Page 54 of Pippa of Lauramore
I slip awayfrom my family’s platform, hoping Father is too busy to notice my temporary absence. I follow the stairs down to the arena. Galinor, Irving, Archer, the Triblue princes, and a few others are discussing the rounds. Their men are waiting on the edge of the arena with their horses, which are all saddled and ready for the next event. They bow their heads when they see me.
“You did well,” I say, addressing the entire group, but my eyes settle on Galinor.
He looks more confident than he did during the scavenger hunt, and I have no doubt he’ll do better in this event.
“We’re about to begin again, Pippa,” Archer says. “I need to ride through it once.”
I meet his eyes. In theory, he tests everything to make sure it’s correctly set up, but in truth—I think he likes to remind us why he’s master archer. His lips twist with good humor, and I’m sure he knows what I’m thinking. I give them all a farewell wave and find my seat next to Marigold.
Archer clears the arena then charges around the loop on his horse. He shoots through three sets of small hanging rings and into targets behind them. Of course, he not only collects the rings with his arrows, but he also hits the bull’s-eye each time. Satisfied with the setup, he walks his horse to the edge of the arena and hands her off to a stable boy.
He glances up at me, and I smirk at him and mouth, “Show off.”
He grins—a rare sight. Beside me, Marigold sighs.
I don’t have time to dwell on Marigold or Archer because the round begins. Irving is the first out, and his horse prances under him, just as arrogant as he. He rides fast, his body comfortable on his horse with no reins, and makes swift work of the rings. He ends his loop in front of the royal platform. He sweeps off his silly hat and gives us a grand bow. I cheer for him, as does Marigold, though she looks a little embarrassed at his cocky display.
Two more princes go, one missing two of the rings and the second only missing one, and then it’s Galinor’s turn. I shouldn’t be nervous; he seems confident. I am, though.
He rides into the arena. His stallion glistens in the bright sunlight, and as always, he’s an impressive sight.He sits tall and proud on the horse. He may be second born, but he looks like a king.
I hold my breath as he urges his horse around the arena. Galinor nocks his first arrow and lets it fly through the first ring. With amazing power and finesse, he quickly nocks a second arrow and sends it through the next ring.
I clasp my hands in my lap. He nocks the third arrow, urges his horse a little faster, and aims for the third ring. I close my eyes, unable to watch. The crowd screams, and I open my eyes.
The third arrow is firmly centered in the bull’s-eye with the last ring settled right before the feather fletching.
I jump to my feet, cheering and hollering with the villagers.
“Pippa, sit down!” Father says.
I plop back into my seat with a huge grin on my face. Galinor stops in front of our platform, his eyes shining brightly. He gives me a very royal nod and then rides out of the arena to make way for the next competitor.
Only seven make it past the second round, including Galinor and Irving. It’s late afternoon, and the sun is shining warm and orange in the western sky.
I watch, intrigued as Archer moves away all the targets but one. We still have no idea what the last event will be, but it’s worth an additional three points to the men who can accomplish it. There’s nothing complicated about the setup, the horses have been sent back to the stables, and the competitors look as perplexed as I feel.
Archer comes forward and tells Father we are ready.He doesn’t look at me, though I’m sure he can feel my curious gaze on him.
“Announce the event,” Father says.
Archer strides to the middle of the ring and addresses the men. “We are about to begin the final event of the archery tournament. We have measured and averaged your arrow placement from the last event to rank you. Right now, Prince Irving of Primewood is in first, with three points. Lord Mador of Dorman is in second place, with two points. Prince Galinor of Glendon is in third, with one point. The last event is worth three points. In the event of a tie, there will be a long-distance shoot to decide the winner.”
Even if he’s in third, I’m relieved Galinor has placed. If he wins this final event, he will finish with four, which will place him firmly in the lead for the tournament.
“This event is simple. I will shoot an arrow at the target, and you will shoot my arrow down before it hits the mark.”
The crowd is quiet. Alexander whistles low.
“Master Archer, what you ask is impossible,” Irving says, his face full of good cheer but unmistakable doubt.
Archer turns his gaze to him. “I assure you, Prince Irving, it is very possible.”
There are a few more grumbles from the competitors.
“Archer, would you demonstrate it for us?” my father calls.
It’s there on Archer’s face again, that little glimmer of a smile. “Galinor, would you send an arrow at the target?”
