Awry

16

Gabriel let his arrow fly, hitting the center of the target ahead of him. Standing a few yards away, Tristan did the same, a direct hit against his own target.

The grand archery tournament was just weeks away and Gabriel had entered for the title. Tristan had opted out, but insisted on practicing against Gabriel at every opportunity.

Because Tristan thought he was better.

Ha.

Gabriel drew back another arrow. “I saw you venture to the eastern woods the other day.” He let the arrow sail. “What do you travel there for?”

Tristan pulled back and shot another arrow as well. “Hunting.”

Gabriel cocked his head. “In the eastern woods?”

Tristan shrugged, reaching for another arrow. “I like a challenge.”

What that a hint of a smile on Tristan’s face?

Gabriel slanted his eyes at his twin. The eastern woods were the least ideal of all the land, especially for hunting. Gabriel knew Tristan appreciated isolation when he hunted but…still. The eastern woods? It did not seem likely.

Gabriel found another arrow and the brothers continued shooting for a few minutes.

“Have you caught any decent game lately?” Gabriel asked.

“A few deer, some rabbits. Not much more.” Tristan didn’t look at Gabriel as he spoke.

Something was off in his story.

Gabriel looked at his twin. “I’ve not seen you return home with any meat this month.”

Tristan paused, just briefly, but long enough for Gabriel to know he was lying.

Gabriel’s face broke out into a large grin. “You are hiding something, brother. What is it?”

Tristan looked at him with a raised brow. “If I hide anything, then it is meant to stay secret, is it not?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, trying to guess his brother’s secret. “What is in the eastern woods for you? Money?” His eyes lit up. “Is it a girl?”

Tristan said nothing as he drew back another arrow with a tight mouth.

“It isa girl!” Gabriel laughed heartily. “And here I thought you were incapable of loving anything outside of your weapons. My brother, the romantic, sneaking off to the eastern woods for love.” Gabriel laughed again. “Who is this woman? Would I like her?”

“She is not a witch, if that is what you’re asking,” Tristan quipped.

Gabriel shook his head. “Raven is not a witch.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “She practices spells and curses and God knows what else.”

“Well, I like her.” Gabriel shrugged and returned to shooting. “She is attractive and far more interesting than the mundane women of court.”

Tristan stopped shooting and gave Gabriel a knowing smile. “And she is the very last person father wants you to marry.”

Gabriel smiled back. “Exactly.”

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

The next day, Scarlet exited her small hut with her bow and quiver as the early sun peeked through the trees. It was a beautiful morning.

Birds chirped out their happy songs, dew rested atop the green leaves of spring, and a handsome man stood in her yard. Waiting.

Scarlet wanted to growl. “You seem to have misunderstood me when I asked you never to return.” She brushed past the hunter and made her way into the trees.

He traveled alongside her, his own bow clutched in his hand.

“I have made a decision.” He sounded lighthearted. “If you refuse to hunt with me, then I shall follow you through the forest and hunt with you.”

“You are mad.” Scarlet stepped over a rock. “And slightly annoying.”

“Just slightly?” He smiled. “I feel I am already making progress with you.”

“I do not hunt with others.” Scarlet picked up her pace.

The hunter kept up easily. “Nor do I. But I think we can benefit from each other’s company.”

“I doubt that.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Another one?” Scarlet mocked a smile. “You are quick with your proposals. Is that what you do in your castle? Propose things all day while you eat your giant turkeys and drink wine from the vineyards of Zeus?”

“Of course not. I only drink wine from the vineyards of Aphrodite.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “If your proposal includes joke-telling, consider me uninterested.”

He showed off his dimples.

Why did he have to be so attractive? Why couldn’t he be repulsive?

“My proposal is this,” he began. “If you let me hunt with you, I will carry all your kills.”

Scarlet stopped walking and looked at him. “Why?”

“Because I am much larger and stronger than you.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Why are you so desperate to hunt with me?”

The hunter looked down at her sincerely. “Because I want to keep you alive.”

He was a fool.

But….

Scarlet thought his offer over. If someone were to carry her kills, she could bring even more food back to her mother.

Scarlet narrowed her eyes. “You would help me hunt on your father’s land? Take what is rightfully his?”

Tristan nodded.

“And you would not tell anyone of my home or my mother?”

“Not a soul.”

She took a deep breath. “Very well. We will hunt together.”

He smiled triumphantly.

“But I get to lead the way,” she said, turning her nose in the air as she plowed through the trees.

“Of course you do.”

With her back to him, she heard the smile in his voice and pictured his dimples.

Agh. Beautiful men in the forest were always trouble.

That night, Tristan entered the main hall of the Archer estate where his father waited for him with a goblet in his hand.

“How are you today, my son?” his father asked.

Cornelius Archer was a round man with a red face and a great affection for wine. He wasn’t evil. But neither did he strive to be good. “Have you been busy feeding the poor and throwing my money to beggars?”

Tristan ignored the question. “What is it you wanted to see me about?”

“You will be eighteen soon.” Cornelius stood up straight. “And the king has requested the finest archers in the land to join his army as he overtakes the monasteries.”

Overtaking monasteries?

Well, that sounded like a good way to go to Hell.

Tristan frowned. “Which monasteries?”

“All of them.” Cornelius shrugged. “The king wants land and the monks have land. So he is serving them eviction notices.” Cornelius lifted the goblet to his lips and took a swig of wine. “But you can imagine how well that’s going. So the king is out for blood instead, which is a far more effective way to do business, if you ask me.”

Tristan wasn’t asking him.

Kicking monks out of their homes didn’t sound very noble. Or maybe it did and that was the problem.

“What does this have to do with me?” Tristan shifted his weight.

Cornelius smiled. “You and Gabriel are the best archers England has.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Tristan said dryly. “We’ve only been forced to practice our skill every day since we were three years old.”

“Exactly.” Cornelius pointed at him. “The Archer family name is legendary and the king wants you.”

“No,” Tristan said.

Cornelius laughed. “Oh, my son. My very silly son. You do not say no to the king.”

Tristan shook his head. “The king has his pick of every archer around. Tell him I am sick or mad. Tell him I am dead. I do not wish to fight for him.”

“What has gotten into you?” Cornelius swung his goblet as he gestured at Tristan, wine sloshing over the rim and onto the stone floor. “Lately, you’ve been acting strange. And Gabriel tells me you are not participating in the archery tournament this year?”

Tristan shrugged. “I do not wish to travel.” There was a certain girl in the eastern woods he had hunting plans with.

Cornelius puckered his lips. “And now you refuse to fight for the king? Do you hate archery so much?”

Rolling his eyes, Tristan said, “Of course not. I simply do not wish to fight in his army.”

“You must, Tristan. You and Gabriel are the best archers in the land. It’s in your blood. It is your duty. The Archers have always served the king.”

“I will not do it.” Tristan turned to leave.

“You will,” Cornelius called out, but Tristan ignored him.

Fight in the king’s army? Never.