Cupid's Arrow

By Michelle Brieno

Chapter 1

Distracted by battle, I almost didn’t see the arrow that aimed for my torso. It’s hard to keep an eye out on all 360 degrees, especially when you are already preoccupied. Turning around, I had a split-second view of an arrow coming at me. Before I even had a chance to make a move to block or register my incoming death, a weighted thrust to my body made me blink and step back. I opened my eyes to find a red and white fletched arrow suspended in midair, which then dropped down, harmlessly at my feet. 

Breathing harshly, I twisted my neck left and right, my eyes wildly roaming the area.  What divine miracle had intercepted this skilled archman’s bow? I sent up a prayer of thanks. Searching for answers, I needed to see my enemy’s face. If only to see the next target of this killing spree I was on. 

Pulling away from the action put my mind in a different perspective. As I stood there searching for this lone archer’s face, I caught glimpses of people killing people. All around, the sounds of mankind being removed from this life, roared in my ears. Not that I am innocent in this eradication. Just thinking of the things I have done makes me sick inside, but when your own life is in danger you tend to hold on to it by your fingertips. I have two choices: kill or be a bunny. That’s my mentality right now. However, at the moment, it is time to chase someone else into that rabbit hole.

I’m hunting, glancing around. Not just for my target, but of any kind of danger. There are plenty of opportunities to choose from, but I have a goal already in mind. I spot a lone figure with a bow so I start to run in that direction until I stop short in front of him.

My eyes might be playing tricks on me, but he is one memorable fighter. If you fought this guy you would know it. I know. I have never fought this guy. 

Piercing eyes. The kind of eyes that look into your own and see hidden things.  Beard that makes him rugged looking. No hint of humor, all seriousness in the lines of his face. About 5’ 9 and 3/4ths”. 

One distinguishing feature was that he wore a hat. Now I have seen the enemy wear hats. Heck, even some of my own team has sported the occasional hat wear. I, myself, am wearing a hat. It helped keep the sun out of my eyes. But his choice suited him. No mesh back and the bill had perfect curvage. 

His hat rode high on his head, which gave me a clear view onto his face. He had no sharpness in the lines of his face. An artist had given him a roundness that contrasted with the hawk-like look in his eyes. I gave an involuntary gulp that had me confused because I did not associate it with fear.  No; this quickening feeling was out of place in this situation.

No more did I see because something came into the edge of my vision. I ripped my gaze away from his only to find someone coming at me, their sword in their hand.

Chapter 2

Clash! I barely got my sword there, but I did it. Ugh… the dull burn through my arm just got a little bit brighter. Man was I tired…..

By my watch I’ve been fighting for “The Cause” for a couple of months. Not on and off mind you, because who can do that, but long enough to know what I’m doing. This war is just like all wars before us. Some were fought for land, or for power, or for glory. This one was a bit of all three. But who got the land or the power? Certainly not me. Maybe some glory if I died a great warrior’s death like Achilles or Spartacus. At least they went out fighting. I did not want this war nor did I want to be in it fighting. 

I swung my arm and clashed with his. Again, I felt this animal instinct to preserve my life. I turned and sliced. I turned away at the last second because there are times when I don’t want to see how much damage is done. Especially when I know I’m successful.

I glanced back to where I last saw him. He ranged to about 25 yards away shooting like someone who hits within the little circle on the target. That made him dangerous. Even more so when he turned towards me.

Thank God I can still see him … Really? Were those my first thoughts? Staring at him was making my brain scramble. Confused, I had to calm myself. This is not the time. Focus.

If only I had arrows. This bow is lying useless against my back when there are no arrows to shoot. I ran out not very long ago and am waiting to find some left around to pick up. I feel deadlier when I have my bow. It gives me a strength that my enemies know to fear. I start walking. I knew I had to get to him. The reasons were swirling in my belly as I walked. 

