Archer's Sin (7 page)

She checked to make sure the bottom of her bow was secure between her legs and bent the top half toward her to hook the bowstring. With the aid of her war magic, it was an easy task.

A clump of Legaciatti moved toward the judge’s platform. She watched, guessing that the emperor and empress must be at the center of the clump. When they ascended the stairs, she caught a brief glimpse of the imperial couple. The emperor was known to be a cripple; he’d lost the lower half of his left leg in an assassination attempt years ago. Despite that, Nalica saw no limp in his stride. She’d heard he wore a false leg, which he seemed to get around quite well on.

The imperials reached the platform and took their seats, flanked by Legaciatti. Now she could see Emperor Lucien clearly. The emperor was black-haired, with a serious, calculating expression. He was said to be highly intelligent, and looking at him, she believed it.

She turned her attention to Empress Vitala, who had always fascinated her, not because of her looks—she was beautiful, as Nalica expected any empress would be—but because of her history. While she looked as southern Kjallan as her husband with her black hair and fine features, she’d been born and raised in Riorca, an impoverished province in the north that had spent decades rebelling against the empire. As a girl in Riorca, Vitala had been trained as an assassin for their resistance movement. Now, after a palace coup and a bloody civil war, she was empress. She’d proven to be an outspoken advocate both for Riorca and against slavery everywhere in the empire. Last year, she and her husband freed all the slaves in the Kjallan palace.

Nalica knew Vitala didn’t care two tomtits about her, yet on some level she perceived the empress as her ally. Vitala, too, was a fighting woman.

The imperials were in position. A bugle sounded to begin the third and final round of the tournament. The crowd fell silent as an official explained the rules, for anyone who hadn’t heard that speech the first two times. Nalica tuned him out. She ran through some exercises to limber up her muscles, and counted butts from the end of the row to locate her target. They were shooting at two hundred and fifty yards today, a ridiculous distance for accuracy, but with her war magic she could handle it.

Today the tournament directors had stationed a signaler near the targets, behind a protective wall. He was to send up flares when the archers hit their targets, for the benefit of those audience members who couldn’t see at that distance.

She pulled an arrow from the stand and nocked it, trying not to look at Justien. He stood on her left in the lineup, and since she was left-eye dominant and he was right-eye dominant, it was unavoidable that they should face each other while shooting. Justien caught her gaze and gave her a curt nod. She nodded back and tried to put him out of her mind.

“Archers ready,” called the official.

She stared at her distant target until her eyes watered. Raising her arm a little over her head to engage the powerful muscles of her back and shoulders, she drew her bow. War mages had a tendency to get lazy about form, because they got results even when they used their bodies inefficiently, but she was careful not to let that happen to her. One could not shoot one’s best without good form.

“Loose.”

Her arrow flew in what looked like a perfect arc. She lost sight of it during its flight and turned her attention toward the target. The arrow reappeared and slammed into the butt, landing quite close to the wand. A signal flare went up behind her target, and the audience cheered. She pumped her fist in triumph, and saw Justien do the same. He’d landed a hit too, but her arrow had landed closer to the wand. She had a good feeling about tonight. She was shooting well.

More flares went up. Three other archers had hit their butts. The rest, including Caellus, all had sins.

“Loose.”

She sent her second arrow in another perfect arc toward the target and waited, dry-mouthed, to see if it would land. It did! Another flare. Her two arrows formed a neat horizontal row on the target. She glanced at Justien’s target and saw two arrows there as well. She frowned. They were tied for the lead position.

She glanced up at the judges’ stand and saw the emperor and empress leaning toward one another and talking. The empress was gesturing animatedly. Then the empress turned to the field of competition and looked straight at Nalica.

Their eyes met, and a shiver of fear and excitement ran down Nalica’s spine. Her whole body felt electrified. She’d drawn the attention of the empress.

She licked dry lips and reached for her next arrow.

“Loose.”

She let it fly and watched eagerly. Against competition this strong—Justien in particular—every shot mattered. She squinted at her target, praying for the arrow to arrive, and then there was an explosion of wood. Shards flew everywhere. She’d split the wand at two hundred and fifty yards.

