14th of Eleasis: Story Thread

 14th of Eleasis: A Day of Rest Before Going to the Shadowfells

Chapter 1:  Early Morning, Atalaya

Atalaya slowly returned to consciousness and shook off the last vestiges of her trance.  The softly glowing pre-dawn light making its way through the torn window curtains made the room seem as if it was bathed in sunlight as Atalaya oriented herself.  Needing to stretch and move a bit, she carefully worked at extricating herself from Vaz’s grasp, then sighing, decided that it might be a losing battle today.  Each time she freed herself from an arm and started to move away, reached for her again and pulled her tight to him, never ceasing his slow even breathing as he remained deeply asleep.  

Giving in to the inevitable, she cuddled up to his chest and let her mind contemplate the things that he had told her last night.  She had expected and fervently hoped that he would have gotten more training with his gifts.  And, an increased adult understanding of the Gurs’ history and maybe even some news of surviving members of his tribe had been possibilities that Atalaya had wished he would receive.  But for him to be adopted into their tribe?  No, that she hadn’t even contemplated.  Twisting around within his embrace so that she faced him, her hand snaked its way free of his embrace and gently brushed his hair off his face.  He seems so at peace with himself right now.  It's as if a piece of his soul has been returned to him.  I knew that the loss of his tribe was traumatic for him, but I thought that with the building of his new family with Seraphina, Sorrow and Joan and then later with us had provided him with healing.  Well, I guess it did some, but obviously I did not understand how deeply he needed to be with other Gur.  

She shuddered slightly as a new thought crept into her mind.  How many are there in this Scarlet Sash tribe?  Four people make a family, not a tribe.  Even if these people accept Cirilli and me, what about the others?  How do we reconcile the call of the road and tribe within him and my longing to be home under the shelter of the High Forest and my own family.  Well I guess I can understand a little better his stated apprehensions about my father.  I need to get to know these people much better in the little bit of time we will have here.  

This is much too much thinking.  I need to move.  I love you Vaz, but you are going to have to let go of me now.  Atalaya again worked her way free of his embrace and this time, risking a bit of jostling to make her escape.  Noting his questing arm, she moved her pillow into his reach and watched as he pulled it towards him.  He eventually calmed while Atalaya quickly dressed herself for the day.  After checking to see that both he and Cirilli were sleeping soundly, she made her way out of the room. 

The sun was rising higher and the sky had turned a multitude of yellows, oranges and occasional flecks of pink.  The few clouds floating in the sky adding texture to the colors in the sunrise.  While she longed to make her way deeply into the forest in search of some peace and a chance to hear Mielikki’s whisperings, instead she searched out the tallest tree within the boundaries of the manor and swiftly made her way up as far as she could.  Then nestling herself within the tree’s branches she allowed herself to sink into a deep meditation.  

**********

Nevil quickly clothed herself.  Even in the summer mornings it was always intolerably chilly to leave Inman in a warm bed.  She looked over at him one more time as she slipped a small satchel crosswise over her head.  Inman lay on his side, still soundly asleep, his face warm but expressionless, and his chest only subtly rising.  His arm still slipped under her pillow begging for her return.

Eldeth forgive me, but I miss the days of sleeping in sometimes. 

Nevil slipped out of the room and quietly walked down stairs.  Only one of the Chauntean priestesses was awake and appeared to be selecting modest garments for the day.  The rest of her company still slept on their bedrolls. The priestess gave a smile with a nod of recognition and inquiry.  Nevil pressed her palms together and pretended to bow her head as she finished the last step of the stairs and headed out the mud room and outside.

Next to the side door of the house, was situated a dilapidated miniature garden.  Its presence was easy to overlook with the fence and side of the house overgrown with vines, the path of stones half buried and choked with ankle high weeds. 

Nevil walked a few steps, closed her eyes, and just listened to the morning chirps of birds and last peeps of frogs as the sun rose.  No doubt Atalaya is already out and about this morning.  Such peaceful morning delights are rare now.

With a deep sigh, Nevil opened her eyes to see a short fallen stone pedestal, covered with lichens and peaking through the weeds.  

Maybe a sculpture or the basin of a small reflection pool was here before...

Searching the ground near its base, she lifted the sagging vine choked branch of a fruit tree to reveal an overturned stone bowl. Its surface, marbled and polished, stuck out against the colors and textures of the garden.  She smiled.

Then Nevil heard the door close.  She looked up to find the solitary priestess, humbly dressed in unbleached linen pants and a tunic bound by a simple rope. The woman spoke first as she spied Nevil's find under the still raised branch, "Ah we were wondering what it held. We were hoping to spend some time restoring this little garden today. Given what may be tonight, a small patch of worked earth would do wonders for the soul."

Nevil lowered the branch and turned to address the woman, "Ah, I can see where Chauntea would approve, but did you..."

The woman nodded as she walked to an untamed thorny bush.  She fingered a small rose bud reverently. "Yes, we asked Madrina last night.  Nothing radical, just a kind hand to tend to what is already here.  Such duties bring us closer to the Earth Mother."

Nevil nodded slowly, "I was hoping to find a quiet spot for morning prayers to the Still Mother."

The priestesses looked with curiosity, "A warrior who follows Eldeth?"

Nevil nodded again, "Yes, one bound in service."

"Quite unusual," the woman said as she studied Nevil. "I imagine that can be challenging."

Nevil chuckled, "it isn't always, but lately yes. I was hoping to find a spring or something along the way for purification rituals, but the one stream we found was... unsuitable."

The priestesses nodded with warm understanding, "We could right the basin you found? And fill it with well water?  You are also welcome to join us for evening prayer."

"Now that would do nicely." Nevil lightened and the two worked to flip and then roll the shallow stone basin into the sun.

Chapter 2:  Breakfast Preparations

Atalaya made her way back towards the house planning to get started on breakfast.  As she neared the manor the soft sounds of the Chauntean priestesses' conversation as they moved around what was certainly an overgrown garden caught her attention.  Nevil was pouring water from a bucket, apparently soaking the ground near the middle of the garden.  Catching Nevil’s eye, she waved as she continued into the house.  

In the kitchen she found Madrina and Vinique already at work.  Flour dusted the surface of the table where Vinique was rolling out dough, a biscuit cutter sitting nearby.  The spicy smell of cooking sausage filled the room and Atalaya watched as Madrina deftly stirred the crumbled sausage.  A bowl sat beside the stove partially filled with previously cooked sausage.  Atalaya spotted a bowl of eggs and a wedge of cheese and a grater waiting for Madrina’s attention.  Another bowl was filled with fresh berries.  Atalaya’s eyes were drawn to the plump berries and she smiled in anticipation of their tart sweetness.

Stopping in the doorway Atalaya drew a steadying breath before announcing herself.  “Good morning.  I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you prepare breakfast.”  

Madrina and Vinique looked up at the sound of her voice, smiles wreathing their faces.  “Welcome.  Would you like some tea?” Madrina asked as she reached for a teacup and poured the fragrant liquid into the cup and held it out to her.

Atalaya entered the kitchen and approached the older woman.  “That would be wonderful,” she said as she reached for the cup.  She detected the smell of seeped blackberry leaves and lemongrass.”

“Do you add sweetener? We have honey.”  Madrina reached into the cupboard again and brought down a small container.  She placed it on the countertop near the stove.  “Please, help yourself.”

Atalaya shook her head.  “No, thank you.  This is delicious.”   Atalaya took a moment to enjoy the tea.  After several sips, she put the cup down, away from the waiting food.  “What can I do to help?  Were you planning to grating that cheese?  I could do that.”

 The Gur looked at each other and at Madrina’s almost imperceptible nod, Vinique dusted the flour off her hands using the apron that was tied around her waist.  She gestured Atalaya towards the table and handed her the grater.  Stooping down, she found another bowl and handed it to Atalaya.  “There is water for washing your hands in the other room.”  Vinique indicated the doorway into the dining room.  

“Right.”  Atalaya answered.  She made her way into the ruined dining room and quickly cleaned her hands.  Drying them on the towel lying next to the bowl she returned to the kitchen.  Cutting off a chunk of the cheese Atalaya began grating it as she set about getting to know Madrina and Vinique.

********

Nevil knelt by the reflection bowl, casting to purify the water, her face softened as the ripples in the water dissipated.  

The priestesses paused before turning toward the door. "I'll send the others around through the other door until you're done."

“Thank you.” Nevil offered as the priestesses closed the door.

Nevil set her satchel aside as she withdrew her prayer cloth and bowl.  She found a comfortable place to kneel on the earth by the pool.  Then she dipped her carved bowl into the water and sat it aside on a paving stone.  

Draping her prayer cloth over her shoulders, she paused.  The dark color of the reflection bowl indeed began to reflect the strips of fine, warmly hued clouds above.  With the dark speckled pattern below, the surface was reminiscent of a stream. Pleased, Nevil sat for several minutes just appreciating the beauty of the day.  

Every day is a gift.  As is every life.

Nevil wrapped one end of her prayer cloth around her hand, then picked up her wooden bowl and raised it above her head.  Focusing on the pool she prayed silently, reciting affirmations of faith. She set the bowl before her, then meditated to find stillness.

Slowly the world faded and she found herself surrounded by an endless pool.  As Nevil inwardly spoke her truth to the Still Mother, each word cast outwardly like a ripple.

Great mother of life, we recovered the eye and the path seems clear for now.  We offered a righteous path to the wayward and sought peace and the protection of life above all.  Mother may this service bring honor to your name. Please cast your favor to the servants of your sisters.  They have been most helpful.  

After several quiet moments Nevil continued. 

Cover me with your peace my lady, for fear grows within me. That death's hand may be greedy. Or that this path may require me to choose duty over family, again. 

A warmth draped over Nevil and ripples came across the pool again, but in reverse.  The words washed over her. "seek the beauty of life in every moment together..."   

Then, Nevil felt an odd warmth on her hand as the words faded.  As her awareness returned, she felt a presence.  Inman sat beside her, his hand holding hers, and he stared at the reflection pool waiting for her.  Nevil moved to look at him and a cloak, his cloak, slipped off her shoulder.  She looked confused.  

What is he...?  Is this his cloak?

Inman explained with a sheepish grin.  "You looked cold."

Nevil briefly chuckled,  "What are you...? I mean, you have never been a religious man.  Did you come to pray?" 

Inman looked guilty, but with the softest eyes.  "Well, no... but after what you said... It's where I wanted to be."  He let go of her hand with concern, "Did I bother you?"

Nevil smiled, but she wasn't sure how to answer.  Thinking back over her meditations, "I think I got through what was needed."

Inman nodded, studying her carefully, waiting for her.

Nevil reached for the wooden bowl to continue the last of her ritual.  Holding it before her, "Peace within us brings peace around us."  Taking a sip from the bowl, then dipping her finger in the water to anoint her brow.  

She was about to set the bowl down, but she paused to ask Inman, "You're here, it would be rude of me not to ask if you wished to partake."

Inman laughed at first, but seemed to consider, "Only if you think it's necessary."

Nevil thought about what master Tyrn would say, "It's only as necessary as the significance you place on the meaning of the moment."

"Then, yes." He responded holding out a hand.  Nevil passed the wooden bowl to Inman.  She watched as he took a sip, his eyes never once parting from hers. She dipped her fingers and slowly drew a thumb across his forehead, her hands lingering on his cheek. 

Inman took her hand, kissed her palm, and whispered, "thank you, my love."

They giggled to each other before Nevil added, “we should probably join the others for breakfast.”

************

Atalaya placed her camping coffee pot on the stovetop eager for her first cup.  The sausage egg and cheese casserole was baking in the oven after Vinique had removed the biscuits.  A pot of grits bubbled on the stove with a bowl of crumbled bacon and sausage pieces waiting to be added once the grits were cooked.  Another bowl of grated cheese was ready to for those who wished to add cheese to any of the prepared foods.  Gravy simmered in another pot. 

Madrina looked around the kitchen, her pleasure with the breakfast preparation easy to read in her face.  “A good breaking of our night’s fast we will have.”  Pointing at one of the cupboards she added, “Atalaya, there should be butter and jam for those who do not want gravy in that cupboard.  Please bring them here.  And then you can go and make sure your friends are ready to eat.  The casserole will be ready soon.  I think we will leave the food in her and let everyone serve their own plates.  We can eat in the parlour as we have been doing.”

Atalaya placed the butter and jam on the table, now flour free.  The biscuits sat in a covered bowl.  The fruit sat nearby with a pitcher of cream nearby.  Dishes and silverware waited at one end of the table and coffee mugs and teacups sat on the counter near the stove.  Atalaya nodded at the other women.  “I’ll check on the others now and get them headed in this direction.”

Her glance into the parlor yielded an empty room.  Climbing the stairs towards the study she quickened her pace as she heard Vasilya and Cirilli talking quietly with each other.  “Do that again,” begged Cirilli as Atalaya entered the room.  Then the girl’s laughter could be heard.  

“What’s so funny?” questioned Atalaya as she entered the study.  Both Vasilya and Cirilli turned with slightly guilty expressions on their faces.  

“Boz can make my hair blow away from my face.  And he doesn’t touch it when he does it.  Isn’t that neat?  It kind of tickles though.”  Cirilli sprang up and grabbed Atalaya’s hand, pulling her over towards the fire and Boz.  “You need to let him show you,” she added as she started pushing Atalaya into a sitting position on the floor next to Boz.  Then she looked at Atalaya’s hair.  “Oh, you’ve already braided it.”  Her hand reached for the leather tie at the end of Atalaya’s braid.  “It needs to be loose, so the wind can blow it,” she proclaimed as she untied the lacing holding the braid together.  Her fingers swiftly pulled through Atalaya’s hair, loosening the strands.  “Okay Boz, show her,” she demanded.  “Remember, you said that you needed to practice this,” she added and she undid another braid.

Vasilya met Atalaya’s eyes over the top of Cirilli’s head.  His eyes were filled with laughter at Cirilii’s eagerness for him to show off his new skill and Atalaya’s bemusement at Cirilli’s swift undoing of her braids.  Atalaya watched as he centered himself and focused on her hair.  And then she felt the steadily increasing breeze on her check and the hair started to flutter and then move aside.  The soft tickle of its movement across her cheek and the delight in Cirilli’s eyes brought out a soft chuckle from Atalaya.  “That’s a good trick, isn’t it?” she asked Cirilli.

Cirilli nodded as she tucked the hair ties into her pocket and then reached for the final hair tie, swifty removing it.  

“Is there some reason you are stealing my hair ties, Cirilli?  If you have lost yours, you only need to ask me for more.”

Cirilli’s face flushed a bright pink.  “Ah, no… I have my own ties.  My hair really isn’t long enough yet…. It’s just …” She looked at Boz as she struggled to find her words.  “Vinique said something about the Gur wearing their hair down until they married and then they cover it with their scarves.  I thought that… well … we are here with them … and… well… uhm…” Cirilli looks quickly back and forth between Atalaya and Boz, turning an even brighter shade of pink, if possible.  “I just thought… I thought that Boz might like it if you wore your hair down… at least until we… I mean all of you head into the Shadowfells.”

Atalaya just stared at Cirilli for a long moment, before searching for Vaz’s eyes as she tried not to let any of the mirth she felt show on her face.  “So you are hiding my hair ties because you think Vaz will like me better with my hair down?”