As I made my way towards him, I noticed more of his stature. Imposing…. For one. Strong, for another. Facing off with him actually made me feel like a bunny. Like his arrow would be faster than mine if put to the test. My first instincts were correct. Dangerous. However, my body was betraying me by being attracted to this man. So dangerous could mean for my health or my heart?

The bow in his hand was one I heard was given away in a recent contest. It’s supposed to be heavy, 3.9 pounds to be exact.  Its iron gray grip in his knuckled hand.  A red and white fletched arrow with a wicked looking broad head as its tip, was already resting in the whisker biscuit.  A quiver on his back showed not just red and white fletched arrows, but green and white too. He looks ready for the onslaught. Sexy. A man, not just prepared for this war, but ready to fight it.

 I got to about 15 feet away when I became wary. How should I start this? I don’t think hi would be appropriate in this situation. I can’t think of anything to say. Well I’m lying. Words and sexual thoughts are flashing through my mind, but I’m assuming they would not be appropriate at the moment. A flash of movement catches the side of my eyes and I quickly turn to see a man coming at me full speed. 

Now I wasn’t turning because I perceived him as a threat. He wasn’t coming at me to hurt me. He was running my way to get away from the battle. It happens. People get scared and try to leave before we are allowed to go home. What bothered me was not that he was running full speed at me, but that it seemed as if he didn’t see me. Like he was going to crash int…………

Chapter 3

Blackness. Then my senses started working. Slowly noises were registering. Touch was coming as well for I felt arms around my legs and a hard shoulder in my belly. I was being carried. Movement jostled my body and I could feel sharp pains in my body. I started to remember some asshole falling on me. Did I get knocked out because his stupid shield hit my head and his armor crushed me? Or did I do it by using my head as landing gear? Now a shield and metal knight armor can be useful, but it would weigh someone like me down so I don’t recommend it for small children or dumb assholes that run into people.

I started to wiggle to get down, but then he whispered, “Don’t move.” Now I’m thankful that I was just hurt because it helps excuse me for actually listening to him. Like I could say my brain was too muddled for thinking straight. I was letting an enemy, my enemy!, take me somewhere. Where… I don’t know. Letting him lead me blindly. There was a feeling in my chest that told me I was safe, even as my mind was in a debate with it. 

I tried to turn my head and see, but all I got were some blurred glimpses of people. Less and less people showed up in these sightings. I finally had enough and I started to wiggle some more. He slapped at my ass and hissed, “Wait!” That’s it! I pulled my knee up to hit him, but he must have known my intentions for he dropped me on my ass.

Glaring up at him, butt smarting, I said, “You think there could have been another way to set me down? Besides the obvious?” He casually pulled off his sheath and laid it on the ground with his bow, then crouched down and got up in my space. My body tingled with his closeness. The closer he was, the more I could see how green and brown mixed to create his eyes. His sharp nose almost touched mine. His black beard that looked thick in places. He had a bottom lip that was just a bit fuller than his top lip. Words that came out of his lips sounded low and definitely all male, especially when he said, “It was the easiest way.”

Chapter 4

His statement caught me by surprise. It was something I could hear one of my own men say when they wanted to be funny. Was this guy joking with me? I thought I saw the humor in his eyes, but it was replaced by another emotion. One I was not used to seeing. Interest. Like he was trying to get a feel for the real me.

Now the real me is pretty easy to see. I can’t hide my emotions behind a mask. I have seen people smile at you before they take you down. Not me. My intentions are loud and clear. Of course, it wasn’t always good to show emotions since people could perceive you as weak or easy prey. I tried to learn how to hide or use it to give me an upper hand instead. Not that it always worked. Like I said, easy to read.  Maybe that’s why I’m well qualified for this war. My objective is to kill the enemy, so I don’t beat around the bush. I go through it and then hide the body in the bush. I’m crazy like that.

Looking around I see he has not taken us far. This group of high rocks was something I had glanced at as I made my way in, but I dismissed them. I had not seen any advantage they could give me against the enemy. Seeing now, I had mistaken their height. Their tallness made this place semi concealed. I could hear more than I could see. 

