The Silver Arrows Ch. 01

This is the first story I've written for an audience, not counting the threads I wrote for Chyoo. Anyway, this is the first chapter of the Silver Arrows and there is very little sex going on in this one, so it's pretty damn plot-heavy. So if you're reading it for sex, you should look for another story. If you do read it, I hope you enjoy it. And please leave feedback and/or constructive criticism. (It's the only payment I get after all.)

Chapter 1: The Archery Tournament.

'The city of Triump, a place were everyone can make a fortune and experience adventures! And that is why I'm here! Just look at it, walls high enough to keep a dragon out and gates sturdy enough to give any invading army second thoughts about breaking it down.'

'Would you shut up already!' the guard at Triump's gate yelled. 'I only needed to know your reason for visiting the city, I didn't need a description of it! It's right behind me, idiot!' A red-faced, slightly hung over guard shouted in anger.

He had directed his anger at the youth in front of him, a young man who seemed barely out of his teens with unruly auburn hair and blue eyes that sparkled with excitement.

'Ah, sorry.' the young man said, while scratching his cheek in embarrassment. 'I'm here for the archery tournament, held by Count van Ryvel.' he told the guard, while gesturing to the longbow and quiver strapped on his back.

The guard looked at them and scoffed, the bow was a sad, weathered thing that looked like it could fall apart at any moment. He seriously doubted that the young lad could win the archery contest, that would be if they even let him participate.

The youth was skinny, and stood around 5 foot and 11 inches in height and was wearing a green, woolen tunic that seemed too large for him as well as a pair of brown trousers that were ripped in places, and a pair of muddy black boots.

But the guard decided to give the young man a chance, and after giving him some directions he send him on his way. 'Good luck!' he yelled as the youth passed through the gate, and then silently added. 'You're going to need it...'

* * * *

Even though the city had looked impressive from the outside, with its high walls and sturdy looking gates, the inside was...less impressive. Most buildings Teran passed were made of wood, and only one storey high. Garbage was piled on the winding, cobbled roads and drunks and beggars seemed to be everywhere, if he wasn't so lost in thought he might have noticed how the pouch of a sleeping guard was picked. (Well...If he was sleeping, that is.)

But Teran barely noticed any of it, his mind to set on adventure. He just followed the directions the guard had given him, and let his mind drift as he walked.

He thought of his home, the small fishing village so close to the deep forests of Woads were his mother had taught him to hunt with bow and arrow for all those years. His father had always wanted him to be a fisherman like he was, but Teran never had the patience for it.

When he had overheard the news of the archery tournament in the local tavern, he saw it as his chance to get out of his village and make a name for himself. He had packed his things the next day, and set out after saying his goodbyes to his family. His mother had wished him luck while his sister teased that he could not possibly be a worst adventurer than he was a fisherman, and his father did nothing but shake his hand and give him a pouch of coppers.

Those coppers came in handy now, as Teran passed a pastry stand and remembered he had not eaten since this morning. So after buying himself two small pastries, and making pleasant conversation with the woman behind the stand, he was on his way again, while wolfing down one of his pastries.

He eventually ended up in a part of the city that seemed richer than the one he just came from. The streets were broader and cleaner, the buildings larger and made of stone and the guards...well, at least they were awake. Eventually he spotted the location of the tournament, it wasn't very hard to miss seeing as there was a large crowd collected in front of the broad, three-storey mansion. Teran quickly finished his remaining pastry, and ran up to the crowd.

Teran tapped one of the archers on his shoulder.

'Hey, how do I participate in the tournament?" he asked as soon as the man turned to face him. He was richly dressed, and wrinkled his nose when he looked at Teran, as if he smelled something foul.

'Talk to him.'

The archer had pointed to a man sitting behind a table that blocked the entrance to the mansion, and he was currently talking to another man that wished to enter the archery tournament.

Teran thanked the archer he had been speaking to, but was ignored, and approached the table to wait behind the man that wished to enter the archery tournament as well. When the man before him was finished, and went to join the group of waiting participants, Teran walked up to the desk.