“Well maybe… I mean sort of but maybe the others … if Vinique and Madrina expect…”  Cirilli looked like she wanted to hide away, but instead she took a deep breath and said, “I thought maybe that if you did the same as they did they would like you more and then … and then they won’t try to keep Boz with them when it’s time for us to go,” she explained, rushing to get to then end of her thoughts before she ran out of breath.  

Atalaya reached out and pulled Cirilli into an embrace, her chin resting on the top of Cirilli’s head.  Her eyes pleaded with Vaz to help her sort this out.  Letting out a sigh as she frantically searched for the words she needed, she shifted slightly away from Vasilya and pulled gently on Cirilli’s hand to guide her to sit between them.  

“I think you need to tell me what it was that Vinique said that made you think I need to wear my hair unbraided here.  What were the two of you talking about?  What exactly did she say?”

Cirilli looked between the two adults and then stared into the fireplace, watching the flames as they danced and the wood crackled.  “The other night, before we returned to Blue Haven…”  She paused as she gathered her thoughts.  Atalaya nodded and squeezed her hand gently.

“Go on.  That was night we partied to celebrate the end of the werewolves and the relief that the Scarlet Sash members felt about that. You were talking to Vinique?”

“Yes.  She was going to teach me some of the women’s dances.  She said that I needed a skirt to do the dance right and took me upstairs and found one of hers that she let me use.  I asked her if I needed a scarf like she was wearing.  She said I didn’t, that young unmarried girls wore their hair down, so I didn’t need one.   

“I’m sorry Cirilli, but I don’t understand.  What does that have to do with my hair and with the Sash keeping Vaz here when we leave?” Atalaya asked.  “You know that married or not, I am not a young girl, right?”

Cirilli nodded.  “I guess so.”

Atalaya used a finger under Cirilli’s chin to tilt her head so that she could meet Cirilli’s eyes.  “So that is not really the concern, is it?”  Running through everything that Cirilli had been attempting to say earlier, she started again.  “Are you worried about Vaz leaving us and staying with these people?”

In a very soft hesitant voice Cirilli tried to explain, “Macterah and Tif and Grenda just left us one night.  They didn’t say anything.  They are just gone.  I don’t want Boz to leave us.”

“Well, you are right.  Mac and Tif just left and we don’t know why.  But after learning about Seraphina I am guessing that their leaving had something to do with her.  Maybe she had an urgent mission she needed them for.  She sent us Nevil and Inman, right?  Why would you think that Vaz would not come with us?”

“Well he didn’t come with us to meet Captain Hawk, did he?” she countered.

“No, he didn’t come with us.  But he did talk to us about it.  And he talked to me about it.  We had a plan and we both knew that this was just going to be for a couple of days.  We are all here together again.”  Atalaya shifted her gaze from Cirilli to Vaz.  “Neither I nor Vaz are going to walk away from you.  You are my ward, my responsibility until you are of age and ready to take care of yourself.  And you are my Daughter of my Heart , and as such you are my daughter for the rest of our lives.  I am not going to leave you.”

“But what if Boz does?”  A single tear leaked from her eye.  “What if Boz decides to stay here when we leave again?”

“Chavi, I am not going to leave either you or Atalaya.  I just needed the chance to learn more about my people and this seemed to be the perfect opportunity to do so.  I was a bit worried about the recovery of our missing object, but I knew that Atalaya with the help of Nevil, Inman and Sorrow would be able to pull that off safely.  I’m so sorry about the trip back to Blue Haven.  I thought we had found all the problem areas already.  I didn’t know that there would be that kind of trouble on the trail.”  Vasilya looked distressed.  “If I had known, I would have been there with you.”  Vasilya’s hand cupped Cirilli’s head and pulled her towards his shoulder.  “I’m not leaving.  Atalaya and I have talked about this.  The destruction of her Master’s Bane is our first priority.  She will not put this task down, and therefore neither will I.”

Vasilya paused to get his thoughts together.  Atalaya squeezed Cirilli’s hand again and waited until she had her attention.  “We may not be able to make any concrete plans for what happens after that item is destroyed yet.  But when the time comes to think of such things, we will plan them together.  We will find a way to make our lives together.  There are always solutions when one looks for them.  Alright?”

Cirilli nodded.  “Okay.”

“Good.  And on that note, I think breakfast is going to be more than ready.  That’s what I came up here to tell everyone.  Why don’t you head down and I’ll look for the others.”

“I can do that,” proclaimed Cirilli, jumping to her feet.  “I’ll do that right now.”  She headed towards the hallway to knock on doors.”

Allowing Vasilya to assist her to stand, Atalaya asked, “What brought that on?”  

Vasilay just shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know.  But, under all her layers of anger and hurt I am beginning to see a very vulnerable child.  I’m guessing that we will see more of her uncertainty the more she trusts you and addresses the barriers she has been using to keep the world at bay.”  Searching Atalaya’s face as he ushered the two of them down the stairs he added, “It’s a good thing, I think.”

Nevil and Inman came back inside and were immediately hit with a savory smell which drew them toward the kitchen.  There were already several people sitting in the parlor enjoying Madrina's casserole.  Whispers came from the kitchen and Sorrow’s tail swished past the edge of the door leading to the room.  Vinique passed them with a bowl and found a seat opposite the temple guards.

Nevil turned the corner, passing Sorrow and Madrina, and made her way to the table.  Inman followed close behind and made a straight line for the coffee pot.  Neither paid much attention until the whispers continued. Then looking up, while licking the gravy that missed the bowl off her finger, Nevil caught Madrina blatantly flirting with Sorrow.  She looked over to Inman, who apparently noticed as well and was glaring at Nevil with a knowing smile.  

Sorrow walked toward the sink leaning back upon the counter near Madrina. "And if I win?"

Madrina didn't hesitate, "then you can pick.  But you can't win."

Sorrow doubled down, "I agree and we shall see."

Madrina lowered her voice and with a sultry tone, she neared Sorrow. "toacă doi căței de usturoi."

Sorrow got very still with focus.  Then giving a mischievous grin to Madrina.  "This is a fun game. One more time but stare into my eyes."

Unphased, Madrina stepped closer, leaning her head to one side, exposing her neck, and slowly repeated, "toacă doi căței de usturoi."

Sorrow’s tail swished as he contemplated, staring at her intensely with a commanding presence. Then he confidently added.  "Yes, that one is a pick-up line. You have used it before too."

Rennic entered the kitchen, interrupting the pair as he slipped several dirty bowls past Sorrow and into the water.  He teased Madrina, "Giving away our family secrets again? This one is clearly not a Gur." 

She smiled coyly. "No, but he did just volunteer for dishes."

Sorrow looked shocked. "What! really! No, Rennic, what is toaca doy caty de usturoe?”

Rennic laughed, "I don't know what that is, but she said "chop two cloves of garlic."

Madrina handed Sorrow a rag.  He scoffed and began to roll up his sleeves.  Looking determined and quite taken, "our next game will not be to your favor."

Nevil and Inman scooted past and into the parlor, finding a seat near the priestesses.

****************

As Atalaya made her way down the stairs beside Vasilya, she finished braiding her hair into a single braid.  Stopping at the foot of the stairs to search through her pouch for a spare hair tie she eventually found it and quickly tied off the end of the braid.  Greeting those already seated in the parlor she allowed Vasilya to guide her into the kitchen.  Finding a mug she filled it with coffee and then poured cream and sugar into it.  Vasilya flinched as he watched her add the sweetener and then filled his own mug with black coffee. 

After several sips of coffee Atalaya took in Sorrow's position at the sink.  Steam was rising around him each time he reached for a dish or utensil from the soapy water.  From his hand that was holding the wash rag a continuous hissing sound like drops of water falling on a hot frying pan was heard.  Atalaya watched as he finished wiping a mixing spoon and held it at the very tip as he dunked it into the rinse water, carefully keeping his fingers away from the liquid, before he placed it on a towel to dry.

“What are you doing Sorrow?” asked Atalaya as she tried to hold back a giggle, but failed.  

   He narrowed his eyes slyly, and stirred the water with his fingertips. Steam curled in pale tendrils around his wrists. "Smoking," he purred.

Atalaya laughed.  “Have fun then,” she replied.  After yet another swallow of coffee she began fixing herself a plate of the breakfast foods she had helped prepare.  Vasilya, his own plate heaping with egg casserole biscuits and gray and several strips of bacon guided them both back to the parlor.  

Finding a spot to sit near the priestesses, Atalaya leaned back against the edge of the sofa and balanced her plate on her knee.  She watched as Cirilli bounced down the stairs tugging Taspar in her wake.  “I didn’t find anyone else upstairs,” she called while continuing on to the kitchen.  Taspar threw a baffled glance at the group as he allowed himself to be towed into the kitchen.  

“Nevil, she is going to need some constructive exercise today.  I was thinking today might be a good day to get in a bit of archery practice.  Much safer on land than at sea.  Maybe a quick warm up, a few katas and then switch to archery?”

Nevil spoke between bites. "Nope, I release her to your teachings.  She may practice forms if she wishes, but opportunities to practice ranger skills, archery included, are few and far between these days.  

Inman spoke up.  "Though before we get too distracted, we should scout the perimeter at some distance to check our backside before we enter the Shadowfell."

Renic added. "We can scan from the skies and make circles a few times today."

Nevil added, looking to Atalaya, "taking the short trek to the abandoned werewolf camp may be an interesting exercise in tracking and scouting.”

Nevil grinned, I was going to practice with Shep a bit.  I haven't done mounted combat in a while.”

“That I would like to see.”  Atalaya thought about the suggested activities as she watched Cirilli talking with Taspar and Rennic.  “How about Cirilli’s day consisting of some warm up exercises, then a scouting trip to the werewolf camp and back.  Some kata work to re-limber her core and upper extremities and then some shooting at targets?”  If our hosts and perhaps Inman and the guards do a more thorough reconnaissance around the immediate area that should set our minds at ease as much as possible for this night’s work.”  

Feeling Vasilya’s eyes on her from where he was sitting next to Madrina, Atalaya met his gaze and smiled at him.  “What are your plans for today, Iubet?”  

Vasilya made his way over to Atalaya and Nevil, seating himself in front of them and reaching for Atalaya’s coffee cup.  She swiftly grabbed it up, shaking her finger at him.  “There’s more in the kitchen love.  No stealing mine.”  Hearing his sigh she rolled her eyes and took a large swallow of the cooling beverage.  “Your plans?” she prompted.

“I’m told that my plans revolve around some more lessons with Madrina and possibly Vinique after she flies a circuit around the area.  What’s up?”

Atalaya looked at Nevil and then answered him.  “We have been discussing Cirilli’s day.  I’d like her to get some tracking and archer practice today.  I was just wondering if you would like to join us on the archery field later.”

Vasilya bit his lip as he looked over his shoulder at Madrina and then returned his focus to Atalaya.  “Yes.  I would.  I find myself using my bow far more often these days.  You are instructing?”

Atalaya nodded.

“When were you thinking of doing that?  

Atalaya took a quick look out the window before saying, “Later this morning or early afternoon.  After we have made a scouting trip to the werewolf camp and after a few katas.”

“I think that will work well.  I’ll be ready to rest my mind by then.  Some physical work will be welcome.”  Vasilya looked at Atalaya and Nevil’s empty plates.  “Are you done with those?”  At Atalaya’s nod he gathered hers up and looked pointedly at Nevil.

A half-smile on her face, Madrina got up, put her plate into the sink, and exited. 

Sorrow finished off his coffee, watching the empty doorway. He picked up his fork and put it back down distractedly. He abruptly pushed his chair back and got up, hastily dumping his plate beside Madrina's at the sink, and followed her exit. 

Nevil smiled as she handed her plate to Vaz.  "Yes, thank you."  Then turning to speak through the crowded parlor to Cirilli, who was still pestering Taspar. "Well young one, go get ready, we have a morning planned already and much to do."  Cirilli's attention snapped like a spring and she ran over before Nevil continued. You are in the service of Atalaya this morning young ranger.  An opportunity to walk the wood should not be passed.  And maybe you'll get lucky and find a doe offering itself for our dinner.  Prepare accordingly."

Cirilli ran, leaping every other step up the stairs.

Inman asked, placing his hand respectfully on Nevil’s thigh.  "What will you do as we are all away?"

Nevil looked over to the priestesses, who were gathering the remainder of their sleep roles and items and preparing for labor.  "I am going to spend a little time with my sisters in faith.  They have a little project and I'd like to finish some preparations before tonight."  Nevil looked to the rest.  "Don't worry you're not missing anything exciting.  I'll save that until you get back.”

  

Atalaya watched Cirilli run up the steps to get ready for her tracking lesson.  Picking up her mug, she followed Vasilya into the kitchen looking for a final cup of coffee.  Seeing a single piece of bacon left on the serving platter she snatched it up before Vaz could reach for it.  Looking quickly around the room to be sure that they were alone she tore the strip in half and holding one piece up she whispered, “Mangeja li te ha, do you want to eat some of this?  What toll will you pay for this?” Her eyes crinkled at her soft laughter as she remembered the first time he requested a toll from her for bacon pieces.

Vasilya edged Atalaya away from the doorway, his hand caressing her cheek, “What is your price?” he asked as he stole a quick kiss.  Pouting he added, “One is not enough? How about two?” as he kissed her again, lingering a bit and nibbling on her lip.

Atalaya, clearly enjoying his toll, laughed as she handed him his half of the bacon strip.  “Have fun this morning with the Gur. I’ll see you when Cirilli and I get back from the wolf camp.”  Atalaya headed upstairs to gather her own supplies.    

*******************

Atalaya was talking to Rennic as Cirilli ran back down the stairs.  “I’m ready Atalaya,” she called as she entered the parlor.  Atalaya nodded in agreement to Rennic and turned to face Cirilli.

I want to fill my waterskin and then we can go.  Atalaya led Cirilli into the kitchen and they used the water barrel to refill both their waterskins before heading into the woods. 

Chapter 3:  Morning Activities

As Atalaya led Cirilli across the manor’s yard, she explained the task for the morning.  “We are going to work together to find the first sign of the werewolves' approach that still exists once we are out of the yard.  Once that has been located, then you are going to follow it back to its source.   I want you to show me the signs that you find that you are using to inform your decisions.  Once we find the source, you need to try to determine from the signs left how many werewolves used that space.  This is not a speed test or race.  Take your time.  Look for the signs of others passing through the space.  Nor do we have to be silent today.  I’m confident that we have dealt with this threat, but Rennic is going to overfly the area and scout it for me.  He will let us know if any actual danger exists.  Today’s lesson is supposed to be about tracking, not fighting.  

Cirilli nodded excitedly while Atalaya talked.  Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she began searching for any remaining signs of the werewolves passage.  

***************************

Nevil crossed paths with Cirilli as she went upstairs to exchange a few items from her pack.  The teen jumped the last step as she bounded behind Atalaya.  Nevil was still smiling when she entered the bedroom. Nevil packed her prayer items and lifted her pack to her shoulder, turning to go back down stairs.  Inman unexpectedly blocked her path as he leaned against the doorway with a playful smirk.  "I need you... for just a few minutes."  Nevil looked confused as Inman gently picked up her free hand and continued looking deeply into her eyes, "It's been a while, and I need the touch of a woman..." 

