Page 14 of Twenty-One Arrow Salute

“All right then lads, show me where we’re at,” he said, his tone drier than horse hay. “I need to know I won’t have mass casualties and the city on fire on my hands.”

Hernan’s eyes, wider and more lucent all of a sudden, darted to mine. I gave him a quick wink, pouring all the confidence into my expression.

Once we lined up and moved into our shooting positions—Hernan to my left so that he could take clues from my movements using his peripheral vision—Yennés barked, “No commands. When you’re ready.”

All right, then. The bastard didn’t intend to make it easy. So in complete silence, we set our gloves, readied the arrows and nocked the first one.

I feared everyone would hear the fast hammering of my heart. I could hardly remember the last time I’d gripped my bow without feeling calm and collected. While turning my head to the side and lifting my gaze to the sky, I hoped to gods Hernan wouldn’t drop the arrows or rush the release.

Then, in synchronised movement, we raised our bows upwards and started drawing.

By the time the third and last volley of arrows had completed their flight and fallen amongst the shrubbery, we lowered our bows and, holding them at hip level, returned to our initial stances. Struggling for control over my facial features, I gritted my teeth to fight off a massive grin.

“At ease.” Yennés engaged in a silent exchange of looks with Achiah. One side of his lips curled upwards—likely the closest thing to a smile his physiognomy could withstand without imploding. At last, he nodded. “Not bad. Both of you.”

The Commander’s approving glance, the first one he’d ever spared me—odds were it would be the last one I’d ever deserve—caused my ears to burn hot at the tips. His attention shifted to Hernan. “There must be a drop of Highlander blood in you, Seinnés.” He beckoned Hernan over with his huge hand. “Walk with me. Master Raikikho wants you for a final fitting at the armoury. Your ceremonial bow is ready.”

In passing, Hernan stole a furtive peek at me over his shoulder, the green of his eyes twinkling. And didn’t that small, bashful smile that stretched his lips flip my heart right over, sending peculiar—partly aching, partly elated—judders over me.

Fidgety, I wiped my damp palms on the sides of my trousers. I understood desire all too well and, no doubt, a considerable amount of it played a large part in the situation. However, the lust I felt for Hernan was laced with emotion, foreign and so heavy it choked me.

The minute the pair disappeared round the bend, Achiah was upon me like a Furia amidst bloodlust.

“What the hell, Verhan?” she hissed, grabbing a fistful of my tunic. “Can’t you control yourself? You were supposed to help him train, not pound him with your tongue in the bushes.”

Indignation claimed my voice for a bit. “I didn’t pound him. And I did train him, haven’t you seen the result for yourself? He’s fucking brilliant. Careful, for the gods’ sake, before you rip it to pieces.” Huffing, I freed myself from her iron grasp and smoothed out the fabric. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“It ain’t, huh? What, did you happen to trip and orally impale him? Is that what you’re saying?” She planted her hands on her hips, her shiny black eyes hard with disapproval. “I heard Seinnés growling like a hungry tiger cub from thirty paces away and coughed myself hoarse!”

“Sweet gods. Would you stop with the pounding and the growling?” I asked, exasperated. I couldn’t focus with her glowering at me like that.

“Had Yennés seen you two going at it like that…” Achiah wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, expelling a long breath. “And just when I got him to approve your stupid arse as my second.”

Before my addled brain could process the information about my unwanted promotion and I managed to voice a protest along the lines of fuck this shite, her gaze re-sharpened on me. “Are you two shagging?”

“What? No!” Heat flooded my face and I knew my cheeks coloured under her scrutiny. Mostly from resentment, which added to my chagrin. Of course, it must’ve been that one time when I hadn’t been shagging anyone. The irony of the circumstances wasn’t wasted on me. I shook my head. “You don’t understand. It’s not like that at all. He isn’t like that.”

“He might very well not be. But I’ve known you, Verhan Tŭrryés, since we were both wee snots, and short of an oak hole, you’d stick your cock anywhere warm and willing.”

“I think I’m in love with him.” The words tumbled out of my mouth and I couldn’t say which one of us, Achiah or I, ended up more taken aback by my sudden confession.

Another wave of warmth rushed up my neck and I almost laughed. I wouldn’t have thought twice about casually mentioning that I wanted to fuck somebody, or that I already had. But admitting my feelings for another person mortified the hell out of me. Although saying it out loud somehow felt good, too. New. Precious.

For a time, she gaped at me in silence, her chest going up and down in a fast rhythm. “Huh. That I didn’t expect.” After another loaded pause, she added, “Can you keep it in your pants?”

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “I’ve never tried before. But for him, I want to.”

“He’s a good lad, Verhan. So don’t screw this up.” Her eyebrows scrunched together. “And just a fair warning. If this…thing between you and him goes tits up and causes a rift in my squad, I’ll castrate you. With a very dull, jagged blade,” she spat.

“Now listen, Achiah—”

“No, you listen.” Her palm shot up in the air, stopping me flat and almost brushing my nose. “We have no time for this now. The mounted rehearsal’s about to start. Get your arse over to the south paddock. You’ll take command of the squad, seeing that I’m needed at the leaders’ briefing and you’re my second.”

At that, I seethed. Being second meant everything I tried my hardest to avoid: extra work, responsibility and tension headaches. So I opened my mouth to express my—very rude—opinion on the matter, but Achiah had already turned on her heels and rushed off before I could tell her where to go.