Moments

Moment of Competition

I twisted to the side and tested the bowstring, aiming a phantom arrow at the unimpressed hart in our stable. Pleased, I handed it to the soldier and said, "There, that's how you do it."

"Uh, thank you," he said, turning the bow over in his hand as if it were about to bite him.

Cassandra grunted, grateful that the matter was settled and returned to Cullen. "Commander, another round?"

He smiled and rose up from his seat on the well, shaking off any weariness. He moved to unsheathe his blade, but paused to glare at the sun. "Give me a moment," he said. Without any concern for people watching who could become easily distracted, he yanked the shift over his head. Sweat glistened across his alabaster skin, getting perhaps its first dose of sunlight in years. Tossing the shift out of the way, he lifted his sword towards Cassandra, flexing a bicep chiseled from its own ironbark.

I watched transfixed at the lines of his body as muscle rose to meet against each of Cassandra's blows. She; however, seemed unaffected by the display, carrying on a polite conversation while attacking him. Blessed creators, even his pants twisted with each move, exposing hidden thigh muscles normally eclipsed by his armor.

"Inquisitor?"

The fighters met in combat, shield against shield. Cullen spun around exposing back muscles I wanted to bight into.

"Inquisitor!"

"Wha?" The crying plea broke me from the spell and I turned to find the soldiers literally tied up. A bow dangled off the line running from one soldier's ear to the other's foot of all things. "How did you..." I stuttered trying to find sense.

"Could you show us how to string these again?"

"Slower, please," the second soldier added.

Unknotting both of them I nodded, "Sure. Here, we take this loop and..."

They watched enraptured as I paused in each step and explained them. Then, for good measure, I repeated the whole procedure two more times. When the soldiers finally felt prepared enough to strike out on their own, I turned back to find the show ended. Cassandra shook Cullen's hand, "Not bad, Commander. Though you're still leaving your left flank open."

"And you put all your weight on your right foot when back swinging."

I picked up one of the strung bows, and twanged it. "Is it my turn?" I asked, drawing their attention.

Cassandra held her hands up, "I know better than to challenge someone to an archery contest."

Cocking an eye, I turned to Cullen, "What about you? Or did you only learn knife play in the templars?"

He dropped his shield and wiped his hands along his pants, "I've done a bit of shooting in the past."

"That's a yes, then?" I smiled, throwing him a bow. I pointed to the few targets stationed beside the wall. Dummies stuffed with straw, but someone took the time to paint circles on the vital organs of face and middle of the chest. Both were about thirty feet away.

Sliding my boot across the ground, I drew a line in the dirt. "Won't we need arrows?" Cullen asked, stepping beside me and straddling the line. He pricked at the string like a lutist facing down her first performance.

I smiled at him and pushed aside some of the grass beside the wall. A full quiver sat beside it. While jamming each arrow into the ground, I said, "The good thing about living in a hold, it's easy to find arrows."

"Daggers too," Cassandra said. She slid back to the safety behind us and leaned against the well. "An entire barrel's worth."

"I talked to Cole about that," I said, notching an arrow. "I still don't get what he needs a wheel of cheese for."