Sir Hargest was finding that being a prisoner of war to be fairly pleasant, at least so far. His main complaint was that the food was a little on the spicy side.
And Hargest was from deep in the countryside of south-eastern Vathary, where they liked to spice up the food. Certainly a lot more spicy than in the capital of Carstones.
But even by Hargest’s standards, the food the orc cooks had served them had been spicy. The first day they’d been served porridge with fruit for breakfast, which had been fine, if somewhat peppery. For lunch they’d had a stew with bread, which looked much like dishes they’d get in Vathary. But the taste was very different – the meat had been long roasted, and almost melted in his mouth, but it had also been inundated with hot spices, so by the third bite Hargest had tears forming in his eyes and by the fifth bit he’d already drunk the pint of water they’d given him.
No torture other than that, though. His father had always told him that orcs were savages that tortured their victims, and then ate them. Then his father had said that as a third son with no inheritance Hargest needed to get off the estate and go make money in the military, so sent him off to fight those orcs. Never had he mentioned that orcs were snappy dressers.
For the first day they’d been kept in the barracks. He and Sir Bowen were given new clothing and had been allowed to check on their men from the Vatharian Royal Army who’d been taken prisoner with them. Everyone looked fine, except that their wizard Mostyn had been kept bound and gagged, only freed for short periods and then only with a spear at his back and stern warnings against even thinking about casting a spell.
On the second day they got word from their orc guards that they were going to be allowed to go to the festival for a couple of hours, but under “special” guard. The orcs didn’t explain any further. Then, in mid-morning, two people arrived to meet him and Bowen.
The first looked human, but Hargest knew exactly who he was, although they’d never met. Mal Adane, better known in Pelsa as Major Adane, the subcommander of the castle guard, had been born in Vathary to a noble family, with a large estate near Carstones. Adane had famously been revealed as a werewolf when, on the night of a full moon, a professional monster-hunter had almost caught Adane, in wolf form, attacking a sheep. Adane was wounded but managed to make it back to his house. The next morning, thirty villagers and the monster-hunter had bashed down the door and ransacked Adane's keep, searching for him. Adane had barely escaped and headed north. The monster-hunter had many coins tossed to him for his efforts and Vatharian bards still sung the song of the valiant hunt of the werewolf.
And here he was. Smiling at them. After having almost eaten them just two days before.
Next to the werewolf, stood a tall human-looking woman with dark skin and orange striped hair. Hargest was pretty sure though that she had been a large hyena who’d also been ready to eat him in the battle.
Adane stepped forward and offered Bowen his hand to shake. “His Royal Highness, our King Jend, has asked us to show you gentlemen around our fair city. And you are in great luck, as we are having a rather lively festival just now. It will be most diverting.”
“So if you boys would just follow us, we’ll get this tour started, and we’ll try to make it painless for all of us,” added the suspected werehyena. “My name is Helnae, formerly Queen Helnae, and I’m a personal guard to the princesses. If you obey my instructions, then nobody gets hurt.”
The tour group headed down the hillside by the stairs, while beside them a bunch of orc children were playing in the trees they had had growing on the hill. Hargest thought he should advise the orc king to cut down the trees to clear the site-lines for the castle’s archers and ballistas, and remove cover for any attackers, but then he remembered the orc king was the enemy.
In the main square of the town, there was some sort of riot happening on one side of the square, which Hargest figured was in protest for or against whatever the orc on stage was screaming. He then saw two dwarven warriors bashing into two heavily armored orcs, and then two other orcs retaliating by attempting to bash into the dwarves, so Hargest assumed factional violence was breaking out. Helnae and Adane didn’t seem bothered by the riot and its accompanying mass bashing, but they also didn’t offer an explanation. It must be that this sort of thing just happened around here.
Hargest thought that it was amazing this kingdom stayed together, and didn’t break out into a massive civil war, with all these different species. It was hard enough even in Vathary to keep a civil war breaking out, and that was just between groups of humans, as Vathary had long ago banned elves and dwarves. They did allow some goblins to work in the sewers, but that was different, since no humans were going to keep the sewers clean.
