Page 166 of Forcing Fate

“Breathe.”

I let out a breath and pulled the trigger, letting the bolt fly. I held the crossbow steady, hoping it flew straight and true.

Xzanth made an approving sound, and I peered over at him. He gave me a reluctant nod and pushed himself to his feet. I looked one last time at the target. The bolts were smaller than arrows and had thin wooden fletching, making them harder to see.

I stood and waited while General Rafe studied and walked around all the targets I hit. He looked at the front and back. I assumed he was checking if they went through or how deep they were. After examining them, he removed each one, then headed our way. He had removed the bolt from the furthest target, so I knew I at least hit it.

“Xzanth, have her practice till the eleventh chime,” he said, handing the bolts to me.

My smile fell from my face as I took them. I didn’t expect praise, but the soldiers I trained with before never could have made those shots. I expected him to express some form of approval.

He turned his back on us and stalked off toward the fortress. I gripped the bolts tight and looked to Xzanth.

“Your stance is horrible,” he said dryly.

I spent the next few chimes practicing with Xzanth. I was a decent shot, even at far distances, unless distracted. The first time he tickled my ear with a blade of grass while I was aiming, I nearly bit his hand off.

He helped me practice different stances and techniques to steady my hands and keep my aim more consistent. He taught me that I would rarely ever have a clean shot—something else would always vie for my attention.

He stood beside the targets and waved a branch in front of them, forcing me to time my shots. He had me practice in different positions, even told me to climb a tree at one point. Most of the time, my aim rang true, except when I was distracted. He made me run to get my bolts, not allowing me to walk. He claimed I needed the exercise and I wouldn’t be out for a stroll when I retrieved my bolts on the battlefield.

We practiced until we heard the eleventh chime in the distance and I helped Xzanth carry the bows. As we walked back, the only sound was the dry grass and twigs crunching beneath our feet.

“Xzanth, how did you get so good with a bow?” I asked.

“I was a hunter.”

“A game hunter? For furs?” Wild furs were a luxury item. It was a hard job, one that required patience and perseverance, but it paid well.

“Aye.”

“Why did you join the ranks? That’s a fair occupation.” Why would someone give up a good life to fight in the most dangerous place?

After a long pause, he responded. “You remind me of my daughters,” he rasped.

I tilted my head and studied him. His solemn attitude slipped. In its place, sorrow flooded his face. He took a deep breath and tucked it away, putting on his sober mask.

He lost them.

It was easy to tell. Most of the soldiers who lost loved ones had it written on their faces. Their haunted expressions screamed sorrowful rage at the losses they suffered. Xzanth hid it well, especially by being quiet, but it was there.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, focusing on my feet.

Silence fell like a blanket over us as we walked to the fortress.

“Hail!” Jamlin beckoned as we made our way into the courtyard.

Hunger ached in my belly as I eyed the bread and cheese he waved above his head.

“Ha! Come, Avyanna!” he roared, motioning me to join him in a small cleared area of the ruined courtyard.

Xzanth nodded his approval, and I handed him the short bow and arrows. Heading over to Jamlin, I saw General Rafe and Blain sitting on the ruins of a gate, eating bread and cheese.

“Hail,” I greeted, coming to stand in front of Jamlin.

“Let’s see how bad you are then, little one.” He teased, holding the food above his head. “If you can get it, you can have it.”

I narrowed my eyes. He wanted to play games? I could play games.

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