“Something with which you are all too familiar.”
A few subdued chortles came from the assembled men, which died quickly after a ferocious glare from Agedor.
“Why are you here, Warran? Isn't there some trifling matter of state you should be tending to? I know you're not here to issue a challenge, for I know dead men with more prowess with a bow than you.”
Great Arantha. Even his own brother. Does this man respect no one but himself?
Warran, however, remained taciturn. “The true question is: why are you here, brother? Besides to feed your own arrogance, that is.”
Agedor strode forward, standing practically chest-to-chest with Warran. Vaxi wondered if they were going to come to blows. “It's not arrogance if you truly are the best.”
“Let's find out.”
The younger prince erupted in a cruel laugh. “Oh, this should be good. You're actually going to challenge me? This should last all of a minute!”
Warran laughed as well, completely undaunted. “I offer a wager, brother: if you win, you may have my sword.”
For the first time, Agedor was taken aback. “Our grandfather's sword?”
“The very same.”
Vaxi watched as Warran drew his sword, the one she had handled only a few short minutes before, and held it up for his brother to see. The sun glinted off the blade, and it ripped the air as Warran swung it in a quick, graceful arc before re-sheathing it. “I know you've always wanted it. You practically frothed at the mouth when Father presented it to me instead of you.”
This statement seemed to cut the arrogant prince deeply. “Just because you're the better swordsman hardly qualifies you to wield such a blade.”
“Well, it's yours if you win. All you have to do is beat my archer.”
Agedor quirked an eyebrow. “Your archer?” He gave a dismissive wave. “Fine. Bring forth whatever miscreant you've found who thinks he can outshoot me, and I'll relieve you of your precious sword.”
Warran beckoned her forward. “Vaxi?”
As one, every man in the crowd turned their heads to stare at her.
In her young life, she'd faced down vicious, wild animals. She'd come close to being trampled to death by a charging kova before bringing the beast down. She remembered the thrill, the rush of adrenaline she had felt in those moments, and the fear that went along with putting her life on the line. But she'd never felt as terrified as she was in this moment.
She closed her eyes, shutting out the crowd's piercing gazes. I am Ixtrayu. I am a huntress. I faced six Vandan raiders and survived. I will not show fear now.
Vaxi took a deep breath and strode forward, unslinging her bow from around her body. The slightest of breezes had picked up, ruffling the folds of her skirt. She did not speak as she met Agedor's smarmy gaze, standing firm at Warran's side.
It didn't take long for Agedor to regain his composure. He pointed an accusing finger at Warran's face. “It's not surprising that you would leap on any opportunity to humiliate me, brother.” The menace in his voice was unmistakable. “But this …” he gestured at Vaxi, “is an insult to my honor. A woman? You seriously expect me to compete against a woman?”
Warran moved forward, interposing himself between Agedor and Vaxi. “If you want Grandfather's sword, yes.”
Agedor looked Vaxi up and down, contempt radiating from him. “How old are you, girl?”
Vaxi set her jaw. “I am eighteen, Your Highness.”
He turned his attention back to Warran. “And you think she can best me? Have you taken leave of your senses?”
Rather than answer Agedor's jibe, Warran said, “Is that fear I detect in your voice, brother?”
Agedor's face scrunched up in barely-controlled fury. “I fear nothing. But I will not indulge your puerile jest. Keep your damned sword, and return this slattern to whatever bedchamber you stole her from.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode back to the shooting line, the conversation over.
Vaxi let out a breath. “Your Highness, please, return me to my room. I do not wish to be a pawn in your brotherly feud.”
He swept his arm out, indicating the vast army that continued to train around her. “I'm sure you've noticed the distinct lack of women in this army.”
She nodded.
“All my life, I have waited for someone like you. Someone to fly in the face of tradition and learn a skill that only men have been taught for centuries. No matter what men like my brother say, Darad would not be half as strong without its women. My father still adheres to the old traditions, but I am convinced we can only become stronger if we allow our sisters, our daughters, to fight. After all, do they not have just as much to protect as our men do?”