Nevil started to leaned a little closer but then Inman placed a cold hard object in her hand, a small pair of shears. Seeing Nevil's disappointment, Inman laughed.  "Madrina had a pair."  He ran his hand through his hair.  "And I'm getting shaggy."

Nevil handed the shears back to Inman as the look of desire changed to amusement.  "Well, I think I can fit you into my schedule.  I was about to groom Shep.  What is one more?"  

Inman scoffed and then he ran his fingers through his beard. "Well, let me tame this beast first. Then you can have your way with the rest."  Nevil paused considering the possibilities, fingering his bangs.  "There is a sunny spot by the little courtyard. We'll keep the hair outside."  Inman smiled and straightened himself, squeezing intentionally close to her passing through the doorway. "Thank you."  Noticing Nevil's held breath, the way her lips parted, he chuckled. "Are you going to survive the heat of this game?"  

Nevil huffed as she turned to leave, "We shall see.”

*********************

Cirilli worked her way through the forest, following the trail of one of the werewolves.  Her eyes bright with excitement as she found the next wolf footprint and then the broken twigs of a bush the target had brushed against.  She pointed them out to Atalaya.  “He went through here.  See?” 

 Atalaya nodded.  “That’s right.  What else do you see here?”

Cirilli looked around the last area of the last footprint, frowning slightly.  Finally she saw it, a bit of fur caught in the bush’s branches.  

“Good.  Anything else?” Atalaya questioned.

Cirilli looked around the area again and shook her head.  “I don’t see anything else,”  she admitted.  “Is there more?”

Atalaya nodded.  “You seem to be looking just for wolf tracks.  What other forms do the werewolves take?”

Understanding dawned in Cirilli’s eyes as they searched the surrounding area again.  “I don’t see anything…” she stuttered to a stop, her eyes growing wide.  Pointing slightly off the line of prints she had been following she asked with a slight waver in her voice, “What is that?”

Atalaya’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of the glowing footprint.  

The stable behind the house was overgrown but serviceable.  The small corral, thick with grasses, was too small for so many horses.  Nevil sighed as she went to each mare, running hands over each, talking gently and looking for problems.  Finding none, she loosened the makeshift leather strap over the fence post, lifted the gate, and pushed it to the side. She spoke to Shep.  "Don't let them stray, you hear?"  None of the mares moved but watched the large warhorse carefully.  Nevil laughed and rubbed Shep's thick neck.  "You already have them following, I see. Well, maybe we can give them a show later today.  Some old guard drills perhaps?"  Shep's ears perked and if ever a horse could smile, that is what it would have been.  

Shep turned to look, not at Nevil but past her toward the house.  He sighed and trotted commandingly into the yard.  He bent to nibble grass but watched his mares follow.  Nevil passed through the gate, steps behind the last mare.  

Inman approached.  Shirtless, his hair wet, dripping, with a towel around his neck.  The sun's low hold in the sky cast warm highlights over the ridges of his trim form. 

Eldath save me.  He is going to make this hard.

Nevil grinned but lightly scolded, "Did you walk through the house like that? Shameless?"

Playing the fool, Inman came nearer, "It didn't seem to bother anyone."  He moved the towel to finger his ear, trying to sell being aloof, but Inman’s constant eye contact betrayed him. "Though one priestess muttered something about Chauntean Midsummer as I passed through."

With a surprised look, Nevil passed a finger across his back and side as she passed, "Indeed, you are shameless."  Inman caught her finger with a smile and allowed her to lead him across the yard.  Nevil prepared a quiet spot earlier, a splitting stump squarely in the warm sun.  She sat him upon it and bent to wash her hands in a bucket to remove stable leavings. 

Inman's eyes and idle hands begged him to touch her as she kneeled by his feet.  He watched every move intently as she rose before him, standing close, then running her fingers deeply through the long hair on his neck.  "and what shall I do with you?"

******************

Atalaya placed her hand on Cirilli’s shoulder as she guided her over to the glowing footprint.  “What do you see here, Cirilli?  Look closely.”
Cirilli, steadied by Atalaya’s hand on her shoulder, stepped gingerly forward and examined the print and the area around it.  “It looks like a barefoot human print,” she finally said.  “A little larger than usual.  It’s headed towards the manor as the wolf prints have been.”   She widened her search around the new print.  “I can’t really tell how fast that person was going.  I don’t see any other tracks.”  Moving back to the original track Cirilli began reaching her hand out as if to touch the glowing outline, but stopped before actually reaching it.  “It doesn’t feel hot.  Why is it glowing Atalaya?” 

“How much have you read about Gwaeron Windstrom in the book I gave you?”

“I’ve read a little bit, but then I got the book in Blue Haven and well… I”ve been reading that.”

Atalaya squatted down next to Cirilli and the glowing print.  “Gwaeron is The Master Tracker.  He is the example held up to all rangers as that which we are attempting to become.  He fought Malar and his avatars as a champion of Mielikki and for his service and prowess she bestowed on him the position of a demigod in her service.  But he was first and foremost a ranger just like we are.  He has become a teacher of the ways of tracking to young rangers first learning their skills.”  Atalaya looked at the glowing print again.  “I think that this is a sign of his approval of your choice to become a ranger and his interest in assisting with your training.”

Cirilli’s face grew steadily paler as Atalaya spoke.  “But… but … I don’t worship him,” she finally whispered.

“Gwaeron doesn’t want your worship.  He isn’t a god.  He will take your petitions and requests to Mielikki if you ask that of him, but he was a human man, not a god.  We try to emulate Gwaeron as a master ranger and master tracker.  We do not worship him.”  Atalaya turned Cirilli’s face upwards so that Cirilli would meet her eyes.  “Gwaeron accepts you as a one worthy of becoming a ranger.  This is an honor.”  In a cajoling voice she added, “Just think what a story you are going to have to tell the others.  And to tell your grandfather the next time we see him.”

“Now, you need to look for the next signs of the pack's movement.”

Cirilli looked over the forest floor, moving carefully so that she didn’t disturb any remaining signs of the pack’s movement.  A faint glow drew her attention.  Approaching it she saw another outlined track, another humanoid print.  As she searched around it, the signs of broken branches where it crashed through a berry bush were easily seen.  Her eyes wide, she gestured to Atalaya to come see the trail signs. 

***************************  

Inman looked up to see Nevil patiently searching his eyes with an obviously coy expression.    Inman drew a slow breath.

Gods you are terrible. Today is going to be fun.

Nevil eyed Inman's hands as he raised them to her sides. To her disappointment, he did not touch her. Inman only gestured to explain. "Well, you have me completely... at a disadvantage my love...  I have no mirror to check your work.  I will just have to give you all control."

Nevil laughed as she rolled her eyes and stepped back to pick up the shears.  "I almost forgot how good you are at this game. Before this goes too far... same rules as before?" 

Inman laughed, "Yep, first to kiss loses and marks for subtlety." Nevil nodded as she wiped the shears. "... least we make our friends gag."  

For a moment they both remembered the best moments of games past.  Then with a deep tone, Inman broke the silence, "but make no mistake, I will have you at the end."  

Stepping behind him, Nevil flushed.  But head ever in the game, Nevil wasn't phased as she nonchalantly combed through his hair to assess where to begin.   "Don’t be silly dear.  You have me now.  Besides, there are pieces of you i need… to cut off."

Inman roared in laughter, drawing the attention of the priestesses beginning to sort the mess of a garden of the little courtyard. "Well played!"  He fingered the ends of long hair of his sideburns. "You're right, business before pleasure. Anyway, after a trim, my charms will be even harder to resist."  Nodding behind him to agree, Nevil began to sort the mess before her.

Vasilya, bag in hand, approached the Chauntean clerics as they worked in the garden.  Boz could already see the space beginning to take on a more ordered appearance.  The overgrown roses had been cut back.  Weeds were being pulled and the ground worked.  Piles of bulbs rested on a large cloth sheet.  Boz couldn’t determine what the different piles indicated, but the priestesses seemed to have some sort of criteria for where they placed the bulbs, some with leaves and some without.  After speaking to the clerics briefly they placed some items into his bag.  Laughter but not their words could be heard by Nevil and Inman.

Boz, swinging the small filled cloth bag as he walked, headed towards the couple talking in a sunny area near the woodpiles.  Taking in the shears in Nevil’s hand and the towel around Inman’s shoulders he hurried his steps.  “Taking in the sun, Inman? Boz drawled as he observed the two.  

Inman almost turned his head to look as Nevil was eyeing the level of the cut. Nevil tapped his back with her free hand and scolded.  "You stay still or there will be a lot more of your hair on the ground."

Inman froze, unable to properly address his friend. "Well, we can't all be naturally sun kissed as yourself. 

“So, Madrina has me out collecting items for my next lesson, and I’m to ask for some hair, since you seem to be discarding some.  Might I have some?”

        Inman, staying still as directed, "Well that's not what I was expecting you to say.  Of course, yeah."  

As Boz bent to gather the tufts, Inman, still in the game, asked, "Have the priestesses stopped snatching looks over the fence?"  

Nevil raised a brow but stayed focused.  "Careful love, laughing isn't going to help steady my hand.”

Inman smirked, "How bad is it back there brother? Am I going to have to shave it?"

 

Before Boz could respond, Nevil jumped in, pausing from her efforts for a proper pretend scolding.  "Oh please, you know it's fine.  A girl raised in a tavern, in a port town.  Did you imagine yourself as the only man whose hair I've had my fingers in?"

Nevil looked to Boz as though nothing she said was unusual.  But Inman, unable to face him, and trying to hold his composure, began collecting tufts off the towel.  

Nevil then snipped the air with the shears for effect, "Speaking of which, you want a quickie?" 

Inman half choked on his chuckle and looked up to Boz holding out hair trimmings.  “She's gentle.”

Boz takes the proffered bits of hair from Inman as he glances between the two.  “Yeah, I might need a trim, but I think I’ll pass for now.  In fact I think I’ll just move on to the next part of today’s scavenger’s list.”    Boz winks at Inman, “Looks like you two are otherwise engaged.”  Quickly reaching in with his nibble fingers he snatched another clump of hair off the back of the towel before Nevil was able to interfere and hastily made his escape, chuckling softly to himself as he went. 

Nevil combed through Inman's hair one last time as the baudy couple held it together long enough to watch Boz reach a comfortable distance. As soon as he turned the corner into the garden and back into the house they both broke their silence with giggles.  

Satisfied with her work, Nevil pulled the towel off Inman and wiped the sheers. "I think we overdid it a bit."  Inman gently led Nevil into his lap.  "Naw, Boz can handle it, trust me."  Nevil looked questioningly at Inman as she let him take the shears and set them aside before continuing, "And what is the fee for this service my lady?" 

Nevil grinned, fingering his chin, quite pleased with herself, "perhaps you should have asked before I began?" 

Realizing his mistake, Inman's grip grew firm about her waist. "Then I am indeed at a disadvantage.  Will I have to indenture myself for this debt?

Nevil's eyes did not waiver and a sly grin grew across her face. "Don't be silly.  It is but a small fee. A simple kiss."

Inman pulled Nevil gently to his lips, but he paused, ever so close. To draw the moment, he softly groaned in consideration. "Agreed."  To Nevil’s surprise, he waited yet again, and the two held their stalemate, nearly lip to lip, in the warming sun.

Nevil chuckled at the ridiculous pause, "I am waiting, sir."

Realizing he had a way out, Inman loosened his grip, "As am I, my lady.  But, I can not stand when you are on my lap."

Assured of her victory, Nevil goaded, "But I am right here?"

Without hesitation, as if it was obvious, Inman replied.  "Oh, no my love.  When I agreed, you did not specify a time nor place, nor..."  

Nevil scoffed, pulling away from Inman.  "But sir, your debt..."

Inman broke in, "...will be paid in full. As agreed."

Nevil was shocked, "You... you..."

Inman gently stood, ushering Nevil off his lap to begin a theatrical ramble while grinning knowingly at Nevil.  "I... I... really must go.  I have several hours of study to begin that will take my full attention.  I have a theory about Pearson's law that I need to work through.  It could make casting more efficient."

As Inman walked off Nevil picked up her tools and called after Inman with a pleased smile, "You really are an ass."

"and it's my best part, too." He replied.

 I AM DECEASED :-D

**************************

Cirilli looked at the glowing tracks, still taken aback by the thought that Gwaeron Windstrom was leaving the faerie fire to highlight the tracks that she was missing.  Determinedly she looked for the next trail sign, finding it with the assistance of Gwaeron.  The pleasure of finding the signs on her own shined in her face as she showed them to Atalaya.  Moving on, she found several signs before losing the trail again.  In the distance a faint glow appeared.  

Atalaya watched as Cirilli noticed the new hint and made her way carefully to it.  As Cirilli found the next signs on her own, Atalaya followed her lead and enjoyed watching the wonder that was written plainly across Cirilli’s face.  When they reached the werewolves gathering spot Cirilli danced a little jig in her excitement.  “Here it is!.  We’ve found it.  I followed the trail with just a bit of help.”  Looking around the campsite she asked, “What’s next?”

Atalaya guided her to the edge of the campsite where the trail was.  “When you complete a stalking or tracking those who venerate Gwaeron mark the end of the trail thusly.”  Atalaya then finding a spot of soft earth used her right foot to make a circle of footprints, with her heel being the center point and her toes pointing out spaced so that it was completed after the sixth print.  

“I thought you worshiped Mielikki?” Cirilli commented looking confused.

“I do.  But I’m a ranger and we all acknowledge Gwaeron in one fashion or another.  And if you talk to enough rangers, you will find that he often involves himself in our training.  At least here within the northern parts of Faerun.  What it tells me is that your work to become a ranger has been noted and approved by him.”  After a moment she added, “So make your mark here to end your tracking of this prey, and then you need to determine how many werewolves seemed to be using this place.”

Nevil paused on her way back through the garden.  The priestesses had done a remarkable job in so little time.  Both were on their knees kneading the soils with their hands, removing weeds, and finishing the small beds.  It was not a complete overhaul, just a taming of the vines and roses already there.

Nevil addressed the pair who sat comfortably back on their bare heels.  "It's coming along my sisters."

The older priestesses smiled.  "It was a wonderful morning devotional and it should make a lovely spot for tonight's sunset prayers."

Nevil nodded in agreement when the priestesses asked. "I know you will be joining us, but given our work tonight, perhaps you would extend our offer to your family as well?"

Nevil smiled, "I will. Some do not feel so called. But I will."

Nevil entered the parlor, after placing her pack just inside the mudroom.  Sorrow was lounging, playing his fiddle softly, trying the new melodies that Madrina was humming.  Feeding them to him, intentionally no doubt, as she pretended not to notice his gaze and purposeful melodic reply. She was busy with lunch preparations, hands deep in a large bowl of vegetables with a paring knife.  She turned to Nevil who approached.  "Where can I help?"  

Madrina smiled, "We are almost done, but If you would wash up, you can trim and cube the meat in the kitchen. We can get this stew on. It's not fancy but it is rich with spices."

Nevil curiously looked in the kitchen and found no one. "We?"

Madrina, with hands full, pointed to Sorrow with her knife.  "The gentleman spent the morning moving water from the well in the basement.  The water should almost be boiling." 

Nevil looked in the pot, indeed it was boiling, but a look of confusion crossed her face as she considered it's size.

