The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [182]
Jiron gives him a comforting pat on the back and then says, “Follow me.” Taking them along the front of the buildings across the street from the curtain wall, he brings them to a halt once they’ve reached the place where he crossed the street before. A street as wide as the one they are on runs along the wall as it turns and moves away from them.
He has them wait there until the guard atop the wall reaches the guard tower then turns back to go the other way. “Now!” he whispers as he bolts across with the others right behind.
Melding in with the shadows across the street from the wall, he takes them further down until he reaches a point where two of the guards walking upon the wall are visible at the same time.
Stopping, he indicates the guards on the wall. Then he shows them a statue of a warrior with an upraised sword that stands between them upon the edge of the wall. To Aleya he says, “That’s where I want you to put your arrow, between the upraised sword and the statue’s head. Can you do it?”
She gauges the distance and nods. “I believe so,” she replies.
“Can you do it with a rope tied to the arrow?” When she looks at him he raises his tunic to show her the rope secured about his waist.
“I…I don’t know,” she admits. “I’ve never shot an arrow with a rope tied to it before.” She then looks to his eyes and nods, “But I’ll give it a try.”
“Pick your best arrow,” he tells her as he begins uncoiling the rope from around his middle.
She removes the quiver of arrows from her back and begins going through them one by one. The third one she comes to is slightly thicker than the others and is very straight. Holding it up, she says, “This one.”
Jiron takes it and ties the end of the rope to it very, very tightly. When he’s sure it won’t come off in flight, he hands it back to her. “It’s going to drag some due to the tension of the rope,” he tells her.
“I understand,” she says. Holding the arrow, she feels how the rope alters its balance and increases its weight twofold.
“Ready?” Jiron asks.
Placing the arrow to string, she looks at him and nods, “Ready.”
“Take aim but don’t shoot right away,” he tells her. “When the two guards are both walking away from the statue at the same time, I’ll say ‘now’ and then let it go.”
“Okay,” she says. She looks up at the statue on the wall, raises her bow and pulls the string back. Holding it there, she gets her aim set and waits. Three seconds later, Jiron whispers ‘now’ and she lets go.
The arrow and rope sail through the air and cracks into the wall a good three feet below the feet of the statue. They freeze as they look to the guards to see if they heard the noise, but neither one of them even so much as glances back.
Jiron quickly pulls in the rope until it and the arrow are back with them. The head of the arrow is cracked from its impact with the stones of the wall. “We’ll try it again,” he says.
Aleya nods and begins searching through the quiver for another arrow. Feeling bad that she didn’t make it the first time, she vows to make it the second. Handing the next arrow to Jiron, she waits for him to secure the rope to it once more. Then once he’s handed it back to her, she again places it to string and takes aim at the statue.
“Now,” Jiron says and she again lets the arrow loose. And just as the first one, it impacts upon the wall in almost the same place as the first one had.
Jiron begins pulling in the rope when Miko places a hand on his shoulder. “Someone’s coming,” he hears him whisper in his ear. Dropping the rope, he looks where Miko is indicating and sees a guard turning the corner and begins walking down the street toward them. They move further back into the shadows and hold still.
Then his eyes go to the middle