The bark of a tree splits as an arrow slams into the trunk, lodging itself deep into the wood.
“Not bad,” Saul commented, standing behind Holden. “Remember, if you wish to take life with your bow, you must forfeit your own life to the bow. Let it become not a tool, but a part of your very being.”
Picking up another arrow, Holden drew his bow back, and steadied his breathing to suppress involuntary movements. Then, with a single motion, he released his arrow. It soared through the air, and slammed into the bark, right next to the arrow prior. He was not surprised by his accuracy. He had been undergoing this training for a few months, now, working from sunrise to sunset. With each passing day, his precision improved, his concentration grew, and his motions became more fluent.
“Your grouping seems consistent. To say you’ve improved after all this time is an understatement.” Saul clasped Holden’s shoulder. “Well, that’s honestly all I have to show you as an archer, Holden.”
“Pardon?” Holden looked at Saul, confused. “You merely taught me how to aim and fire.”
“Were you raised to believe that archers did elsewise?” Saul chuckled softly, and shook his head. “Unfortunately, that is all you will do, cut and dry. You fire a volley of arrows on command, and little more.” He approached the tree, inspecting the arrows. “It’s a shame, that. You’ve got quite the knack for marksmanship. I’m sure your arrows will always find their target.”
“My father spoke highly of you. How did you earn so much respect if you were in such a passive role?” Holden followed Saul, his brow furrowed. Something was not right. “What are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing,” answered Saul. Ripping the arrows from the bark, he inspected them closely for signs of wear. “You asked for the training to become an archer, and that is what I have given you.” There was a pause, before Saul cleared his throat. “You would do well to know that there is another occupation in the military that requires a specialty with a bow. You never asked what I did in my time of service.”
“Then tell me.” A voice in the back of Holden’s head echoed his father’s words, to become an archer, and nothing more. However, his heart yearned to earn the honor Saul had during his service, and curiosity desired to see the world in Saul’s perception.
“As you no doubt have learned from the simplicity of being an archer, there is little hope to be distinguished for your bravery there.” Finding the condition of the arrows satisfactory, Saul began to clean them with a rag. “My mission was to survey areas before the expeditionary forces arrived. It reduced the risk of getting ambushed, and dispelled the enemy’s advantage of knowing the battlefield. However, recognition of my gift in stealth made my list of duties grow. I began stalking, recording and.. removing patrols, raiding small camps, and causing complete mayhem.”
“That’s impressive. What was your role?”
“I was part of On’hino’s experimental scout forces,” Saul explained, “those sent in before the tip of the spear. The astounding success produced from my subterfuge made the scout units a permanent force in service to On’hino. If you’re interested, we’ll see about training you for that path. Be warned, very few ever succeed in the training alone. And the fieldwork itself is much more difficult.”
Holden nodded. Surely, being a scout was more dangerous than being an archer, but his family would be treated as just a step below royalty. Except, he would not gamble away his fortune like Saul. He followed Saul back to the cottage, stopping to feel the cool gust of wind sliding across his back. The First Frost drew near. “Actually, I may stop by my family’s farm, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind.” Saul stopped and turned around to face Holden. “Part of your training is to develop mental toughness, scout or not. It’ll do you no good if your home is fresh in your mind. You’ll grow complacent, and complacency will get you killed.”
“And what of their crops? Do you want me to leave them to rot?”
“Your father is a man who is far from incompetent, even in his present state. I’ll go there myself as well, so quit your worrying.” Saul gave Holden’s shoulder a pat, before a sudden, shrill whistle took his attention. He whistled in correspondence, and watched several people emerge from the treeline. “It seems that supper will have to wait.”
“If the timing was poor, I can take this lot back later,” one of the people -- a grizzly, muscular man -- suggested.
“No,” replied Saul, “I’d go soft if everything was at my convenience. Besides, this will make for an ample time to introduce you all to Holden, another pupil of mine.”
“Holden?” The burly man looked at Holden. “He’s a tad young for this. You’re not making this place a nursery, are you?” He chuckled, and offered Holden a hand. “Tamef, pleased to meet some fresh blood. You know how to live in the wilderness? How far has Saul taken you?”
“He has only taught me archery so far,” Holden answered.
“Well, that’s an important skill to master as well,” Tamef said, glancing at Saul.
“Indeed. Without the ability of the bow, living out in the wilderness becomes much harder.” Saul rubbed his chin for a moment, before beckoning Tamef closer. He leaned in to whisper, and Tamef’s eyes shot wide.
“You can’t be serious,” Tamef exclaimed, gesturing to Holden. “That boy is too soft--”
“Then harden him.” Saul opened the door to his home, and gave Holden a grin. “If you’re so deadset on learning, go with Tamef. He’ll take you to live in the wilderness for a while.”
“What?” Confused by the sudden development, Holden looked at Saul for further explanation. “I thought you were going to teach me.”
“You’ll be wedded to inconvenience as a scout,” said Saul. “So, accept that things will often resign themselves from your plan. Now, are you going with Tamef, or are you going to give up before we even start?”
Holden sighed, and approached Tamef. “Where do we being?”
“Maybe by at least feigning some excitement?” Tamef grinned, and motioned for Holden to follow him. The others he arrived with were already gone, though there was no blatant signal to send them off. “Where did you come from?” asked Tamef.
“A small farm, not too far from here.” Holden looked around, finding himself plunging into the depths of the forest. “I asked Saul for archery lessons, so that I may become a soldier--”
“A soldier” Tamef raised an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder at Holden. “For what reason do you wish to fight under the banner?”
“So that my family can move off of the farm, and into the cities. Maybe even a manor, all the way in Okeluiso.” Holden smiled at the thought, not only of luxury for himself, but for his mother and father. There would be no more endless labor, or fear that there would be no food on the table.
“So you’re going to become a scout, one who goes through the worst of it all, just so you can live your life in a fancy house?” Tamef was quiet for a moment, before letting out a howl of laughter. “To each his own, I suppose.”
“And why do you want to serve as a scout?”
“I never said I did,” Tamef replied once he got his laughter under control. He led Holden further into the woods, until it became difficult to tell where they were at all. “Needless to say, a scout is nowhere near field-worthy if he can’t tell which way is up, or where in the Nine Hells he is. So, I’ll leave you here.” Tamef slipped a pack free of his back, and dropped it in front of Holden. “You will sleep here tonight, and by sunset tomorrow, I expect you to arrive at my camp.”
“Wait,” Holden pleaded, “I don’t know how to navigate in the woods. How am I supposed to get to you?”
“Now’s a great time to learn.” Tamef set down his bow and quiver. “You bring this back in the best shape possible, or I’ll make a new bow from your bones.” With that, Tamef started to work his way further into the woods. “Remember, moss grows North, and the sun rises from the East!”
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