“This,” Verne said flatly, “is a bow. This,” he held up an arrow, “is an arrow.”

“This is a waste of both our times.” Giordi remarked.

“Do you have a lute?”

“No.”

“Do you have a shield?”

“No.”

“Then take the bow.” Verne thrust it at Giordi who held it like it was made of glass. “It’s not a precious vase or stained glass window.”

“Right.” Giordi tried a more casual stance and promptly dropped it.

Verne closed his eyes. “Break it and I’ll use you as target practice.”

“Got it.”

Verne held his bow out. “The main body of the bow is called a limb.”

“Limb?”

Verne nodded then tapped the outer curve. “Back,” he said then tapped the concave curve on the other side, “belly and string.” Verne showed Giordi where his fingers sat on the grip and how the arrow shaft just before the sharpened head rested on the side of his finger. “Hold here, raise the bow up so that you can sight down the shaft of the arrow. The nock,” he tapped the end of the arrow where a groove had been carved into the shaft, “embraces the string which provides the propulsion.”

“Uh huh…” Giordi said none too confidently.

“Then these two fingers,” he tapped Giordi’s hand, “lock into place as you draw the arrow back until you are ready to release…which you never, ever, do until you have found your target.”

“And what is my target?”

Verne held up a leather circle with smaller circles marked on it. “We’ll start with just hitting this target before moving on to aiming for specific parts of a body.” He walked to a tree and tacked it onto its surface. “Don’t worry,” Verne whispered, “I doubt any of these arrows will hit.” He strode back to Giordi who had dropped his arm. “Up,” he said and Giordi lifted his arm, “sight down the shaft of the arrow, draw back and…release!”

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The arrow flew through the air before hitting the ground, only halfway to the target.

Giordi huffed as Verne retrieved the arrow and turned back. “What happened?”

“It’s…weird.”

“What is?”

“Pulling back on the bow so hard. I feel like it might snap. I’ve lost count of the amount of strings I’ve broken on my lute.”

“This isn’t a lute. It’s a bow and it’s designed to do this.” Verne reassured him bluntly and handed him the arrow. “Again.”

Giordi tried and Verne looked at him instead of the target. When his second arrow failed to reach the tree Verne shook his head.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re holding the bow away from yourself like…like it smells.” Verne took his bow and held it, the limb close to his body, the bow almost becoming part of him. “You have to get closer. You have to commit.”

Giordi sighed and lowered it. “It feels…ungainly…and awkward…”

Verne eyed him. “Do you think I look awkward when I use my bow?”

“No,” Giordi insisted, “it’s just the whole…I feel like I look foolish.”

Verne pressed his fingers to his face. “By Maul, Terra and all the stars…what does it matter what you look like?”

“When I look like this,” Giordi gestured to himself, “it matters!”

“You are so shallow!”

“And?”

Verne stopped and stared at him. “What?”

Giordi shrugged. “I’m shallow. I know it. It’s what I am.” Verne gaped, astonished by the admission. “I play music, sing songs and I’m handsome…that’s my life. I don’t hunt for food or fight monsters or go in tournaments. I do what I do because I’m no good at anything else.”

“That’s got to be the most pathetic excuse for laziness I have ever heard.” Verne snapped. “You promised Judd you would be an active part of this company so stop acting incompetent and you might just find you’ve got more to offer the world than a pretty face and a passable voice.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Giordi beamed and Verne couldn’t resist cracking him over the head with his bow that had been a gift from Sir Egrette. “Ow!”

“Only compared to some…now actually try to hit the target.” Giordi sighed and lifted the bow. “Level with your eyes,” he lifted it higher, “closer to your body…closer…I said closer…think of it as embracing a woman.”

“That I can do.” Giordi said and did so. “Well, hello there…I must say what a beautiful figure you have…and…release!”

They were both surprised when the arrow hit the target. It was on the outside of the circle of leather but it was a surprising jump in Giordi’s demonstrated ability up to that point.

“See, you can do it.”

“It’s probably about the length of time that I spend with a woman…socially I mean.” Giordi laughed and Verne rolled his eyes and thrust the arrow at him.

“Again!”

“For how long?”

“Until you can hit a moving object or it gets too dark to see.”

“Come on sunset!”