“Well then, I shall leave you to it. With two guards to watch over my noble daughter,” he added, glancing around at the whole bunch of boys who were now staring at them in enraptured curiosity, their targets mostly forgotten.
Soon he was gone, taking his son with him, and Emma breathed a sigh of sheer relief seeing them go. She turned to glance upon Arthen who had yet again asked the lady Marie to show him her hands.
“You practised before on your own,” he told her tersely.
The young lady nodded.
“I’m good at it… already. I-I taught myself in secret,” she added softly, glancing warily at the bench upon which the two guards had now seated themselves.
Arthen was now preoccupied to select one of the bows that lay at his feet. “Then there will be some things to unteach, I reckon,” he muttered as he handed the lady a bow, which seemed somewhat lighter than those most of the pupils employed.
“No. I am skilled, you’ll see!” Marie said impassionedly, taking hold of the bow.
“I’m sure you already are for someone of your station. But skilled enough to compete in an archery contest? That we shall indeed see,” he added with a faint smile.
Marie widened her eyes at him.
“The contest… But it was only a jest. A cruel jest my brother made. I did not mean to enter the contest. I only meant to learn from you. I watched you closely when you taught my brother. You are the best I’ve seen,” she said, again making her voice soft so that the guards could not hear her.
“But wouldn’t it be grand to enter the contest just to wipe the smirk off your brother’s face?” Arthen suddenly said, and his fine brown eyes glinted in sheer mischief.
Emma knew he meant well, but she was aware he did not understand what it would cost Marie to do so. Arthen could not see how enraged Marie’s father and brother would be and how they would make her pay for this effrontery.
“Nay,” she found herself stepping in. “Haven’t you seen the way her brother glanced upon her, in sheer hatred? He’s cruel, isn’t he, milady? Cruel to you. And dangerous…”
At first, Marie cast her a look of sheer displeasure, since as a noblewoman she was unused to being addressed so boldly by a commoner. Yet something in Emma’s face must have shown her that Emma had not meant to offend her. She only nodded mutely, now staring at the bow.
“See?” Emma said turning to Arthen. “Don’t encourage her to defy them just as you do! They can harm her in ways more than one. And, unlike you, she is not free to make her own choices.”
Arthen looked upon her in wonder, but suddenly Marie shook her head in grim determination.
“Do you think I could enter the contest?” she asked in an excited voice, dismissing Emma’s anguished glance.
“We shall see in a few days,” Arthen replied. “First we need to strengthen your wrist. A light bow is needed at first. And no shooting arrows for a full week. We’ll practice with bow stringing. Just that.”
“Nay! I'm skilled already and I'll–”
“Do you want to learn properly or not?” Arthen countered firmly, and at last the girl reluctantly nodded.
Emma shook her head in frustration that both of them now seemed oblivious to what she had cautioned. Arthen soon bid the girl to go on the practice field to stand by the other pupils. Yet, before he went to join his new student, Arthen glanced upon Emma and she noted it was one of those rare times he was smiling upon her. It was a bewitching smile.
“It is her choice to make, wife. And, reckless and dangerous as it might be, there is no other choice she can ever make. You see, archery’s in her blood. I know it already. It takes one to know one.”
Emma suppressed a sigh as she stared after him, as he went to see to his students. She left the practice field with a mixture of anguish and joy in her heart. She rejoiced in her newfound love for Arthen, yet she feared for both him and the girl, knowing they now were defying the very kind of people she’d fought so hard to escape.
CHAPTER 19
Arthen returned home late at night, rather tired from today’s events, but excited by the endeavour he had taken upon him. Lady Marie was a true archer, one of those whose heart and soul vibrated at the same time as the arrow released from the string of the bow. He knew that already, although he’d not even allowed her to shoot a single arrow today. He'd known it at once it by the way she held her hands and by the keen, predatory look in her eyes. And he knew it also because he was a true archer in just the same way she was.
Although it was late, he saw that Rowena had waited up for him, and he recalled only too well there was a portentous talk they should have with one another.
“You’re wrong, you know. They’ll hurt her!” Rowena called to him abruptly as soon as he hung his cloak upon the peg by the door.
He decided she was indeed changed. Before, she would not have cared at all of others' welfare. But now she was concerned with Lady Marie’s fate, and he had not missed the look of sheer anger in her eyes when she’d glanced upon the noble girl’s father and brother.
“They can always hurt her. Whether she teaches herself to be a true archer or not. I’d say she has a better chance of fending for herself if she becomes the archer she was born to be,” he said in level tones.
“How can you tell she was born to be an archer?” Rowena asked, her voice held puzzlement.