He’s still looking at me. Looking back at this Archer, which I nicknamed him, I noticed he had backed off a bit giving me my space, but was still very close. Closer than I liked any enemy to be. That’s right. Remember who he is and who you are. Calming my mind I asked, “What are you looking at? Besides an enemy?” Still regarding me with interest he posed, “Are we enemies?” What a question! But now that I look at him, I realize something. He is not wearing anything to indicate if he’s on a side.

  In history, military uniforms have seen many changes from the colorful and elaborate clothing to utilitarian camouflage. A way to identify each person into groups, the “them” and the “us”. Our uniforms, if you could call them that, were simple. The clothes off our backs, our weapons, and a strip of fabric. The strip of fabric was indication on what rank or skill level you are.  Stupid, really since I believed and knew that I was more skilled than some higher up thought I should be. I was wearing blue jeans, a long sleeve shirt (even in the heat) with my sleeves pushed up to my elbows, brown boots that have seen better times, and I wore my weapons for easy access. My strip of fabric was around my forehead under my hat. It was hard for my team to see it, but I liked that it helped keep the sweat out of my eyes.  A little secrecy never hurt either. It helps me get closer to my enemies before they know it.

Now Archer here was of similar nature. He wore faded blue Cinch jeans, a long sleeve sweater type shirt with a white tee shirt underneath, and dusty brown boots. I saw no strip on him and wondered if he liked to keep it hidden too. Because being unmarked is rare. By the bulge in his pocket, I recognized that he had a knife and reminded myself that he was still armed no matter that his main weapons were not on him. 

In all the confusion and interruptions, I almost forgot what I had seen. Why I went to him in the first place. But I had to know. I looked him straight in the eyes. “What happened?” I whispered. Dammit. I had wanted to sound strong and sure, not this breathy whisper coming from me. I knew he didn’t need clarification. He was the one person who knew what I meant. Who saw what I saw. Unless he had looked away, but I doubt it. He looked like someone who wanted to see the damage his shot would have made.  

Archer shrugged his shoulder and went to stand up. I scrambled to follow. I must have hit the ground harder than I thought for I stood up on wobbly legs. NO!! You will not get away. “Where do you think you are going? I asked a question and I expect… no I DEMAND an answer.” He laughed. He laughed! If I weren’t in the process of getting mad I would have noticed that his laugh made my knees buckle. Ok I noticed it right away, but I chose to ignore it. He was about to find out that I was not as friendly as I looked. That while I may not be as intimidating as he was; I am still someone not to trifle with. I drew my sword. He paused at the sound of my sword leaving its sheath. “Do you expect to cut the answer out of me?” he smirked. Noticing my deadly serious face he stopped grinning. 

“I do not expect you to know the answer. Hell, how can you if I can’t even explain how your arrow just stopped inches from my heart?  I do think you should tell me what you know or at least suspect. If you choose not to answer, you are no use to me. I may just have imagined what I saw and decide this insanity of being with you and doing nothing is over.” 

All I could hear was the sound of my own breath and feel the beat of my heart speeding up. Odd that even the sounds of war could not penetrate this moment between us. His eyes blazed into mine and I tried to read his face. Damn if he knew that I was nervous and, to be honest, a little bit scared.

Chapter 5

The blade grew heavy in my hand as I waited for his answer. Archer stared at me, forever it seemed. I felt silly and lowered my sword. No, this man would not be intimidated by the likes of me and acting like I had the upper hand was stupid and I made the decision to not care about what happened. At least not to him.  I sheathed my sword and walked over to the spaces in between the rocks and peeked out to see as battle still waged on. Good news was that the battle was slowing down. Strange that that was good news, but it meant I could go back. Check on my team since I was worried about them. Not that they were incompetent or anything. In fact, quite the opposite. 

