Jonneth's face brightened as he took the armguard. "You're amazing, Androl! I didn't think anyone had noticed. It's a silly thing, I know, but . . ." His smile broadened and he hurried to a nearby tree, beside which sat some of the men's equipment, including Jonneth's bow. These Two Rivers men liked to have them handy.
Jonneth returned, stringing the bow. He put on the armguard. "Fits like a dream!" he said, and Androl felt himself smiling. Small things. They could mean so much.
Jonneth took aim and launched an arrow, the shaft streaking into theair, bowstring snapping against the atmguard. The arrow soared far, striking a tree on a hill better than two hundred paces away.
Canler whistled. "Ain't ever seen anything like those bows of yours, Jonneth. Never in my life." They were fellow Andorans, though Canler had come from a town much closer to Caemlyn.
Jonneth looked at his shot critically, then drew again fletching to cheek and loosed. The shaft fell true and hit the very same tree. Androl would guess that the shafts were less than two handspans apart.
Canler whistled again.
"My father trained on one of those," Nalaam noted. "Learned the art from a Two Rivers man whom he rescued from drowning in Illian. Has the bowstring as a memento."
Canler raised an eyebrow, but he seemed taken with the tale at the same time. Androl just chuckled, shaking his head. "Mind if I have a go, Jonneth? I'm a pretty dead shot with a Tairen bow, and they're a little longer than most."
"Surely," the lanky man said, unstrapping the armguard and handing over the bow.
Androl donned the armguard and lifted the bow. It was of black yew, and there wasn't as much spring to the string as he was used to. Jonneth handed him an arrow and Androl mimicked the man's pull, drawing to his cheek.
"Light!" he said at the weight of the pull. "Those arms of yours are deceptively small, Jonneth. How do you manage to aim? I can barely keep it steady!"
Jonneth laughed as Androl's arms trembled, and he finally loosed, unable to keep the bow drawn for a breath longer The arrow hit the ground far off target. He handed the bow to Jonneth.
"That was fairly good, Androl," Jonneth said. "A lot of men can't even get the stting back. Give me ten years, and I could have you shooting like one born in the Two Rivers!"
"I'll stick to shortbows fot now," Androl said. "You'd never be able to shoot a monster like that from horseback."
"I wouldn't need to!" Jonneth said.
"What if you were being chased?"
"If there were fewer than five of them," Jonneth said, "I'd take them all down with this before they got to me. If there were more than five, then what am I doing shooting at them? I should be running like the Dark One himself was after me."
The other men chuckled, though Androl caught Emarin eyeing him.
Probably wondering how Androl knew to shoot a bow from horseback. He was a keen one, that nobleman. Androl would have to watch himself.
"And what is this?" a voice asked. "You do be trying to learn to shoot a bow, pageboy? Is this so you can actually defend yourself?"
Androl gritted his teeth, turning as Coteren sauntered up. He was a bulky man, his black, oily hair kept long and loose. It hung around a blunt face with pudgy cheeks. His eyes were focused, dangerous. He smiled. The smile of a cat that had found a rodent to play with.
Androl quietly undid the armguard, handing it to Jonneth. Coteren was full Asha'man, a personal friend of the M'Hael. He outranked everyone here by a long stride.
"The M'Hael will hear of this," Coteren said. "You do be ignoring your lessons. You have no need for arrows or bows not when you can kill with the Power!"
"We aren't ignoring anything," Nalaam said stubbornly.
"Quiet, lad," Androl said. "Mind your tongue."
Coteren laughed. "Listen to the pageboy, you lot. The M'Hael will hear of your impudence also." He focused on Androl. "Seize the Source."
Androl obliged reluctantly. The sweetness of saidin flowed into him, and he glanced nervously to the side. There was no sign of the shadows.
"So pathetic," Coteren said. "Destroy that stone over there."
It was far too large for him. But he'd dealt with bullies before, and Coteren was a bully of the most dangerous type one with power and authority. The best thing to do was to mind. Embarrassment was a small punishment. That was something few bullies seemed to understand.
Androl wove the requisite weave of Fire and Earth, striking at the large stone. The thin weave held almost all of the Power he could manage, but it only flaked a few chips off the large stone.