The group steered clear of the riot in the town square, and took Bowen and Hargest to have a snack of some tasty meat in a spicy sauce. Hargest wasn’t sure what kind of meat it was – Helnae just said, “Oh, you know, one of those meats we like. I don’t know how to say it in Vatharian.” Anyway, Hargest thought it tasted like chicken. Even spicier than the breakfast had been, though.
They wandered the booths of the festival for a while more. Hargest was somewhat tempted to go for a giant wolf ride, but Helnae informed him it was really just for the children, and if he tried he’d probably be eaten.
Helnae seemed to judge that sufficient festival wander had been done, and led the group out of the town gates, by where the river met the sea. Across the river, next to the beach there was a long cleared area, marked off with ropes. Targets were being set up.
“What is going on there?” Bowen asked.
“Archery. At all four great festivals of the year, they have an archery competition. It’s open to everyone. Many great archers come from across the kingdom. We can go watch.” Helnae motioned them to follow her toward the bridge, to head toward the archery range.
As they stepped on the bridge, Hargest said “Do they let humans compete?”
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Adane stopped and looked at Hargest, as if he were looking at a small, misbehaving child. “You want to compete? You’d be going up against some of the best elven and orcish archers we have. They’ve been training since they were first able to hold a bow!”
“And so have I. Long before I was a knight, I was hunting at my brothers’ side. My family had a title, but a title didn’t provide any food.”
“Indeed. How sad, you had to work… So, Lady Helnae, what do you think? Shall we sign up Sir Hargest for our modest game?”
“I don’t see why not,” reasoned Helnae. “It should be entertaining for everyone. Our wise king told us to entertain the humans and make sure they don’t get killed, and I don’t see how taking part in a competition with seven armed orc warriors could be dangerous, so, why not? I’m sure King Jend will be delighted.”
“So it is decided. We will sign up our guest here,” said Adane.
“Guests,” said Bowen.
“Guests? So, you will take part also, Sir Bowen?”
“I will. And I will demonstrate that we in Vathary also know how to string a bow.”
“Excellent. You are brave gentlemen. This will be the talk of the town, I’m sure. May you represent Vathary well in this more pleasant application of the martial arts.”
“We will demonstrate that the Vatharians are skilled in the arts of war. And that we bear no ill will to Pelsa. We came only to capture a criminal.” Bowen looked serious and noble as he said it.
“Yeah, it is like that,” added Hargest.
“Now then, If you would accompany me, we will find the clerk, and you humans shall be entered in the battle against the orcs, again. A more friendly battle this time. I hope it goes better for you. Certainly it can’t go worse.” Adane smiled, perhaps a bit too broadly, as he said it, and turned dramatically toward where the judges were setting up.
After twenty-two minutes of formalities in dealing with the organizers, a lot of which was spent trying to get the humans’ names and titles right on the paperwork, the group stood just outside the archery range as Adane explained what was about to happen.
“There are ninety-four competitors signed up for the first round. That means there will be twelve heats. Sir Bowen, you are in the third heat, and Sir Hargest, you are in the forth. Each heat will have six or seven other competitors. The top two go through to the next round.”
“How is it scored?”
“One point per hit. In this first round, you will have twenty arrows. There will be targets in the lane marked in front of you. The targets are wooden boards painted red and all start lying down, until a goblin mechanism causes them to pop up. The target will be up for five seconds, and you must hit it while it is up. There will then be a pause of four to seven seconds, and another target will pop up. There are targets at fifty, one hundred, two hundred, and two-hundred and fifty yards.”
Bowen unsuccessfully tried to hide his surprise. Fifty or one hundred yards was fine, but two hundred or more was hard to hit, especially without much time to aim. An archery competition in Vathary was who got closest to the center of a fixed target at seventy yards away, with twenty seconds to make each shot.
Hargest seemed fine with it.