At first the team just fell in together because it increased our chances of survival. I chose them for the same reason they chose me. Strength in numbers. Fighting on your own meant sleep deprivation and constant lookout. Fighting within a team meant fewer burdens on your shoulders. We learned how to work together and take advantage of each other’s strengths. Coming to rely on them watching my back as I watched theirs. Eventually, I let my guard down and we fell in together as friends. 

I looked back at the archer and I couldn’t help but watch him put on his weapons. Since he didn’t slouch, he seemed even taller. He never hesitated or thought twice about how he put on his gear. It was second nature to him. Of course that’s how a great warrior should be. You use these tools to protect your life so they are an extension of you. I had gotten pretty good with my own weapons and I felt confident in battle. But where I looked to my team for help and even welcomed it, this man looked to be alone and still kicking ass. 

He found me looking at him and my face flushed. My attraction to this man was downright irritating. I felt off kilter and since the situation had not been solved, it was also stupid. He walked towards me and I straightened out my posture. No needs to look like a she wolf subservient in sight of her opponent. 

I cocked my head at him, impatient for his answer. He must have sensed my irritation for he grinned. Now that had my inner woman’s attention! Down girl. His grin made me laugh inside and just as I was starting to get a smile on my face, he stopped it cold. “I think I need to get new arrows that fly straight.” Huh? I sputtered, “And why would you think that? Because you didn’t kill me??” “Well I usually don’t aim at something unless I intent to kill it,” he responded. I did agree with him on that point, but since his target, ME, was standing in front of him, it made me wish I still had my sword in my hand. 

Who was I kidding? This is war and there is no wishing things were different. I went to yank out my sword when his hand snatched out and grabbed my wrist. “What did you expect? Answers just because you insist on them? Just because I haven’t taken you down does not mean that I’m not a threat to you. Is that what you thought? That we would be friends? Fighting you would be like fighting a child. No honor in that, “he cruelly uttered. 

I, at first, felt shame for letting my emotions run so wildly towards the surface. That he could read me so easily. His words let me know he saw the color of my strip and assessed me to be the lowly fighter it said I was. Then rage slapped me in the head. I wrenched my wrist out of his hand. “You think you know me, but you know nothing. Why would you say that? Because I wear this?” I yanked at my hat, which got stuck on my hair through the ponytail hole. Not caring if I ripped out some hair, I pulled it off. Under it, was my strip of fabric that spoke for me what I was in military rank.  I ripped that off too and shook it in his face. “This may indicate what rank I’m at, but it does not define me. Just because you’re not marked does not make you better than me. Don’t worry “Archer”… I’m sure that shot was a fluke and you will have another chance to shoot. But this time I’ll be ready.” I hurled the strip at him and turned away. “That was your mistake. Not perceiving me as an enemy might be a fatal choice on your behalf.”  I left throwing these last words over my shoulder. 

Chapter 6

On my way back I had to concentrate on my surroundings. My head was in shambles so I did not want to go inside of it. I did not want him to win by acknowledging that he got to me. Or let the little girl in my head confess that maybe his assumptions about me were right. 

 The battlefield was wetter when I walked back. I could feel my boots sliding like it was mud, but this was the kind of mud I hated washing off my boots at night. Dirt mixed in with blood. In the distance I could see stragglers leaving and stray fights still going on. Daylight was still around us for at least 2 hours. A cool breeze was moving around the stench of death. Bodies left in gruesome positions made me wonder where did people see glory in this? This battlefield of corpses will have men hailing and praising the honor it bestows upon us tonight around the nightly fires. Yet, what honor is there when dozens of flies are buzzing around and your funeral is getting thrown in a ditch along with dozens of others?

I hurried on. I wanted to run. Run away from this day. However, I would grit it out. Get inner strength from it. As I walked, I picked up and examined arrows along the way. I needed to replenish my non-existing stock. I also looked for useable items. A canteen here. A knife there. They would not need it now. In fact, I think they would be glad if these items could be of some use to a comrade. Whether he or she was an enemy, or not, it does not matter. 

