A/N: Sorry for the delay!
Chapter Five: Antlers
"Keep looking at the target, then pull back the string." I watched as Stan's hands worked, the arrow easing back in a smooth motion.
"Close one eye, let the air out of your body, and…" I heard the gentle sigh of his lungs emptying, and he was perfectly still for a moment, before suddenly releasing his grip. The arrow flew out of the bow and escaped my vision almost straight away, returning only when it thudded into the round target we had carved into a tree a few dozen paces away.
"Wow." Leopold and I said in unison. "You sure are lucky to have a teacher as good as Stanley, Kyle." The small blond boy said, smiling. He was about my height, and only looked slightly bulkier, if at all.
"Now you try." Stan said, handing me the bow and reaching over his shoulder to pull an arrow from his quiver. "Here, like this." He moved behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder, gently turning me until I was side-on with the target. "Put the notch of the arrow in – yea, just so." He said, and I felt a brief rush of pride at getting something instinctively right for a change.
"Now, draw." I pulled back the string until it seemed firm. "Further." I strained, managing to stretch it another inch or two.
"Further," he said again, "the string should come back past your ear." My arm was aching, and my bicep was twitching involuntarily with the exertion. I tried to eke out another few inches, but my arm gave way, jerking the bow and releasing the arrow at an awkward angle, almost straight up into the air.
"Gah!" Leopold shouted, ducking to the ground and covering his head. I only realized I was frozen and staring up at the sky when Stanley grabbed hold of me, pushing my head down and then bundling us both over.
There was a reassuring thump, that resembled metal hitting earth far more than metal tearing through flesh, and every muscle I had been tensing finally eased. I could taste blood, but after a momentary panic I noticed I had just bitten my lip a little aggressively.
"Thank you." I muttered as I got back to my feet, but he didn't acknowledge me. Instead he moved the few paces to where the arrow had landed and wrenched it from the earth. "I'm sorry."
"Let's try again." Was all he said, brushing the clumps of earth from the arrowhead and placing it back in the bow, handing it to me.
"Oh geez…" I heard Leopold mutter behind me.
Stanley was standing behind me, and this time he placed an arm around me and gripped the bow to hold it steady, and the other went around my hand on the string.
"Draw again." He ordered, and I pulled back using every ounce of strength I had, my teeth gritted in determination. "That's better." He said. When I couldn't pull back any further I felt him take some of the strain, moving the string back the final distance.
"Now hold it steady." He whispered. I could feel his breath on my skin, and the movement of his chest each time he inhaled. I struggled to keep the string taught without losing focus on the target.
"Breathe out." I did, letting the air flow out of my body. My brow was damp with sweat, and there was an irritating itch above my eye, the kind that taunts you knowing your hands are incapacitated.
"…Let fly." He finally said, releasing his grip on the string as I did the same. This time the arrow flew true, slicing up the air just to the side of the target.
"Good!" Stan said, the warmth of his body withdrawing and the cold air flooding in against my back. "Again."
There was definitely something therapeutic about archery, both in the serenity of the forest and the aggression of the arrow piercing the tree. It was hard to tell which relaxed me more. My arm was weary after just a few more shots though, and a couple of poorly timed releases had led to the string lashing against my forearm, which was now raw and bleeding gently.
"We must hunt." Stan announced after a while. "We cannot spend all day out here and return empty handed." He said, gathering the arrows and setting off deeper into the woods without warning, leaving Leopold and I to hurriedly follow.
Eventually I caught up with him, his figure hunched as he examined the ground. Occasionally he would stop suddenly, as if he'd heard some noise, and would scan the area for its source. "Stanley's the best at finding trails." Leopold whispered. "He knows the woods better than all of us."
Sure enough, after half an hour or so it seemed Stan had found something, and he started waving furiously to make sure we kept quiet. We were the deepest I had ever been into the woods, and I could hear the noise of running water up ahead, so there must be two rivers that flow through this valley.
We crawled on our bellies towards Stan, every rustle of clothing and crunch of leaves threatening to give our position away. I was awkward, clumsily plodding forwards, whilst Leopold and Stan were able to move so fluidly, stalking their prey.
A gap in the bushes gave us a clear view of a stag, drinking on the opposite side of the river. It was a majestic creature. It paused momentarily and raised its head, the reflection of its broad antlers shimmering in the water.
We crouched silently, barely daring to breathe until eventually it began to quench its thirst once more. Stan reached over his shoulder for his bow, and I remembered the precision with which he'd hit our tree target, which was at least as far away as the stag was now.
I flinched a little, trying to steady myself for the fatal blow I was about to witness. It wasn't Stan that delivered it though, as he passed the bow to Leopold, who stood up suddenly and unleashed two arrows in quick succession.
As it turned out, one was enough, striking the stag in the neck and bringing it down, already stunned when the second hit its flank. Leopold leapt into action, jumping over the bramble bush and wading across the river. When Stan followed I did the same, struggling to keep my balance against the strong current of murky water that splashed up to my waist.
