Movement II: March

    She stood against the target and raised her longbow, passed down from Haldad to her. He had given it to her with a sad smile and told her that he had used it as a youth before turning to the sword. Sighting down the arrow, she released and swore under her breath when it missed the center by two hands’ breadth—hands the size of Malron’s—to quiver in the hay.
    “No need to grow angry, my lady,” Malron said as he walked down the length of the empty practice hall towards her.
    Almost everyone else, except for a few of Malron’s friends, refused to use it now that a woman had defiled it with her presence, and Haleth endured mockery from the adults, and mean-spirited pranks from the younger ones, especially the boys. Just the other day, one of the boys had oiled the steps to her bower when she was running her laps to strengthen her legs, and everyone had looked the other way when she had tripped and fallen. Everyone also knew who it was, Kellan—who was actually around Haleth’s age, and so was not really a boy—whose father was the loudest in ridiculing Haleth.
    Kellan’s father, the widowed Cullan, had even advised her father to find her a husband, just as if she were a brood mare. It was clear that Cullan fancied himself as her husband and she had been about to unleash her whetted tongue on him. But Haldad had coldly informed Cullan that Haleth was his daughter, not Cullan’s, and that if Cullan desired to complain against his daughter within his hall, then he should leave.
    After Haldad’s open rebuke of Cullan, no one lodged complaints against her, but still found petty ways to make her life miserable. The warriors ignored her when she was in their presence, but mocked her in private. The women and elders frequently told her to her face that she was Valar-forsaken. The servants ignored her requests and refused to serve her food. After one of the boys had flung a mud ball into her face as she passed from the armsmaster’s hall to the kitchens, Malron, gray-blue eyes bright with sympathy but not pity, had invited her to stay in his hall and sleep there as well. But he did not offer to challenge her doubters; that was her decision and her responsibility to make her people believe in her. She had accepted, for he was kind and told wonderful stories while she rested.
    She dragged her attention back to him, for he was continuing on. “It was a good hit for all that you have not practiced for years. The last time you held a longbow was nigh near ten years ago.”
    “I remember that time,” she said wistfully. “It was our twelfth birthing-day—” Malron had noticed that sometimes, especially when recalling her memories, she referred to herself in the plural, “—and Haldar had received a new bow, while I was given dyes for my embroidery. Needless to say, I preferred to watch Haldar practice, and I begged and whined until he let me hold it just to silence me. Before he knew it, I had released the arrow and nearly hit you. You proceeded to give me lessons, saying that he could not risk me hitting another person. And then a few moons after that, father bade me stop weaponscraft and turn to more ladylike activities.” Her voice hardened at the last as she released another arrow, this one to miss the target entirely.
    “The fifth rule of battle—do not let anger get the better of you. Channel it elsewhere.”
    Haleth said nothing, but she visibly calmed as her breathing slowed and her arms relaxed. Again she drew the string, and the arrow thudded to the right of the center, missing only by the span of her hand.
    She snarled again, and Malron said, “Easy now. ‘Twas a good hit. You would have hit an orc.”
    “But not,” she said with a calm that she did not feel, “killed him.”
    “No,” he agreed. “But you would have injured him at least.”
    “Injuring is not good enough. Every arrow I waste is one less to kill another orc, and every orc that is killed is one less to kill my people.”
    My people. How quickly she had grown.
    “Aim again,” he advised, “but do not release until you have emptied your mind. There is only the bow and the target. You are but an extension of the bow, nothing more. I am not here. You are not here. There is only the bow and the target,” he said again.
    Haleth did so, clearing her mind of all thoughts. Then she released the arrow as it thudded into the palm-sized black circle.
    Again and again she hit, retrieving her arrows as they continued to slam into the center, and Malron nodded.
    “You’re ready for another target,” he said, then left the hall for a brief moments. When he returned, he was carrying a wooden target carved into the shape of an orc. He had painted in armor and weak spots, and instructed her to aim for the dismayingly small eye slots.
    “Practice against that, but do not aim for the chest. Aim for the joints at their neck armor but more especially for the eyes. Always aim for the eyes.”
 
    And so Haleth worked there for the rest of the week from sunrise to sunset, practicing into the night through the use of torches. Exhausted, she collapsed into her bed at night and then rose again, to practice her archery and her swordscraft. And then she began to grow used to her demanding schedule as she gained more endurance, and the last traces of her youthful innocence began to fade away to be replaced by a woman’s knowledge and the beginning blooms of wisdom.
    Malron gave her a dagger to match her sword after re-mastering the bow and taught her the bare basics of hand-to-hand and barehanded combat, teaching her every trick he knew, for if she were ever forced to use that knowledge, she would need it. However, he bluntly told her that she would never be able to fully master the dagger or barehanded in the few moons they had. The knife was, in fact, rather ugly and not as fine as her sword, but it would serve should she ever have to use it. He returned to the sword after he was satisfied that she knew how to use the knife without cutting herself and that she could deliver a fatal blow if forced to.
 
    The orcs attacked again at the end of her third week of training, and Haleth was hustled into armor and handed her longbow and a quiver of arrows. She gulped when she examined them; these were man-killing arrows, not the game arrows she had practiced with. Game arrows were designed to be removed easily; these were serrated so that they would hurt coming out.