I was almost to the line of trees my team said they would meet, when my concentration had slipped. A hand grabbed me and all my thoughts went directly to my anger against Archer. No matter that this guy looked nothing like him. My fist connected with his face. He took a step backwards, holding back the gush of blood that stemmed from his nose. I was confronted with laughter when my team came rushing up, smiling in joyous occasion. They always did like a good punch. 

They circled me and I couldn’t help my own smile that showed up. Relief filled my chest; it was good to see them. I turned to the guy I punched. “Sorry man, I thought you were Kevin.” He nodded, still holding his nose and left. The shortest one in front of me shouted at his retreating back, “Come back later when I’ve got her simmered down.” He smiled at me and asked, “Why would you go and tell him a thing like that? Now he’s gonna think he’s as handsome as me.” The guy to my left gave Kevin a playful shove. “No, he is gonna think he’s got one hell of an ugly mug. Especially now with a broken nose.” He examined Kevin’s face. “Hey, you guys could be twins!” “Shut up Charles.” As these two bickered I started walking. They could go back and forth forever and if I was going to listen to them, I needed to get comfortable. The tallest man of our team started walking with me. Brandon was the quietest, but also the most laid back in the group. I looked around the spot they chose and was pleased with the layout. Good cover with still enough space to fight if a nighttime raid happened. I threw down my weapons on my bedding and stretched. My aching muscles needed a good straightening out.

“This is a good spot. Who got here first?” Brandon sat down on his bedding and yawned, “Charles, I think. Him and Kevin were arguing about who was getting the best spot when I came up.” “I shook my head. “You’d think after years of fighting they would have run out of things to argue about.” Brandon smiled. “Brothers never stop fighting even when there is peace. Especially with Kevin. He likes the last word.” I paused thinking about my own fight with Archer and mumbled, “I can see why.” Brandon examined my face and asked, “You ok? You seem upset… Bad day?” I chuckled. “Is there ever a good day in war?” “Every day you survive is a good day,” he claimed.

I silently agreed. Brandon was the wisest one of us all. At least 2 years older and fighting for a lot longer, he was always looking on the bright side. Usually, I was grateful because while I did my duty and fought, I was never ok with it. His way of looking at the world kept the team in hopeful spirits. This would end and the world would be beautiful again. There was never a bad day when Brandon was around. At least, he could make it go away with his words. 

Kevin and Charles came up. It was time for our ritual deciding of who was doing what work.  After the fighting for the day, we all wanted to just rest and be. However, there were duties to be done. Fetching more water, gathering food and firewood, and we always delegated the night watch.

As we were handing out duties, jokes, and the jug of water, a guy came running over. “Carts! The carts are coming!” We all inwardly groaned. The carts were for bringing in the dead. It wasn’t anyone’s favorite job. It was hard, exhausting work that makes you feel dejected. And I knew what was coming. “Hey warrior princess. I believe you’re up,” Kevin spoke. Of course he would. I grimaced and was slowly getting to my feet when Brandon shot up saying, “I’ll go.”  I started shaking my head, but he insisted. “I want to get some sleep tonight. You guys can fight over night watch without me.” I mouthed “thank you” at him. I don’t think Brandon has ever forgotten the time he found me puking my guts out behind the carts. I watched him walk away while Kevin started complaining. “Damn, I was gonna rock, paper, scissor him to fetch water! Why he do that for you,” he directed at me. Charles imputed, “Maybe so he doesn’t have to share his sandwich with her dolt. She’s gonna go get firewood AND do night watch and I’m gonna get the grub. Why you complaining? Fetching water means you get to go by that harlot tent that follows the soldiers.” Kevin brightened up and puffed out his chest. He walked away like a rooster and I turned away to smile. Trust Charles to divert the argument. 

