AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It was a warm up shot,” retorted Heath, knowing his cousin was baiting him, but unable to help giving him exactly what he wanted.
Brody’s grin broadened, and Heath shook his head as he took another arrow from Percival. He forced himself not to be goaded by Brody’s chuckle, taking his time to line up the shot. This one hit the bullseye dead center, and Percival cheered.
“Show us it wasn’t a fluke,” he said, holding out another arrow.
Heath rolled his eyes at his brother’s exuberance, but he couldn’t help grinning himself. He hadn’t seen Percival in this good a mood since before the tournament began. Once he had sent three more arrows into the center of the target, Percival declared him ready for the final round. Brody, always full of restless energy, ran the distance to remove the final arrow from the target, leaving it clear.
“Come on, Bianca,” said Percival imperiously. “Hand me your kerchief.”
Bianca sighed, but didn’t actually protest as she handed it over. For all her disapproving clucks, Heath got the sense that she was as curious as the boys as to how he would perform when blindfolded. So was he, if he was honest.
Percival tied the kerchief firmly around his brother’s eyes, then spun Heath around forcefully. He spun him more times than the competitor had been spun—so many that Heath’s head was reeling when Percival finally let go.
He staggered slightly before finding his footing, his arms a little shaky as he raised his bow. He blinked pointlessly behind the blindfold, unable to see anything. With a slight shake of his head, he acknowledged himself impressed that the victor had been as close to the target as he had.
Heath drew a deep breath, determined to at least make a creditable shot for his audience of three. After all, being a good archer wasn’t just about eyesight. He’d trained in the sport since childhood, honing a natural aptitude with extensive time and persistence.
He could hear the chuckles and murmurings of Percival and the twins behind him, so at least he knew he wasn’t about to shoot anyone by accident. As he pictured the target, trying to assess where exactly it was, he gave a gasp.
“What is it?” Percival asked from behind him.
“Nothing,” said Heath quickly, lowering his bow. He raised his hand, surreptitiously confirming that the blindfold was still in place. So why could he see the target? He turned his head slightly to the side, but he couldn’t see the stands, the bright summer sky, his brother. Everything was blank, the blindfold doing its job. But when he turned forward again, he could see the target, alone in the blackness. What was happening?
“Well, come on, Heath!” goaded Brody. “If you’re going to admit defeat, say so at once, so we can go get some luncheon.”
Heath didn’t respond, just raising his bow again. He couldn’t see his bow, or his hand in front of him. He could only see the target. Perhaps it was a trick of the mind, a very effective picturing of what was in his thoughts. Most likely the target wasn’t anywhere near where he was picturing it to be. Nevertheless, he lined the shot up carefully before letting the arrow fly.
Although he couldn’t see, he could hear the deadly hum of it slicing through the air, followed by the unmistakable thud of the metal hitting the target.
Heath ripped off his blindfold, staring at the arrow, which was buried in the dead center of the bullseye. The hit was met by total silence, and he turned to see all three of his companions looking at the target in astonishment. His eyes were on Percival as his brother’s gaze flicked to him. Heath only had time to take in Percival’s startled expression before Brody distracted him with his cheers.
Heath turned toward his cousin, not missing the fact that Bianca looked more alarmed than impressed. A moment later Heath’s own alarm grew, as shouts and cheers from further away reached his ears.
“He did it! The Duke of Bexley’s son hit the bullseye with the blindfold on!”
Heath wrenched himself around, gasping as he took in the several spectators who had regathered, unnoticed by him. He had been sure the arena was empty except for his little group, and he was dismayed to realize his mistake.
Their eyes were wide, their expressions similar to that of the woman whose son Percival had saved from the crushed carriage. Heath had rarely had anyone look at him like that, and if he was honest, it was a little intoxicating. His alarm grew at the realization that he was enjoying the sensation, and he dropped the bow as if it was burning metal.
“We were just messing around,” he called, trying to sound cheerful rather than terrified. He pulled Bianca’s kerchief from around his neck, where it had slipped, and waved it in the air. “It wasn’t a proper blindfold—I could see the whole time.”
The watchers deflated slightly, most of them nodding in disappointed acceptance of this explanation for Heath’s impossible feat.
“Still impressive,” one of them called, and Heath saw that one or two were watching him skeptically, not looking entirely convinced.
He swallowed nervously, hastening to return the bow to its stand. “That was a mistake,” he muttered to Percival, his hands shaking slightly as he took the remaining arrows from his brother, placing them in their holder alongside the bow.
“Why did you do that?” Percival demanded, and Heath looked up in surprise at the anger in his brother’s voice. “Why did you tell them you could see?”
Heath was silent, not sure how to explain to his brother that it had been true, in a sense.
“If people are afraid of your capabilities, that’s their problem, not yours!” Percival insisted.
Heath shrugged. “You heard what Father said. We’re not supposed to be drawing attention to our…talents right now.” His voice turned wry. “And you’ve already made enough of a spectacle with your little speech the other day.”
Percival opened his mouth, clearly ready to argue further, but Heath glanced over his shoulder and stiffened. The discomfort in his stomach blossomed rapidly into full scale alarm at the sight of his father, standing several feet away with a very sober look on his face.
The Duke of Bexley had his mother on one arm, and the elderly princess was watching Heath with great interest.
