The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [183]
“Jiron!” Miko whispers as he points to the arrow.
“I know,” he says. Never taking his eye off the approaching guard, he draws one of his knives.
Thirty feet from the arrow, the guard still fails to notice it. At twenty feet, one of the men atop the walls hails him and they wave to each other. At fifteen feet, he turns his attention back to street level as the guard atop the wall resumes walking his patrol. At ten feet the guard starts humming a tune as he continues along. At five feet, he’s still oblivious to the fact that an arrow tied to a rope lies across the street. Then his foot steps on it.
The guard stops and lifts his foot. Bending over, he looks to see what it was that he stepped on. Picking up the arrow, he looks at it for a second and then rope attached to it. He sees how the rope is tied to the end of the arrow and that it extends into the shadows on the other side of the street. Pulling on the rope, he looks more closely into the shadows. Then all of a sudden, one of the shadows breaks off and rushes him.
Before the man knows what hit him, Jiron attacks and silences him before he can sound the alarm. Then with Miko’s help, he drags the guard’s lifeless body back into the shadows before the guards on top of the wall notice what happened.
Once he’s sure the guards on the wall failed to see them, he pulls in the rope. By this time Aleya has another arrow already selected. He again secures the rope to it and hands it back to her. “We don’t have much time,” he tells her. “We must be ready when whatever distraction they are planning goes into effect.” When she takes the arrow, he puts his hands on her shoulders and gives her a quick kiss. “I know you can do this.”
Nodding, she puts the arrow to string and sights on the space between the statues head and the upraised sword. She takes a deep calming breath to center herself as her father always taught her. He could do this, she thinks to herself. He could do anything with a bow.
And so can you.
It’s almost as if she can feel him there behind her as he always did when teaching her the bow. A hand on her waist, another to help steady the bow. The words he use to say when passing on his wisdom. Steady on girl, take your time. Patience, always patience, never rush it.
“Now!” she hears Jiron say. But she doesn’t release the arrow. Only when it’s time, Aly. Then it almost feels as if a hand raises her bow ever so slightly higher. “Now!” urges Jiron.
“Do you sense that?” Brother Willim asks Miko.
“Yes, I do,” he replies. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Brother Willim says.
Now, Aly.
Releasing the bowstring, the arrow shoots forward. They hold their breath as they watch it arc through the air toward the statue. Then it sails perfectly between the head and sword.
“I did it father,” she says quietly to herself. And she can almost feel a pat on her back, the same as her father use to give her when she successfully learned what he was trying to teach.
“Yes!” says Jiron. When all the slack in the rope is gone, it yanks against the end he’s holding in his hand. Looking to the two guards, he sees they still have their backs turned. Rushing over to the wall, he begins pulling the slack back in until he feels the arrow catch in the crook of the statue between the neck and the upraised arm. Giving it a couple tugs, he ensures it’s not going to slip out.
Then he holds still as the guards turn and begin approaching the area where the statue is located. Praying for them not to notice the arrow and rope, he waits. The watch they are walking takes them to within several feet of the statue. But then they both reach the end of their watch, turn and begin to walk away from the statue again.
Leaving the rope where it is, he runs back over to where the others are hidden in the shadows. “Now,” he says once he’s rejoined them, “we wait for the diversion.” Another ten minutes go by before a commotion