Madrina followed Nevil into the kitchen with the bowl.  Noticing Nevils's expression, Madrina laughed, "He filled a wash tub for me as well."

Nevil leaned back to look at Sorrow, still lounging, playing softly, with a dark slowly burning stare toward the kitchen, with a contended sly grin.

Madrina continued with a little grin, as Nevil washed her hands.  "It doesn't matter how old I get, these games are fun."

Nevil chuckled, "Indeed.”

Nevil couldn't help but notice that the both of them looked quite disheveled, Sorrow uncharacteristically so. The lacings on his linen shirt are incorrectly threaded and hanging carelessly. And she didn't remember the placket on the garment being frayed and slightly torn at the juncture, but there it was, the threads broken and the raw edge of the fabric pulling free.

It did not look like an old tear, and as fussy as Sorrow was about his wardrobe and appearance, he certainly would have noticed it while getting dressed this morning. 

Nevil smiled to herself, rolled up her sleeves, and did as instructed.  She washed her hands and began to prepare the meat. It didn't take long, the knife was sharp.  Madrina was ready.  The cubes slid into a hot pan.  Several minutes later while Nevil was drying her hands after washing up, Madrina added a ladleful of water lifting the glaze and the room began to fill with savory aromas. Nevil filled two mugs of water and walked outside, offering each to the priestesses. “For you not the plants.” She teased.  The women happily accepted.  Both were glistening in the mid-day sun. “About an hour before the meal will be ready.”  After a sip, “Ah, we are almost done. It’s really just time with the earth at this point.”

Atalaya and Cirilli strolled through the manor grounds talking adamantly as Nevil entered the home.  “I’ve got to tell Nevil.  That was so fun, Atalaya.  Thank you.”  

“Go on.  You did well.  I’m going to see where we can put up some targets for some archery practice.  Why don’t you see who might like to try some shooting after lunch.  I think Vaz was interested and Nevil expressed interest a few days ago.”

“I can do that!  I’ll let you know who wants to.”  Cirilli raced towards the doorway.  Atalaya watched, noting that her hair was starting to grow longer.  She is going to need some hair ties if she doesn’t cut it again.  

Atalaya walked around the manor slowly, observing the layout and what landscaping remained.  The priestesses were still working in what had been the rose garden and she made her way over to them.  “You both look like you are enjoying your labors.”  

Sunshine wiped her brow as she turned to greet Atalaya.  “We are indeed.  This garden has been shamefully neglected, yet the roses are still struggling to share their beauty.”

 “I can already see that you have brought much order to the roses here.”  Atalaya squatted down to sniff a large pink bloom.  A smile blossomed on her face.  “This was one of my mother’s favorites.  Mostly she grew her herbs for her work and of course vegetables for our table.”  On automatic pilot, Atalaya reached down and pulled a weed crowding the rosebush, careful to avoid the thorns.  “This reminds me of home,” she whispered to herself.  Looking at the chickweed in her hand she stopped herself from tossing it into the pile of weeds.  “Are you planning to revitalize an herb garden?  If not, I’ll take this in and we can find a use for it in today’s meals.”

Sunshine reached for the plant and turned it in her hands as she studied it.  “Hmm… chickweed.”  She smiled and recited, “Chickweed, also called mouse ear, starweed, white bird’s eye and winterweed.   A good addition to salads or used to garnish other foods.  Also a medical herb, with many uses, from treating skin and respiratory issues to treating inflammation and arthritis…”  Sunshine blushed as  her voice petered out.  “Sorry.  I’m sure you don’t care about the many uses of chickweed.  I tend to babble when I am thinking.  Chickweed can be invaluable to those that chose to live here.  It’s not needed with the roses, but I’m sure I could find a spot for it and see if we can establish it.  It’s late in the year, but if your Gurrish friends will provide it with water when it’s needed….  Yes, I think we should start a little herb garden.  Leave that with us and we will see it planted.”

Atalaya laughed.  “You sounded so much like my mother just now.”  Shaking her head, she handed over the plants she had pulled up.  “I wonder which of you know more about this plant.  I’ll leave this in your care then.”  Hesitating for a moment but then she continued.  I’ll be holding an archery lesson with Cirilli this afternoon, but all who wish to work on their archery may join in if they wish.  Both of you and your guards are welcome to play with us.”  

Atalaya headed on towards the kitchen without giving them time to reply.  

****************

Cirill burst into the manor, calling for Nevil.  She skidded to a more decorous walk as she entered the kitchen.  ‘Nevil, you will never…” her eyes swiveled to Sorrow and Madrina, taking in Sorrow’s less than perfect attire.  “What happened….

The bow in Sorrow's hand paused on the fiddle strings, emitting an amusing squeak as he looked at her, startled. He raised an eyebrow. "Um?" 

Nevil turned, tracing Cirilii’s stares. She pretended to review the appearance of each for the obvious signs to which Cirilli was no doubt referring. She pulled Cirilli close with an arm around her shoulder to be more discreet.  “It has been a busy morning here.  Sorrow, despite his mellow appearance now, has been eagerly pursuing the ‘labors of men’ and Madam Madrina has been working hard tending to the needs of her guests.”  Madrina glanced at Nevil with a knowing grin and added the last of the ingredients to what would be a stew after a good simmering.

Nevil added,”why don’t take Sorrow upstairs to freshen him up.  He'd probably love some womanly attention.”  Madrina’s grin widened.

Cirilli's gaze landed on each of the three adults and finally returned to Sorrow as she scrutinized his appearance.  Turning back towards Nevil she noticed Madrina’s grin.  Rolling her eyes and shaking her head she sighed.  “I don’t really want to know what was going on, do I?”  

Turning back to Sorrow she held out her hand.  “Let’s get you cleaned up before lunch.  I thought minstrels needed to maintain a…” she searches for the phrase, “oh yeah, ‘a neat, tidy and performance worthy appearance’ at all times.”  She tugged playfully at the shirt lacing.  “It looks like a toddler laced this, Sorrow,” she remarked, the smile growing on her face.  “And a tear?  Shouldn’t you have taken care of this by now?  Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”  Cirilli started to tug him towards the stairs.  As they headed up the stairs Nevil could faintly hear Cirilli saying, “So do you want to hear about my lesson?”

As they ascended the stairs Nevil could just make out Cirilli saying, “And we cold tracked the werewolves all the way back to their camp, and that was really hard because that was a lot of days ago.  …”  Her voice faded away as they reached the next floor.  

Cirilli continued pulling Sorrow up the stairs.  “Is Inman up there?  We could have him clean your shirt for you and then you can mend it.  That will make it look a lot better,  And we’ll fix your lacings.  How did you let yourself get into such a mess?” she asked as she pulled Inman into the room he had slept in and pushed him into sitting on the edge of the bed.  “And where is your brush?”  Your hair is a mess?  Didn’t you brush it this morning?”  

Cirilli’s eyes searched the room but seeing nothing of use.  “You sit here.  I’m going to look for Inman and a brush.  You can run your mending cantrip while I do that.”
Cirilli made a quick search of the upper floor, sending Inman into Sorrow’s room when she passed him.  Diving into her backpack she pulled out her brush and some ribbons from Midsummer and some she had gotten during her stay with Elandil and the Greenleaf clan.  She raced back to Sorrow calling out, “I’ve found just what we need,” as a wide smile danced across her face.  “We’ll have you looking better in no time.”  

Looking up she saw Inman finishing an arcane hand gesture and nodded at him.  “Perfect.  Thanks Inman.  Now we just need to lace this correctly.  Really Sorrow, what were you thinking?  I didn’t notice you hadn’t laced it correctly at breakfast, or I would have helped you fix it then.”

“Sorrow and Inman looked at each other and finally Sorrow asked, “Is everything alright, Cirilli?  Didn’t everything go okay with Atalaya this morning?”

Cirilli was quiet for just a moment before answering.  “Of course.  We tracked the werewolves all the way back to the camp like I told you.  It was really hard because the trail was so old.  Sometimes I couldn’t figure out where it had gone, but then I’d see a sign glowing with what Atalaya says is a type of faerie fire.”  She looked down at the brush for a second.  “Atalaya says that it was Gwaeron making the signs glow to help me learn how to track.  I don’t know.  Maybe it was Atalaya?  Making the signs glow?  If Gwaeron trained the first rangers and they trained the next etc, then it could be said that Atalaya training me is passing on Gwaeron’s lessons and therefore he was helping me, right?”

Inman looked uncertain as Sorrow weighed his options of ribbons.  "I don't know.  I don't think Atalaya can do that." Inman looked to Sorrow through the mirror for confirmation, "right?"

Placating Cirilli’s whims, Sorrow held out two ribbons.  Cirilli plucked them then ran the brush through his hair.  Sorrow added, "the stories are pretty consistent that it's Gwaeron’s workings... and no, I’ve never seen a ranger with that gift.”

Cirilli’s brow furled as she contemplated Sorrow’s and Inman’s words.  She ran the brush expertly through Sorrow’s hair, smoothing out the tangles and fly away pieces.  Then placing the first ribbon that Sorrow had handed her, a bright yellow golden ribbon, she began to loosely braid a  hank of his hair.  Tying it off with the gold ribbon, she quickly started another braid and tied it off with the matching ribbon.  As Sorrow started to move, she firmly pushed him back onto the bed and began braiding another section of hair. Once finished she randomly reached for another of her ribbons to weave into the braid. 
Inman tried hard to hold in his laughter as Cirilli started yet another braid.  Pushing her concerns away she shot a quick wicked little grin at Inman.  “Don’t worry, I’m going to save some for both you and Boz.  I wouldn’t want you to feel left out.  All you guys need to spruce it up for your ladies.”

[Inman/Sorrow place holder]

Nevil smiled to herself when she caught Madrina watching Sorrow climb the stairs in tow of the exuberant teen.  She set a large kettle on and began to set the table as Madrina stirred the pot while the water came back up to a simmer.  

Just moments later Atalaya entered the manor and made her way to the kitchen, hoping to find some water to clean the dirt off her hands.  Seeing Nevil and Madrina, she greeted them and then asked, “Did Cirilli make her way in yet?  And do either of you know where Vaz is?”

Nevil was happy to see Atalaya.  Given the workings of late, having everyone accounted for in one safe place was comforting.  Pausing to address her friend, “Oh yes, Cirilli is ravishing some attention on Sorrow upstairs. Boz, well, Madrina, where did you send him with the hair clippings?  I assumed upstairs to practice something.”

Nevil's question caught Madrina mid-tasting with the scaling stew on a spoon entering her mouth.  She gestured with a quick nod and pointed upstairs as she examined the flavors while avoiding being burned. A moment later, "Mmmm, that's coming along. Yes, he should be finishing his practice soon.”

Turning back to Atalaya,  Nevil added, “How was Cirill’s morning practice?”

     “Very interesting.”  Atalaya studied Nevil as she dried her hands and carefully hung the dish towel on a hook.  Atalaya searched for the coffee pot.  Seeing it warming on a corner of the stove she filled a mug and inhaled the coffee aroma before sitting on the chair Sorrow had vacated.   

      “I‘ve told you about Gwaeron and his participation in the training of young rangers, haven’t I?”

      Seeing Nevil’s nod she continued, “Well, you could say that she has been formally accepted into the brotherhood of ranger trainees this morning.  Gwaeron assisted in today’s lesson.”

With surprise, Nevil stopped and gave her full attention to Atalaya.  "Wait, what?!"  A big smile grew, "I feel like this is a big deal. One that should be celebrated."  

Boz and Inman's laughter could be heard upstairs.  Then a brief scuffle.  Then light steps came running down the stairs. Boz and Inman quickly turned the corner and interrupted the moment.  The women looked over expecting further explanation from the pair but found only mischievous boyish grins. 

Boz noticed Atalaya’s expression, "What did we miss? Cirilli is going on and on... we wanted to hear more but..."  Boz worked hard to hold his composure.

Inman giggled and added, "after seeing her workings on Sorrow...  we decided an expeditious retreat was in order."  

Boz drew closer to Atalaya, growing calmer, softer, as he approached. "What happened that has gotten her so excited?”

Atalaya reached out her hand as Vaz stepped closer to her, a grin appearing on her face. “Cirilli just had her first experience with the Master Tracker.”  Noting Vaz’s questioning look she added, “Gwaeron assisted in her lessons today.  A bit of a shock for her as I don’t think she believed me when I talked about his interest and the care he takes during a ranger’s training.”  Trying to hold her composure she tugged Vaz closer.  Drawing strength from his presence she continued, “I think she thought everything I had told her and the ballads that Sorrow has shared with her were just stories, myths or events from long ago that had nothing to do with her.”

Vasilya moved behind Atalaya as she sat sipping her coffee.  Resting his hands on her shoulders he rubbed the back of her neck, easing the tension he found there.  “She’s young and from what you and she have told me, her experiences with the different clerics she has had would leave anyone with a sour taste in their mouth.  Will she be joining you and Nevil in your morning devotions now?”  

Atalaya laughed.  “Not likely.  Nor would Gwaeron want that.  Those who look to him usually ask him to assist them with their ability to use the weave around dusk.  It’s a simple request that the ranger makes of him.”

“So the tracking went well.  What are your plans for this afternoon?”

Turning to search Vasilya’s eyes she shook her head.  “Archery of course.  You said you were going to join us, remember?”

“Right.  I’ll be there.  Wouldn’t miss it.  After lunch, right?””

“Yes.  Anyone else joining us?  Nevil?”

Inman brought a cup of tea to Nevil and sat beside her on the lounger.  Nevil smiled in thanks. "This does not absolve your debt sir."

"Quite right my dear.  A kiss is due." Inman replied, leaning slowly in toward Nevil. Nevil was disappointed to hear Inman set his tea cup on the table over her shoulder and to watch him briskly make his way to the kitchen. 

Inman stood near Madrina, who just set down the ladle and let the simmering pot roll on.  In a most courtly manner, Inman held his hand to Madrina and leaned in a half bow.  Perhaps out of reflex, likely out of confusion, Madrina offered her hand. Inman gently held it.  "Madam, your hospitality in this most humble of situations is unparalleled." He then sealed his thanks with a kiss to the back of her hand, met her eyes again in sincere thanks, and grinned at Nevil.

Nevil cast a shocked glare at Inman. When Atalaya’s question entered her mind.  "What?  Archery... yes." Nevil turned to Atalaya. "Yes!"

The off rhythm gait of an eager teen galloping down stairs broke the tension between Nevil and Inman.  Cirilli bound her way to Atalaya and Nevil.  Sorrow turned the corner to the kitchen to find Inman standing from a bow with Madrina’s hand. 

Sorrow’s back straightened and his tail possessively swished as he met Madrina’s eyes.  A commanding presence indeed.  But... Cirilli’s work was apparent, as was Sorrow’s love and tolerance of the child. Indeed a clean crisp shirt had replaced the previously torn and ruffled one, but Sorrow was now also speckled with uneven loose braids, tied with ribbons of all colors and sizes.

Atalaya tried to stifle the laughter that bubbled up as she watched the braids in Sorrow’s hair flow past her as he made his way towards Madrina.  But, it didn’t work and hearty chuckles exploded from her.  Pulling away from Vasilya, she sidled up to Sorrow, fingering his braids.  “Trying out a new hairstyle my friend?”  Looking him up and down again she nodded to herself.  “The colored ribbons make quite a statement.”  Catching Cirilli’s eye, she winked.  

