Bows and Arrows

Malik had been wrong about the messengers. They came through Minnow’s Creek. They also traveled much faster than the five partied crew. Sallie and Callie were not fast walkers. Any man on a traveling horse would pass them five times over. 

The first village pointed toward a wanted poster that had crude sketches of their faces on it. Malik had a hard time figuring out if he was more offended by getting kicked from the village, or that they gave him a nose the size of a fist. On his way out, Malik pulled every poster he could find off posts, doors, windows, and any other items. 

Mollie forgot her tears from a few nights before on the visit to the second village. She brawled with two deputy officials as they tried to drag the three of them to jail. Mollie refrained from killing any, but they would remember that the three had been through their town for some time to come. 

In the third village, Abrie tried to negotiate some supplies to keep them going, but the merchants had orders from the town’s mayor not to accept a single coin from the outlaws. 

The funny thing about the kingdom of King Bently was that they would travel five more towns and they would become someone different. If they traveled far enough, they would be pirates. Even further, the criminals would be a royal escort from a faraway kingdom. The farther they moved from Minnow’s Creek, the less they would be recognized and the more supplies they could get.  

The only problem with that logic was that they would starve long before then. Unless they found something to remedy it.

“So, you can hunt then?” Malik asked Abrie one evening while they lounged around a small cook fire. 

Abrie looked up over his reading material. Abrie read books about as much as he preached morals. 

“What?” 

Malik pointed to the lyre case. He had been working on his own bow for six days. It was shaped, clasped, and Abrie even shown him how to string it. He had yet to test it out. 

“You have the bow. You say you used it to hunt these monsters. Could you hunt food with it too?” 

Abrie shrugged. “I suppose I could.” 

“No town will serve us, but we can serve ourselves. It will also give me time to practice with this thing.” Malik hefted his bow. 

Malik grew restless in the camp. He liked Mollie most of the time. The rest of the time she trained with Abrie, leaving him to fend for himself. They ignored him, talking about sword fundamentals. They worked on stances for so long, Malik dreamed about them every night. 

Abrie looked to be deep in thought about the suggestion. Malik gave him a few minutes, hoping he would agree. 

“I don’t see a problem with this.” 

Malik tried not to jump up from his seat in joy. He would learn how to shoot this thing. 

“So, we will go first thing in the morning then?” 

He itched to get started. 

“Mollie, would you be okay with the mules for the rest of the night?” 

Mollie looked up from cleaning her sword’s blade. She did not talk to anyone much since the night at Minnow’s Creek. 

“I will manage if I need to.” 

Abrie closed his book, placing it back into his satchel. 

“Grab your arrows,” Abrie said to Malik. “Mollie we will return sometime late.” 

Malik was not sure what Abrie had in mind. He was almost positive people did not hunt during the night. 

“Aren’t we supposed to wait until it is daylight out?” 

“We can find prey now.” 

“I can’t see a thing. We are more likely to become prey.” 

Abrie investigated the darkness. 

“I believe you have more than just the bow to learn, Malik.” 

Abrie walked across the clearing, grabbing his lyre case. He undid the clasps, pulling out his bow. Then he reached a second time, pulling out a quiver full of arrows. 

“Bring the arrows you have made.” 

Malik looked down at the few arrows he had. Abrie had showed him the night of Minnow’s Creek how to craft an arrow. Malik’s first five attempts were nothing more than crude sticks. Even after, his arrows were not the greatest, but they would have to do him for now. He picked up the quiver Abrie had given him. 

He was the one who had wanted to go hunting. He could not complain about it now. 

“Well, where are we off to then?” 

“We will travel up into those trees.” Abrie pointed. 

Malik guessed Abrie remembered the trees from the walk into the camp. It was that, or Abrie could see a lot better than Malik could in the dark. Whatever the case, Abrie moved before Malik could protest. 

 “Have you been sneaking arrows since I have known you?” Malik asked Abrie as they walked. 

Abrie was not quick to answer. He was never quick to answer. 

“I mean, I have never caught you carving a single arrow. When did you find the time?” 

Abrie was still silent. He tried to keep his secrets close to his chest. 

“I mean, did you craft them while going to relieve yourself?” Malik laughed. 

“You know Malik, you sure have a way with words.” 

Malik supposed he could have been more graceful, but what was the fun in that? 

“I am simply curious. I have been with you for several years. You find me on the path away from my village. Teach me to be a bard. Never answer my questions about anything of your past. Then I find out you are an expert marksman. It is all so overwhelming.”

Abrie stopped. Malik had not seen him stop, but he knew because he ran headlong into him. 

“We will hunt here,” Abrie said, avoiding the prior conversation. 

Malik hated how good Abrie was about avoiding things. 

“But…” Malik started. He had every intention to protest. He would get an answer out of Abrie. 

“Hunting is about staying quiet.” 

Malik let the next few words die on his lips. If he would not get any answers, he may as well get some practice with the bow and a decent meal for the morning. His belly growled at the prospect of warm meat. 

Abrie pulled on Malik’s shoulder. He said nothing, but Malik followed, trying to stay quiet. 

When Abrie stopped, he placed his hand on Malik’s chest. 

“Remember how I told you to visualize the target?” 

Malik answered by shaking his head, before realizing it was pitch-black around them. “Yes,” he said. 

Abrie took in a deep breath through his nose. Malik could hear something just ahead. 