On the other side, Leopold reached the stag and leapt on it, sinking a knife deep into its neck. Quickly the beast stopped writhing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Stan next to me, fixated on some trinket that hung around his neck, his fingers turning it over again and again.
"Here, clean this would ya?" Leopold said, handing me his bloodied knife. It was a surprisingly beautiful thing, despite its grisly purpose, the ornate handle bearing delicate spirals carved into the wood. I rinsed it in the stream until it regained its cold shine. I imagined the blood diluting in the river, and colouring it ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly redder.
When I returned the knife to Leopold I saw that he and Stan had already gotten to work, binding the stag's legs around a stick. "This is a big beast for just three to haul." Leopold said apprehensively.
"Yea." Stan replied. "Plus, y'know…" He gestured his head at me, unsubtly pointing out my weakness.
"We'll do fine, with Wodan's help." Leopold said with a smile, patting the fallen animal on its flank for good measure.
Even hauling the thing up onto our shoulders took a herculean effort, Leopold and I taking the back and Stan the front. On Stan's advice we made our way along the river bank to a shallower place where it would be easier to cross, but it made the journey longer still, and I felt ashamed to keep asking for a break when my shoulder ached too badly to continue.
By the time we crossed the river it was late, and darkness was dropping on the forest. We took a rest, and Leopold and I walked back down the bank to drink from the river.
"Sorry for slowing you down." I said, cupping water in my hands and bringing it to my face.
"Pray, don't worry!" Leopold replied. "It would be even slower without you."
"What is the thing Stan wears around his neck?" I asked, taking more of the cool liquid and pouring it onto my throbbing shoulder. My arm was still lacerated from using the bow as well, and my whole body felt like I had just wrestled with a bear or something.
"Stan?" Leopold laughed, looking at me curiously for calling him that. "You'd better ask Stan yourself. I'm, um, not sure I should explain it." He stuttered. "It's about his ma."
"Oh okay." I sunk back onto the grassy bank, dreading the moment we would have to continue this journey, and Leopold seemed to understand my situation, or at least he didn't rush me.
"We've done well today, mayhaps you're a lucky hunting charm." He said, patting me on the back. I held back a wince as a ripple of pain moved through my shoulder.
"I somehow doubt that." I laughed. "How come it was you that shot the deer, are you a better archer?"
"Oh, no, no, no." He replied eagerly. "Stanley, he…doesn't like killing things. He's odd like that." Leopold paused, lowering his face to the water to drink. "I mean, I don't like it much either, but I'm not so upset by it as he is. He helps with the rest, he just doesn't like being the one to…do it."
Leopold stretched and got to his feet. "C'mon, let's go while there's light left to guide us."
I sat for a second, smiling a little at the idea of Stan being too timid to hurt a deer, before Leopold reached a hand out to help me up. "Come on soldier, you can do it!" He shouted encouragingly. There was something very honest and naïve about him, and I really liked it. I wished the rest of the pagans could be more like him.
We reached the edge of the woods just as the last of the light was consumed by darkness, finding our way through the remaining trees with just slivers of moonlight aiding us. The forest belonged to creatures of the night-time now, owls, rodents and bats that owned the blackness just as men do the daytime.
"Shh." Stan said suddenly, just as we cleared the trees. There was noise coming from the village, angry shouts and commotion. Stan and Leopold dropped the carcass instantly.
"Stay here." Stanley said to me, his hand grasping his bow tightly. "I will get you when I know it's safe." With that he and Leopold ran towards the noise, their feet flying across the dark fields.
I sat by the stag, my feet still aching from our walk, and waited. I tried to see what was happening, but the light from the fire in the village was too dim, and my vantage point was too far away. Time passed and the noise didn't subside, but it didn't sound like fighting – I heard no clashes of steel or shouts of pain.
Eventually Stan returned, this time with Eric and Craig, presumably to help carry our spoils the remaining few hundred yards. "It's nothing, let's go." Was all he said.
"Don't worry, princess." Eric said when I reached to help carry the load. "Just be sure to get your pretty self back safe, eh? Stanley would be honored to guard you, no doubt." He sneered.
I fought back the urge to protest, though something about Eric filled me with rage more than anyone else I had ever met. He managed to be constantly both callous and malicious.
I found my family standing around the fire, and they seemed relieved to see me home safe again. I watched from a distance as the stag was sized up by the men of the village, and they seemed impressed with it. Someone got straight to work, removing the antlers that had stood upon its noble head so fiercely just a few hours ago.
"We heard noise as we walked back, what has been happening?" I asked.
"It's the Franks." My father said, and my heart sank. Of course it was. "The villagers are annoyed, because their Lord has granted the Franks permission to build a fort on a hill near here. They fear for their safety…"
It felt like they were following us, bloodthirsty wolves that wouldn't let us be. I shuddered, but hoped at least it might mean we move on towards the Byzantine Empire faster.
"If you look over to those hills you can see the lights of their fires." Father said, and sure enough I saw two ember glows in the distance, like angry eyes in the hillside, no doubt intent on conquering all in their gaze.