Atalaya gave one of Sorrow’s braids a quick tug as Vasilya made his way to her and pulled her away from the tiefling.  “Hey, none of that.”

“Oh, should we ask Cirilli to fix your hair so I can tug on your braids?”  Atalaya asked sweetly.  

Vasilya rolled his eyes.  “Don’t you dare,” he whispered. 

***************

Cirilli laughed and winked back at Atalaya.  She then turned her attention back to Nevil.  “You should have come with us this morning!  We cold tracked the werewolves back to their camp.  And when I couldn’t find the path, faerie fire would show me the next sign. Atalaya says that is Gwaeron teaching me to track.  You know, I didn’t believe the stories that Atalaya and Sorrow told me about him, but ….   When I couldn’t find the next sign he would make it light up with something Atalaya called fairy fire.”  Getting serious she added, “If it was him, I can see why he is called a master tracker.  Some of the signs were really far apart, and very faint or hidden.  It’s been days since they attacked the manor.  But I was led to every one of them.”  Finally taking a breath, she added, “And after a while, I was even able to find some of them without the faerie fire or Atalaya’s help.  Well, at least the more visible ones.”

Lowering her voice and leaning towards Nevil’s ear she whispered, “It was kind of scary at first.  Atalaya says that it means that Gwaeron accepts me as a ranger trainee.  I didn’t think that any of the gods cared anything about me.  I’m still really angry that they didn’t help me when I needed their help.  But Atalaya keeps saying that Gwaeron isn’t really a god, just a helper friend to Mielikki.  So I guess that’s alright.”

Nevil smiled listening to Cirilli’s excited recounting of her morning's encounter. She didn't have the heart to slow her.  But as the teen whispered into Nevil's ear, Nevil's expression changed dramatically and she met Atalaya’s eyes with concern.  

Nevil's heart ached as she leaned into Cirilli to whisper her answers. "And your feelings on the Gods are understandable.  But can I tell you a secret?"  Cirilli nodded. "The God's have immense power, yes... worthy of emulation and devotion, yes.... but they are flawed just like us." [check for atalaya to hear  DC=13,  Atalaya’s perception roll=9, fail ]  

"And all that power," Cirilli almost whispered, "And they let my entire town go mad. They let the cult put me and Sandy and Summer in cages and it wasn't them that saved us. Why are they worthy? Because they're powerful?" She shook her head, her voice started to tremble the way rock quakes during a tremor. "So was the naga. So was the demon that took Sorrow. So was the thing in the cave back at that farm." She shook her head again, once, her eyes gazing at something only she could see, falling silent.

"You want to know who was more powerful than the naga?" she said finally, seemingly to herself. "Me."

"Yes, you were." Nevil looked softly to Cirilli then she stood. "Take a walk with me in the yard."  Cirilli hesitated and looked uncertainly at Nevil, who insisted, pointing to the door. "There is time before lunch and we have things to discuss, else I will not sleep tonight."

The pair passed the Chauntean priestesses washing up in the garden.  They made their way to the far side of the yard by the dilapidated stable.  Shep and the mares lazily munched new shoots.

Atalaya watched her ward and Nevil as they left the manor, her eyes worried and a slight frown on her face.  Cirilli is upset about something now, when she was so excited a few minutes ago.  What changed?  Seeing Nevil’s pointing finger and Cirilli’s dragging feet, she followed behind them, keeping well behind them and stopping out of earshot of the two.  She jumped as Vasilya came up behind her, taking her hand as he started back towards the manor.  Vasilya shook his head, tightened his grasp slightly and continued to guide her back to the manor.  “You trust Nevil, don’t you?  Let them have their talk.  You can ask about it later.”

Nevil rolled the leather token between her fingers as she leaned against a fence rail. "Cirilli, you have been through so much. You deserve someone better than me at this part.  But we work with what we got." 

Nevil smiled weakly, "the truth is, I'm not a very good Paladin.  My faith is... unorthodox in many ways. From what I can tell, and despite what many clerics will say, the Gods are not all knowing, they are not all powerful, and they struggle in this existence as we all do.  It's not their power that draws my heart, but their humanity."

"How do I explain?   When you walk the world, you see suffering? So then, do you stop every time to help?  How much of yourself do you give? Would you show favorites to those who spend time with you, to your family? But how is that fair, when the suffering is so great and you have limits? How should they choose? How should they be judged when they will always fall short?”

Cirilli turns her focus back to Nevil, and she shrugs. "Why should I?" A faint, tight smile curls her lips. "I give what I can. Do these gods?"

Nevil calmly nods, "that's a matter of faith I suppose.  But that's also my point, even if they gave everything, it could never be enough.  There is so, so much evil in the world.  So, how do you judge a God knowing that in their great but limited power, they can't ever both act and make it fair for everyone?"

Both sat in silence, then Nevil sighed.  "I hope I am judged by my actions and intent, because like the Gods, I will never do enough, I can never be enough to save everyone."

Nevil looked to Cirilli, "I know it's little solace when it was your suffering to endure. But I also know what it is to live with a choice that brought death and suffering to my family.  I still get mad, but I try to give the grace to my God that I hope she would give me.”

Cirilli thought about this a bit. "I hope she doesn't expect you to be stronger than her, a god." She looked at the ground, and then back into Nevil's eyes, searching for truth. "Will I have to choose?" 

Nevil shook her head as she continued to finger the token.  "No, you don't.  No one can force true faith upon you."  

Nevil looked at the teen earnestly, "I'm sorry, I know this is a hard topic for you.  But the idea that you thought the Gods indifferent...  I've been there.  I spent many days demanding answers.  It took time to hear their reply, and they rarely answer directly, but I do know they listen and they feel our pain.”

Cirilli fell silent, thinking. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "No one can force true faith, no," she said carefully. "I can't make myself believe something if I don't. So..." Her brows knotted briefly. "If I must devote myself to these gods to continue...I don't think I can. It seems to be very important...but..." She shakes her head. "I don't know what to do. I mean...what do I do?" She looks hard at Nevil, searching. "What do I say? How can I tell her these things?"

Nevil looked earnestly at the teen.  "This is not something you have to decide right now.  Maybe just don't rule it out yet." With a smile looking back down at the token, Nevil kicked her weight off the fence and stood to give Cirilli some distance, "and talking to Atalaya about this before making any decisions, is probably the route to go.  Ranger to ranger, you know?”

Cirilli nodded slowly. "Yeah." Her face was pinched with stress. She nodded again. "Alright. I guess I'm going to have to."

Nevil began to walk slowly towards the house with Cirilli stepping quickly to catch up. Nevil looked back over her shoulder and caught Cirilli's weary eye, "But what do you say? Nevil shrugged, "well, like any conversation, that entirely depends on who you wish to talk to and what your goals are..."  If that's something you wish to do, seek Atalaya’s counsel first."

The two walked in silence for a few steps, "I for one am ready for a bow lesson after lunch.  Are you going to give me pointers?”

Cirilli stopped and a startled look crossed her face.  “You are asking me for pointers?  Why?  Shouldn’t you be asking Atalaya?”  She looked up into Nevil’s eyes.  “I’m still learning.  You’ve seen Atalaya shoot.  She is almost as good as Cirdan.”  

Nevil relaxed as she saw Cirilli softened after the tense discussion.  "Well I haven't picked up a bow in several years.  It's not going to be pretty... and teaching what you know is a great way to learn.”

************************

Atalaya stood in the doorway, looking out, a worried expression on her face.  Finally seeing Nevil and Cirilli heading back she called out and waved.  “Hurry up!  Lunch is ready and we are waiting for you.”  Atalaya watched the pair pass by her and enter the parlor where the noon luncheon was laid out.  People sat wherever they could; some of the furniture, others on the floor.  Atalaya made her way back to where Vasilya was seated by one of the armchairs.  His hand tugged her down to sit next to him.  

His finger traced along the frown lines on her forehead.  “What is saddening your thoughts, Iubet?  We will find a way to allow the child to rest tonight.”  His hand smoothed across her brow a second time.  “Just staring at the food?  That must be the problem.  Do you need me to feed you?” he asked as his hand reached for her plate. 

Atalaya laughed quietly, her hand intercepting his.  “Hands off my food.  You have plenty of your own.”  

Atalaya looked around the room.  “Archery practice after lunch.”  Looking at the Chauntean priestesses and their guards, “It’s open to all.  You are welcome to join us.”

Inman had already ladled two bowls of stew, grabbed two slices of bread, and had coffee waiting for Nevil's return.  Nestled in a window nook at the far side of the den, he handed a mug to Nevil as she approached.  "A pause from our game... that looked serious." 

Nevil accepted the warm mug and sat next to Inman, knees touching, the pair smiling, in a little indoor picnic. "It was, and it wasn't."  

Inman looked up through the fall of his hair as he listened to Nevil while bending over the bowl to eat. "Care to share?"

Nevil shook her head as she stirred the hot stew. "Nope, words between a girl and a cleric are private."

Inman looked up with curiosity as she continued with a grin, "you should try it some time."

Atalaya’s call to practice turned Nevil's head.  The two made eye contact and Nevil nodded.

Atalaya nodded back to Nevil.  “Let’s find some things to use as targets.  I seem to remember some scrap wood down in the basement and maybe some old crates that we could use.”  She headed towards the basement stairs with Vasilya following her.  

***********

Chapter 4: Archery Practice - Round 1

Atalaya stood back and looked at the targets set up in the old horse pasture.  The targets were ranged for both the shortbow and longbow users.  Her hand rested on the top top of the final target, the one for Cirilli.  She eyed the distances to the different shooting lines.  They began at 40 feet from the target and increased by 20 feet until they reached 150 feet.  She smiled as she watched Cirilli and Nevil approach.  

Cirilli looked around at the targets, her gaze landing on the longbow ranged and she gulped slightly.  “You don’t expect me to be able to hit that target, do you?” she asked hesitantly.  I’ve never shot anywhere close to that distance.”

“No, those are for those of us who use a longbow.  Those over there are for the shortbow.  And this one is for you.”  At Cirilli’s quizzical look she continued.  “For today’s practice you are going to start shooting at the first shooting point.  When you reach 50 points with ten arrows you move back to the next line.  Again, when you shoot fifty points with ten arrows you get to move to the next shooting line.  Let’s see how far back you can get.”  

Cirilli focused on the target.  “How much are each of these rings worth?”  

“Center ring is worth 10 points, the next is worth 8, the middle one is worth 6, then 4 and then 2 points.  No points for outside the last circle.”  

“So I can move up when I get fifty points, I don’t have to hit in the bullseye?”

“Not this time.  I want to see your form and how you can adjust to different ranges.  Range shooting is fun, but in hunting and battle you are not going to have a consistent shooting distance.  And your target is often moving and you need to be able to adjust your aim for different distances.”

“Do you expect me to make it all the way back there?  That looks really far.”

“I’m sure that Joan and Cirdan explained the range of your shortbow.  Normal range is up to eighty feet.  You can shoot farther than that, but its accuracy decreases after that.  I’ll sweeten the pot a bit.  If you can get 70 points at the 80 feet range I’ll get you another magicked arrow at the next place we stop where magicked weapons are sold.”

“How many tries do I have?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Well, if you make it to the eighty feet mark, I’ll give you 3 tries to make the eighty points.  Does that sound fair to you?”

Cirilli nodded excitedly.  “Let’s go.”

Atalaya, happy to see Cirilli’s excitement returning, nodded.  “How about you Nevil?  What are you going to try?  Shortbow?  Longbow?”      

Nevil looked uncertain, "I don't know, it's been quite a while.  A couple of years at least.  I was decent with a shortbow at one point with Papa, but I probably have the strength for a longbow now that I'm older."  Nevil looked between the rangers, "suggestions?"

Inman sat on the lower bough of a tree nearby.  He sat to watch with what he hoped would be a crisp apple in his hand.

Atalaya reached for her longbow as she looked at Nevil.  “Well, I know you are strong, I’ve watched you fight.  Can you string and draw my bow?” she asked as she handed the bow to Nevil.

Nevil scoffed, "well, I may not hit anything with it, but stringing a bow is like swimming.  It's kinda hard to forget."  Nevil quickly bent the bow with leverage from her legs.  She took a broad stance and slowly drew back the string to hold it briefly by her cheek.  Releasing it slowly, "feels good.  But I'm not going first.”

Atalaya took her bow back and unstrung it.  “Are you ready to shoot Cirilli?  Maybe after Nevil watches you, she will be ready to try.”

Cirilli nodded.  “Are you ready to buy me a new magicked arrow?” she challenged.  “We start at the first marker, right?”  Cirilli pulled out her arrows and checked each one carefully, picking out the 10 she wanted to use and returning them to her quiver.  Laying her cloak out of the way, she placed the rest of her arrows on it.  Stepping up to the first marker, she strung her shortbow.  Gnawing on her lip she eyed the target as she reached for her first arrow.  Notching it, she drew the arrow back as she sighted her target.  Steadying her breath and firming her core muscles she let the arrow fly towards the target.  A smile crossed her face as she called out, “6 points!”

She carefully aimed her next arrow and let it fly.  “Oh, that’s better, 8 points.  That makes 14 points.”

Cirilli continued shooting her next two arrows.  They also landed in the ring just outside of the bull’s eye.  “8 more points for a total of 30 points,” she called out.  

Cirilli watched as her fifth arrow hit outside the target area.  Her face fell, but she called out, “Miss, zero points.  Total remains at thirty.”  Taking a deep breath she picked her next arrow, carefully nocked, drew and aimed and then let loose of the string.  This arrow clearly landed in the center circle.  “Bull’s Eye!  Did you see that?  That’s 10 points!  Total of 40 points.”  Cirilli checked her quiver, fingering her four remaining arrows.  “I need 10 more points to move up, right?”

Atalaya nodded.  “That’s right.  Ten more points.  You can do this Cirilli.”

Taking a deep breath and trying to remember everything that Cirdan had ever told her about archery she reached into her quiver and pulled out the next arrow.  Then swiftly nocking and drawing the arrow back, she aimed and shot.  This arrow also hit the bull’s eye, but closer to the edge.  “Another 10 points,” she crowed.  That makes 50 points!  I can move back!”

Atalaya nodded.  “Yes, but finish your round.  You have another three shots to go.”

Cirilli reached for another arrow and let it fly with scarcely a look at the target.  While it did hit the boards, it was far from even the outer circle.

“Cirilli, focus.  Nothing is attacking you here.  You have time to set up and aim your shots carefully.  Make use of   that,  You may have your fifty points, but is that all you want?  Make these arrows count.”

Cirilli reddened and not meeting Atalaya’s eyes nodded.  “You’re right.  I will do better.”  Taking her next arrow, her hand shook slightly while she nocked the arrow.  But, as she sighted the target and drew it back her hand steadied and she let the arrow fly.  When it hit the target she called out, “6 points, for 56 total.”  Taking another deep steady breath she plucked up the final arrow and sighting the target she drew, aimed and shot her final arrow.  “8 points, for a total of 64 points.”

“Much better, Daughter of my heart.  A good round and you will move up.  Atalaya looked around, finally noticing Inman, Vaz and Sorrow had all gathered around watching Cirilli’s shooting.  Vasilya walked with Cirilli to the target to gather her arrows.  Atalaya asked, “So, who is next?”

