Page 14 of Heart of Snow
“Should I . . .”
“Load your arrow.” He spoke with strained patience.
I swallowed my embarrassment and took the arrow. Resting it on my knuckle and the bow string, I glanced to him for confirmation that my form was correct.
“You have to push the nock onto the string. Good. Now shoot it.”
Closing an eye, I centered the arrow tip on the tree. I drew the string back, surprised by how much muscle such a simple task required, then let it go. The arrow flew wide right and clattered against a boulder.
“Again,” Friedrich ordered, handing me another arrow.
I loaded the bow and repeated the process, this time forgetting to pull the string back to its full draw, for the arrow went a mere rod’s length and burrowed into the ground. My face was hot as I put out my hand to receive the next arrow, but no arrow came. I turned to find Friedrich settling down against the trunk of a tree and folding his hands behind his head.
“Just getting comfortable.” He smiled. “Since we’ll be here awhile.”
I wrenched an arrow from the quiver and jammed the bowstring between the nock, drawing the string back until my muscles burned.
“Don’t forget the fletching.”
“The what?” My suspended draw made my arms shake.
“The feathers on the arrow. If you release that—”
The string slipped from my trembling grip, and the arrow made a quick dive into the dirt only a few paces from my feet. Friedrich snorted, tempting me, begging me to bring him down to my place of humiliation. “How are your new quarters?” I turned to him. “Father gave you the position, am I right?”
His smile slowly faded.
“Huntsman’s page should suit you well. I’m told it’s quite comfortable, warm even, sleeping in the kennels with the dogs.”
He dropped his hands into his lap and lowered his eyes, as if studying the grass between his feet. My smile grew smug until he tilted his head up to ask, “Does your father know where you are now? Did you tell him these herbs you’re collecting would make medicinal tonics to help the poor, sickly people of Wildungen?” He glanced toward Belinda, bent plucking a fistful of greenery. “That must be nice for him, having a daughter whose devotion to Christian duty is outweighed only by her truthfulness.”
My jaw dropped. He’d struck deeper than he knew, and I refused to satisfy him with a response. Instead, I jerked another arrow from the quiver and set it in the bow, shooting it off with such careless force that the string whipped the inside of my wrist, leaving it hot and stinging. Behind me, Friedrich laughed outright.
I spun on him. “I’m sorry. I must be mistaken. I didn’t realize you’d brought me here to make a spectacle of me.”
Plucking up a blade of grass, he settled it in his mouth as he propped an arm over his upright knee. “I brought you here so you could learn. You’re making the spectacle all on your own.”
He sucked on the grass with an infuriating smile.
“How do you expect me to learn?” My voice was loud enough that Belinda looked up from her place across the meadow.“You’ve done nothing but sit on your rump barking orders like some kind of noble overlord.”
Friedrich’s eyes flashed, and he stood up suddenly, pacing over to me with such severity that I stumbled back a step. He picked up an arrow, then grabbed my left hand, forcing it to the center of the bow and holding it in place. I sucked in a sharp breath as the scab of my burn split beneath the pressure.
“You put this hand here,” he said, then reached his arm around me and threaded the arrow between my fingers. “You rest the arrow shaft on your knuckle, then twist it until the slit in the nock lines up with the string. The fletching must point outward to avoid hitting the bow when you release the string.” He covered my fingers with his own, expertly nocking the arrow. “Balance the nock between your first and second fingers. Draw the string back toward your face until your first finger sits at the corner of your mouth.” He squeezed my hand beneath his, using his strength to pull the bowstring back to my face, his finger brushing against my lip. I startled at the too-familiar touch, but he seemed utterly unaware of it, so focused on his target that our rather intimate situation was completely lost on him. “When your form is right, aiming comes easily. Sight your target.” His face was so close his jaw grazed my cheek. “Now release.”
This time the arrow flew in a smooth line, sailing toward the target and landing with a satisfying thunk in the center of the tree. It was a beautiful shot, an expert shot, and I couldn’t help bestowing Friedrich a look of awe.
His face was lit by a smile as he studied his work, but when he met my gaze, his countenance fell, and he dropped my hand. Clearing his throat, he took a broad step backward, then turned on his heel.
“Again,” he called over his shoulder and settled back against his favorite tree.
Chapter 7
Margaretha
The bath water was finallyheated, the steam rising from the tub as Belinda helped me out of my gown. I couldn’t raise my arms to take off my chemise without groaning, but when I’d finally managed to slip out of my underclothes, I sank into the water and let the warmth pull the ache from my limbs.
“You shouldn’t have practiced again today. You wouldn’t be so sore,” Belinda said.
