A fanfic situated in Mountain Eyrie, about the Starpool Holt character Arrowspeed. Arrowspeed is 16 in this story and still uses her child name, Arrow.
Chief Whiteraven returned from her hunt to find young Arrow waiting for her on the ledge of Mountain Eyrie. She asked her bond-bird to drop her kill, a bowhorn, on the ledge and glided down to meet the flightless hunter. As she set her feet on the ground, she noticed the girl was a head taller than her. She was also sturdily built for a sixteen-turns-old. Still, she was flightless. Not a threat, Whiteraven reminded herself.
"My chief. I regret that I must do this, but do this I must. I challenge the High Wind." Arrow stated gravely. Her voice sounded more like a male's than a young maiden's. Whiteraven stared at her in disbelief. Challenging the High Wind meant attempting to change the traditions the Hawkriders had always followed. In such a challenge, the chief represented the High Wind and a Low Duel was fought. Whiteraven could guess what particular tradition Arrow wished to change, yet she asked:
"And the reason for your challenge?"
"The flightless are not allowed to challenge the chief for the feather-crown. I wish to change this."
Whiteraven tried to keep her voice calm as she answered:
"Very well. I will summon the tribe to the Duelling Grounds."
Soon the Hawkriders all stood on the ledge that overlooked the smooth-walled canyon shaped ages ago for duels with troll-swords, or floated above it. Whiteraven explained the challenge and gave her formal headdress to Selaree's hands. If it came to pass that she died, the Eldest would crown her son Winter their next chief. Low Duels were fought until surrender, but accidents had happened in the past. Selaree declared the height of a level vein of darker stone in the walls the maximum gliding height during the duel. Bowstring gave Arrow his own sword for loan and carried his daughter to the canyon floor.
The combatants faced each other standing on the bottom of the canyon. Selaree called out: "Begin!" and blade met blade in an echoing clash. Whiteraven glided around her flightless opponent, but young Arrow parried her every thrust. Her attacks failed, however, for the chief kept her body out of her reach. After a long, even battle Whiteraven got through Arrow's defences and dealt the girl a blow on the ribs. Her black leather tunic tore and blood spattered the ground. Arrow's left hand clutched the wound and pain twisted her features. Whiteraven lifted her sword to touch the girl's neck and demand surrender, but at the last possible moment Arrow jumped from her crouching position as if she was not in pain at all and slammed the chief down with the full weight of her body. The sword fell from Whiteraven's grasp and she felt cold brightmetal against her own neck.
"I yield!" She screamed. As Arrow released her and stood up, the chief muttered:
"But the next time won't be so easy, you flightless little beast!" In a voice as sweet as beesweets, Whiteraven continued as she glided off the ground:
"I suppose I should carry you up now, and declare your victory?"
"No need, my chief. Kieeeee-eeeeeee-eeeeeee!" Arrow suddenly cried, and did something impossible.
She glided. Not gracefully, not fast, but she rose to the level of the ledge. Whiteraven followed, puzzled.
"Why did you challenge me if you are a glider? Since when have you been one, and why did you hide it?"
"I did not challenge you, my chief. I challenged the High Wind. There will be no next time between us, at least I hope not. I did this for Shadowsong, Summernight, Moonflower and Yanel, and for the flightless to come. As for the other questions – I mastered my talent only days ago, but my mother has been secretly training me all my life. And I did not use the talent in the Duel to show that I'm right in my cause – a flightless can fight the chief and win. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to have this wound healed."
Arrow glided to Suanshen the healer and landed clumsily on her knees. The healer supported her and put her hand on the gash. She gasped:
"Two ribs broken! Valaree, give me a hand." Suanshen could mend bones at least as well as the bone-shaper, but they preferred to share such tasks to conserve Suanshen's strength – one never knew when she would next be needed.
Whiteraven came to stand by and watch:
"I thought you were bluffing!"
Arrow managed a smile:
"I was, sort of. It was my only chance against strength such as yours, my chief. And as you said, a trick like that only works once. Once was all I needed."
"I should have known you never wanted to be chief." Whiteraven said more to herself. Apparently she had not managed to conceal the relief in her voice, for as she walked away, Summernight came to her:
"Remember, if I'm not satisfied with how you lead us I might just decide to challenge you myself. And I'm no fledgling - I know more tricks than you."
Whiteraven chuckled:
"That would be the day! Oh, my friend, that would be the day!"
Soon they were both roaring with laughter. They were soul sisters, close as close can be.
Bowstring walked to his daughter as soon as Arrow was healed and back on her feet.
"Tell me how it felt, the pain, and how you overcame it?"
"I was so angry I didn't feel it. I knew I should be in pain, but when I touched the wound it felt as if it wasn't even my flesh. So I decided to bluff – I pretended I hurt and got Whiteraven off guard. Nice trick, wasn't it?"
"It was more than a trick. I should have guessed before. You are a berserker, just like me. You have the gift to ignore pain during a battle, even to the degree of ignoring a mortal wound. It is a dangerous path, but it is what you are."
Whiteraven's daughter, Snowflake, sent to her furmate:
I told you so! Just look at her. She's taller than her father already.
All right, so you win. Two full jars, was it? I still can't believe you made a bet against your own mother!' Featherveil chided her.
You should know me by now. Hey, I have an idea.
What now?
Watch.
Arrow had walked to the ledge and stood watching the empty Duelling grounds, and the red stain that was her blood visible even from this far. Her expression was very serious, as if she had just now realized she had been wounded. Snowflake glided to stand in the air before her.
"Lose something of yours down there?" She asked, grinning.
"Maybe. Fear, or something. And now I'm thinking maybe fear isn't always such a bad thing to have."
"Cheer up. The day is yours, young one. Not to mention the night after it…"
Snowflake floated closer, and whispered:
"You've just proved you're not a child anymore, Arrow. Perhaps you'd like to show me just how grown up you are?"
The girl just stared at her.
"Larenn's blood, what is wrong with you? Or is it me? Not good enough for the mighty warrior, am I?"
"No, Snowflake. You're too good. But I don't have any love in me today, maybe never. All I can think of is who to challenge next and how to pay Kestrel back for every time he's called me a flightless maggot, and worse."
"Well, the offer stands. Do you have any idea how hot you are, girl?"
Snowflake set her hands on Arrow's shoulders and bent down to kiss her, but Arrow caught hold of her arms and held her away.
"I don't know and I don't care. Now please let me be. I do know how strong I am, and so do you."
"All right. I owe you, anyway, since you won me two jars of Featherveil's best and oldest wine."
Well? Featherveil asked, a smile in her eyes, when Snowflake returned to her.
No luck. That one is cold as cloudjuice!
Give her time. She's young.
Storms and skyfire! You should have seen her eyes. Children don't have a bloodlust like that. Nobody should have a bloodlust like that. She was bracing herself, I tell you, forcing herself not to hurt me. Much. Snowflake rubbed the ugly bruises on her arms.
Oh, poor you.
Don't you start babying me.
Sorry.
Where's that wine?
Note: I'm not very satisfied with this story. Reviews are welcome.