Nevil stepped up with a grin, "well, time to show my stuff I suppose."  She reverently accepted the borrowed long bow, strung it, and selected ten random arrows.  Cirilli baulked at Nevil’s lack of concern for arrow quality.  Nevil noted, "I know, but I was trained as militia with what we scraped together.  And I trust Atalaya would not keep poor arrows."

Then Nevil started slow. She made no comments between shots, only making minor adjustments in her stance and form, to adapt to the new weapon.  Arrow after arrow sunk into the target, all of them in fact. 

Nevil relaxed and began to count points.  "60, 70, 74... not bad for a rusty old gal.  But this distance is not supposed to be the challenge." She held out the bow to Atalaya, "Master Archer? Vas?"

“Still, well shot,” Atalaya praised,  “You are not nearly as rusty as you led me to believe.”  Turning to Vasilya she added, “You are up next Vaz.”  

Vasilya nodded.  He handed his quiver to Cirilli.  “How about you pick out which arrows I use?”

Cirilli’s eyes sparkled.  “I can do that!”  She began searching through his quiver.  “These need to be refletched she said handing him seven arrows.  See.  The quills are broken or bent.  You need to give these to Atalaya to fix for you.  The others are usable,” she added.  

Vasilya tried to curtail the laughter that wanted to burst forth.  Schooling his expression he handed the offending arrows to Atalaya, “Can you do anything with these?”

Atalaya looked them over carefully.  “Well, Cirilli is right, you don’t want to use these today.”  She pointed to the first marker.  “If you are participating in Cirilli’s exercise, you start there.  If you just want to shoot, you can start anywhere you want.”

Vasilya stepped up to the 40 foot marker.  “I’ll shoot with her.”  Stringing his bow he reached for his first arrow and sighted the target.  Letting it fly, he hit the bull’s eye.  Cirilli shouted out, “Ten points Boz!  That’s great.”

Vasilya readied his next shot.  This arrow hit even closer to the center point, lying next to his first.  Cirilli pranced in place in her excitement.  “Ten more points!  That’s twenty points!”  Her face fell during Vasilya’s next two shots but after the second one she announced, “Thirty two points total!.”

Vasilya smiled at her as he prepared his next shot.  While he hit the board, it was outside the target space.  “No points,” Cirilli said in a very subdued voice.  “That’s okay, you can do it Boz.  Remember to keep your core muscles strong and your eye on the target.  

Atalaya quickly wiped the smile off her face as she heard the frequently used correction for new archers.  Vasilya readied his next shot, but a gust of wind came up as he shot and the arrow barely made it into the outer circle.  “Two points,” he called out.  “That should make a total of 34 points.  His next shot missed, but then he hit the bull’s eye again.  

“Forty four total points,” Cirilli proclaimed.  “Two arrows left,” she added.

Vasilya, beginning to feel the pressure, reached for his next arrow.  Sighting carefully, he waited for the breeze to die down before letting his arrow fly, but once again, a large gust pushed his arrow out of scoring range.  

Cirilli looked distressed.  “Still at forty four points,” she called.  She stopped Vasilya’s hand as he reached for his last arrow and scrutinized the arrows he had left in his quiver.  “Here, use this one,” Cirilli directed.

Vasilya accepted her chosen arrow and carefully nocked and drew it.  Waiting for the wind to steady itself, he sent it towards the target.

“Eight points!” Cirilli crowed.  “That’s fifty two points!  You advance with Nevil and me.”

“So I do,” Vasilya replied, pulling Cirilli to his side to whisper into her ear.  “Did you doubt me, Little Warrior?”  When Cirilli widened her eyes and shook her head he chuckled.  “How about retrieving my arrows for me?”  As she ran off Vasilya made his way to Atalaya’s side.  “Your turn now.  “So, do I get a magicked arrow if I get my 80 points at 80 yards?”

Atalaya just rolled her eyes at his comment.  

“Come on, I want to see your shooting, and I’m sure that the other’s do too.”

“I shouldn’t,” Atalaya replied.  “I’m supposed to be training Cirilli.”

Cirilli returned Vasilya’s arrows and looked expectantly at Atalaya.  “Your turn.”

“No, I’ll shoot afterwards.  You need to focus on your shooting.  Not mine.”

“It’s getting windy,” she commented.

 “It is.  So what do you need to do when you are shooting in the wind?”

Cirilli thought for a minute.  Wait for it to stop blowing?”

Atalaya nodded.  That may work when there are wind gusts.  What about a steady wind?”

Cirilli thought again.  “You need to shift your aim to allow for the wind.  But how do I know where to aim?”

Atalaya laid her hand on Cirilli’s shoulder.  “You practice and learn to anticipate where to aim.  And sometimes you need a few shots to figure the wind out.  Sometimes you just miss.”  At Cirilli’s unhappy look she added, “The more you practice, the better you will become at compensating for the wind.  And remember, you must also take into account the increased distance from your target.”

Chapter 5:  Fighter Practice, Round 2

Cirilli nodded.  “Okay.”  She took her new mark and looked at the target.  Searching her quiver, she pulled out an arrow and readied herself.  Taking a deep breath she aimed and shot.  “Four points,” she called out.  The next arrow missed the target as a gust of wind pushed it aside.  “Minus 2 points she sighed,  that’s a total of 2 points.  Taking a deep breath she continued.  Her next two arrows hit and she grimaced as she called out, “Fourteen points,”  As she readied her next arrow the wind died out and she quickly shot off the arrow.  “Bull’s Eye!,” she cried out as the arrow hit.  “That makes twenty four points.”  After her last arrow she called out, “Thirty Six points.  I don’t get to move up.”  She turned her attention to Atalaya, “I could have done better if there hadn’t been any wind.”

Atalaya raised an eyebrow.

Cirilli sighed, “But we don’t control the weather when we need our bows, whether for hunting or in battle.”

Atalaya  nodded.  “That’s right.   That sounds like something my father often told me.  Is that something that Cirdan said?”

Cirilli nodded.  “Yes.  And Raven too.”

Atalaya gave her a quick hug.  “Well they are right.  You get to try again at this range on your next turn.”

Looking around she added, “Nevil, you are up.”

Nevil nodded and took the bow again, and again ten random arrows. She stepped into a broad stance, and held a long moment to pause and clear her mind.  No one was more surprised than Nevil, when her first arrow landed solidly in the dead center of the target.  Nevil smirked, "Well sometimes you get lucky."  And luck it most clearly was, for the next several arrows hit in a wide scatter over the circle.  More tellingly, one hit at such a pathetic angle that it nearly clung to the target, and another missed entirely, sailing far to the right.  But, to her credit, toward the end of the set, Nevil had found a repetition of form that worked, and her last few shots were respectable.  Even through several lackluster shots, Nevil's face remained calm and expressionless.  And again, she did not count the score until the end when she pulled arrows. "46... 50... 60.  Well, that's enough to move back, I suppose."

Walking back, Nevil looked playfully at Boz, "Let’s see you strut your stuff again Boz.”

Vasilya looked at the target as he gathered his arrows and bow.  Moving up the marker he cracked a wide grin as he responded, “I’ll just show the three of you how it’s done.”  PIcking out an arrow he carefully drew, aimed and shot the first arrow.  Cirilli squeed as it landed soundly in the bull’s eye of the target.  Vasilya quickly shot off several more arrows with two more landing in the center of the target.  His smirk persisted as he readied his next arrow.  As he let it go, a wind gust caught it, and sent it over the target.  Frowning, he picked up the next, waited for the wind to settle into a nice steady breeze before drawing and shooting his arrow.  Again the wind gusted and his arrow veered to the left of the target.  Muttering to himself, he set up his next shot, waited and then let the arrow fly.  This arrow did hit the target, but outside the scoring areas.  

Vasilya sighed.  “This isn’t going well, is it?  What have I done to upset the winds?”  Looking at his last two arrows he checked the wind and noticing that it had settled again, he quickly nocked, drew and aimed the arrow.  He waited out a slight puff of wind and then let the arrow fly.  “Well at least I hit the board," he sighed.  “Last arrow.”  Letting it fly he smiled as it hit the target, earning him 6 points.  

Cirilli stepped up to him and patted him on the shoulder.  “It’s okay.  You got more points than I did.  That’s forty points.”

“I’ll shoot with you anytime Little Warrior.  We’ll do better next time.”

Chapter 6:  Archery Practice, Round 3

Atalaya looked up into the sky, studying the cloud movement.  “This wasn't supposed to be quite so  hard.  The wind has really increased this afternoon.  I’m going to change the rules for the next rounds.  You may reshoot up to five arrows you choose to, but you must use the new result.”  

“Even if it is a lower score?” Cirilli asked.  

Atalaya nodded.  “That’s right.  You choose which ones to reshoot, and you must tell me you are reshooting before taking the shot.”

Cirilli nodded as she began her set up for her next round.  

Her arrows placed in the quiver at her hip, she approached the 60 feet line and swallowed.  Taking in the current winds she reached for her first arrow, nocked and drew.  A sudden gust picked up and the branches of the nearby tree danced in delight.  Cirilli waited it out and then quickly shot her arrow.  It landed in the middle of the target and she couldn’t help but squeal a bit in delight.  “That’s ten points!” she said looking at Atalaya.  “I don’t plan on reshooting that,” she added with a grin.  

Her next shot quickly followed with Vasilya calling out, “Eight points.  Total of 18 points.  Good shooting Cirilli.”  

Cirilli set up her next shot, but as she loosed her arrow the wind changed direction and her shot went wide, although it hit the board.  “That one I’ll reshoot,” she said as she reached for her next arrow.  Taking her time she readied herself and when the wind died down, she let the arrow fly.  

“That’s another eight points,” shouted Vasilya.  “Total of twenty six points.  You have seven arrows left.”  

Cirilli nodded, reaching for her next arrow.  This one also missed the target circles hitting the very edge of the wooden target.  Shaking her head, she immediately reached for another arrow.  “I’m reshooting that.”  Her next arrow hit the target just within the bull’s eye.  

Vasilya, walking towards the target to be sure of the call, looked back at Cirilli and called out, “Ten points!  The arrow is just inside the inner circle.  Total of thirty six points. Six arrows left to shoot.”

Cirilli nodded and reached for her arrows.  Taking a deep breath to try to calm her nerves she pulled out her next arrow.  Aiming, she let it fly towards the target.

“Six points,” called Vasilya.  “Are you keeping this shot?”  At Cirilli’s nod, he added, “Total of forty two points.  Five arrows left.”

As Cirilli shot her next arrow the wind picked up again and her shot went off course, missing the target completely.  “I’ll reshoot that one.  Quickly choosing another arrow, she readied herself, scanned the trees for the movement of the branches and finally released her arrow.  The wind gusted slightly but she still hit the target. 

“Six points!  That brings your total to forty eight points,” called out Vasilya.  Atalaya nodded, her eyes trained on the young ranger.  

“You are doing well.  Remember, this is practice, you have no time pressures today.  Wait for your shot.  Your form is good, you just get a bit impatient I think.  Use your whole body to feel for the breeze, don’t just rely on your eyes,” Atalaya coached.  

Cirilli nodded.  She looked up at the target as she readied her next arrow.  Her arrow hit the target outside of the circles again.  “How many arrows have I reshot?” she questioned.

“Three,” answered Atalaya.  “You may reshoot up to two more arrows.

“Okay, I’m going to reshoot this one.”  Cirilli pulled out another arrow and aimed.  Taking a deep breath she waited and when the wind stilled for a moment, she released her arrow.

“Eight points.  That gives you a total of fifty six points,” Vasilya announced with a smile on his face.  “Three arrows left,” he added.

Cirilli nodded.  The tension seemed to leave as she reached for her next arrow.  With more confidence she approached the shooting line and took aim at the target.  After a moment she launched her arrow and hit the target. 

“That’s another six points for Cirilli,” called Vasilya.  “That is a total of sixty two points!  Two arrows left.”

Cirilli quickly shot off her next arrow, again finding the bull’s eye.  She shot a smile at both Atalaya and Nevil as Vasilya rang out with the score of seventy two points.  Reaching for her last arrow, she again sighted and with a smile on her face released the bowstring.  The final arrow raced towards the target and landed just outside of the inner circle.  “That’s another eight points!” she called out.  “That’s, ah… 

Vasilya stepped up to her and put his arm around her shoulders.  “That’s eighty points, my little warrior.  You are definitely moving back with that score.”

“Yes, well done, Cirilli.  That’s an excellent score and you didn’t need all of your possible reshoots.”

“But I wouldn’t have moved up if I didn’t use the reshoots.”  

“Yes, but there is more wind this afternoon than expected.  It was so calm this morning.  But, learning to wait for your shots and to adjust for the wind is a good skill.  Especially when hunting, you must practice patience as you wait for a killing shot.  We don’t want to just wound an animal if at all possible when we hunt.  During battle, things are different.  Then we are trying to kill the monsters or those fighting against us.  We might not be able to wait for the perfect shot.  That’s when we need to be able to adjust to the conditions that exist in the moment.”

Atalaya turned to Nevil.  “You are at the 80 foot line.  Are you ready?”    

As Cirilli shot, Nevil stretched her shoulders.  When she cast a side glance toward Inman, she found he was already walking in her direction.  He caught her glance as he tossed the apple core to Shep and casually strode over with a smirk.  

Inman spoke low as he passed behind her, "Shouldn’t you be watching the competition?"

Nevil turned to meet his gaze on the other side, "I am.  Or have you forgotten our wager."

Inman laughed softly as he stepped within inches.  But he strategically kept his hands behind his back, and he softened his eyes.  He almost looked wounded.  "Can't you tell I'm still playing."

Nevil half smiled.  Well played, but I see your raise... 

Nevil feigned concern, raising her hand to his side and lightly pulling him closer.  She studied his face, with eyes so kind, Inman’s chest tightened.

and raise again...

Then she stretched, looking up, to put her lips close to his, holding still, a breath away.  "Restraining your hands I see.  If the game is getting too hard, you could just give in."

 Her aching was undeniable and nearly too much, but then she felt Inman's balance shift.  

Stop wavering, kiss me!  

Inman paused, and he almost lost himself, then he noticed how still Nevil remained in the moment. "My dear, are you holding your breath?" He groaned quietly and a genuinely contented grin drew across his face. "I'm glad it's not just me.  This is getting harder."  

Nevil's facade shattered and she giggled as she relaxed and stepped back a little. "It's harder than I remember or we are both more stubborn."

Inman nodded and quietly laughed. "Perhaps a new wager for this stalemate?"  Nevil looked intrigued and Inman explained. "Atalaya is right, the wind is unpredictable.  Move up after the next round and you win our game, but no re-shoots."  

Nevil considered the proposal, "and the prize?"

Inman grinned with a provocative brow raise, "...can be negotiated later."

 

Nevil's mind was made up, but she pretended to deliberate her answer.  Then noticing that Cirilli and Boz were heading to retrieve arrows, she answered, "I agree."

Inman smiled and watched her turn to Atalaya. Nevil began to walk to the 80 foot line then she addressed Atalaya, "Absolutely, but no reshoots.  Combat is not as generous as you."   

With Cirilli and Boz safety returned, Nevil drew back her first shot.  The wind was fickle and Nevil was still flustered from her game with Inman.  Her first two shots were terrible.  She turned to look at Inman, who seemed quite pleased with her performance.  He goaded her with a most sincere tone, "Don't get distracted my dear.  Keep your head in the game."  

