Archery: Behind the blind
Uilliam Sansalas, Written by Heather
Posted on Sat, Aug 7, 2010 19:53 pm
"Squeeze."
The effort caught Liam's breath in his chest, but he did it. He'd been able to make a weak fist for the last four days, but for the lesson being taught today he required more than minimal use from his right hand.
"Harder, Liam, or you'll be skipping this class, as well." Ananda Sedai's clear soprano left no room for argument as she stared at his hand enveloping her own. "Squeeze."
Beads of perspiration rose on his pale brow as his blue eyes narrowed. This time he couldn't keep a soft growl from rumbling in the back of his throat. His fingers tightened on the Yellow sister's cool hand, grip growing from weak to respectable by the way her digits whitened. A cramp threatened to spasm them loose, but he fought through it by sheer force of will.
"Very well," she said, the words as light as her touch as she brushed against the back of his hand. When he released his hold, she turned his hand so the palm faced the ceiling. The long, jagged tissue where a scar was attempting to form held in place, and while it throbbed, no blood or other unpleasant juices leaked from the healing wound. She flipped it over to examine the back, which had recuperated more quickly. Already the pink flesh folded atop itself in a ropey line that spoke of what its counterpart would look like given another week or two. Thank the Light Lisander threw one of his smaller knives, he thought as he studied the wound. Only one broken bone had come from the injury, though the muscles would take a good long while to regain their former strength. But from the way Ananda nodded to herself, they were strong enough for today.
"I still expect you here this afternoon," she chided as she re-bandaged him, which earned her a glower. That meant spending another hour stuck with that dreadful Novice, though it seemed he annoyed her at least as much as she did him. Liam suspected he was just better at not being as obvious about it as she was. "And any signs of new damage and I'll have you out of that class so fast your head will spin."
The Tairen gave her his usual tight-lipped smile and a small bow. "As you say, Aes Sedai. Now, if I may?" She nodded, and he spun on his heel on the tiled floor with such alacrity that the Accepted walking behind him jumped. That earned her an open sneer as he pushed his way past her. Light, were all the women in this place children? That one had looked barely old enough to be dancing in the courtship dances at Bel Tine. Was it their isolation here at the grand White Tower that made them so childlike?
Not that he actually cared one way or another. Liam did his best to move through the busy halls and out to the training grounds without jostling the others in the hallway. While such niceties tended to be beneath him, he would hate to be late for his first class because he got dressed down by an Aes Sedai for daring to touch the fringe of her shawl.
Outside the air remained cool with the morning dew, and he rolled the sleeves of his black linen shirt down to his wrist. In Tear, the temperature would already have mist rising off the swamps rather than have the grass rub its dampness across his dark riding boots. He shuddered to think of what it might be like here in the wintertime if this was any indication of early summertime.
With a bit of luck, he found the proper class area before the teacher arrived, giving him time to eye the others there. All stripes, it seemed, came to Tar Valon for training, including several women in the group. He found the idea of women fighting distasteful but had kept that opinion to himself, even when not in their presence. Too many ears attached to waggling lips on this island would get him killed sooner rather than later if he drew much attention to himself. And while a few glanced at the white bandage around his hand, most ignored him.
The teacher stepped into view, and Liam turned his attention to the man. He wore his blond hair tied back with a braided bit of leather, and his green eyes were piercing when he turned his attention to each of the trainees. When they turned to him, Liam found himself standing straighter, as if he wanted to impress this Talaban. The thought irritated him, which only made him stiffer. "Name's Liam, from Tear." Best not to announce his full name, especially with another Tairen here who might recognize it as belonging to a High house. "I've no previous experience." A small lie, but he felt it best to hedge his bets against the usefulness of his shooting hand. No need to make a fool of himself at the first opportunity.
