Free Silvermay by James Moloney Page A

hundred paces away. My heart jumped. Had they caught us already?
    â€˜A deer,’ Tamlyn whispered.
    My heart sank back from the base of my throat and my eyes focused more keenly on the movement. I spotted the deer, half hidden among the narrow birch trunks. ‘It’s upwind. Hasn’t seen us yet.’
    Every morsel of food was precious. The longer we could preserve what we’d brought with us from Haywode, the further we could go without looking for fresh supplies. Moving cautiously, I unhooked the bowfrom the horse’s flank, took a single arrow from the quiver and crept towards the little deer.
    Tamlyn followed, which doubled the chance that we’d be detected. Deer have the sharpest ears in the forest. How many times had my father told me that? I turned and shook my head, hoping Tamlyn would take the hint, but he came on after me undeterred.
    The deer was grazing among the trees, pausing briefly to chew at a lush tussock of grass, but moving on before I could find a clear line for the arrow. Three times I had the bowstring drawn back to my cheek, only to see the target shift before I could send the deadly arrow on its way.
    My frustration escaped in a sigh that made the deer’s ears twitch. I’d brought only one arrow because I would get only one chance. If I missed or a poor shot saw the arrow glance off its hide, the skittish thing would be off into the woods like a bolt of lightning.
    I was waiting patiently for another chance when the bow was plucked from my hands. What was Tamlyn doing? I didn’t dare say a word out loud in case I alerted the prey. To my dismay, he fitted the arrow into place and sighted as I had done. There was no gap through the trees from where he was standing, but, before I could stop him, he released the arrow. It managed to miss the bark and overhanging leaves and for that I was grateful,but he hadn’t aimed high enough and I could only watch as the arrow fell short and disappeared.
    The twang of bowstring was enough to frighten the deer. It was gone before I could blink.
    â€˜What did you do that for?’ I said. ‘A bit more patience and I had him.’
    Tamlyn offered no apology. Without so much as a word he went off to retrieve the wasted arrow.
    â€˜Not much use now!’ I shouted after him. ‘That arrow should be stuck in the side of tonight’s dinner.’
    The woods echoed with my anger. It was a sensation I liked and I found myself following behind him, more fury spilling from my reckless mouth.
    He had found the arrow and bent low to pick it up off the ground. When I came up behind him, he turned and I gasped. Skewered on the shaft of the arrow was a startled-looking rabbit, its eyes still open as they’d been when the arrow passed through its tiny heart.
    â€˜You weren’t aiming at the deer at all,’ I said, trying to make sense of what I’d seen.
    â€˜No, it was more than we needed,’ he agreed as though he had planned the appearance of both the deer and the rabbit just to make his point. ‘We’d end up leaving most of the carcass rotting here in the woods as a signpost. The rabbit will suit us better and we can bury the bones.’
    â€˜But to kill a rabbit at that distance. And you struck its heart,’ I said.
    The scene repeated itself in my mind. I saw again the easy way he held the bow, the practised drawback of the string.
    â€˜You’ve been trained by skilled archers.’ My words sounded like an accusation. They were in a way. Back in Haywode, he’d let me boast of my skill. Oh, and hadn’t I gone on about how good I was. The words came gushing out of me now, mortified and foolish. ‘You let me boast about how good I was, and all the time you … you knew you could do better and you didn’t say a thing!’
    He stayed silent yet couldn’t keep the hint of a smirk from creasing his face.
    â€˜I hate you,’ I snapped, and, on impulse, lunged