Behind her target, a dozen flares went up at once.

The crowd roared. Joyous, she leapt into the air. Glancing up at the judges’ stand, she saw the judges marking their score sheets, and the emperor and empress politely applauding. She grinned at the empress. Maybe that was forbidden—she was eastern Kjallan; what did she know of imperial etiquette?—but in her happiness, she couldn’t help herself. The empress gave her a nod of acknowledgement.

Only then did she think to check her opponents’ targets. Caellus had a hit, as did several others. But Justien had a sin this round. His expression was dark and stormy, and as he reached into the stand for his next arrow, he didn’t meet her eyes.

Oh well. She wasn’t responsible for his performance, only her own. And his mistake was to her advantage. She was now clearly in the lead. If she could just land her three remaining arrows, she would win.

“Archers ready.”

She raised her bow. She didn’t mind the stress of competition; she always performed well under pressure. The excitement of shooting in front of the emperor and empress was lifting her to her highest level of performance. Despite the adrenaline coursing through her, or perhaps because of it, her arms were rock steady, her bow absolutely still as she aimed and loosed her fourth arrow.

Another hit—she smiled in satisfaction. Two more and she would have that city guard job. Justien had scored a hit, but he was scowling. She understood why. It wouldn’t be enough now for him to just hit the targets. Unless she missed one of her shots, he had to split the wand multiple times to beat her. And that wasn’t likely at two hundred and fifty yards. She took another arrow and raised her bow.

“Loose.”

She let her fifth arrow fly. Another hit, another flare. Nobody could beat her now, nobody! She was not going to miss with her final arrow. And even if Justien—who had another hit in this round—managed to split the wand with his final arrow, he still wouldn’t beat her. Not unless she missed entirely.

“Loose.”

She aimed carefully and sent her sixth and final arrow toward its target.

A hit! It was on the edge of the butt, but at this distance, that didn’t matter. Any hit counted. She glanced at Justien’s target. He had a hit too, but it wasn’t enough. She had six, including a wand split, compared to his five. She had won the tournament.

She thought she’d feel exuberant when this moment came, so full of energy and excitement that she could barely contain herself. Instead she was just relieved. It was said that the Vagabond smiled on those who risked everything they had in pursuit of a goal. Nalica had spent her last tetrals traveling to Riat, renting an overpriced room, and paying the entry fee for this tournament. She’d known she would have few options available to her if she lost. And the Vagabond had smiled: she’d won the city guard job, and her struggles were over.

Her whole body buzzed with nervous energy. Slinging her bow onto her shoulder, she paced, walking it off. She caught Justien eyeing her, looking none too pleased at having been beaten. She felt a little bad for him, but not much. He’d performed well, but she had outshot him fairly, and in this tournament there could be only one winner.

She only wished they could be together somehow, that she didn’t have to say goodbye to him tonight.

He slung his bow over his shoulder and came to her, extending his arm. “Congratulations.” His tone was a little grudging, but when she took his wrist, he clasped it warmly. “You’ll make a wonderful addition to the guard.”

“I’m sorry it cannot be both of us,” she said.

He was the only competitor to acknowledge her victory. Caellus stared daggers in her direction, while the others simply averted their eyes.

The crowd was roaring. She’d apparently managed to tune that out until now. She turned and grinned at their obvious appreciation.

Captain Felix rose from his chair in the judges’ stand and walked to the edge of the rail. He held out his arms, asking for silence, and the crowd quieted. “Citizens of Kjall, we have seen a fine exhibition over these three days of the Triferian. The Soldier himself should be pleased.” He paused for a smattering of applause. “As you know, we have a special prize for the winner of this year’s tournament: he—or she—will become a prefect in the Riat City Guard.” More applause. “And now, citizens, the moment has come. I announce this year’s winner, and the newest member of the guard. Please express your fondest appreciation for Justien Polini!”

Nalica blinked. Had she heard wrong? The crowd did not applaud, but lapsed into confused muttering.

