"If my man wins, then tonight, you will show me around the castle," The prince said with a wry smile on his face. The one who was worst hit by this was Sir Branton. Who would have guessed his friend would be his competition. Damn that sucker-punching trickster. He had understood his buddy's intention to use him to make Lady Maara stick around, unfortunately, he had other plans.
"And if my man wins?" Lady Maara asked with an equally devious smile.
"Name your price."
"I want 50,000 more men from Reuze," The princess said. The princess' request was outlandish and extreme, but that was what she wanted. She wanted her request to be so absurd that there was no way the prince would agree to it. However, she had gravely underestimated a man's ego, especially one that was a prince.
"Done! Set the stage," the prince said without hesitation. In his mind, the bet was already won, no 2-bit adventurer was a match to Summer, his best archer. Therefore, no matter what she asked, he would agree simply because there was no way she'd win.
"There can only be one option if this is an archery competition," Sir Branton said with conviction.
In all of Tristan, there was one famed arena for bowmanship, and it was in this very training ground. The crushing arena.
Known for its variety of options that kept a bowman on their feet as they shot, Sir Branton suggested this. He had another motive. He didn't want the prince winning, but he too knew of the famed archer of Reuze, Summer, the prince's guard. He was not going to let them have an easy time.
"It is only 5 miles that way," Lady Maara indicated in the direction of the arena, "let's have the competition now."
Sir Branton didn't understand what she was saying. If they were five miles away, which they were, then they needed to get to the arena grounds to start the challenge. There were even walls and castles on the way. Not to mention, the arena itself was 3 miles long, on the longest track.
No one had ever asked what the princess was feeling in all this. She had her plan to discourage the prince, but that was not where she placed her hopes. Unlike anyone here, she knew first hand just how powerful Barda was with the bow, more than even Lady Ellen. She may not have seen his 9-mile shots, but watching him fight with the bow and arrows and then with the sword, Lady Maara was convinced no one here held a candle over Barda.
Her confidence in him was so supreme that she was willing to stake her reputation. Of course, if she won, she would get to deflate both these unwanted suitor's ego some more, while gaining some much-needed breathing room from them.
While everyone was wondering what the princess was saying, Barda understood her perfectly. He took out his bow and nocked a bronze arrow. Tugging it as far as he could, Barda let go of the arrow.
Seeing the action, everyone present was confused. Only the princess retained her straight face as she looked at Barda, before saying: "Will your man be shooting from here, or do we have to wait until we are closer?"
That was when realization dawned on them. Could it be that the bowman by the princess had made his shot to the arena? As these questions whacked their brains, the prince looked at Summer, who shook his head.
The message was clear. Shooting from here was a waste of time. Without any sense of where he was shooting from, making a shot into the air was a waste of time.
Soon the group crossed the castles and walkways as they made their way to the arena grounds.
From the distance, the Arena grounds looked like a giant temple that extended for miles. This was true since the arena was known for all kinds of skills, not just archery. It should be known that archery was the reason why it had been built so long, offering the shooters the required range of their shots.
Coming close, they noticed the archery arena was open air. Like a baseball pitch, there were areas for people to spectate and the shooting area. In the shooting range, there were varying types of targets, starting from the big stationary targets to the mobile smaller targets meant to test even the best of elites.
From 5 miles out, the princess hoped that he had managed to hit the arena at least, especially since she had been careful not to imply any meaningful target. To her, him hitting anywhere near the arena could be considered a win.
By now, there were quite a bit of warriors training and milling about in the area. Unfortunately, any shot made here could be considered a shot from any one of these people.
"Mr. Bowman, how about you lead us to where your arrow landed?" The prince. This was what he was hoping for, a chance to embarrass this show-off, not the princess, but the idiot that shot the arrow. In his eyes, if some shame did reach the princess, she'd have no one to blame but herself for associating with such idiots.
"Right this way, your majesties," Barda said after a brief look from the princess, who had subsequently nodded. In this powerplay, he decided to stick with his benefactor and earn her glory.
Barda felt conflicted with this. Unlike before, where he thought his deeds were normal, he understood that this feat he had just done was too amazing and it was bound to cause him some woe.
Unfortunately, the princess had placed him in a bad place. She had put so much faith in him to the extent of daring him to make a shot from so far away, he felt that there as no way he could betray that faith. Moreover, if she won the bet, 50,000 more men on the battlefield was not a bad gamble if you think about it.
All shooting was stopped as the VIPs walked to the shooting targets. The closest one was that which was 500 meters away. It was quite popular, as many elites were practicing techniques. It should be known that everyone present was an elite who could hit a target from a kilometer away, but sometimes when practicing, one needed to get a technique right before thinking about the range.
Next came the kilometer mark, all the way up to the 5-kilometer mark. There were fewer and fewer shooters along the way, which was not surprising. From 5 km out, even seeing a target was a hustle, much less hitting it. '
The way these boards were arranged was that the range was set side by side arranged according to length. Each range was half a kilometer wide, with varying lengths according to the range.
At the end of each range, there were targets set in place. Some were mobile while others were stationary. They also varied in size and speed, for the mobile ones. These targets were arranged from one end to another, according to their difficulty.
The group kept walking as they continued to pass each mark. Finally, at the 5-km range, they found a small stationary target had been nailed to the board by a bronze arrow, much like the one Barda had shot.
"It can't be!"
"What kind of bull is this?"
Both Sir Branton and the Reuzean Prince refused to believe that the shot had been made from so far out. With the evidence staring at them being so unconvincing. All this could have been staged.
None in the entourage believed that this had been the same arrow Barda had shot. Either the shot had been made prior by the shooter or someone had fired the arrow. This all reeked of deception, and trust a gambler to spot a lie in a bet.
The princess felt insulted by their allegations. She had to admit they had a point, so she decided to do one better over them. She took one small-sized target, the size of an orange or apple, and placed it on her head and said, "I trust my man, do you?"
Seeing the challenge before him, the prince took a moment's pause. He could not fathom how the princess could make such a bet, was she tired of living? Good-natured betting was one thing, but putting one's life in jeopardy was a whole different matter.
Looking at her, he started thinking that she wasn't that beautiful anyway. At the snap of his fingers, he could have any woman in Reuze, and he usually did. How then could he justify putting his life in danger for a pretty face? Too bad he had to go and make this to be more than just the bet. It was a question on honor.
He knew he had erred questioning her honor so blatantly, but that was a gambler's instinct. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed one of the targets and placed them on his head.