Page 35 of Arrows and Gems
Le Capuchon’s hands were strong but gentle as he hoisted her to Farrell’s back. They hovered an inch away while she used his firm shoulder to steady herself, as if he wanted to hold her in place but didn’t dare.
The phantom feeling of his hands and shoulder brought a scowl to her face. He’d made it very plain that he wanted nothing to do with her, so there was no point in admiring either his physical form or his brief moments of concern for her.
Besides, he wasn’t a prince like Michael. He wasn’t a noble like Tobias or Luther. He was an outlaw who didn’t trust her, and she didn’t like him any better.
Neither of them had said a word while she mounted, and neither had spoken in the hour since. Le Capuchon had pulled his hood back a little now that he was walking in front of her, and his head slowly swept back and forth as he scanned the trees.
If he turned a little farther, she’d be able to see his face.
“If I had some arrows, you wouldn’t need to keep such a careful watch,” she said casually. “I could help keep an eye out for trouble.”
Instead of turning as she’d hoped, he simply shook his head. “You can keep watch without arrows. If you see something, tell me.”
“But what if the danger is on multiple fronts?” she arguedinnocently. “You might need a second archer to keep us safe. Would you let your lack of trust ruin us?”
“I’m fast.” His steps slowed, but then he shook his head. “And trust isn’t the issue. Your shoulder needs at least another week to heal.”
“So if I wasn’t injured, you would trust me with arrows at your back?” Helena scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. What do you know about my shoulder, anyway?”
Pulling his hood forward, he twisted to look at her. “You say that as if you think I’ve never been hurt.”
She felt a pang of disappointment that he’d remembered to cover his face, but she plunged ahead anyway. “Have you? The legendary outlaw, always disabling those who pursue him while escaping with nary a scratch of his own?”
“I used to train with the royal guard. I have been injured many times.”
“But have you been shot?” she challenged. “Have you experienced the pain that you’ve dealt to so many others?”
He faced ahead again, one hand fiddling with something she couldn’t see. When he finally spoke, his voice was solemn. “I have not always been an outlaw, Margit.” His free hand lifted to rub his shoulder almost absently. “The day I became one was painful in many ways.”
His statement shouldn’t have surprised her. He must have had a life before terrorizing travelers in the woods. But somehow, she had imagined him snatching bread from the market and picking pockets, not training for the king’s guard.
And the way he said it... It sounded as if this life had been forced upon him.
“The day we met was not the first time I have been grateful for lousy archers,” he continued quietly. “It has saved my life on more than one occasion.”
Her back stiffened. “I have excellent aim,” she huffed inannoyance. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have risked that shot.”
He hummed noncommittally. “Perhaps in a week, I’ll let you prove that. But not before.”
“I don’t need you to look out for me,” she growled back. Leaning forward in the saddle, she added, “Set up some targets, Le Capuchon; let’s have a match. Even recovering, I’ll wager I can outshoot you.”
“If you think you can shoot today, it’s proof you need a caretaker,” he snorted. “But even if I could let you hurt yourself, I wouldn’t accept your wager.”
A low-hanging branch forced Helena to duck, but she smirked as she dipped her head. “Why not? Afraid you’ll lose to me?”
“I did lose the last wager I agreed to,” he replied mildly, “but that one didn’t involve bows. This time I would win, because no one beats me at archery.”
“Are you sure?” She sent an evil grin at his back. “You’ve never faced me before.”
“I’m the best archer in the kingdom,” he stated with confidence.
She let her grin grow. “But I’m not from this kingdom.”
His head tilted as if considering her point. “True. But I have yet to lose to a foreigner.”
“You’ve been able to challenge people from other kingdoms? Who are you?”
At her words, his shoulders straightened. “I am Le Capuchon, the outlaw who terrorizes my kingdom,” he said in a hard voice. “I am no one else until I accomplish my purpose.”
