The smug man's face went blank with shock.
Abrial lifted a corner of the blindfold. A smug laugh escaped her throat.
The crowd exploded into cheers, booming once again with disbelief and amazement, louder before than it had ever been. Its roar was utterly ear-splitting. Even many of the men competing were whooping now, clapping vigorously for her.
Abrial's ax had indeed sunk into the center of the last target — so deep, in fact, that the target had begun to split in two. There was a visible fissure in the wood. What divine strength, talent, and class this young woman had! She was…so cool!
Abrial stopped laughing abruptly while the cheering raged all around her.
"What am I doing here?" she mumbled, frowning down at her hands.
An overseer led her back to the side of the courtyard, assuring her that she was in the right place and to just wait a little longer for her prize.
In the end, none of the few men left even came close to Abrial's performance. And so, Dal was handed off to Abrial in front of the crowd. She took his reins, half-confused as to why he was being given to her, and half jumping with excitement at being so close to this beautiful, regal being.
Once the crowd had dispersed, directed by the overseers and announcers to the liquor-selling stands, Abrial led Dal down the back streets and alleyways of Futou aimlessly. She stumbled, more drunk by the minute. It seemed Futou's rice wine was one that became stronger with time — much more potent than the liquor she had used to steal from the kitchens at the house.
"Dal," she murmured. The horse blew a breath out of his lips in return. "You're so pretty. And so…mild! I thought you would misbehave because you looked fierce at first, but you're really super obedient. Ack, my head…"
A throbbing pain filled her temples, making her vision go red for a moment. Her hand went to her forehead.
"Dal, I feel very sleepy. And it hurts, my head, and my arms…I don't think I can go on today. Let's…rest here for some time, okay? Just…for a bit…"
She clumsily tied Dal to a wooden post in the shadowy alley they had slowed to a stop next to. As if sensing she was not in the right state of mind, he didn't resist, even staying perfectly still while she tied him there.
Then, slowly because everything seemed to be sore and her head felt like a knife had passed through it, Abrial lowered herself onto the pile of hay sitting by the post. She snuggled into it until it cradled her like a pillow and mattress.
"I feel…like I did something fun today…" she murmured. "But it's strange…I can't remember what…and at the same time, I feel…like there's something I'm supposed to be doing…"
Soon, she drifted into a deep sleep.
The afternoon light streaming into the alley glimmered gold.
If you didn't notice the dark black and scarlet of her robes, the sharp dagger sheathed in her belt, or the dirt and blood on her palms, in the sliver of light that reached her face, Abrial looked almost peaceful and angelic for once.
______
"Shh — she's going to wake up! Cut the reins, faster."
"We're trying! It seems like she's tied them in a lot of knots…How she tied it so tightly when she was so drunk, I have no idea —"
"Quiet down!"
Abrial's eyes fluttered open. There was somebody, or multiple people, moving around in the dark near her. She could feel the heat from their bodies as they scurried about.
She winced. The moon had come up already. It shone brightly into her eyes, making her shooting pain in her head worse. The sky above was slightly blurry, too, since she was still a bit drunk.
A male voice swore in the darkness.
"You dimwits," the voice hissed, "Look what you've done. She's waking up. Hurry!"
"We're — trying! The knot's too complicated!
"Yeah, it's all tangled up! Maybe we should just leave the horse…"
"Who is it?" Abrial mumbled, sitting up on the hay. "Who's there?"
The angry male voice swore again.
Suddenly, somebody crushed Abrial against the hay.