“My partner may be ugly, but he’s funny,” Vinetia said. “And he’s good with his bow! He’ll shoot us through the next round easily.” Together they all walked back to their post where they ate a late lunch in the commissary hall.
“I’d like to go find a couple of better arrows,” Kestrel told Vinetia as they pushed away from the table after their meal.
“Lucretia, I’ve got to go run an errand. Will you take Kestrel to the armory so he can restock his quiver?” his partner asked another elf guard.
Lucretia looked at Kestrel coolly. “Of course,” she agreed. “Let’s go this way,” she spoke and began to walk out the rear door of the hall, leaving Kestrel to catch up.
Kestrel remembered that Cheryl had warned him not to look at the girls of Center Trunk. Lucretia was undoubtedly exactly the type of girl Cheryl had warned him not to look at, he was sure. He snuck glances at her as they began their journey, evaluating her, trying to guess whether she was the steady mate of some fortunate elf.
They walked without speaking until they reached the armory, where Lucretia, a slender, classically beautiful woman, suddenly spoke to Kestrel at last. “Are you good with a sword?” she nodded towards the rack of blades on one side of the practice room.
“I had a little training, not much. Just the same as everyone else, I guess,” Kestrel answered.
“It’s a human weapon; I just thought you might be naturally good,” she said. “The arrows are in there,” Lucretia pointed to an adjacent hall, where Kestrel went and found a large assortment of shafts. He carefully selected a half dozen more, and was trying to decide whether to add one more when the blue sprite suddenly appeared in front of him, standing on a bench so that she was nearly looking at him eye-to-eye.
“Dewberry!” Kestrel felt his voice rise an octave in excitement. “What are you doing here?”
“Did those arrows help?” the sprite asked.
Kestrel took a deep breath, trying to overcome the shock of the sprite’s arrival. “They helped a lot. I won the competition thanks to having them.
“Why did you give them to me?” he asked.
“I’ve been watching you,” the sprite’s attractive face showed a faint sign of embarrassment. “My fiance said that I hadn’t been gracious in how I treated you, considering you saved my life, healed me, and took care of me without ever taking advantage of me in any way.
“And,” she spoke slowly, “I decided he was right. So I decided to watch you, to see if I could do something to help you, as an apology.”
Kestrel thought back to their last exchange, when Dewberry had been so combative and unpleasant. “Thank you Dewberry,” he decided not to upset her by agreeing that she had been disagreeable. Her procurement of the arrows apparently amounted to a peace offering, and he was appreciative that it had been such a practical gesture.
With her elevated height on the bench, he could closely study the perfect features of her face, and marvel again at how beautiful she was. “You’re engaged to be married? And you said last time your father is the king of sprites? Will you be the queen someday?”
“No, my older sister will be. I’m going to marry a prince of the water imps. It will be a great alliance for our peoples, and he is a good mate for me — he says I’m beautiful!” she gave a little self-conscious laugh.
“You are beautiful,” Kestrel said enthusiastically.
“Kestrel!” a voice called loudly from the doorway. Both he and Dewberry turned to see Lucretia staring at them.
“I have to go. I still owe you the three favors I promised,” she said, and then vanished.
“You do have sprites!” Lucretia shouted excitedly. “I saw one with you! You are their master! By Morph and Tamson and Kere! That’s incredible! I’ve never seen a sprite before!”
“Sshhh,” Kestrel held his hands out in front of him, waving them rapidly back and forth. “Lucretia, it’s not like that at all. She was just being friendly. I am not the master of any sprites!” he spoke loudly, hoping to alleviate any harm Lucretia’s comment might have caused if Dewberry had overheard and felt sensitive.
“I saw what I saw,” she said as they came together.
“There’s an explanation for this,” Kestrel said.
“Well make it speedy, because we need to get back to the next round of competition,” Lucretia replied. They began to walk out of the armory. And so Kestrel began to tell his story, as Lucretia listened, fully absorbed, neither of them paying any attention to anything around them until they found themselves at the competition fields once again, though the story was only halfway finished.
“There’s the squad,” Lucretia pointed as they arrived at the linden tree.
“Don’t tell anyone about this Lucretia, please,” Kestrel begged. “I have enough trouble fitting in with these human features; if people start calling me a sprite-friend I’ll never be treated fair.”
“If you promise to go to dinner with me and finish the story tonight,” I’ll keep your secret,” Lucretia agreed.
“Where have you two been and what are you so buddy-buddy about?” Vinetia asked suspiciously. “I specifically sent Lucretia with you because I knew she’d be too cool to be your pal,” a statement that drew a stare of disbelief from Lucretia.
“Now, get to your competition; your flight starts in five minutes over under the red and yellow flag,” she directed Kestrel.
“Where are you going to compete?” he asked in return.
“I’ll be over there, under the blue flag,” she replied. “I start a half hour after you. Come see me after you win your competition.”
“I will,” Kestrel promised, as he started to walk away. He bumped through a cluster of people, then turned and saw Vinetia and Lucretia with their heads together, conversing intently.
A few minutes later he arrived at his competition field, wondering what had passed between Lucretia and Vinetia, and also thinking of Cheryl, strangely enough, comparing her features to Lucretia’s.
“Take your marks, competitors,” the proctor for his match called. Kestrel stepped up to the line and looked to both sides. There appeared to be about twenty marksmen arranged to compete. “This is a twelve arrow competition, and the top three will move on to tonight’s qualifying round,” the proctor announced. Kestrel heard him clearly; this group of competitors was serious about their archery, not inclined to chatter or socialize.
“Commence!” the proctor called, and a drum sounded loudly. The competition was on.
Kestrel took an arrow and faced his target. The targets were at a greater distance than they had been in the morning, which would play to his strength, he knew. The arrow he held was one of the two that Dewberry had given him, and he aimed it carefully before he released it. His human strength propelled his arrow on a flat, true trajectory the full length of the field to an easy mark in the right half of the center portion of his target.
He adjusted his next shot slightly left, then released the arrow, which flew a true line as well, scoring another center shot. Thereafter it was just a matter of mechanical repetition, as he selected arrows, drew his string, and fired. He shot twelve good arrows that all scored in the center except one that strayed slightly low. After his shooting finished, he broke his focus, and looked to his left and his right, noting the targets of the other shooters; none were finished yet, as they labored to make the long shots that were more challenging for them, and none had less than two arrows outside the center.
Kestrel felt a modest smile crease his face, as he finally achieved an easy round of competition. He stood patiently and waited until the rest of the competitors were determined and the three winners announced. He asked a proctor for instruction on when his next match would be, then walked over to the blue flag competition where he saw Vinetia shooting competitively, but scoring just behind the top three archers in her field while she had three arrows left. Kestrel waited patiently as Vinetia took her time lining up her final three shots, which were good, but not high-scoring enough to raise her to the next stage of competition. She stood with her head bowed, leaning on her bow for a long pause after her last shot, then turned and saw Kestrel standing behind her.