Helnae joined them, a great bow in each of her hands. “I surely didn’t expect to be saying these words today, but, boys, I’ve brought you some toys!”
She handed each of them a large black bow. The weapons were heavy, made of dark woods with bone at the ends and on the handle. Bowen tested the weapon, and found it a heavier draw than any Vatharian bow that he was accustomed to.
“These are orcish great bows – one of the most powerful weapons that exist, but please don’t tell the other Vatharians. Most humans won’t be able to string them, much less fire them. But, if you are strong and skilled, then these are great weapons that will strike fear in your enemies, just before you shoot them through the eye!”
“That is quite a bow,” said Hargest. “If I win, could I keep it?”
“Well, we'd have to ask King Jend. I mean, you are a prisoner and all. We don't usually give prisoners our best weapons.”
“They should be ransoming us in the next couple of days.” Hargest said it more confidently than he really was. Would the new king really spend money to ransom the two officers who had led forty Vatharian soldiers into a trap? Not that Hargest had that much to go back to. He was landless and his career in the Royal Army wasn't off to the best start.
But maybe he could do something to redeem himself. “Is there a place I could practice with the bow? I'd like to get a feel of it.”
“Hmm.. Indeed. Let me ask the clerk. They may let competitors get in some practice shots before the contest begins.”
A few minutes later, a goblin led Hargest and Bowen out to the archery range for a practice round. There were already three young orcs on the range, ready to take their own practice shots.
The crowd had been milling about, chatting loudly about gods knew what, until Bowen and Hargest stepped out onto the range and notched their first arrow. Both eyes of every creature around the range were suddenly fixed on the two humans, and all conversation stopped. Hargest could hear the breeze blowing and the soft crash of the waves on the beach, but not a sound otherwise.
The first targets appeared, at a hundred yards, and both Bowen and Hargest missed, while the orcs hit theirs right in the center. The next target appeared at two hundred yards, and the humans missed again. There was a murmur of commentary from the crowd.
On the third shot, at fifty yards, Hargest hit the target solidly and Bowen got close. After that, the humans' results improved, and they finished the practice round with Hargest with a score of twelve and Bowen with ten.
Helnae came to collect her prisoners, as a scattering of applause was heard from the crowd, and the next batch took their places for a practice round. About a third of the crowd could be seen running off.
“Well boys, that wasn’t bad, but to advance to the second round, you will really need at least seventeen, maybe higher. You two sure you want to stay in the competition?”
“Hells yeah, I’m still in,” said Hargest.
They turned to Bowen.
“Yes, of course I’m still in. If the orcs can do it, I can too.”
In twenty minutes, the first real heat started. The competitors were six orcs, both male and female, a female elf, and a tall gangly creature that Hargest guessed might be some sort of troll.
A lot of creatures were arriving in the spectator stands and on the viewing area on the hill nearby. It was clear that the word had gotten around that humans, and bad invader humans at that, were taking on Pelsa’s own archers.
Adane looked around the stands. “This is the largest crowd I've seen come to watch our archery competition in at least a decade.” He paused, as if considering the possibilities. “We should most definitely invite Vatharians to attack every year, and then make the prisoners compete. The ticket sales could be remarkable. I do say.”
When Bowen’s heat started, he found himself pitted against six orcs and an animate tree. Bowen was so focused on the targets that he barely noticed that he was competing against the local vegetation. Bowen scored 14 out of 20, putting him fifth of the eight competitors in his heat. The tree and one of the orcs went through to the next round.
The crowd was generally respectful, although there were a few young orcs laughing loudly at each of his misses. There was a general applause and polite cheer directed his way when he exited the archery range.
Hargest hardly paid attention to Bowen's results, as in the stands he saw a group of beautiful women enter. There were four of them; two orcs, a goblin and an elf. All were stunning, and well-dressed. The crowd parted to make way. Their leader, the elf, was looking right at Hargest.
Sir Hargest stood tall and saluted her as he gripped his bow and headed out to his lane on the archery range.