As I roamed around the trees looking for firewood, I thought about the sandwich comment. It was an inside joke between the team because of how I met Brandon. In the beginning, I had heard of nighttime raids and hell if I was going down that way. If I saw death, I wanted to watch it coming, not sneak up on me while I was asleep. No sleep and hardly any food meant I was a mess. God only knows how I looked to the enemy those first few weeks. In the beginning, I must have scared the enemy not with my fighting skills, but that I actually looked like the grim reaper coming for them. 

Couple weeks in, I met Brandon. Staggering around after a battle all I wanted was a place to hide and sleep. Starving, in a rotten mood, and anxious I had stumbled over someone’s foot. Naturally I was certain that it was their fault and snapped at them. He stood up and I was so tired, so mentally exhausted that I said, “Listen I’m tired, I’m starved and if you pick a fight with me, I might eat you.” He paused and roared with laughter. He then invited me to share his sandwich. Roast beef. Afterwards, we had seen each other on the battlefield and slowly started watching each other’s back. We met up with Kevin and Charles later. Kevin had started a fight that was turning into a losing battle so Brandon and I jumped in. Afterwards Brandon announced, “I’ll help you when you get into trouble like that, but don’t expect some of my sandwich. That’s already claimed.” It sealed the deal for our team. Now I just stay with a bunch of knuckleheads that are brothers to me. 

Since we have gotten so close, it was no good pretending nothing was up when we all had our nightly talk. I loved our talks. Not only do I get to hear stories or jokes, but also I like our reflect talks. Reflect talks are when we share stories but of a serious nature. For three days I comforted Charles because he wanted to vent worries about Kevin. Brandon will tell me the truth even if it’s hard to hear. We had that talk after the incident when he caught me puking. So of course I wanted to talk about Archer. 

Archer and his magical arrow. I want to know what I saw. I l mean I know what I (with a capital) saw, but I need their advice. I think I also needed to confess at least being attracted to this guy. And I was. I found him rugged and mysterious that thrilled me in places. Like my chest. It got both a butterfly feeling and a tightness feeling that made me nervous. He made me interested in how he moved. He made me angry. Most of all he made me think about him. 

I put the wood to get the fire ready for tonight. My fingers are all clumsy because I’m thinking about Archer’s eyes and voice and not wood. I set about cleaning my boots and now I’m angry. The why is what’s making me all confused. It seemed that he intentionally made me feel at ease with him and then took away that ease when he said he should have killed me. I may not have a lot of knowledge about men, but I thought I could sense this interest was not all one sided. Turns out I was wrong when he made me foolish and, yes, child like when he called out my fascination. 

He called me a bunny! I settled into my bed, fuming. If there is one thing that will guarantee a reaction, it’s assuming I’m a bunny. The strips of fabric that gauge rank are given out not based on our actual skill level. They are based on what others think of us. I had a rank of a lower level. However, I know that my skill level should be way higher. You can’t have killed people with the efficiency I have and be a novice. So he thought of me as a child? I’ll make him regret that bunny comment.

Chapter 7

I awoke to the sounds of crackling firewood. I was rested even though I only got a little bit of sleep. When you get any rest at all, every bit helps. The sky was not yet a dark black. Stars were shimmering where clouds did not cover. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and sat up. Brandon and Charles were sitting down talking and they acknowledged me with a smile. On stiff legs I walked over to the water bucket and drank away the cottonmouth taste. “You hungry? The food’s over here,” called Charles. I went back and grabbed a plate and sat down on the ground with my back against a makeshift log. I smelled potatoes and meat. “Mmmm… this smells good. What did you trade for this?” I grabbed a piece of meat and savored it. A bit cold and in desperate need of some salt, but it was still tender. “What is this, venison?” Charles grinned and nodded. “Good guess. That guy you hit earlier, he was coming over to tell the guys and me about a deer they found. Wanted to know if we wanted in.” Laughing Brandon added, “We thought the price was going to go up with that hit you gave him. Turns out we got it for less. You scared him. Your rank might go up now with that shiner he’s sporting.” They laughed their heads off while I just rolled my eyes and dug into the food. I didn’t want to think about my rank at the moment, not until I was in a better mood.

