Reincarnated As A Peasant - Book 1 Chapter 45: A Little Test Of Skill

Landar

He was tall, and strong. Clearly using a hunting bow had toned his body’s muscles to a fine layer of lean wirey strength. We stood across the field from one another, several obsticles including the cook fire, and several boulders and logs had been strewn about by Vin’s family as they prepared the field.

Onlookers from the other caravans shouted, bet on the outcome, and in several cases broke out snacks and passed them around.

I guess you have to get your entertainment somehow, I thought with a grin. Farmer glared at me from our wagon. He didn’t approve of this at all.

“It’s not like its blood sport.” I had argued with him, when I had been forced by Vin to get his permission to participate. “According to Vin they do this kind of thing all the time to entertain their guests. Its just a little test of skill.”

“But you’re going to try to hit him, and he’s going to try and shoot you. Yes?”

“Only a little.” He had glared daggers at me. “They’ll cut our bill in half.”

“Fine. Don’t get killed.” The man was ever a pragmatist.

The plates hung from my neck, shoulders, and hips. They were the clear targets the Hunter would be aiming for with his arrows. The metal and wickedly barbed hunting heads were removed of course, replaced with a sturdy and small powder bag. If he got a hit on even a single one of the plates, I would lose.

And probably be bruised all to hell in the process. Even blunted arrows from a full strength bow would hurt I was sure.

The Hunter on the other hand had two logs standing up next to him. If I got close enough to even knock one of the logs down, i’d be the winner. Of course getting close was going to be . . . difficult. The ‘cover’ that Vin and her people had put out on the field was sparse, and most didn’t so much as come up to my waist hight. The thing I had going for me was, he had to stay put. I could move around, and I was pretty quick before I had come to live with the Farmer and his family.

Now, I was even faster.

But if I go left, follow around that set of logs, and then . . .

Vin hit the triangle like a mad cat pawing at nip, and before I could react an arrow shaft whizzed by my head.

He wasn’t even aiming at the mark!

Angry, I charged forward heading for the nearest set of logs for cover. I’d save my Dash ability for later, when I got closer. I couldn’t use it too often before exhaustion set in.

I moved smoothly, and swiftly, avoiding rocks and holes in the ground dug by some kind of goffer. The uneven terrain was treacherous and all it would take was one snag on my boot to trip me at just the wrong moment to cost me the match.

Just as I crouched down behind the logs another arrow flew over my head, impacting just beyond me in a plume of red colored dust. I smiled and took off, heading for the next set of obstacles I had identified before the match. This one an overturned table with boulders stacked on either end to keep it stable.

I heard the tell tale sound of fletching’s cutting through air and the snap of a bow string before I was even half way there, and dove to the ground. One arrow passed just in front and above me, where I would have been had I kept on the same running path. The other impacted my shoulder and pounced off.

“YES!” someone shouted from the tree line, and Vin rang the bell.

Everything stopped, I stood and waited for inspection. Another member of the same group of hunters who had ‘directed’ us to the clearing came and took a look at where I had been hit. The arrow had impacted hard, and I winced when he prodded my shoulder. It didn’t really hurt, but I knew he expected it.

“That’s going to bruise, make sure to rub something in it. My ma can sell you something for the pain if you like,” he said almost absent mindedly as he looked where the dust had settled, and then on the wooden target on my arm. It was clean.

“Miss!” He shouted. “Get your eyes checked Don, you missed the target by a mile!” He nodded to me and left the field.

Despite his entrepreneurial nature, it seemed these people were at least honest. Or, perhaps, honest enough. That arrow hadn’t been aiming for the wooden target on my arm as best I could tell. No, he was wanting to bruise me. Why was the question?

To sell his cousins ointments? Or to punish me for some indescretion?

I guess we’ll find out.

I laid back down where I had been, and waited for the bell.

Ding ding ding ding ding!

I pushed myself up into a runners start and took off as quickly as I could. Another arrow impacted beside me and sent dirt flying into the air.

I dove again this time behind the table, and I was safe. But now, I was trapped. I could tell from this vantage point that the last few pieces of cover had been moved much further away from the table then I had originally thought. A trick of perspective made it seem from where I had started, that the table was the most efficient and safe route to get close to the opponent. However, it was clear to me now that the other rout, the one that involved some drift wood and several plank boarders was the better option. The cover closer together, and far sturdier.

I chuckled, they had tricked me. And I, like the gullible American kid I knew I was, had fallen for it. These people reminded me of the feisty and tricky Carnies back home on Earth. Growing up in and around West Virginia, you’d run into them at damn near every fair.

If you somehow won, or figured out their trick, they would honor your win. Usually. But the games, even those you thought couldn’t possibly be rigged, were always rigged. And only by blind luck, or some trick only the carnies knew could possibly overcome it.

