HALT, GILAN AND MADDIE STOOD IN THE WEAPONS PRACTICE yard of the Araluen Battleschool. For the purposes of this demonstration, Halt had requested that Horace and Cassandra stay away. He knew there was friction between the girl and her parents and he didn’t want that to interfere with her concentration.
Maddie looked curiously at Halt. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she’d watched him set two old jousting helmets on posts about seventy meters from where they stood. He smiled at her.
“Gilan is interested in a potential new weapon for the Corps,” he told her.
“I thought you might be the best person to demonstrate it.”
“You mean the sling?” she said, glancing down at the double leather thongs in her right hand. When he arranged her temporary release from detention, Halt asked her to bring her sling and a supply of the ammunition she used.
“Exactly. Now, Gilan, would you agree that this would seem to be the optimum range for shooting at an armored man?”
Gilan nodded. The longbow could shoot much farther than seventy-five meters, of course. But at this range, it would still have the power and hitting force to send an arrow smashing through an enemy’s steel helmet. And if the shooter missed, there would still be time for another shot.
Not that Rangers often missed—if ever.
“Then let’s see you do it,” Halt said to Gilan.
Gilan raised his bow and, with a smooth, automatic action that came from years of practice, brought an arrow from the quiver over his shoulder and laid it on the string. Without seeming to take aim, he raised the bow, drew and
They heard the resounding clang as the arrow hit the left-hand helmet, punching through the steel at what would be forehead level. The helmet leapt and spun off the post, transfixed by the arrow, and rolled in the dust of the practice yard.
“Slow,” said Halt.
Gilan turned a pained eye on him. “I’d like to see you do better,” he challenged.
Halt allowed himself a faint smile. “Unfortunately, I’ve left my bow in our apartment,” he said, and Gilan sniffed. Halt glanced at Maddie. “So we’ll leave the second target to you, young lady.”
Maddie slipped the loop at one end of the sling around the middle finger of her right hand, then gripped the plaited end of the other thong between her thumb and forefinger. As she did this, she took a lead shot from the pouch at her belt and fitted it into the leather patch in the middle of the sling. Halt noted with approval that she did so without looking. Her eyes, slightly narrowed, were focused on the helmet at the far end of the practice yard.
She turned side on, advancing her left leg toward the target, and let the shot dangle behind her body, at the end of the two thongs. She swung the sling in a slow pendulum motion several times, making sure the shot was firmly settled in its pouch. She pointed her left arm and hand toward the target, then whipped her right arm up in an overhand-throwing action, her arm moving in a rapid arc about twenty degrees from the vertical and her body following through on the cast. As she reached the point of release, she let go of the knotted end from between her thumb and forefinger. The shot flew out of the sling, the power of her throw magnified several times by the extra length and leverage that it added to the action.
CLANG!
The second helmet spun crazily on the pole, then came to rest on a drunken angle.
Gilan nodded, impressed. “Not bad.”
He led the way down the practice yard to examine the result of her throw.
There was an enormous dent in the helmet, also at forehead height. Some traces of bright silver metal were sprayed across the steel.
“Didn’t penetrate,” he said, chewing his lip thoughtfully.
Halt touched the massive dent in the helmet. “No. But would you care to have your head inside that helmet when this happened?”
“It definitely wouldn’t do the wearer a lot of good,” Gilan conceded. He rubbed his finger on the splash of silver metal. “What are you using as ammunition?” he asked. Maddie took another projectile from the pouch at her belt and handed it to him. Gilan was momentarily surprised at the weight.
“Lead shot,” she said.
“That seems to do the trick.” He held out his hand and she passed him the sling. He examined it.
“So simple,” he said. “And so deadly.” He handed it back. “You use a different technique from your mother’s. I seem to recall that she spun it round and round, horizontally?” He demonstrated, waving his right hand above his head in a flat circle.
Maddie shrugged disparagingly. “Not a good technique,” she said. “I don’t know how she ever hit anything. It’s so hard to judge when you’re spinning it horizontally.”
“Oh, she hit plenty of things,” Halt told her. “But she had to practice for hours to get any sort of accuracy.”