“Where’s Kevin? Wait don’t tell me. I think I already know.” Kevin always said that after a hard day’s work he liked to talk to “civilized people of the oldest profession.” His words, not mine. I personally think he confuses the concept of talking. Talking with one head and talking with his other head are two different things. Charles shrugged, but I knew it bothered him. I mean how was Kevin giving payment? That was one of the many worries Charles had about his brother. However, Kevin is a force of nature. He does want he wants and it was hard to wrangle him in. At least he brought the water before he went on his nocturnal activities. 

I looked over at Brandon and saw bags under his eyes. He looked more tired than earlier and I instantly felt guilt. I shouldn’t have let him do my work for me. He already does so much. “Hey, Brandon you need anything? Want to crash?” “Nah, I’m going to stay awake for a while longer,” he insisted. If anyone were the leader of our team, I would automatically put him in that role. Our team had no leader though. If any decisions had to be made, we always doled out ideas and the best one was picked. One day Brandon would be in charge, the next maybe Charles. I have been known to take lead on some tasks, but in no way was I the leader of my team. This arrangement worked out even when we had to make decisions on the fly. 

We all stared into the flames watching them dance and sway while silence surrounded us. Then I broke the silence. “Something crazy happened today,” I started. I paused, seeing both sets of eye’s flicker to me. I kept my face towards the fire and expressed about the arrow and then highlights about the exchange between Archer and me. Regarding my feelings towards Archer, I kept quiet. Charles leaned forward and Brandon’s forehead scrunched up during the telling of my story. They did not ask any questions, just listened until the end. Afterwards when no more words fell from my lips, silence descended on our camp as we all processed this event.

“So you’re saying…. this arrow just stopped? I’m trying to imagine this in my mind, but the arrow’s flight just… stopped?” Brandon said and that got the conversation underway. “Yeah, I mean it was eerie. I wasn’t even sure that’s what it did at first. But arrows do not descend like that. It was almost like… an invisible shield just… blocked the arrow.” I stuttered all over this answer because it was so impossible. I got up and grabbed an arrow from my quiver. I proceeded to physically show them what the arrow did. Charles bit his lip then cautiously asked, “The arrow never touched you. Are you sure it was aimed at you?” He didn’t like to imply that I was misrepresenting what happened, but Charles enjoyed playing devil’s advocate. I hesitated because I had just turned, but then I nodded my head. “I mean I have no way of knowing if I was the actual target, but even if I happened to step in this arrow’s path, it’s aim was true. I should be dead.” I may have whispered these last words. I flopped down in my seat. Right after the arrow all I could focus on was Archer. My memory looked at this incident that would have been my death and compared it to Archer and decided which was more important. The mind sure has a weird way of classifying importance, if the way he looked and then the argument we had was obviously more notable. It was after my mind had cleared of the fog of him was when I fully grasped that I would have died. Again, I thanked God for his intervention. 

I looked over and watched their faces. Brandon began to speak when a voice yelled into our camp. “Hey guys. You guys start dinner without me?” Kevin swaggered into the firelight. “If we’d have waited for you, we would die from hunger,” said Charles.  Kevin grabbed his plate from him began eating like we starve him. Brandon said, “They don’t feed you? They should since they help work out your appetite.” “Spoils of war my man. Spoils of war.” He inhaled his food. “So what did I miss? Anyone got good gory stories tonight?” I quickly repeated what happened to get him up to speed. He frowned and said, “Sounds like magic to me. You sure this guy was not a wizard or anything.” I rolled my eyes and said, “If he was, he could have turned me into a toad. Ribbet Ribbet.” We all laughed and it felt good. 

Brandon chimed in, “So you never met this guy before? I mean why would he take you away from the heat of the battle and antagonize you? That’s the bizarre thing.” He stared into the fire as if he would find the answers in there. “Maybe,” said Charles slowly, “you are a target. Maybe he needed another plan of attack since his arrow didn’t kill you.” I shook my head with certainty to both responses. “He didn’t attack me. Not even when I pulled my sword on him,” I said. Then Kevin shocked me by asking, “Why didn’t you just kill him?” 

