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‘Aye I have, but you wouldn’t want that kind of practice,’ he said pulling on the bow to test its strength and grabbing another arrow.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean it is one thing to let loose at a target of straw, quite enough to see a man die because of it.’
‘I suppose it must be.’
‘Now it is too fine a day for such dark thoughts, so come, I will show you how to do it better. Take aim for me.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Are you afraid Ilene?’
It was what he used to say when she was a child when he was goading her into doing something she shouldn’t. She snatched the bow and arrow from his hand, squinting into the sun, trying to aim. She jumped as Murray placed a firm hand against her waist, his body tight up against her side as he pulled her elbow out.
‘If you hold the bow too close it will sting when the string springs back.’
Ilene took a deep breath as he started to open her fingers. ‘No Murray, I will drop the arrow.’
‘Too tense and you lose accuracy. You must grip with a firm touch but a light one, like a man holds his sweetheart.’
‘Stop teasing me.’
He just smiled. ‘You have strong hands, that’s good,’ he said, biting his lip in concentration as he looked her up and down. Ilene found her own start to slip as she wondered what those lips would feel like to kiss - bruising and brutal she imagined, for she could see no softness in his looks.
‘Can I loose now, my fingers are hurting?’
‘In a fight, you would not notice the pain, so stop complaining or you’ll never learn to defend yourself.’
His face was so close to hers that Ilene could see the dark blue band around the outer rim of his irises which gave his eyes such a piercing quality, making them all but impossible to look away from.
Suddenly he bent down. ‘Your stance is sloppy. Stand firm, with your legs straight.’
Then, oh lord, he pulled her legs apart, and for some reason, they felt like marrow jelly. Now he was holding the back of her knee and pushing her leg straight.
‘Murray I cannot possibly remember all these things at once!’ she pleaded.
‘Patience woman, feet still.’ He took hold of her again, placing his hand in the small of her back, his palm hot through her dress and slightly shocking. ‘Do not strain Ilene, use your back muscles to do the work.’ Stooping, so that his rough cheek was against hers, he trained her bow to the target’s centre.
‘Wait for the breeze to settle,’ he whispered and there was something intimate about his voice. ‘Don’t rush Ilene.’
‘Where shall I aim?’
‘Ah, that is hard to teach for it is instinctive, you must feel it here in your gut,’ he said softly, placing a hand on her belly. Ilene almost jumped away from him, so great was her shock at the intimate way he was touching her. ‘Now anchor the arrow here,’ he continued, gently pressing her hand into her face. His fingers brushed her jawline, his touch making her catch her breath.
They had often played together as youngsters and she still held vague memories of falling asleep, curled against him under the summer sun when out exploring the castle grounds, when exhaustion had overwhelmed her. But she was older now and he a relative stranger to her, so in spite of the remembered childhood intimacy, Ilene felt an awkward rush of self-consciousness. It was unsettling for him to have his hands on her, no matter how innocently. Or was it innocent at all? Perhaps he was playing with her.
She could smell the heat coming off his leather waistcoat, feel the warmth of his rough cheek against hers, the casual power in his arm as he pulled the bow taut as if it were nothing. How could his touch be so gentle when he was so big? For one reckless moment, she imagined what he would feel like under her hands. The thud of her heart quickened, as something in his rough voice as he issued his commands made her terribly nervous.
‘Loose,’ he breathed into her ear and she did so with relief. The arrow met its mark exactly.
‘There,’ he said ‘you have pierced its heart. You learn quickly Ilene, though it appears I have much still to teach you.
‘You can teach me arrogance maybe.’
‘Aye, that too.’ His smirk riled her so Ilene quickly sheathed another arrow, took aim and let loose, only to see it fly past the target.
‘Elbow too low, that was bound to happen. Try again.’