Chuckling to myself, I shuffled to one side of the table. As I readied myself to use Dash to correct my error an arrow smashed into the ground and sent a plume of dirt directly into my face.

Okay, so he can tell I’m moving around. I looked into the crowd to see if I could spot anyone sending him signals, but if they had someone like that they were doing so under the radar.

I made for the other side. If I could dash to the next set of cover then i’d be in range to perhaps, with some luck, get in striking range. Two arrows sprang from that side just as I was ready to launch myself out of cover.

Alright, someone’s cheating. I was getting angry at this point. Making something difficult using tricks and ingenuity was one thing. Out and out cheating? That was something else.

I pulled my ax from out of its loop, and sent a trickle of mana through it. The runes along its handle and up the blade activated, and I felt a rush of energy wash over me. I moved mana into my limbs, both Life and pure mana from my pool, poured in spirals around my veins and tendons, electrifying my entire body and giving me what I knew to be super human energy.

“You’re cheating!” I yelled at the Hunter.

“No, I’m not, Stop being a sore loser. For a farmer’s kid, you’re kind of disappointing. The last one to try this got much closer.” His tone was mocking and dismissive, and the people in the crowed around us jeered at me, chearing his words and repeating them.

Sore loser, stupid, and other incredibly demeaning things. That is, if I cared one whit about what any of them thought. Their attitude, the cheating traveling hunter, the fear in Farmers eyes when they had first ambushed us, and the pent up rage I had been suppressing for half a decade came pouring into my mind.

With what I knew to be a predatory grin, I stood and hauled my ax back behind my head with two hands.

An arrow whizzed by my head, nicking my ear and drawing a small trickle of blood. With a roar of frustration I poured mana into my arms and legs, bracing myself for the throw, and then let the ax fly.

The air cracked like thunder and sparks of mana flew off the ax as it tore through the space between myself and the target. I felt my tether to the ax, something I had built over the course of years of working with it, hunting with it, cleaning and maintaining it, recharging its runes, and growing used to its weight and feel quiver as it slammed into the log and splintered it to kindling.

Then, with a flick of my will the ax roared back towards me. I caught it in a mana infused hand, but still the act stung my fingers and made part of my arm go numb.

The crowed went silent as the thunder died. The Hunter stood, coated in wood chips and splinters. His heavy coat and cloak protected him from the shrapnel, but not the shock. His eyes were wide, and his hands shook. After a moment he dropped his bow, and then fell to his knees.

Ding ding ding ding ding!

“We have a winner ladies and gentlemen!” The man from the Vins group who had been officiating and acting as a general hype man stepped forward. “What a show, what a trick! Well done, and very clever! Let’s all give a round of applause to our little friend here from the middle of nowhere!”

The crowed applauded tepidly at first, then it grew in ferver as whispers of “what a wonderful trick” and “right little piece of magic that was” or “He turned it around on those travelers. Did you see that?”

“Let’s please clear the field. Up next is an archery contest!”

***

“What was that?” Farmer asked his voice quiet as we both sat in the back of our wagon. He held my ax, and looked at it from different angles. “Some kind of magic? Never knew you could do magic.”

“Kind of. Its . . . its not what you think. I’m no mage. Just have a bit of mana is all. Its how I was able to carve these.” I pointed to the runes. “Not these ones specifically, i’m not good enough yet to do that. But others.”

“Like that knife you gifted Wilma.” I nodded. “And all the other little trinkets you hid in that shed of yours?” I nodded again. “You got a gift kid. Even if you’re not a proper mage, and never will be, you should do this. You’d have a real career. Go farther then anyone else from our little spot in the world thats for sure.”

“Maybe. Not sure what i’m going to do yet.”

“And boy, you’re strong. Stronger then even me i’m sure of it.” Not wanting to be prideful all I did was nod slightly. “Don’t be modest boy. I’d never have been able to throw an ax so hard it made people’s ears pop like they jumped down a cliff into water. You did. That’s impressive. You could join the army, or safer would be Vlane city watch if you want to settle there.”

I felt a pang of sadness at that suggestion, but I nodded again. The farmer was only trying to be helpful.

“I bet one of the priesthoods would take you too. But I’ve not known you to be the faithful type. Least wise around our house. Not that we’re all that much into worshipin either.”

I thought about it for a moment, and realized he was right. For all these people knew I was some random kid from the middle of nowhere who just happened to have some amazing natural talent.

“With who you be after boy, them bloody blue robes? It’d be wise to get in one of those groups. Give you some people who wont’ just have your back, but who got the muscle to help in a fight. I’d be by your side if you asked, but I can’t fight against nobles and magic. Hell, hunters with bows would be a bother.”

The beginnings of a real plan began to solidify out of the vague notion of revenge I had been harboring.

“You just gave me a plan, Farmer. Thank you.”

“Hope it helps. Just don’t get yourself killed.” With that we went to join the crowd and enjoy the rest of the festivities.