Justien glanced at her, his eyebrows raised in bewilderment.

“Justien, if you’ll come up to the judges’ platform...” prompted Captain Felix.

As she began to comprehend what was happening, shock and horror stole over her. This wasn’t a mistake. She’d been deliberately passed over. She’d won the tournament, but Captain Felix and the others didn’t want her in the city guard. They wanted a man.

Justien glanced at her again as if desperate for help. Nalica just looked at him blankly. She had no idea what he should do.

In a halting voice, Justien spoke from the field, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “Sir, I think you may have made a mistake. Nalica Kelden outshot me.”

Captain Felix’s smile faded around the edges. “The winner is chosen at the judges’ discretion.”

Justien glanced back at her one more time, looking lost. She could see it in his eyes: he understood now. He knew that the judges had cheated her out of this win, and he was the lucky beneficiary of that cheating. He hadn’t asked for this to happen, but now he would get the job and she wouldn’t. She glared at him, hating him for that, even as she knew it wasn’t his fault.

Behind her, the crowd began to boo. They didn’t like this turn of events either. She felt hot all over, knowing that her humiliation was being witnessed by so many people. She’d entered the tournament in good faith, believing she had as good a chance as anyone to win the prize. But she’d never had a chance at all.

She glanced up at the emperor and empress. Even they were witnessing this.

The empress was half out of her seat, with outrage written all over her face. A wild hope rose in Nalica as she watched. Might the empress overrule the judges’ decision? Then the emperor rose and took his wife’s arm. He spoke to her soothingly. The empress answered him—it looked like they were arguing—but in the end she took her seat. She looked displeased, but it was clear she wasn’t going to interfere.

Nalica felt as if every eye in the crowd mocked her.

Justien turned to her and hissed, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Claim your prize,” she said dully. “It’s what you came for.”

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“It’s the judges’ discretion. They don’t want me.” He might as well go up there and claim the job. Nothing would induce Captain Felix to hire her. She could have split the wand with every arrow, and it would have made no difference.

Oh gods, she’d agreed to congratulate him if he won. She held out her arm. “Congratulations.”

He eyed her wrist without taking it. “I didn’t win.”

“Captain Felix says you did.”

Captain Felix called out, “Justien Polini, come up and claim your prize.”

After a last, frantic look in her direction, Justien walked to the judges’ platform and ascended the stairs.

Nalica couldn’t stand to watch any more of this farce. She unstrung her bow, leaned it on her shoulder, and walked away.

***

Justien’s mind whirled. He had no idea what to do. His feelings were a nauseating mishmash of excitement, confusion, and horror at this unexpected turn of events. Nalica had beaten him. Every competitor on the field knew it, as did every member of the audience. Gods above, even the emperor and the empress knew! He’d fully expected Nalica’s name to be called, but when Captain Felix had called his instead, his mind had been upended, and now his thoughts and feelings were a shambles.

Everyone’s eyes were on him, and the crowd was booing—which stung, frankly—and Captain Felix was calling him up onto the judges’ platform to accept a prize that everybody knew he hadn’t won. Could it be that he was wrong and the judges were right? In this tournament they weren’t scoring in the standard way; instead, they’d left the determination of the winner to “judges’ discretion.” Maybe the judges had seen something in him that they hadn’t seen in Nalica. They were choosing somebody to be a member of the city guard. Maybe they weren’t interested just in accuracy, but in other factors.

Gods above, who was he kidding? The judges might have picked him because of “other factors,” but he knew as well as anyone that the “other factors” were that Nalica was a woman and he was a man.

It shamed him to climb the steps, since it made him complicit in their crime. But what else was he to do? The audience’s reaction, as he ascended, was a mixture of scattered applause and boos. His back stiffened. He wasn’t a terrible shooter; not by any means. He’d shot second-best in the tournament, and his score had not been much lower than Nalica’s.

Still, they knew. He had not won.

He glanced shame-facedly at the emperor and empress less than ten feet away. Their faces were bland and unreadable. He supposed they didn’t think much of his “win” either. But they didn’t seem inclined to interfere.