Page 10 of Twenty-One Arrow Salute

He turned a lovely shade of pink and a weird urge to kiss his embarrassment away consumed me. His translucent skin—that flawless, reactive complexion typical of a redhead—coloured easily. I wondered if by some miracle our circulatory systems had fused together. That would explain why each time a blush saturated his high cheekbones, my crotch pulsated with a surge of blood in response, initiating a conflict between my cock and the seam of my trousers.

I rushed to say something to discourage my body’s unwanted reaction. “You’re not the only one to feel that way about Hélk. Back home, he had a dedicated group of admirers, all right. No wonder, too. I’ve seen him, drunk off his arse, splitting arrows on a dare from a hundred and twenty paces away and without even aiming. But I can tell you this: crossing the bastard is a piss-poor choice.”

“Speaking from experience?” Hernan’s lips gave a twitch.

“You better believe it. He’s a brilliant teacher. Strict but patient and just. You really have to work at it for him to lose his shit with you.”

“I’m guessing you managed, somehow or another?” A smile infused his tone.

“That I did. It wasn’t pretty, either.” I grimaced. “Once, when this stupid stunt I instigated went tits up—and trust me, it appeared an excellent idea at the time—hyoshie Hélk whipped my bare arse with the shaft of my own arrow. Thirty times. In front of all the other recruits. I couldn’t sit properly for a week.” A shudder racked my body at the recollection.

Hernan sucked air through his teeth in sympathy, but his gaze sparkled with amusement. “You’d make a good teacher yourself, Verhan. Actually, you remind me of hyoshie Hélk a lot. You even look alike.” Immediately, Hernan’s round-eyed expression, like that of a startled deer, betrayed that he hadn’t planned on sharing that bit of information with me.

Equally alarmed, I studied him in return. What did it mean? That he fancied me? Were we flirting? I couldn’t decide, since my concept of flirting involved a crude comment or two, coupled with grabbing body parts and hoping for the best. Somehow, I knew such an approach wouldn’t fly with this polished boy from the capital, whose accent alone made me want to run a comb through my hair and re-shine my boots. Around him, my usual ways seemed ill-suited and unsavoury.

Setting my odd misgivings aside, I said, “Wait, I’m confused. If you aimed for the Highland Regiment from the beginning, why bother with the Scouts? What were the try-outs about?”

“My father.” A taut expression tugged Hernan’s lips downwards. “He insisted I join a unit that doesn’t, as he put it, ‘crawl with’…” He froze.

“What?” I offered a humourless smile. “Dirty mountain savages? Cave dwellers?”

His face took on a crimson shade, making the answer redundant.

“Don’t worry about it.” I shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. I’ve had worse and all.”

I had indeed, as a matter of fact. Not many still stood afterwards, either. Prejudice against the Highlanders simmered amongst some groups, widespread with the highborn in particular, despite—or precisely because of—the Queen’s favour and the friendship Her Grace had demonstrated towards my people. Indisputably, the idea of the Crown’s coin poured into the Highland’s new autonomy bothered many, like a pesky fish bone stuck between their teeth after dinner. Ironic how those who opposed piling privileges on the mountain plebes were those screaming the loudest for the Highland Regiment’s back up in battles or during a siege.

Hernan dropped his chin and wrung his hands in an uncomfortable gesture that disarmed me. I wanted to brush the unruly hair out of his face. “I’m sorry to hear it, Verhan,” he said. “I don’t think like that. On the contrary…” Once again, he trailed off.

Pricking my ears, I waited, hoping he’d continue. After a time, his gaze met mine.

“My father and I don’t see eye to eye on, well, anything. We never got along, but things have worsened since my mother’s passing. No, he didn’t mistreat me.” He shook his head, likely noticing my tense reaction. I felt my jaw muscles relax. “Mostly, he went on ignoring me. As if he couldn’t stand looking at me. Fair enough, we have little in common. The same goes for my older brothers. Men of the sword, all of them.” His nose wrinkled as if offended by a bad smell.

“You’re the youngest?”

He offered a nod. “My mother was an archer. A redhead, like me.” The smile that ghosted on his lips, sad and blinding, didn’t last more than a split second—long enough to get my heart pounding a funny rhythm. “The very last battle of the Elven Wars claimed her. Afterwards, my father cleared all archery equipment from the training grounds. Never once mentioned her. Still, however much he tried, I never took to the sword, even though I can fence well enough if forced to. Eventually, my father stopped pushing me. Or paying me any attention at all. So I set up my own shooting lane at the back of the stables. And practised alone, in secret, as if it were a crime.” He moved his head a few times as though attempting to shake off upsetting memories. “The try-outs? You’ll probably think it foolish, but I never intended to sign the contract with the Scouts. I merely wanted to win and secure the place. If only to show my father that I could. That they wanted me. That I earned my way into the best unit in the country using the skill he makes little of. And for him to…”

Notice you? Acknowledge your mother’s memory?

But he stopped there, chewing on his bottom lip, absorbed in rooting a stone out of a bunch of grass with the tip of his boot.

His upset bothered me more than I thought reasonable. Curious, I asked, “What would you have done if you had won the trials?”

“Back out and offer the place to your cousin,” Hernan answered at once and let out a sigh. “Alas, he handed my arse to me that day.”

At the sight of his bottom lip protruding in a sulky pout, I broke out in a sweat. Reaching underneath my hair, I rubbed the back of my neck. What was wrong with me? It must’ve been the climate—I wished the damn heat would let up. How could anyone think clearly amidst such sticky humidity? It made my head all fuzzy inside. “I’m guessing your father and brothers will come to see you shoot on the Queen’s Namesday?”

“Oh, they’re bound to be there, no doubt about that. Somewhere on the Royal platform, I expect. But it won’t be to see me, as such.” Hernan let out a bitter laugh. “My father makes all public court appearances. He’s Lord D’Arteň’s sparring partner.”

I arched my eyebrows. “The Royal Consort’s? Oh-ho-ho, ain’t that flashy. Your family must be well—”

“Stiff,” he said.

“Connected,” I said at the same time, and we both laughed.

“Well, fuck it,” I declared jumping to my feet and hauling Hernan up by his forearm. “Whatever the reason behind your family’s presence, they’re going to watch you, Hernan Seinnés—the capital’s best centre shooter—smash the shit out of the Twenty-One Arrow Salute in front of the entirety of Asirhwÿn. Because you will do great, you hear me?” I shook my arrow at him pointedly. “Or else, I swear it to the gods, I’ll borrow hyoshie Hélk’s teaching method and beat your arse raw.”

Beating, in all honesty, didn’t reflect the way I really wanted to carry on in regards to his round, narrow behind. The first part I firmly believed, though: he could do it and I wanted him to shine.

The apples of his cheeks flushed, and his face split into a genuine smile. The next thing I knew, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

The fleeting contact almost made me jump. “Right,” I said, determined to hide the way his touch had rattled me. “We’d better get back to it, then.” I raised my bow. Focused on the feel of my weapon in my grasp, I regained some of the control that Hernan’s shy, sweet demeanour had drained from me.

Much later that night, unable to fall asleep, I lay in bed, examining the undefined yearning blossoming in my chest. I recalled the warmth of his fingers wrapped around my wrist. The heat in his gaze. And that damn blush of his, through which he, quiet and insidious, acquired the power to grind my stupid heart to a pulp.

And I liked it not at all.