The Bow of Destiny by P H Solomon

Author:P H Solomon [Solomon, P H]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781310217753
Published: 2015-09-27T22:00:00+00:00

13

Athson's jaw worked in a fruitless effort for words. He swayed with the gait of the horse behind Hastra while his silence lengthened. Sweat beaded his brow, but he managed to keep his balance in spite of the Withling's revelation, his weariness, and his wounds.

Athson twisted his shirt button. How much did she know? Was she in contact with her sister? He cocked his head and leaned away from the Withling. She received messages by bird. That was why they always fluttered near her. "I don't know what - "

Hastra stirred. "That bowstring is meant for the Bow of Hart, Archer, made in Hart hundreds of years ago. A particular family, the noble house that rebelled against the Rokan kingdom, held the bow as an heirloom. Receiving that bowstring means you are a member of that family, Athson."

"I've never heard of this family. I've never even been to Rok or Hart." He'd admit nothing. For his father's sake.

"Zelma would not have given it to just anyone. She was entrusted with it many years ago."

Athson shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and then rubbed them. The horse trotted but made no clear progress since the station lights glimmered no closer. Athson scratched his ear and cleared his throat. "Um, neither my mother nor father ever spoke of this family, so how could I be related? And, uh, if, as you say, the bow is old, then it must be brittle and unusable and this string would be useless."

The Withling half-turned in her saddle. "The Bow of Hart and its string are blessed and will last for many years to come. You are familiar with blessed weapons. Your own sword stood you in good stead this very night, though it has gone unnoticed."

"But this sword is not hundreds of years old."

"Nevertheless, it will last for many years to come, as have the Bow of Hart and its string."

Athson tilted his head. "My sword is that special?" Was Hastra correct? He waved his hand and shook his head. "But who's this family from Hart?" He regretted the last question. He should have avoided the subject instead.

"Magdronu killed them over time. I know who fashioned the bow. His name was Thayer, as faithful as any I've met. For that he died. His family has not been noted for many years, but I suspect they watched for sign of the bow since that time. Corgren has watched and waited, too, and this is why he assails you, the heir of Thayer’s descendants."

"My family is of no special lineage. How can this be?" Athson rubbed his brow. How could he convince her otherwise?

"Who is your father?"

"Ath of Depenburgh, a hunter and guard of the town."

"That town has long been overlooked. But not by all, it would seem, or else you would have grown up there rather than being the lone survivor of a troll attack. I've been - " The Withling clamped her mouth shut.

Athson frowned. "You've what?"

"I can't say more."

"Yet you scold me for not revealing everything I might know?" Athson sighed.

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