In reply to Death from Above: Archery[show]/[hide]
Tal sighed. He ran an eye over the parchment neatly tacked to the front of his door. Three weeks. It had been three weeks since he had returned to the Tower and still, the Master of Arms was “too busy” to see him. Too busy indeed, though apparently not too busy to assign him to teach classes. He almost growled, frustration threatening, momentarily, to boil over. Classes and all were very well, not that he minded teaching. It was just the waiting that rankled. Limbo was never a comfortable state to be in. Talaban read the note again.
Talaban,
Take a class in archery for the trainees. The necessary information has been disseminated. Tomorrow at the south range, an hour after Breakfast.
Caelan Rohan
Archery. The arms man almost sighed again. Part of him wondered if this was deliberate. Tal generally steered clear of bows himself, being far more at ease with a bandolier of throwing blades. Granted, his skill with arrows and such had increased somewhat but Tal was nothing more than a middling hand with a bow. “Guess I know enough to teach a beginner’s lesson,” he muttered silently.
Eyes snapped open, jade green orbs peering up at the shadowy roof. Talaban sat up in the bed. Two hours before dawn. It had taken little for him to slip back into the familiar routine. Even his exile had not changed that. He dressed in the dark, more by instinct then by sight, the wan moonlight showing little more than slivers of faint shadow.
The garments felt cool to the flesh as he pulled them on, black silk sliding smoothly over skin. Pale blond strands were pulled back as his wispy hair was neatly contained within the plain leather hadori. His right hand reached out, grabbing the sword belt from its hook at the end of the bed, the easy weight of a blade on either hip strangely comforting. Feet slid into shoes of soft leather, feeling the cold of the hard stone floor become distant as the arms man slipped from his room.
There was little activity this early in the morning, the majority of the tower residents still fast asleep, safe for the kitchen staff, the guard patrols and perhaps the odd night owl like himself. Talaban ghosted down the corridors, stepping softly through the hallways of the Tower barracks and into the chilly night air of the open yards. Plenty of time for him to run through his morning exercises.
The great bell chimed within the Tower courtyard, signalling the commencement of the Breakfast hour. It sounded distant as Tal found his way into the south range. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin as the wiry man sank into the lotus position to meditate and wait. He had never particularly liked detaching lessons, although to use the word hate would have been an overstatement. Hopefully, the trainees would be on time.
Tal opened his eyes, just as the bell chimed again distantly. It was a fair sized group that had assembled at the entrance to the range. An even mix of males and females, tall, short, dark and fair, you named it, it was probably present there somewhere in the motley mix of trainees gathered for the lesson. It was one of the Tower’s oddities, turning a motley crew of individuals into some of the finest fighters in the land.
Coming to his feet in a single motion, the arms man motioned them forward and into the range proper. Stopping before the shed which held the lesson stores, Tal turned to address them.
“Good morning. My name is Talaban. I’ve been away from the Tower for a good while, so I expect none of you know anything about me at all. This is a basic archery lesson. For those who know nothing about bows, it’s a good place to start. For those who do know something, well, treat it as a share and tell session mixed with some practice. Feel free to assist any of the others if they seem to be having difficulty,” Tal paused momentarily to take another look at the class.
It really was a good mix of experience. A group of them were looking for the badges on his garments, trying, as it were to size him up with relation to themselves. Hopefully, they did not bother too much about the fact that there were no markings on him. Life would be much easier for everyone if they helped those who needed it rather than waste their time trying to figure out if they were actually ahead of him. Murmurs were starting up as the trainees started to talk among themselves.
“So before we begin, I’d like to know your names, where you’re from and any experience, if any, with the bow. Any sort of bow.”
A burly youth shouldered his way to the front, two badges sewn into either side of his upturned collar. “My name is Swane and I’m from Tear. Fairly good with a short horse bow.”
OOC: Okay, standard drill here. 300 word intro post please. Lesson will continue in about a week’s time and remain open till after part two is posted. Do feel free to email me if you have any queries. Away we go :)