    All of a sudden, she was struck with the thought that she was going to war to kill other thinking, living beings, and she understood what both Haldad and Haldar had said. Malron, however, had expressed confidence in her and she was determined to make her instructor proud, so she swallowed her revulsion and fear to follow the soldiers to her post. It was raining, and she blessed that, for it gave her an excuse to not reveal her face. Everyone else had their hoods up.
    No one mocked her now, either because they did not have the time or because they did not recognize her, for her long fair hair was hidden underneath the hood of her cloak. She was paired with a slim veteran, whose injured leg gave her the reason to why he was not fighting with Haldad.
    He proceeded to instruct her on how to shoot from the battlements, and at what angle to shoot so as to hit the orcs rather than the ground. A voice Haleth did not recognize called to the archers, instructing them to keep silent and still, and to not peep from the battlements and thus betray their position.
    She glanced around at her surroundings, careful to keep her face hidden from everyone else, and so missed her partner’s broad grin when he caught a glimpse of golden hair and blue eyes. He was examining his arrows for any flaws, and encouraged Haleth to do the same.
    She was about to start doing so when she noticed that everyone else were in groups of three and opened her mouth to ask her partner why when she heard pounding feet behind her. Turning around to see a disgruntled Haldar, she grimaced when his dripping cloak splashed her in the face and wiped the water away with the corner of her semi-dry cloak. A flash of guilt struck her; she had not bothered to visit her twin or her father for her last two weeks of training, preferring to spend her rare free time with Malron.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked rather ungraciously. “Father will have a fit.”
    “Father gave me permission to join the archers, Haldar.”
    “Women do not belong in battle,” he said under his breath before moving away.
    Haleth would have shouted something at him, but someone else touched her shoulder.
    “Haleth? Don’t be angry. He’s upset because Haldad won’t permit him to go out with the warriors, and forced him to remain behind to direct the archers.”
    “Malron! Why aren’t you with father? You’re a fine warrior—the best—in the keep.”
    “I must remain behind to survive and train the next generation,” he said without rancor, but with calm acceptance. “There must always be an armsmaster from my line to train the young ones. My brother and my cousin both fight, however.”
    “Ah,” she said, at a loss for words.
    “Gelvar?”
    The veteran beside her grinned at Malron’s voice, and then flicked off Malron’s hood to reveal his face, and then pulled down Haleth’s.
    Haleth smiled in relief; Gelvar was one of Malron’s good friends, and the armsmaster praised him. He had also been one of the few willing to practice with her, and had given her good advice. It was a relief to talk with him, because he was always less formal and more humorous than Malron. Both men were lean and wiry, but Malron was slightly taller, and where Malron’s face was often dour, Gelvar’s contained only the amiability and geniality of a friendly hound.
    “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Malron,” the slim man said and laughed when Malron grunted. “I’m honored to serve with the Lady Haleth.”
    “I will be completing this trio here,” Malron said with an irritated glance for Gelvar. “I need to give some of my students some encouragement, so I shall go and take a walk about the battlements. Excuse me, former students; they quit because I was teaching Haleth.”
    “You mean that you need to give them a nod of your pretty little head and then pat them on their heads to tell them that they’re being good little children,” Gelvar said. “And then shake your long white hair at them to prove that you are older.”
    Malron, whose black hair was cropped short to his head, ignored Gelvar with a ridiculous dignity that had Haleth fighting to hold in laughter. “This is their first time in battle as well, and I’d like to make the rounds.”
    “Put up your hood, Malron, it’s raining,” she said with a wicked grin as she pulled up her own. “Or didn’t you notice that your pretty little head is getting wet?”
    “Impudent child,” he muttered indignantly as he stomped away, careful to keep his rangy figure from sight of the orcs, and Gelvar winked at Haleth before returning to carefully examine his arrows. Haleth did the same as well, and then listened to Gelvar tell stories, for he was almost as good as Malron in storytelling. They waited for Malron and battle, often restlessly picking up an arrow and examining it as they spoke.
    For the third time, someone got Haleth’s attention, but he did so by giving her a rude shove that would have sent her sprawling if Gelvar had not shot out an arm to steady her. Haleth opened her mouth to give a stinging rebuke, but the stranger pushed off her hood again.
    “You belong in your bower or in some man’s keeping,” he said in his harsh voice, his eyes taking note of her breeches. “And you should wear skirts.”
    “Cullan,” she greeted coolly. “Both the Lord Haldad and armsmaster Malron gave leave for me to be numbered among the archers.”
    “You should have wed by now and produced children,” he said as he stepped closer. “But your father says that you refuse to take a suitor.”
    “Go away, Cullan.” She stood up to face the warrior, one hand lingering on her dagger. She refused to back off from his beer-sodden breath, for that would make her seem weak, but she did breathe through her mouth. “And if you think that you’d be my husband, you can think again.”
    “You’d make a fine wife for Kellan,” he said. “You’re strong, and you’d bear children easily. The Haladin need more children.”