The man behind the desk was quite obviously a scribe, there were stains of in on his fingers, and even one on the tip of his long, beak-like nose. He seemed to be quite old as well, and missing most of his grey hair. When he looked up from his scroll and spotted Teran, he seemed quite surprised to see him standing there.

'Are you here for the tournament...?' he asked slowly.

'Yes sir!'

The scribe sighed.

'Sorry boy, but only those of noble blood can participate in tournaments.' he then scratched his face irritably. 'Darn shame as well, used to be that archery was the only sport in which a commoner could prove he was just as good or better than a noble.'

He then briefly looked down at the scroll, before looking around and focusing on Teran again. 'But it appears that we have one more spot open for this tournament, and it seems every noble from Shyf has already entered...So what's your name boy?'

'Teran Devis, sir.' Teran quickly answered. 'But wouldn't you get in trouble for this?'

The scribe penned down his name.

'Age?' he asked Teran, and then added. 'And believe me, if I had to throw out Lord So-and-so to even out the numbers both me and Count van Ryvel would get into far more trouble.'

'Ah...' Teran muttered, and then quickly added ' I'm eighteen, sir.'

The scribe wrote down Teran's name and age on the scroll before looking back up at him with a grin. "Win this one for me, would you?" he said, before standing up and going within the mansion.

A few moments later it was announced by a servant clad in black and green that the tournament was about to begin, and Teran followed the rest of the participants to a field behind the mansion. There, they were greeted with a green field and targets placed at various distances. Placed against the walls of the mansions, safely away from the archers, were the stands for the visiting nobles to view the match.

As the first two competitors were called, Teran and the others watched from the side-lines as they greeted the crowd and began the tournament by taking aim at the closest target and loosening their arrows. After they both loosed three arrows, the points each archer had earned were tallied up, and the one with the highest score went to the next round.

Teran watched match after match, until finally his name was called.

When he went to stand next to his opponent a shiver of excitement coursed through him, his opponent was an older man with gray streaks in his black hair and beard.

A curious expression was on his face when Teran went to stand next to him, but he did not seem particularly outraged to have a commoner in the tournament, unlike some of the nobles...

'An outrage, who does he think he is? -I thought no commoners were not allowed to participate in this tournament? -filthy scoundrel, he should be punished. -throw him out!' Teran caught bits of what the nobles were saying about him, and they didn't sound particularly pleased...

And just when he was sure that he would have to leave the archery tournament without even loosing an arrow, his opponent showed that he had a particular knack for silencing crowds.

'SILENCE!' The old man boomed.

And everyone was silent.

'Let the boy be in the tournament.' he offered. 'Or have you all forgotten that when those Yslanders raided our shores forty years ago, that it was thanks to the peasants' skills with their bows that we drove them back to the frozen shores from where they came?'

'No we have not forgotten, Lord Arden,' A man in rich purple clothes said as he stood up. 'But I do remember the law put in place by King Leonard Goldhand that those of common blood can not participate in a tournament held by those of noble blood.'

'Bah,' Lord Arden replied. 'You know as well as I do, Baron Eton, that many people, commoners as well as nobles, find the law preposterous. As many of the new laws sanctioned by old King Leonard before he passed away, or do I have to remind you of the time when Feeding a hound cheese was punishable by death?'

'I lost my son that way.' someone from the crowd muttered.

"Or," Lord Arden continued, before the Baron could reply. 'Are you afraid that your son will be bested by Teran here?'

Baron Eton's face suddenly became beet red.

'Fine!' he shouted. 'Let him participate!' and sat down fuming at Lord Arden.

After the conversation with Baron Eton, they could finally begin, and since Lord Arden had won the coin toss, he was the one that shot first. 'Don't expect me to go easy on you just because I defended you, boy.' he told Teran while he nocked his arrow.

'It wouldn't be any fun if you did.' Teran replied with a grin.

Lord Arden chuckled at his response, and released the bowstring.

The arrow cut through the air, and sank into the target close to the gold centre of the target. When it was Teran's turn, his loosed arrow hit the centre of the the gold, surprising both Lord Arden and the crowd. Lord Arden's next shot was far worse than his first, hitting the very top of the target, while Teran's arrow sank into the gold right next to his first one.

'Damn you're good, boy.' Lord Arden muttered after loosing his third, and last arrow, this one hit the target slightly closer to the first arrow he had loosed.