Nevil quickly turned her irritation into silence.  Her next shots solidly struck the target.  With Nevil’s last two shots she only needed two points to make 50, move up to the next target, and to claim her victory over Inman.  Nevil’s eighth shot was only four points, but it was enough.  Nevil released her last shot at the same time Inman finished counting the score in his head.  His gasp and intentionally dramatic overreaction worked, Nevil’s shot sailed far right and missed the target.  But even still, Nevil won.

Inman sheepishly approached and drew her into his arms, kissing her properly, and longer than polite for company.  Nevil was taken back at first, but gladly accepted. She then embraced him and whispered to his ear, "Oh no, my dear, negotiations shall commence this evening.”

As Cirilli retrieved her arrows, Vasilya watched Inman and Nevil, as grin in his eyes as he read their body language.  Catching Inman’s eye at the end of his exchanges with Nevil he winked and then restrung his bow and readied himself for his turn.  He quickly shot through his arrows, keeping count as he shot.  He missed the target several times, but as released his last arrow he called out, “And that makes seventy points!” Both relief and glee were present in his voice.  “I’m moving back this time,” he added in an aside to Cirilli.  

Cirilli’s face beamed as she raced down the range to reclaim Vasilya’s arrows.  Running back, she handed them to him.  “Here’s yours, Boz.  The fletchings are still good,” she added as she eyed the farther shooting line, where Nevil stood waiting for her.  Taking Vasilya’s hand, she led him to the eighty foot line.  “Our new distance,” she whispered to herself.

Nevil caught the final score as Inman hugged her loosely from behind.  She smiled, “not bad, quite a few solid shots there.”

• Chapter 7:  Archery Practice Round 4

Cirilli stood at her new shooting line and concentrated on the target that was now eighty feet away.  Her hand shook as she reached for her first arrow, the tension building in her body as she contemplated the distance.  She looked up at Nevil and seemed to gather some control over her nervousness.  Reaching for her first arrow, she aimed, waited for the wind to die down and then let her arrow fly towards the target.  Her arrow landed in the fourth ring on the target.  

“Four points,” called Vasilya.  “Are you going to reshoot?” 

Cirilli shook her head as she reached for the next arrow.  Again concentrating she aimed and fired off her shot.  This arrow landed in the outside ring and Cirilli frowned as Vasilya called out a score of two points for the shot.  He looked at her again, raising an eyebrow in question.  

“The shot stands,” she declared as she reached for her next arrow.  

Vasilya nodded and called out, “Six points total.  Eight arrows left.”

Atalaya stepped up beside her and as she aimed for her next shot, Atalaya gently placed her hand over Cirilli’s hand that was holding the bow.  “You are overthinking this.  Relax.  Remember to keep this hand relaxed while you shoot.  When you squeeze as you are shooting the arrow will go to the side.” 

Cirilli nodded as she took a calming breath.  She shook out her hand and then grasped the bow, drew back her arrow and waited through another strong wind gust.  As it died down she loosed her arrow.  It flew straight and landed in the middle of the Bull’s Eye.  Cirilli pumped her fist in excitement as Vasilya called out, “Ten points!  Good shot Cirilli.  That is a total of sixteen points with seven arrows left.”

Looking at the target while grabbing her next arrow, she readied her next shot.  Waiting again for the wind to die down, she finally released her arrow and watched as it headed for the target.  Her breath held, she watched the arrow hit just outside the bull’s eye portion of the target.  Giving a wistful little sigh, she listened to Vasilya’s call of “Eight points.  That gives you a total of twenty four points. And you have six arrows left.”

Cirilli nodded to Vasilya as she picked up the next arrow.  Rubbing her fingers over the fletching, she straightened a barb that had twisted slightly on its last shot.  Looking it over carefully, she glanced at Atalaya and then quickly nocked and drew the arrow back, the bowstring touching at her chin.  Waiting, she released the arrow as the wind stilled once again.  She held her breath as the arrow made its way towards the target.  The arrow embedded itself next to her last arrow, the fletching of the two arrows messing together.  

“That’s another eight points!” Vasilya called out excitedly.  “You now have a total of 32 points and five arrows left.”  Vasilya moved to Atalaya’s side and placed his arm around her waist.  “She is shooting well,” he whispered to her.  Atalaya leaned into his support as she nodded.  

“She is.  The Greenleafs are obviously very good instructors.  For someone who has only had a bow in her hand for a few months, her form is good.  She’s developed a lot of strength recently and that is showing in her draws.  

Choosing her next arrow, Cirilli stood on her mark and eyed the target.  Concentrating on the target her hand squeezed the bow as she loosed the arrow.  “Four points,” called out Vasilya.  “Four arrows left and no reshoots used.  Do you want to reshoot this Cirilli?” At Cirilli’s head shake Vasilya continued, “Total of thirty six points with four arrows left.”  

Taking her time, Cirilli chose her next arrow and then carefully knocked and drew her arrow.  She slightly overdrew the arrow, almost as if she was hoping that more power would make it fly true to the center of the target.  However, her body was slightly out of alignment and she squeezed her hand while releasing the arrow.  She realized as she released that she was going to miss the target and started muttering under her breath as the arrow flew wide and past the target.  

“Missed the target,” called out Vasilya.  “Minus two points.  Are you going to try this shot again,” he asked. 

Cirilli nodded as readied herself again, taking a deep breath and correcting her form as she drew her next arrow.  As the breeze died down, she consciously relaxed her hand and shot.  This time the arrow flew towards the target and landed within the fourth circle.  

“Four points for a total of forty points.  You have three arrows left.” 

Cirilli nodded as she muttered under her breath, “Thirty four points.”  She readied her next shot, the tension showing in her stance as she readied her next shot.  Releasing quickly this arrow also missed the target as the bowstring snapped against her forearm.  

Seeing Cirilli’s frustration at her shooting, Atalaya stepped up next to her again.  “I’m glad you are wearing your vambraces.  Pay attention to your stance but then don’t over think your shot.  Relax, see the arrow hit the target and release.  You are doing well when you do these things.”

Cirilli looked at Atalaya.  “Why can’t I be consistent?  It feels like I am doing the same thing each time.”

“That’s why we practice and practice and practice, Cirilli.  You strengthen your control, you make the correct stance and grasp of the bow second nature and then you practice some more.  The better your long distance shooting gets, the more accurate you are going to be at shorter ranges.  Just as you are getting more accurate with your sword skills, you need to practice those over and over too.  Why do you think Nevil has you practicing on the pells?  Archery is the same.  That you can’t practice as often while we are sailing is a problem, so when we have time on land it is very important to do so.”  Atalaya watched her face trying to determine if Cirilli understood what she was trying to say.  She could tell that Cirilli was listening, but whether or not she understood and accepted what she was telling her, Atalaya wasn’t certain.  “Go ahead and take the shot over.”

As Cirilli stepped up to the shooting line and prepared her arrow, Atalaya watched her carefully.  “Now, before you shoot, feel your stance.  Where is your body?  Where is the bow?”  She continued to watch as Cirilli took a moment feeling her stance.  Atalaya reached out and moved Cirilli’s bow arm slightly, encouraging a slight bend at the elbow. 

Cirilli nods to herself and then relaxes as she takes in and then releases a deep breath, letting the tension leave her body as she readies her shot again.  Letting it fly the arrow flies and hits within the second circle of the target.  “Eight points,” she calls.  Then looking at Atalaya.  “So there is a reason for all that tensing and relaxing the muscles we do besides just meditation, isn’t there?”

Atalaya squeezed her shoulder.  “There is.  But would you have believed me before this?”

“I’m not sure,” Cirilli admitted.  “Relaxing helped though.  That was a better shot.”

“Forty eight total points called out Vasilya.  “Two arrows left to shoot.”

Cirilli set up her next shot and took a deep breath, relaxed again and then let her arrow fly.  The wind picked up again as the arrow flew towards the target, pushing it away from the target.  The arrow landed in the grass near the target.

“That was the wind, Cirilli.  Try again.”

Cirilli, nodded and reached for the next arrow.  She shook herself and carefully relaxing her muscles she nocked and drew the bow, aiming her arrow at the target.  Waiting for the wind to die down she focused on relaxing her hand and keeping her elbow just slightly bent. When the breeze died, she loosed the arrow and watched as it sped towards the target.  

“Eight points again,” called Vasilya.  “That totals 56 points with one arrow left.”

Again searching the target, she smiled to herself.  “Okay, one last arrow she, I can do this,” she coached herself.  “Relax, nock, draw and aim.  Oh, it’s getting windy, wait, wait, Now!”  The arrow flew again towards the target and she stared in disbelief as the firmly wedged into the bull’s eye, nestled up against her earlier one.  

“Bull’s eye!  That’s another ten points,” crowed Vasilya.  “You have a total of sixty six points and can move up to the next shooting distance.”

Cirilli nodded.  “Or forty points if I don’t count the reshoots.  Atalaya, do the reshoots count for making the seventy points needed for a magic arrow?  And will that offer be on the table later if I don’t make it today?”
“Yes, it will be available anytime we try this activity, until you earn the arrow.  Usually I would require the seventy points without any reshoots, but if you make it today, I will allow the reshoots.” 

Looking at Cirilli she asked, “So are you moving to the next line or do you want to try to reach seventy points today? “

Cirilli looked at the target and thought about her shooting today.  “I’m not going to get seven bull’s eyes today, no matter how well I shoot.  I’m moving to the next line.”  She grinned at Atalaya then, “And later on I’m going to master each of these ranges.  I’ll earn that arrow, just watch me.”

Atalaya ruffled her hair.  “I know you will.  That’s why I offered the prize.”

Nevil reluctantly slid from Inman's side and she stepped toward Cirilli.  “You don’t need seven perfect shots.  You only need ten consistently good shots.  Shooting is about consistency, letting your body fall into instinct, the same details of the same form over and over.  It's more mental then physical.  Think too much about it, and you ruin it.  That's why I am not counting points.  It's a distraction and it invites emotion into your shooting.”

Nevil grinned, “but I rant and should put something more than words down range.” 

Nevil counted her ten arrows and walked to the 100 foot mark.

Nevil took her time, each arrow was deliberate, each shot a physical recitation of form.  Cirilli could see Nevil make little adjustments while she held her draw.  Elbow angles, grip, breath, Cirilli could imagine what Nevil was seeing, why she was adjusting her form as she was.  

Nevil had finished the quiver.  The arrows all hit the target.  A cluster near the center and a smaller cluster to the mid right.  Nevil counted as she walked to retrieve the arrows.  

“58.” She said returning to the line.  “From this distance out, I pull right sometimes.  Old habits.  Any suggestions ladies?”

“Just keep practicing, and at longer distances.  My  longbow is accurate up to 120 feet with control.  And perhaps work on keeping your bow hand relaxed as you release your arrow.  That’s the same thing that Cirilli needs to work on.  Don’t tense up on release, that alters the aim.  But you are shooting a lot better than you lead me to believe you would.  You have had some good training.  Especially since you have been able to compensate for today’s wind gusts.”

Turning to Vasilya, Atalaya grinned.  “Your turn Vaz.  Can you match my ward at 80 yards?”  

Vasilya smirked at the women watching him prepare his arrows.  “We shall see, won’t we?”

“That we shall,” Atalaya calmly replied.  Her hand rested on his shoulder briefly before she stepped back to allow him to shoot.  

Vasilya reached for his first arrow and held it up, looking at it and then at Cirilli.  “I think I’ll try Nevil’s technique.  Let’s not score this round until I’ve shot all my arrows.”

Cirilli nodded.  “Okay Boz.  But I might have to get a little excited if you make any bull’s eyes.”

Vasilya rolled his eyes at Cirilli but then turned serious as he faced the target and nocked his first arrow.  Reading the wind he released the arrow and watched it hit the target before reaching for his next one.  His first four arrows hit the target in a close pattern a little high of the bull’s eye.  

Boz reached for the next, sighted and released.  This one landed solidly within the center of the target.  “Bull’s Eye!” shouted Cirilli, excitement thrumming through her body.  “That’s the way!”

Vasilya smiled and shot again.  The wind gusted as he released the arrow and it went wide of its mark, although it still landed within the scoring area of the target.  His last three shots all landed near each other on either side of the bull’s eye.  With the release of his last arrow he questioned Atalaya, “So is my shooting acceptable?”

Atalaya rolled her eyes and gently pushed him towards the target.  “A better question would be, is your shooting acceptable to you?  Go get your arrows and check their placements.  A couple of those are right along the dividing lines.  Then you can tell me.”

Cirilli looked uncertain at Atalaya’s words, but ran down the shooting line to start counting points, but waited for Vasilya to join her before actually  pulling any of the arrows out of the target.  “Seventy four points," she whispered to Vasilya.  “And no reshoots.  That was awesome.”

Vasilya ruffled her hair.  “Yes.  It felt good too.  I guess I’m moving up to the hundred yard line with you.”

“So?” asked Atalaya when they returned.

“He moves up with me!”  Cirilli handed the arrows back to Vasilya and grabbed her bow and headed towards Nevil and Inman at the one hundred foot line.  

"Indeed," Nevil smiled, "Boz, an impressive 74 points. Welcome up. I'm glad we aren't betting."  

Inman spoke half-under his breath as Boz approached, "Well some of us are."  Nevil feigned a disapproving glare and Boz raised a brow.  He leaned into Inman as Nevil turned her attention to Cirilli, "How much did you lose?"  

Inman chuckled, "I wouldn't say I lost."

Nevil encouraged Cirilli, "You got this Cirilli.”

Chapter 8:  Archery Practice Round 5

Cirilli stood at the hundred foot line, looking at the target.  Her mind a whirl of thoughts.   Atalaya looked over and then commanded.  “Shoot.  You are overthinking  it.  Look, draw, aim and release.  Focus on your form, don’t worry about the score.”  

Cirilli nodded, took a deep breath and then reached for her first arrow.  As she planted her feet and pulled in her abdominal muscles she drew the arrow and aimed.  The arrow flew down the course and thunked into the wooden target.  “Four points,” she said to herself as she readied the next arrow and let it fly.  “Four more points, for a total of eight points," Cirilli said with a little more authority in her voice.  “I can do this," she added to herself.

The next arrow went wide, hitting the very edge of the target.  “I’ll reshoot that.”  Cirilli let fly again and made a much better shot.  “That’s good,” she muttered to herself.  “Eight points, that’s sixteen total.”

Her next shoot went wide, missing the target, and she winced.  “I’ll reshoot that one too.”  She watched the arrow make its way towards the target and land in the middle rings.  “Six more points.  Let’s see, that is twenty two points total.”  Recounting her shots, Cirilli added, “Six arrows left.”  

Her next arrow hit the target but not within any of the rings.  Shaking her head, Cirilli reached for another arrow.  “Reshooting,” was all she said.  This arrow hit towards the edge of the circles.  “Four points for a total of twenty six points,  Five arrows left.”

Cirilli continued shooting, her arrows landing in a wide scatter although they were all within the scoring rings.  

“Sixty six points called out Vasilya, you can move back next time.”

Cirilli shook her head.  “Or fourty points.  That was really inconsistent.  I’m not sure that I should move back.”  She looked at Atalaya.  “What do you think?”
“I think that you have done well.  I’m happy with the instruction you have had already.  Your form is good for the number of months you have been working on archery.  What you need is more practice, in a variety of weather conditions and to work on increasing your range.    