Why didn’t I just kill him? That question had been tucked away, forgotten, up until it had been spoken out loud. My hesitation had them all looking at me. My face began to warm from all the blood rushing to it. I did not like this attention especially when it started to register on some faces what the truth might be. 

Chapter 8

Kevin jumped up. “You like him!!” He started laughing. “Man, I was wondering if you were some strange hybrid of woman who didn’t need any male interaction.” “Kevin,” I tried to interrupt him, but he kept plowing on. “Here this whole time I thought…” “Kevin!” Charles snapped. “What?! After all this time we have known her and you guys aren’t a bit interested in this development?” He took a swig from his canteen, but I could see his smile around the rim of it while he drank. He put it down and mockingly put his hands under his chin and said, “I don’t know. I’m feeling brotherly and I’m gonna need to talk to this guy about his intentions.”

OH MY GOD! Ok… if I just play it cool I’d have a chance at getting out of this conversation alive. I just needed to be calm, cool, and collected. I took a deep breath and instantly saw my chances of that fly away when I lay back in the dirt and threw my arm over my face. Way to go girl. That’s how it’s done. Kevin whooped and ran over and pulled my arm off. I could see his white smile fill his face while he leaned over me. 

“So you do like him! I can tell,” he proudly announced. Hmm… what gave it away? I pushed him off me and huffed. I could tell he would not drop this. Kevin was a button pusher and I had just, freely, handed one over to him. “Alright, alright! I found him… attractive,” I admitted. I tried to put a nonchalance look on my face. Like this happened to me all the time. Charles was smirking and Brandon… well he was in shadows so I couldn’t read the look on his face. “So…did he find you attractive as well?” Kevin asked. 

This torment was never going to end. I wished someone would come up and start a battle right now, catching us off guard. I’d rather be fighting barehanded than be in this embarrassing interrogation. Especially when they started talking about me like I wasn’t there. “I’m sure he was. I mean she’s not an ugly girl,” stated Charles. “No I wasn’t gonna say ugly. Just she walks and talks like us so I’m just asking if he noticed she was a girl,” said Kevin. “That’s a stupid thing to say. Of course you can tell body wise.” “Well she covers it up. I’m just thinking…” “That’s the problem Kevin. You think because you discover the woman’s body every chance you get that you have the right idea of beauty. On a battlefield appearance is the last of her worries.”

My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. I hated that you can see the hurt and dejected look on my face, but I wasn’t going to hide it.  “Well thanks a lot guys!” I shouted. “Just what every girl needs to hear. That she’s unappealing. For your information, no he didn’t find me interesting at all so you can stop with your matchmaking ideas.” I stood up and stomped to my bedroll. “I’m on first watch. Get some sleep guys. I’ll wake one of you when I’m tired.” Charles and Kevin started to talk, but I just held up my palm stopping them. My pride has been demolished with all this talk and I was done. Maybe I’d wake them up with a bucket full of water to the face. That thought cheered me up some. 

We all got ready for the night, but the usual sounds are absent. The murmurs, the jokes, and the laughter were replaced with tension and an edginess that filled the camp. You could hear quiet “good nights” but I didn’t acknowledge it. I was too busy fuming inside. I tried to quiet down so I could focus on the darkness all around us, but it was difficult. Thoughts were zooming in and out of my mind so fast. I kept shaking my head thinking, like an etch a sketch, I could erase them. Many things stood out as I examined my thoughts. I’ve never gotten so angry with my team and it was made worse by being over some stranger who crossed my path. Brandon stopped talking after a while and that struck me as odd because usually, he was the one I talked to the most. One question hung me up: What was going to happen the next time I see Archer? I thought about all this and more as the night marched on.

By Michelle Brieno