'Thank you, sir.' Teran replied politely, while he loosed the arrow he had just nocked, this one sinking into the target next to the two arrows of Lord Arden.

After that final shot the points of Teran and Lord Arden were tallied up while they both collected their arrows. When they returned to their position, the servant clad in black and green came forth to announce the winner.

'Teran Devis wins and advance to the next round! Lord Gabriel Arden is out of the tournament!'

'I almost regret standing up for you the way I did.' Lord Arden said with a grin as they both left the field. 'If I did I might have lasted a bit longer.' he chuckled, and then grasped Teran's hand and shook it. 'Good luck, boy.'

As it turned out Teran and Lord Arden had been the last participants of this round, and two servants in black and green removed the closest target for the next round. And after that was done, the next two participants were called forward.

Teran won the second round as well, and the third. He even managed to beat Baron Eton's son, causing the Baron to storm away from the tournament with anger and disappointment plain to see on his face. So after all his winnings, it came as no surprise when Teran ended up in the finals.

This time Teran found that he was facing off against a tall, lean man that looked about to be his age. But it was hard to tell as most of his face was obscured by a broad brimmed, black hat with a long red feather stuck in it. Teran recognized him as the man that had entered the tournament before him, and had entered under the name Byron Crimsonhawk, which sounded suspiciously like a fake name...but the Count had allowed it.

'Alright every one, it is time to start the final round.' the servant in black and green announced, before tossing a silver coin into the air. 'Call it.'

'Heads.' Teran said, while the coin was in the air.

'Well, I guess that leaves me with tails.' Byron mused when the servant caught the coin.

'Tails,' the servant announced, after opening his hand. 'Byron Crimsonhawk may shoot first.'

After that announcement, Byron nocked his first arrow and took aim, leaving Teran to admire his bow. It was more a piece of art than a weapon, made of dark red wood and adorned with spun golden filigrees. But he also showed that it was not just his bow that had gotten him this far, but also his skill, because the arrow he loosed just narrowly missed the centre of the target.

Teran sighed, this was probably the first time during the tournament that he was nervous. (Not counting the first round, when he was afraid that he would get kicked out...or worse.) But he also felt excitement as he pulled an arrow from the quiver, and nocked it on his bow. After taking careful aim, he loosed his arrow. After it cut through the air, it slammed into the target right next to that of Byron's, also narrowly missing the gold centre.

It was Byron's turn again, he pulled the string of his bow back and aimed carefully. When he loosed his arrow this time, it did not miss the gold centre.

Teran was not sure how he would beat that...

His hard was hammering in his chest as he nocked his arrow, and slowly pulled the drawstring to his ear. With a deep breath Teran calmed his beating hard, and with a final glimpse to the target he slowly released the breath he had been holding, as well as the arrow.

Teran watched as his arrow cut through the air, flying towards the centre were Byron's arrow was already imbedded. Then, a gasp of surprise went through the watching crowd as Teran's arrow split that of Byron in two as it sank into the centre of the target.

'Well, it's my loss.' Byron announced when it was his turn to shoot.

'Eh?' the servant said dumbfounded. 'But sir, you have one more shot left.'

'That doesn't matter,' Byron sighed. 'What Teran just did...I only heard of such a feat in the heroic ballads minstrels sing about. It's my loss, Teran wins this tournament and is the finest archer in Shyf!'

Teran had not expected the loud cheer after Byron's announcement, and had stood dumbfounded while Byron shook his hand. 'Perhaps I shouldn't mention that I'm actually from Woads.' he thought to himself.

After he had collected his arrows, and received praise from some of his other competitors as well as a pat on the back of Lord Arden, Teran was called inside to receive his prize from Count van Ryvel. Thankfully the one that guided him to the great hall was someone familiar, it was the scribe from before. As they walked he introduced himself as Erwin Booker, and he told Teran how great of an archer he was and that he knew that he was going to win, something in his eyes.

But Teran was only half-listening, he was admiring the mansion while they walked. While Erwin tried to tell him about how Baron Eton had tried to disqualify him, Teran was admiring the the several paintings that hung from the walls, or the plants and statuettes that seemed to be around every new corner. But eventually they stopped in front of two, thick wooden doors with a prancing horse carved in each of them.