Vaxi was shocked. Never had she expected to hear such words come from the mouth of a man, much less a royal prince. Her grandmother would probably have fainted.
All the moisture vanished from her mouth as she croaked, “But you just met me. You've never even seen me shoot. What makes you think I can beat him?”
He leaned in close to her. “Do you think you can beat him? If you say no, I will return you to your room, and we will speak no more of this.”
She considered doing just that, but something inside her, a voice in her head, wouldn't let her. Agedor was a bully and an egotist, who badly needed to be put in his place. She'd seen Sen take his tongue-lashing, and doubted that Mizar's apprentice was his only victim. Men did not become this arrogant without years of practice.
Could Warran be telling the truth? One day, he would be King. When that happened, perhaps this kingdom of men would allow women to fight alongside them. It would take much convincing to undo centuries of tradition, but she believed Warran might just be the leader to make it happen.
Arantha protect me.
“I can beat him.” The words seemed to come from someone else's mouth, but she felt steel coalesce in her gut. She hoped it shone through her eyes. The look of determination on Warran's face, including his familiar smirk, told her it did.
Warran strode up to his younger brother just as Agedor loosed another shot, which struck the target right next to his previous arrow. “The challenge is offered, brother,” he announced. “Name your stakes.”
The look of haughty contempt on Agedor's face had vanished, replaced by one of droll amusement. “You're not going to let this go, are you?”
Warran nocked an eyebrow at him. “We've been brothers how long?”
“Of all the ways to challenge me, this is how you choose to do it? You know I have not lost a contest of archery since I was sixteen.”
Warran set his mouth into a firm line. “My reasons are my own. Do you accept?”
Agedor turned to Vaxi, scanning her from head to toe once again. “A girl who dares to learn bowmanship. I don't know where you found her, brother, but I'm more than happy to teach her a woman's proper place in this kingdom.”
Warran didn't even flinch. “And what do you offer in return?”
Agedor proffered the bow in his hand. “This is the finest bow ever crafted. I had the finest bowyers in the land create it to my exact specifications. You will not find its equal in this lifetime. If she bests me—which will most assuredly not happen—it is yours.”
Warran nodded in satisfaction. “Done.”
The younger prince let out a short guffaw. “Grandfather's sword will look so much better hanging at my side. But the stinging bite of your failure, brother, will be a far more delectable prize.”
The crowd of soldiers had grown considerably in the last few minutes, but Vaxi tuned them all out as she stepped toward the shooting line.
A quiet, resolved calm swept over her body, and for the first time since leaving home, she felt Arantha's will flow through her. From the day Mizar and Sen saved her from the raiders, she'd wondered what her purpose was, in what direction her path lay. Perhaps this was it.
She was a strong woman from a tribe of strong women, and she would show as much today. Not to appease Warran. Not to tea
ch Agedor a lesson. To prove to all assembled what an Elystran woman can do.
“So how will this contest work, Your Highness?” she asked Agedor in a flat tone.
He pointed to the nearest of the three targets, which had been cleared of arrows. “Three shots each. Closest to the center wins. If we are unable to determine a victor, we move to the longer targets. Can you handle that, girl?” He gave her a disdainful sneer.
She nodded, unfazed by his contempt. “Who shall go first?”
He took a step back. “You may lead off. Then I'll show you what true archery is, instead of … whatever it is you think you've mastered.”
She didn't respond to his barb, but merely nodded again. At that moment, she regretted not having her bracer with her. Twilla had made her remove it during the fitting, and she doubted the material of her sleeve would hold up to repeated scrapes by a bowstring. She'd have to be careful.
She drew a sharp-looking arrow with a metallic tip from a nearby free-standing quiver, testing its weight in her hand. The shaft looked to be made from reesa wood, with a metal point attached to the end. Thankfully, the weight was comparable to the huxa-wood arrows she used back home, so she was certain she could adapt.