    She slapped him as Gelvar also rose and stood silently at her shoulder, supporting her. “I am no brood mare to be bartered thus,” she snapped. “And I am not your daughter, and nor are you Lord of the Haladin, so I advise that you keep silence until you can prove to be both.”
    “Haleth?” Malron hurried towards them, and then slowed as he saw them standing there. Gelvar beckoned him closer, and the two men stood as silent as Haleth’s shadow and as close.
    “I am not for sale, Cullan,” she said, enunciating every word with an icy clarity that made Malron shiver. “I suggest you get to your post before the Lord Haldar inspects the archers.”
    They stared at each other for long moments before Cullan gave a jerky nod of his head and departed, seemingly compliant. But Haleth knew that she would have to contend with him at least one more time.
    Gelvar said, “Well done, my lady. That one won’t be bothering you again—”
    She shook her head. “No. I will have to fight him at least once, though whether with words or with swords I do not know.”
    “Aye,” Malron said. “But it will be an evil day should you ever be forced to battle with him… an evil day when the people of Haldad—” the people of Haleth, he corrected to himself silently, “—turn against each other.”
    Haleth decided to change the subject, so she asked, “Why are we in groups of three?”
    “We have put every graybeard and boy in armor and sent them out as archers, whether they have been trained or not,” Malron said, his expression grave. “This is the largest attack yet, and we have pulled off everyone save for the most skilled marksmen, the injured, and the untrained. These remain as the archers, and even children of six or seven fight, slinging stones. All they need to know is how to draw a bow or fling a stone, whether they can hit what they aim at or not; at least they will hit someone, for the orcs swarm like maggots.”
    “And the women?” Haleth pressed, hoping that someone else would follow her example.
    “They cower behind walls for the most part,” he said, and her face fell. “The Lady Bríani said that the women of the hold knew their place properly, unlike some she could name. However, some of the braver ones, especially those with family amongst the soldiers, carry bandages and water.”
    “At least they do that much,” she said, and gazed at the wall as if she could see what lay beyond—where the orcs waited. “Where are the orcs?”
    “They do not attack yet, and seek to attack in surprise. We had warning only through scouts.”
    “Ah.”
    The three were silent. Malron went through his arrows for flaws, and then repeated the same process for Haleth and Gelvar, though they had already examined theirs. Gelvar waited, his body relaxed, but his brown eyes darted everywhere. Haleth fidgeted, trying to get comfortable in her unaccustomed armor until Haldar, who had come to examine the archers, hissed at her to be still. They waited for at least an hour, and the entire keep was silent, waiting for the attack that would come.
    The morning quiet was broken when they heard the guttural cries of orcs, and the same unknown person softly ordered all the archers to ready their arrows but not yet fire. Malron and Gelvar selected an arrow, and then nudged Haleth to do the same when she heard the orcs begin to clash their shields and swords together. She blushed to have not obeyed the order, and hurriedly grabbed an arrow from her quiver and placed it upon her bowstring.
    The din outside continued, and Haleth was tempted to place her hands over her ears. But Malron was not doing so, and so she did not. After a moment, she realized that if she had covered her ears, she would not be able to hear her orders.
    “Prepare to fire,” the captain commanded, the noise outside serving to cover his voice. “When I give the command, one man from each group will take a swift glance outside to see where the orcs are. He will then instruct his partners on where to aim, and when I give the command, fire. Do not glance outside or let yourself be seen. Fire blind; it does not matter which orc you hit as long as you hit someone. Aim for the largest concentration of orcs.”
    “I’ll do it,” Malron said. “I have more experience at gauging a shot.”
    Gelvar simply nodded, and when the orcs’ chant swelled once more, the captain gave the order to look outside. Malron dropped down again a moment later, and passed on instructions to Gelvar and Haleth.
    “Fire!” the captain called, and there was a hail of arrows as they swept over the battlements into the orcs. The orcs stopped their chanting as their comrades dropped dead about them, and someone roared.
    “Huddle against the wall!” The orcs returned fire to clatter harmlessly upon the stone walls, and Haleth marked where the arrows came from. “Fire once more!”
    This pattern continued for about an hour until the demoralized orcs, unable to hit their unseen tormentors, fled. Haldad led a sortie against them but retreated when they had driven them away, pulling back to the keep as the orcs heedlessly ran through the rain. The archers shot once more, this time using the orcs’ own arrows, and the last volley hurried them along even more.
    Even as the others exulted in the easy victory, Haleth knew that it was not yet over.
    Malron, it appeared, knew as well. As everyone else clattered down for a wash and hot food, he beckoned at her to remain behind.
    “In less than two weeks,” he said quietly as the last few archers straggled past them and gave them only a cursory glance, “the orcs will lay siege. Do not spread word of this about; only your father and I know, and now you.”
    “I knew that before you told me,” she said. “Well, not that they would besiege us but that this was not yet over.”
    “You are wise, my lady, to know what others do not.” He smiled with mischief and offered her his arm. “Would you care to come downstairs with me?”
She raced past him, shouting over her shoulder, “Last one down gets to fetch all the food!”
    Malron grinned and ran as well.

Contents  Previous  Next
top