Summer was beyond shocked. Never would he have expected the prince to do something so radical. Having been his guard and trainer for quite a while, he understood the man's personality. He knew just how much he valued his life.
More than anything, he had understood that the prince wasn't serious about the bet. He just wanted to show Sir Branton who's boss. No one appreciated being used, and so he made such a move to counter Sir Branton's move.
The prince was always a charmer and a flirt. His status and power wooed many an ambitious girl into his bed. Those he couldn't get by fronting his wealth and status, he used charm and manipulation to get the same results. He was a sexual predator with a god-complex with just the right power and position to do whatever and get away with it.
Many knew of his nefarious actions, and many women waited in a line to get their one night with the prince. Something to whisper and gossip about with their closest friends, and to forever hide from any current, prospective, potential or past husband or man for that matter.
Naturally, the prince wouldn't slack off after spotting such a pretty bird. Even Sir Branton couldn't help but curse himself for introducing such a beauty to the prince, the king seducer. His woman who had yet to realize she was his was now about to be snatched by a dangerous predator.
'Damn royalty!' Sir Branton thought as he understood the crux of his problem. Now he felt like one of those ants who are powerless to act against him. He hated the prince and princess for putting him in such a place. In most rooms, he was at the top of the status pyramid, but now he was knocked a few rungs down. Who would blame him for being pissed?
With the 2 royalties in place at the 5-km mark range, the 2 shooters started making their way up the range to be in a position to make the shot. Neither spoke, as both seemed lost in thought.
By now, news of what was happening in the arena was flowing far and wide. Those that had been in the arena had followed the group of royalties and their entourage, curious to see what would happen. When word got to them about the bet, they were immediately drawn to the seats.
Bets were sounding off one end to the other, as the once-quiet grounds became as lively as the lesser ranges.
The 5-km range was different from the others. The place of the audience was placed at the target level, not at the shooting level. However, seats were extending to the start, for anyone willing to confirm that the shots had been made from that far out.
Some of those in the group chose to stay behind, and one of those that did was Sir Branton. He had complicated emotions running all over his face. On the one hand, he sincerely did not want the prince to win. For obvious reasons, he wouldn't want that man getting to have some time alone with the love of his life.
On the other hand, he did not want to see the princess dead. How could she get to such extremes? He felt like he could grab hold of the princess and slap her back to her senses and recall this stupid bet, but how could he.
The rest of the group walked with the 2 shooters as if to encourage them and give them hope. Lady Ellen trailed Barda with worry written all over her face. She could not understand the princess's blind faith in Barda.
She too had been as shocked as the prince and Sir Branton on seeing where Barda's arrow was lodged. She could not understand how such a feat could be accomplished, and she too thought that there must be some sort of cheating involved.
This thought wasn't born off trust, but there was no way she could believe such a feat possible. It just beat human sense. How could an arrow be shot from so far out and hit a target the size of an apple? You can't see an apple from that distance, especially if you factor in the castles and walkways in between. The arrow would have had to fly through tight spaces and open windows at some point.
Now that the princess was stacking it all on an all or nothing competition, how could she not be shocked? Looking at Barda, she wondered what was going on through his mind. His carefree expression must have been an act, right? There was no way anyone would be this calm given what they were about to do.
Looking at Summer, she saw him do what a man in that position ought to be doing. Despite his best efforts to remain calm, he was fidgety as f**k. She smiled knowing that at least her man knew how to conceal his thoughts better.
Summer was also thinking the same thing. With every step that he made towards the target, the more the pressure on him built. How could he be expected to make such a shot? If he did, he ran the risk of shooting his prince's head. If he didn't, he would bring shame to his people.
Summer also had to consider his reputation. His name was renowned and feared when it came to bowmanship. Making a shot from that far out may have been an impossibility, but to him, with the right conditions, he stood a 30% chance of hitting the target.
Weighing the option, Summer knew that if he missed the shot, there would be consequences. The prince was not known to accept losses, despite his outward easy-going countenance. However, no matter how dire the consequences were, they were bound to be lighter than shooting the prince. There was no way he was going to risk his prince's life on a 30% chance.
"Who goes first?" Barda interrupted his line of thought.
"You go, the princess made the challenge," Summer replied.
"I already shot an arrow, while you haven't yet, so now's your turn bud," Barda said after a pause.
"Alright, since you've offered, don't blame me for being shameless." Summer muttered as he took out his bow and took aim. Lifting his bow high, he used every trick in the book, every arsenal he had to gauge and assess his shot.
Using mapping and prediction algorithms, Barda could track the arrow based on the strength exerted and the trajectory of the arrow. He calculated the strength of the bow using the available standard formulae and the curve of the bow. Calculus to Barda was as easy as one plus one.
Watching his opponent targeting, Barda was shocked at the skill on display. Barda calculated an off-chance of 73.456% probability of success with a margin of plus or minus 4.568%.
However, the figures started to change and lower as Summer raised his bow higher and higher until there was a 08.00134% of victory. Barda noticed this was done intentionally, Summer was moving away from the shot.
Barda eyed his opponent with respect. He had weighed his options and judged his shot to be too dangerous. With that in mind, he had intentionally lifted the bow away from his boss's head.
A loud sound rang out as the arrow made contact with the board. It had missed all targets, but it was just 2 feet above the prince. It was obvious this was Summer's shot.
Many people had been wondering how, if the royalties did not die and the targets were not hit, how would they determine the winner. Now seeing Summer's shot, they found out the answer. The board was like a bull's eye, showcasing which shot was closest to the target.
Seeing such a well-placed shot, Sir Branton sighed. He couldn't believe he had lost such a beauty to the predator standing next to her. Never did a thought cross his mind that Barda might be able to outdo Summer.
On seeing Summer's shot, Barda was conflicted. All he had to do was outdo the shot and aim a little lower, and he would have won. It was as though Summer was offering a way off the hook.
Barda knew he could make the shot, but it did not escape his mind that his target was placed on top of one of the most valuable heads on this side of the continent. He couldn't take it for granted.
Moreover, he was not using a guided missile but an arrow. All told, he would be relying on the forces of nature and wind to guide the arrow. He could do everything right and still get something wrong, there just was no way of accounting for everything.
On second thought, Barda realized that the taunt and the challenge had come from the princess. Anything less than what she said he'd do would be a loss, despite him outperforming his opponent.
Thinking up to this point, he raised his bow and fired the arrow. Once was never enough, so he took out another arrow and fired. He then grinned to the competition and bid him walk down the aisle within him.