“I have never fired a metal-tipped arrow before,” she admitted. “Would Your Highness do me the courtesy of letting me have a practice shot?”
A superior smirk erupted on his face, as if he'd just learned he had a distinct advantage over her. “By all means,” he said, chortling into his hand, “but only one.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, and turned her attention back to the wooden target and the series of painted circles that marked it.
There were three things, in Vaxi's mind, that made her the best archer in the Ixtrayu: her exceptional eyesight, her concentration, and Runa's training. As she focused, the murmurs of the crowd, Agedor's taunts, and the rest of her self-doubts melted away. This was what she was born to do.
She loosed the arrow, which struck the outer part of the ring surrounding the center with an audible crack. The crowd let out a gasp of astonishment, no doubt impressed that a mere girl could come that close. But she would do better. She had to.
“Not bad,” Agedor cooed, “but if that's your best shot, you may as well concede defeat right now.”
Vaxi ignored the taunt, and drew another arrow from the quiver, placing it against the drawstring. The crowd fell silent again, and she drew the string back to her ear. She closed one eye, listening to the wind, which seemed to be blowing from right to left. The bow rock-steady in her hands, she adjusted her aim slightly and let the arrow fly.
It struck the target dead center. Before the crowd, Warran, or Agedor could even react, she drew a second arrow, nocked it and fired, striking the target an inch from the first. The third hit just above both of them but still in the center.
Vaxi let out a deep exhale, and the crowd did the same before it broke out in a round of applause, tentative at first but gaining enthusiasm by the second. She allowed herself a slight smile of pride. Were they applauding because no woman had ever shown such prowess before, or because she was trying to take the vain prince down a peg? Either way, it appeared they were on her side in this contest, which was perhaps the most unexpected bonus of all.
Warran was beaming with pride as well. Agedor's face, for the first time, was scrunched up in worry. “You have some skill, girl,” Agedor conceded with a sneer, “but I am not vanquished so easily.”
Vaxi bowed respectfully to Agedor, ceding her position at the shooting line to her opponent who, calm as could be, proceeded to hit the center with all three of his shots as well. A smattering of applause came from the assembled throng, but it paled in comparison to the support they had shown Vaxi. However, unlike before, Agedor seemed too preoccupied to glare the crowd into submission.
They then moved to the second target, which lay a full five paces farther away than the first. First Vaxi and then Agedor took their turns, firing their arrows with absolute precision, striking the center of the target. By the time this round ended, it seemed that every soldier on the training ground had become a spectator; hundreds of men, all of them eying her, in her green dress, like she'd swooped down from the Above. She wasn't sure whether they approved of her skill or her presence, but as long as they favored her over Agedor at the moment, that's all that mattered to her.
Before she could take her place at the shooting line again, Agedor stepped forcefully toward her. “Who are your parents, girl? How dare they allow this? Women are not permitted to fight or serve in the mighty Daradian army, I trust you know that. Why would they allow their daughter to indulge herself so blatantly in honing a skill she cannot possibly utilize?”
Vaxi had come too far to let this man bully her now. “My mother is dead. I never knew my father. I was raised by people who saw my potential and let me nurture it. I am fully aware I cannot fight in this 'mighty army' that you disparaged not long ago.” He bristled at her words. “But I can hunt. I can hunt better than any man, and neither you nor anyone else can tell me otherwise.”
His face reddened in anger. “You dare speak to me with such impudence? I could have you punished with but a word, a gesture. You could disappear, and no one would ever speak your name again.”
Warran gallantly strode forward and joined the fray, placing a hand on Agedor's arm. “Have a care, brother. She is a guest of the High Mage, and to threaten her is to invite Father's anger.”
“The High Mage?” Agedor scoffed. “Just who in the Fire Realms are you, girl?”
