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The closing of the door behind me broke the still energy. "It’s time we teach you how to fight,” Tore said as he walked in front of me, the other huntsmen close behind.
Dagr pulled a bow from behind his back, his coy smile making me nervous. "Are you ready to learn how to shoot it?"
The hair on my arms stood up and my stomach churned with the thought of holding a weapon in my hands, let alone shooting it. Weapons and violence were against everything I once believed in. I was not a fighter or a killer. I’d never had the desire to learn how to be either. But so much had changed, and a deep thick blackness had taken hold of my life and was only getting darker. The war had just begun. The queen was coming, I knew this in the deepest part of my heart.
“I don’t think I have the ability to do this,” I said as I watched Odin and Steen pull out bows of their own. Standing up, I pulled the fur tighter around me as if it were enough to protect me from everything.
"Of course you can, and we’ll teach you. Do you see those trees over there?" Freyr asked, pointing north from where we stood. Ten or twenty yards away, two small pines were spread a few feet apart from one another.
“You think I can fire an arrow that far?” I asked.
He ignored my question, took the bow from Tore, and handed it to me. "Everyone should know how to shoot an arrow. Never depend on someone else for your survival. Never."
I glanced at Jerrik who walked up to stand to my left. “You know the queen is coming,” he said. “We want to make sure you can defend yourself if need be.”
“But I have all of you,” I said, instantly hating the weakness that laced my words as I said them.
“You have us, and I feel that is all you’ll need when it comes down to it,” Magni said, “but we all agreed we need to prepare you for the worst.”
Dagr began explaining his technique, his fingers gliding over the wood, string, and arrowhead, pointing at different parts as he described their function and demonstrated how to stand and release.
“You sure you don’t want one of us teaching her the way to handle a bow, old man?” Tore teased from afar. The other huntsmen laughed.
“Someone who can actually aim and hit a boar should be the one,” Dagr said with a glare.
“It really should be me teaching Snow since we all know that I am by far the best,” Freyr teased.
Dagr chose to ignore the playful jabs and comments coming in good humor from the other huntsmen as he stood behind me, his hands on my hips guiding me into position at a right angle to the target trees. He nocked an arrow just below the bead and helped me to draw the string back fully to the anchor point. His arms were around me, distracting me, though I knew I should try to ignore his close proximity and focus on the task at hand. His breath was warm on my neck, and the sinful thoughts flooding through me were making this lesson far harder than he knew.
"Relax. Archery has more in common with art than war. It is a dance between you, your target, and the tools in your hands. Feel the breeze in your hair. Where is it coming from? How will it affect the arrow's flight path? Breathe in; breathe out. Hold your back straight, keep your posture tall, proud, as if you had a crown on your head,” Jerrik said as he stood the closest to Dagr and me, watching closely as if to assure Dagr was indeed doing a good job with the lesson.
His words floated around me, embracing me. Under Dagr’s guidance, I sighted the arrow and relaxed my fingers. The string snapped, striking my skin in a surprising fashion. The arrow flew with only a slight waver, striking the nearer tree at its base. “I did it!” I exclaimed.
"Very good," Odin stated as he walked to the arrow to examine it closer. “Again,” he ordered.
Dagr stepped back, guiding me to nock the next arrow on my own. His face beamed with pride.
I released five more arrows before Jerrik and Dagr led me over to view the targets. Arrows stuck out from the base of the trees, having made contact each time.
"You have great aim, lass,” Magni praised. “You’re a natural.”
“We should have her doing the hunting over some of you fools,” Tore said with a chuckle.
I liked pleasing them. "Thank you." I smiled, feeling a real sense of pride.
Freyr’s expression grew serious. “The queen is coming."
“And she wants me dead?” I knew the answer to this, but for some reason I needed to hear one of the huntsmen say it. I needed to hear the harsh words to keep me grounded in reality, to remind me that my life was not a safe little haven guarded by my seven protectors.