“Sometimes, you cannot see your target with your eyes. However, you have other senses to bring the target into place.” 

The sound got closer and closer to them. Malik wondered if it were something that could see them a lot better than they could see it. Abrie did not seem to be nervous. 

“What is that noise?” Malik was too jumpy to stay calm. He envisioned the monster that had attacked Mollie. 

“It is tomorrow’s breakfast if you can hit it.” 

Malik tensed. “You are leaving the shooting up to me?” 

“You said you wanted to practice.”

Malik shifted, trying to hear the creature better. “I also said I wanted to eat breakfast tomorrow.” 

“Then don’t miss.” 

Malik remembered the wise words of Abrie on the first day of shooting. He had told Malik he would miss a hundred times before even coming close to the target. Yet here he tried to have him shoot a moving target in the dark. 

“You told me I would miss a hundred times.” 

“So, you will.” 

Malik sighed. “Then what is the point of me trying to shoot it.” 

He heard Abrie shift. “Practice.” 

“I don’t want to practice as much as I want to have a hot meal.” 

Abrie let out a soft chuckle. “Then, like I said, don’t miss.” 

Malik felt Abrie’s hand lift from his chest. 

“I want you to focus. See the target, draw, and shoot.” 

Malik closed his eyes. They were useless. He could see nothing. Even the stars and moon hid behind the clouds. Here in the trees he would have been lucky to see his hand waving in front of his face. 

There was no way he could hit a target out here. Especially not a moving target, but still he had to try. If not, he wasted an opportunity to shoot the bow. Even if he missed, and he would, he would at least have a successful shot under his belt. The last time he held a bow, the string had snapped before the arrow even left. This time he would get the arrow into the air, even if it missed the target it would be an improvement. 

Malik lifted his bow, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. Whatever moved was remarkably close. Malik let the breath out of his nose. Abrie had told him that a part of shooting was to become calm, void of any other thoughts, and still. Any movement could throw off the trajectory of the arrow, making the shot miss. 

Malik pulled an arrow from his quiver. He only had six arrows. He planned to make each of them count. He knew this first arrow would go into the dark forever. He pulled it up to the string. Drew in another breath, feeling his heart slow. He thought of nothing but the bow and arrow. He let the breath out again through his nose. Then he visualized the animal. It rummaged through the leaves, looking for food. The creature was small, he could tell by the soft footfalls. It was not the nine-foot monster. Maybe a rabbit or a fox. He pulled on the arrow string. It stiffened beneath his fingers. He would have to pull harder to get it to budge. 

Malik extended his shoulder back, pulling hard with his fingers. He could feel the tension building. He continued to pull. All the while, he held the image of the creature in his head. He imagined it head down, foraging for something in the leaves. He let one final breath escape through his nose. The shot was the best he could get. He felt his knuckles brush his cheek. Then he let go of the arrow. He felt the string snap forward. He had at least not injured himself. 

The arrow moved off the string with a zing. He listened for the sound of the arrow hitting a tree or skittering off into the leaves. What was only a few seconds stretched like a lifetime. Then Malik heard the scream of a small animal, followed by the laugh of Abrie. 

“You are the best bowman ever, or the luckiest person to ever walk.” 

Malik tried to understand what had happened. He had heard the scream of the small animal. Had he hit it? Was there any way that he had hit an animal in the pitch-black dark? 

“Well, we better find breakfast.” 

Malik did not move, frozen in shock and happy the arrow had gotten off the string. Now he wrestled with the prospect that he had hit something. 

“I thought you said I would miss?” 

Abrie laughed again. “Guess this just goes to show that no one is right all the time.”

Malik took in a deep breath. He had succeeded at shooting. The first thing he wanted to do was find the animal. The next thing he wanted to do was to run back to camp, throwing the animal at Mollie’s feet. He could show her he was not useless.

“How do we find it?” 

“We search until we stumble over it.” 

Malik thought that sounded like a horrible plan, but he could not think of a better one. He wished they would have brought a flint with them. A fire would have been helpful in seeing where the animal had fallen. 

Malik followed the sound of Abrie’s steps. He could not see where head, but he trusted that Abrie would not lead them into danger. 

Abrie stopped. Malik could hear him pushing around on the ground. 

“I think I have found it.” 

Malik waited a moment longer, and Abrie stood. 

“Here is your arrow.” Abrie handed Malik the arrow fletching first. Malik wiped it off on the ground, shoving it back into his quiver. 

Abrie handed him another item. “There is your prize.” 

Malik could not see what he held, but he could tell one thing about it. There would be little of it to pass around. 

“I am not sure if that is a good or bad thing,” Abrie said. “On one hand, you hit a tiny target in the dark. On the other hand, we will eat hard cheese and bread tomorrow.” 

Malik felt a little less inclined to show Mollie his prize. He moved to throw it down onto the ground, but Abrie stopped him. “at least you can have some warm meat. Keep it.” 

Malik sighed. Abrie was right. Mollie could make fun of him. He would eat meat while she shoved stale bread into her mouth. That was something to look forward to. 

“Should we continue hunting?” Malik asked. Maybe they could still get something worth sharing. 

“I don’t believe that we would find anything else. We have made a lot of noise and I don’t want to travel too far from camp.” 

Malik wished Abrie would have answered differently, but he followed without complaint.