. You talked me into it.”
* * * * *
Legon laughed. There was no talking Kovos into it, but rather talking his dad into letting him leave for a few hours. Legon wondered how he did it, but when Kovos rejoined them he knew how, and his heart sank a bit. Kovos brought with him a large boy with the same black hair, though matted, who was wearing a pair of blue pants and a stained green shirt. Keither.
Keither also had on a look of annoyance. The two brothers couldn’t have been more different. Kovos was short and stocky and Keither tall and rather large. Kovos was leading, or more like pulling, Keither from the house. It looked like someone trying to pull a dog away from chasing a deer or a small child from his favorite toy. When they came out Kovos had two bows; one was his combat bow and the other Keither’s hunting bow. Keither didn’t have a combat bow. His family wouldn’t let him get one until he could shoot his hunting bow with some degree of accuracy, which Keither had yet to do. The boy hated going outside and didn’t like to shoot, but it was important to learn, so whenever Kovos was having a hard time leaving the house he would tell his father or mother that he would bring Keither and try and work with him. Keither never wanted to go, but Kovos was much stronger so Keither didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Sasha attempted to greet Keither by waving at him, but the boy only returned her wave with a glare.
They walked down the alley and got back on the street they were on before. They continued on the street until they got to a large field at the edge of town. On one end of the field was a line of padded targets with little flags that marked distance. Red was for fifty yards, yellow for one hundred, green for one hundred and twenty five, purple for one hundred and fifty, and beyond that were black ones for two hundred yards. On the other side was a line of white flags that marked where to stand while shooting. They walked to the line of white flags. At the moment the four of them were the only ones there. Everyone except Keither strung their bow and prepared to begin. Kovos hit Keither in the arm and the boy began to string his bow.
“Let’s just fire a warm up volley and then we can move two of the targets further back,” said Kovos to the others. They nodded their agreement and all knocked an arrow, pulled back, took aim, and fired.
The air hissed with the sound of the flying arrows and strings twanged. The arrows flew down the field and hit the targets with a thump—all but Keither’s.
Sasha looked around. “Why didn’t you fire?”
“I did,” said Keither with a bit of irritation.
“You… oh I’m sor… sorry about that, Keither.” Sasha’s face turned red. She looked away from him and began to fidget with her bow.
Kovos broke in. “Well, where did it go, then?” he asked, looking hard down the field.
“How am I supposed to know?” Keither said.
“Um, I don’t know, maybe because you shot it?” Kovos said sarcastically, holding his arms out in