Let’s let Nevil and Vasilya finish this round and then I have a new exercise for you.    

Nevil turned to Boz, though she was watching Inman as she spoke. "Join me on the 120 line for a little wager? Could be fun."  

Inman looked over playfully, “your luck can't hold out forever my dear.  Careful what you offer.”

Boz laughed loudly at Nevil’s offer.  “I’m already going to be at a disadvantage at the 100 feet line.  You are using Atalaya’s longbow.  Not an even competition.  If you want some direct competition you need to ask Atalaya.”

Nevil paused, "Ah, short bow. That's right.  Then choose a fair distance or I will switch to short bow too.  Atalaya and Cirilli are about to have some fun. Are you not feeling playful too?”

“I’d feel more playful if you were offering a contest with lock picking or second story work.  But, I have been hearing Atalaya talking to Cirilli about the sweet spot for the short bow is eighty feet, and that of the longbow is 120 feet.  Since we are both warmed up with the bows we have been using I wouldn’t want to change them.  Let’s each use our bows at those ranges.  If that is acceptable, I might be willing to make a little wager.  What were you thinking?”

Nevil shrugged, "Well, nothing crazy.  24 hour bragging rights, of course, and the loser washes dishes for Madrina? I mean she's been an incredible host considering.”

      Vasilya grinned.  “Deal,” he agreed.  “Bragging rights for the day to the winner and dish duty for the loser.  And, since I am such a gentleman, and it’s your turn anyway, you can go first.”  Catching Atalaya’s gaze he added, “Atalaya can be the judge if we need one.

      Atalaya nodded. “A little extra incentive is always a good thing.  Ten shots with no reshoots allowed.  Do you want to shoot all your arrows at once or alternate shooting?  

Nevil grinned, "alright!  No, no need to go one and one.  We're at different lines.  Let's just take our time and we can pull arrows together."

Inman offered, "I can judge the field."

Nevil smirked, and with a sarcastic tone, "that certainly isn't a recipe for a set up. But alright constable."

She bent and picked up a quiver, "I guess we are already here, so I might as well go first. " She turned back to see Inman appreciating her rear as he stood beside a more respectful, but not unnoticing Boz.  She quipped, "I expect your attentions on Boz to be as thorough, constable."  

Inman looked over to Boz, who gave him a suave brow raise.  They laughed.

Nevil began, but she couldn't get the idea of the boys cutting up behind her out of her mind. After a few wild shots, and one cast well short of the target, she got serious.  Refocusing, she remembered Atalaya’s advice.  Planting five of the last six shots in the center, she lowered her bow, "at least I finished well.  It looks like maybe 58 points?.”

Atalaya finished counting and looked at Nevil, “I think you must have missed some arrows.  That adds up to sixty six points.  Good shooting.”  Laughing she added, “You do not get to claim that your archery is rusty or below par again.”   

Nevil collected her arrows as Vasilya made his way to his own shooting line and began to ready himself for his turn.  “Sixty six points?  I can do this.  I just made more than that at this distance last time.”   He smiled sweetly at Nevil as she approached, her arrows in hand.  “Let me show you some real shooting," he quipped.  

Nevil looked at Atalaya with a little surprise, "Well, I haven't practiced in years.  When you're out of practice, you are never as good as you remember being."  Nevil turned to Boz, "at least I put up a decent fight to not give it away.  Go strut your stuff.”

Vasilya chuckled softly to himself as he pushed aside any distractions and focused on the target in front of him.  Then he relaxed his arm, pointing the arrow to the ground as several very disruptive wind gusts blew around the pasture.  “Great.  It would start up again just as it is my turn again.”  

After a couple very long minutes the breeze died down again and Vasilya repositioned himself and redrew his bow.  Sighting the target he let his arrow fly.  Quickly, before the wind could overly interfere with his shots he worked his way through all ten of his arrows.  As the last reached the target Cirilli sided up to him and asked in a whispered voice, “You were going easy on me, weren’t you.  Even when it got windy again you still hit the target.”

“Let’s go count the points before you start crowning me the winner.  Some of those are very close to the actual rings.”  Then looking sternly at her he added, “You are my “Little Warrior” and Atalaya’s  ‘Daughter of My Heart’ but when training, I never do less than my best.  This is our life, our way of living, of providing for ourselves and Atalaya would say making a difference in our world.  To do that, to stay alive and to keep those I love safe, I need my skills to be the best they can be.  Slacking during training does not achieve that.”

Cirilli contemplated Boz’s words as she reached the target.  She counted the points quickly.   “Seventy points!  That’s seventy right?  The last arrow was just within the four point circle, right?.”

Atalaya, her hand on Cirilli’s shoulder as she leaned over her to check the scoring nodded.  “That’s right, four points.  That is a total of seventy points.  Vaz wins this contest.”  

“A kiss for the victor,” she added as she gave him a quick peck on the check.  

“That is not a kiss,” Vaz growled as he turned her around to face him and then leaned in for a full kiss on the lips.  “That’s a kiss,” he explained afterwards. 

Cirilli rolled her eyes at their antics.  

Nevil smiled at the joy between Atalaya and Boz. She looked over at Inman, who was looking at her smiling.  "It looks like you're on dish duty," he teased.  Nevil stepped closer as she corrected him.  "You mean WE have dish duty."  Inman began to lightly protest but Nevil cut in, "The price of your loss to me, my dear."  Inman grinned and took her hand, "Well, I guess we shall suffer together."

Nevil looked to Atalaya, "I'm spent.  Were you going to shoot today?”

“Of course.”  Atalaya took her bow from Nevil as she handed it back.  Atalaya restrung her bow and looked through her arrows, picking out 15 arrows.  I’m just going to take a couple of shots to warm up as she made her way to the 120 foot line.  Picking up two arrows, she shot them both off quickly, hitting the target with each but neither was a very spectacular shot. 

“Cirilli,” she called.  “Please retrieve those arrows for me.”  Cirilli quickly ran down the course and pulled out the two arrows and returned to the group gathered around Atalaya.

 After Cirilli returned, Atalaya took another moment to ground herself deeply into the earth and to attend to the breeze lightly blowing across her face.  Nodding to herself, Atalaya adjusted her grasp slightly and then quickly shot off ten arrows, two at a time until she finished the ten.  “Shall we check the target?” she asked.  

Cirilli sprinted towards the target as the adults started walking.  As Atalaya approached the target Cirilli quickly counted up her points.  “Seventy two points!  And look!  This one was dead in the center and then you split the arrow with this one.”  Cirilli’s eyes shone with excitement.  And you shot so fast.  And I know the wind picked up at times.”  Looking at the two outlying arrows.  “I’ll bet that is when you shot these.”  She pulled the two arrows out of the target board.  “How did you do that?”  She removed the rest of the arrows from the target and gave them to Atalaya, keeping the split arrow for herself.”

Atalaya looked at Cirilli and then smiled.  Vaz did a double take.  “What are you up to?” he whispered in her ear.

Atalaya chuckled softly, not meeting Vaz’s eyes.  “Practice, Cirilli.  Practice is always the answer.  So…” and her countenance took on the sternness of a weapon master, “it’s time to really practice.”  

Turning to Vasilya she asked, “Are you willing to help, Vaz?”  

“You want me to help with an archery lesson?  Are you sure?”

Atalaya nodded.  “Of course.  So here is what you two are going to do.  Vaz is going to move over to the next target.  This is a race.  On my mark you will both shoot two arrows as quickly as you can at the target starting at the 40 foot line.  Then run to the 60 foot line and shoot two more arrows and then finally run to the 80 foot line and shoot two more.  After the last person shoots their second arrow I’ll call out again.  Run back to the starting line and repeat twice more.  Wait for me to release you to run back to the 40 foot line.  This means that whoever finishes their arrows first may get a short rest before having to run again.  After three rounds we will stop and you can count your score if you choose.”  Looking at Cirilli, Atalaya explained, “This is to teach you to move while shooting.  Frequently in battle, you need to move, change as the fight changes, either to keep your target in sight/range or to find cover when needed.  Today you have two  goals.  First, to get each of your arrows somewhere on the target.  As you get better at this we will look at the accuracy of your shots.  The second is to finish before Vaz.”

“Hit the boards.  Be faster than Boz.”  Cirilli's face took on a crafty expression as she looked at Vasilya.  I only have to be faster on the last round then.  “Sure.  Are you ready Boz?” Cirilli headed for her starting line.  

Vasilya leaned into Atalaya, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”  Seeing the concern on his face she added.  “Her form is good.  She can do this.  She needs to be able to do this if she is going to fight with us.  She is starting to experiment with getting more shots off during combat.  But she tends to take too much time between shots.  She needs to let it become a natural movement to fire off two shots right after each other.  I think both of you are going to be surprised with her accuracy if she lets herself embrace the exercise.  Although I think she is already considering adding in a little time between shots on the first two rounds.  

Vasilya laughed softly.  “Yes, that is something she might try.  But she’s competitive.  I don’t think she will be able to maintain it, if I get too far ahead of her.”  Vasilya headed off towards his starting line, restrung his bow and waited for Atalaya to call the start.

Seeing that they were both ready, Atalaya called out, “Fire!”

The arrows flew towards the targets.  Quickly Vasilya headed towards the second firing line as Cirilli aimed and took her second shot.  When she reached the sixty foot line Vasilya was already headed towards the third line.  Gulping she quickly shot off her two arrows and ran to the final line.  Vasilya stood waiting for her to finish and for Atalaya to send them towards the starting line.  

Cirilli reached the starting line seconds before Vasilya and quickly shot her arrows.  They ran together towards the sixty foot line.  Again they fired their arrows and raced to the eighty foot line.  More arrows flew and their heads turned towards Atalaya.  

“Go!” she shouted and again they raced back to the starting line.  This time they were almost shooting in tandem as they released their arrows and headed for the final line and their last two shots.  Vasilya got his second shot off and lowered his bow just seconds before Cirilli did so.  

Atalaya called them both over.  Good shooting, both of you.  Vasilya was just a bit faster today, but neither of you missed the target.  Good work Cirilli.”  Atalaya tugged lightly on one of her hair braids.  “I’m very impressed, Daughter of my Heart.   At Vasilya’s pout, she ruffled his hair.  “You did very well too, Iubet.  I think you hit the bull’s eye with all six of your last round arrows.”  

Turning back to Cirill,  “I shall have to give both Cirdan and Joan my heartfelt thanks.  They did a great job with your archery training.  Go count your points.  I think you are going to be surprised at your total.”

Cirilli made her way to her target and quickly counted her arrows.  “I made 140 points.”  Her surprise was evident and she started recounting the arrows.  “Yes, 140 points.”  

“See,” teased Atalaya.  Next time you can race all three rounds.”

Cirilli nodded.  “Let’s see what Boz did.”  She made her way over to Vasilya's target as Atalaya trailed after her.  She began counting, hesitating only occasionally with the math, but never miscounting the points.  “152 points!”  She looked at Atalaya.  “Can I try your longbow?”

Atalaya scanned her and mentally calculated her height and arm length.  “I think you still have a bit of growing to do before you can comfortably use a longbow, but you can try drawing it, just to see.”

Atalaya took her back to the eighty foot line.  And motioned everyone back behind Cirilli.  “Try just drawing the sting without an arrow present,” Atalaya coached.

Atalaya strung her bow again and handed it to Cirilli.  Cirilli tried to draw it, getting it partially to her check.  Atalaya adjusted her stance slightly, brought her arms into position and urged her to try pulling back a bit farther.  After a moment she lowered the bow and then handed it back to Atalaya.  “I’m going to keep working on getting stronger.  I didn’t realize that it was hard to draw.”  

“You’ll get there, sweetheart.  I can barely believe how much you have learned in just a few months.”

“I want to see you shoot again.  Won’t you shoot another round?  Please?”

“Alright.  But not as an exhibition.  I’ll do a real practice round.”  Atalaya walked to the 160 feet line.  “I’ve been working on improving my accuracy at this distance.”  Atalaya carefully checked her arrows and switched out a couple of them.  She centered herself and grounded herself and then looked down the range to the target.  The wind swirled around her briefly and then mostly quieted down.  Occasional puffs of breeze would cross her cheek.  Taking a steadying breath, she reached for her first arrow and let it fly.  She continued shooting, not stopping for the variance of the wind, even when a couple of the arrows missed the target.  After her last shot, she unstrung the bow and headed towards the target to retrieve the arrows. 

Cirilli ran ahead and had the arrows counted before the others arrived.  “Fifty two points.  That would be enough to move back.  How did you do that?  It got really breezy while you were shooting.”  

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.  What is your secret, Atalaya?”

“Grounding and centering.  The initial parts of meditation.  I was always better at doing that when I was using my bow.  It’s like what I have learned to do while doing the katas on the ship.”

Giving a very theatrical sigh, she rolled her eyes and then said, “Meditation.  I’m going to have to learn that, aren’t I?  But what if I don’t want to have anything to do with the gods?”

“Meditation is not prayer or worship.  It’s a discipline.  Used by rangers and other fighters.  It’s learning to control your body.  Yes, some people use it when praying, but again it is a tool and their choice to use it in that way.”  Nodding to Vasilya, she angled Cirilli away from the others.  “What is troubling you?”

“I don’t want to worship any of the gods.  They did nothing to help me.  I don’t need them.  I’m not going to worship them.  But you said Gwaeron Windstrom was there today and you said something about his accepting me as a ranger.  Does he think that means I am going to worship him?  Or do you think that?”

Atalaya wiped all signs of mirth from her face.  “No, it doesn’t.  Remember, he isn’t a god, but a servant to a goddess.  He is interested in training rangers, not in being worshipped.  He probably wouldn’t know what to do if you tried that.  Giving devotion to a god or goddess should always be something that you want to and decide to do.  I would never require you to worship any of the goddesses or gods that I worship or revere.  It will always be your choice.  But I will give you one additional thing to think about as you consider the gods.  Why did we make it back to Parabor when we did and find our way to you?  Could we have been an answer to a call for help?”

At Cirilli’s rebellious look, Atalaya placed her hand on her check, turning her head up so that Cirilli looked into her eyes.  “I will never require you to worship any of the gods or goddesses.  That is not devotion and I do not believe forced compliance is something that they want either.  I’ll not hide my own devotion from you, but I will never require it of you.  Nevil will not require it of you.  Gwaeron has accepted you as a ranger.  That does not mean you need to worship him.  You do need to learn the skills that he chooses to help teach you though.  He is a master tracker and shares his knowledge with those who are ready to learn.  If you don’t believe me, ask Joan when we return home.”

 Cirilli sighed as Atalaya pulled her into a hug.  “Any more concerns?”  When she shook her head Atalaya asked, “Questions?”  Cirilli shook her head again.  “Then don’t think about it for a bit.  Did you bring one of your new books with you?  Maybe you should read a bit before dinner and let your mind relax.”

“I did bring one of them with me.  But maybe I should help with making dinner?”

“Read, child.  You worked hard this morning and this afternoon.  Check your equipment and then take some time for yourself, as long as Nevil has no training tasks for you.”

Cirilli slipped her hand into Atalaya’s hand.  “I’d like to read some,” she admitted.  The two walked into the manor hand in hand.