'Count van Ryvel is through here.' Erwin told Teran. 'I have to leave now, as I have other matters to attend to.'

Erwin bade Teran farewell, and left the youth behind.

With a broad grin, Teran opened the doors and entered the great hall. He stood in the door opening for a few moments as he looked up at the high ceiling and admired the work a painter had done there, upon the ceiling the city of Triump was painted in bright colours. When he heard someone clear his throat, Teran thought that he may have stared at the painting a little to long, and focused his attention to a man at the end of the hall sitting on a luxurious chair which stood on a raised dais.

Teran quickly started walking, barely paying any attention to the banners that hung from the walls, depicting the Count's heraldry, and finally stopped in front of the raised dais, to get a good look at the man who had organized the tournament he had just won.

He was a big man, although it was difficult to get a feel for his height as he sat down, with a broad chest and heavily muscled arms. His hair had more gray in it than brown, and was slicked back and bound into a tail. And from his dark brow, his steel gray eyes were focused on Teran.

'So...' he started, his voice amused. 'You're the lad Baron Eton was so worried about.'

'Yes sir.'

'And did you know it was forbidden for those not of noble blood to participate?'

Teran hesitated, afraid that he might put Erwin in danger.

'No sir.'

'Don't lie, lad. I know this was Erwin's idea.' Count van Ryvel replied.

'I...don't know what you're talking about.'

'Look, I'm not mad.' the Count chuckled. 'Thanks to the two of you, this tournament was actually exciting. And both noble and commoner are spending coin and celebrating your victory. With a little luck, we can even abolish that silly law about commoners not being allowed into archery tournaments.'

'Oh...' was the only reply Teran could think of.

'Now, you may be wondering why I'm rewarding you for your victory here, without any pomp and ceremony?' Count van Ryvel asked.

'Actually,' Teran started, as he looked at the empty tables in the hall. 'It hadn't occurred to me before you mentioned it.'

But before the Count could state his reasons, someone burst into the great hall.

'My lord, you're making a mistake!' a man said as he walked towards the count and Teran, the rich black robe he wore billowing as he did.

'Sorry sir, I tried to stop him.' Teran heard a husky, lightly accented, feminine voice before he saw the woman from who the voice came.

Her long, gold hair was bound in a braid and the bangs framed her beautiful, tanned face. Teran caught her eyes for a moment, they were shaped like almonds and had the colour of molten gold, before she turned her attention to Count van Ryvel. 'Sir, I'm sorry but Aeron insisted on coming on.' she said coldly, but Teran barely heard her say it. His attention was instead focused on how her full lips formed those words.

As the man called Aeron and the blonde haired woman were arguing, Teran observed the both of them. Aeron appeared to be in his thirties and his skin was pale, which made his inky black hair and beard appear even darker. He was even thinner than Teran was, his dark eyes were sunken and his cheeks hollow.

'Deandra, Aeron be silent!' the count bellowed, then he turned his attention Teran who was wondering how Deandra's body would look underneath that steel plate armor. '...Teran. Teran!'

'Huh, yes what?' he replied, his cheeks turning red.

'The reason I held the tournament, was to find the finest archer in the land,' the Count explained. 'But I didn't do this just to entertain some nobles.'

This managed to catch Teran's attention.

'Then why did you do it, sir?'

'A beast has been terrorizing the land and towns surrounding my city, I've send a regiment of guards to deal with it. But most of them were wiped out, and the survivors swore it was a demon with scales as black as night.'

'Sir, I don't think it's wise to send him. If a group of trained guardsmen couldn't take down this monster, then I doubt a youth like him can.' Deandra protested.

'For once I have to agree with Miss Deandra,' Aeron replied dryly. 'One of the other participants could send an army instead of just one skinny boy with a bow that is about to fall apart.'

'I didn't mean it like that, Aeron.' Deandra said through gritted teeth.

'Could you two stop arguing for even a second!' the Count bellowed. 'Aeron, I value your advice but perhaps sending one man will improve our chances, he could observe the beast unnoticed and maybe find a weak point.'