“I told you before, Your Highness. I am Vaxi.” Then, without another word, she turned her back on both men, stepped to the shooting line, drew an arrow from the quiver, nocked it and fired it. It flew through the air, striking the farthest target—a full thirty paces away—two inches from the center. The second struck dead center, and the third split the shaft of the second.
She turned to see Warran's jaw hanging open, an action mimicked by dozens of men in the crowd. She slung her bow back over her shoulders and stepped away with the slightest of bows to Agedor, and took her place at Warran's side to watch Agedor attempt to match her yet again.
The young prince looked thoroughly cowed as he stepped toward the shooting line.
Warran leaned over and whispered in Vaxi's ear, “Whatever happens, thank you. I am in your debt, and someday I promise to repay said debt.”
She nodded, determined not to let her knees knock as she felt the rush of adrenaline begin to ebb. “Your Highness,” was the only reply she could muster.
Just then, the crowd began chanting, low at first but growing in clamor. “Vaxi! Vaxi! Vaxi!” On and on it went, from one side of the range to the other until it threatened to deafen her. She felt the blood rush to her face. She would not show weakness now. She kept her expression stony and emotionless, but it was difficult.
“Silence!” Agedor bellowed. It took many long moments and a wave from Warran for the crowd to settle down to a volume where Agedor could finally take his shots.
Attempting to regain his concentration, Agedor let the first shot fly. It struck the outer edge of the center circle. The second one, however, missed the center, thudding into the outer edge of the first ring. The third shot, fired with a frustrated chuff, nearly missed the target entirely.
Agedor turned to face Vaxi, his mouth curled in the most vicious sneer she'd ever seen. Even her grandmother couldn't compete with this man for contemptuous looks. He closed the ground between them, his finger pointed directly at her. “You have made a grave error today, girl. I am not an enemy to be taken lightly. Just watch yourself, especially when my brother is not around to protect you.” He slammed his bow into Warran's chest before storming off, over the hill and away from the training grounds, in the direction of the castle.
The crowd still hadn't dispersed, so Warran addressed them. “Return to your training, men. Let what happened today never be forgotten.” A smile creased the corners of his handsome face.
Despite the knots now twisting in her gut, Vaxi couldn't help but share it.
Warran held out Agedor's bow to her. “This is yours if you want it. You've certainly earned it.”
She pressed her thumbs against the drawstring of her own bow. “If it's all the same to you, Your Highness, I'll stick with this one. It's a part of me as much as your sword is a part of you.”
He withdrew the bow with a nod and a smile. “Fair enough. I think it's time I returned you to the High Mage.”
“Agreed.” She cast a sidelong glance at him as they made their way back to the castle. “Do you really think women may be allowed to train and fight someday?” It was a bold question, she knew, but if this truly was Warran's ultimate goal, she had to know its chances of success.
He considered this. “Well, it certainly won't happen overnight …” He smirked again. “But as you've just ably proven, all things are possible. If it doesn't happen during my father's reign, I will most certainly see to it when the crown adorns my head.”
Vaxi beamed. “You are not like any man I've ever met.”
He puffed out his chest slightly, his grin spreading from ear to ear. “I don't suppose I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Company, halt!” bellowed Langon, and the sea of Elzorath quickly drew their merychs to a standstill.
They had reached the base of the northernmost peak of the Kaberian Mountains, which they had been skirting since that morning. A tall array of ridges now lay to their right, and behind it, a jagged range of mountains stretched south as far as the eye could see. To their left, hundreds more miles of desert vied for the men's attention, as if both terrains were locked in an epic battle as to which one was more inhospitable.
The Kaberian Mountain range, which effectively bisected the Praskian Desert like a long, jagged scar, was by far the largest range on Elystra, stretching all the way to the southern wetlands before curving to the east, according to the maps they'd seen back in Agrus. Food and water would be sparse, but Elzor had little doubt they could survive on their ample rations until they reached their destination.
Queens (The Wielders of Arantha Book 2) Page 18