“This is more efficient,” Maddie said. “And besides, if you stand up whirling the sling around your head two or three times, you’re making a target of yourself.”
“Good point,” Halt conceded. “How many shots can you get away in a minute?”
Maddie pushed out her bottom lip uncertainly. “I have no idea,” she said.
“I’ve never timed myself.”
“Then let’s see, shall we?” Halt told her. He stopped and picked up the helmet Gilan shot, pulling the arrow loose and returning it to the Ranger Commandant. Then he replaced the helmet on its post and gestured for Maddie to return to the shooting line.
“All right. Alternate between the two and we’ll see how fast you are,” he told her. “But, remember, fast is no good if you aren’t accurate. If you’ve got a big, nasty Iberian pirate coming at you with a cutlass, it’s no good missing him five times in rapid succession. Better to hit him once, slowly.”
She smiled at him. “Point taken.” She set her feet, reached into the ammunition pouch and loaded a shot into the sling. Once again, she let it swing slowly back and forth for a few seconds.
“Begin!” Halt called. Gilan’s lips moved as he began silently counting off the seconds.
She let fly with the shot, and before it struck the target, she was loading
another into the sling. This time, she didn’t bother with those short preliminary swings but brought her arm up and over almost immediately. As she released, they heard the CLANG of her first shot hitting home. Then she was reloading and snapping her arm up and over once more, aiming at the first target again.
CLANG! CLANG! . . . CLANG! CLANG!
“Stop shooting!” Halt called as Gilan threw up his hand. She had managed to get six shots away in the minute he had counted to himself, although the fourth projectile had missed its target.
“Five out of six,” he commented thoughtfully. “Not bad at all.”
Maddie turned and confronted the two Rangers, her feet set apart, her hands on her hips.
“Care to tell me what this is all about?” she challenged, looking from one to the other. As Halt opened his mouth to reply, she waved a hand to stop him.
“And don’t tell me some fairy tale about Gilan assessing the sling as a new weapon. If you were merely interested in the sling, why would you care how fast I can shoot?”
Gilan and Halt exchanged a quick look. It wasn’t wasted on Maddie. But neither said anything.
“It’s pretty obvious that you’re testing me, not the weapon. The question is, why?”
“Maybe that’s something your parents should discuss with you,” Halt said finally.
Maddie sighed deeply. “Mum and Dad? All they’re interested in is keeping me cooped up. You know I’m confined to quarters for another week, don’t you?”
A smile touched the corners of Halt’s mouth. “I’d heard some rumor to that effect. And of course, there’s no good reason why they’ve done that, is there?”
Maddie rolled her eyes and sighed resignedly. “Oh, all right. Maybe I did sneak out and go hunting once or twice . . .”
Halt raised an eyebrow and she amended the statement.
“Five or six times then. And maybe I was just a little cheeky when they talked to me about it.”
The eyebrow, which had just returned to its normal position, went up again.
“All right, maybe I was a little more than that,” she admitted.
“They’re only doing what they think is best for you, Maddie,” Halt told her gently. She dropped her eyes and scuffed her boot in the sand of the practice yard.
“I kno-ow,” she said unhappily. “But do they have to treat me like a precious princess all the time?”
“Well, you are a princess—and you are priceless to them,” Halt said.
“And to all of us, as a matter of fact.”
He liked Maddie. Over the years, they had formed a close bond. Gilan was aware of this. That’s why he had decided to stay out of this discussion and leave it to Halt.
In spite of herself, Maddie smiled faintly. “You always manage to tie me up in knots.”
Halt took her hand. “All I’m saying is that they care about you. They don’t mean to be so overprotective, but it’s hard for them to let go of the reins. They know it too. But, believe me, they are trying and they’ve had an idea.”
“Which you won’t tell me about?”
“No. It’s not up to me to do that. You should hear it from them.”
Maddie took a deep breath. “Then let’s go back to the keep and they can tell me,” she said. “Assuming I passed whatever test you just set me?”
Halt looked at Gilan. “I think she passed, don’t you?”
Gilan smiled at the young princess. “Oh yes. I think so.”
