Chapter 17

It was nearing late morning when the rugged guards escorted the Rogue to the training square.  Emeric's veins were still pumping with the adrenaline that coursed through him after each battle.  It had been his first in two weeks and had only lasted two minutes at the longest, as most of Emeric's battles tended to do.

The large doors opened up into the courtyard that Emeric had both come to love and hate at the same time.  He preferred the training square above the small confines of his cell and relished in the fact that he could train and keep up his fitness, however, the hours of training were grueling and demanding.  It took a lot out of him. Training was sometimes even worse than battles in the Dome.

He also hated the distasteful looks that everyone shot at him.  Their foolish taunts always tended to strike a nerve no matter how much he blocked the hurtful words out.  He truly felt like an animal in a cage whom everyone could dig their judging eyes into.

They walked across the square, a nasty wind whipping their faces.  Emeric grimaced at the unfavorable weather.

When the guard stopped a few feet away form Marven and a group of trainees standing by the archery shooting range, Marven turned to Emeric with a disgusted expression plastered over his face. 

"Look who finally decided to show up." He stated as if Emeric hadn't been summoned to fight in the Domes.  Emeric nearly rolled his eyes, but luckily managed to keep the gesture in, knowing that he would only dig himself a deeper hole by doing so.

Emeric gave no reply to Marven's words, but when his eyes landed on the irritating smirk on Nedes's face, he felt anger surge up in him.  His greatest desire in life was to wipe Nedes's arrogant smile off of his revolting face...

The smirk made Emeric feel as if Nedes had something planned...something that Emeric might not find all too pleasurable.

Emeric silently went to stand in line, but Marven's words stopped his progress.  "I was just explaining all the intricacies of archery to everyone and we need a volunteer to try out the new skill first." Marven's tone had a hint of mockery in, his intentions were to embarrass the Rogue, but Emeric surged with excitement at the prospect of holding a bow again. 

Archery was by far his finest skill in combat and he was ready to prove the harsh trainer wrong.

Marven held out a simple recurve bow and quiver with arrows.  Emeric took hold of the bow.  It's grip sat easily in his hand and he was instantly taken back to his days practicing in the forest.  All his father's taunts and how they had turned Emeric into the brilliant archer he now was.

He easily swung the quiver of arrows onto his back, fastening the buckle that kept it from sliding off.

"What's the target?" Emeric asked.  There was a shield stationed on a stand fifteen paces away, but the target seemed way too easy...

Marven indicated the shield.  Emeric was somewhat disappointed at the lack of challenge, but once again he noted the strength of the ravenous wind. For a beginner archer, it would be nearly impossible to hit the target.  Luckily for Emeric, he was far from a beginner.

As he drew an arrow, eyes focussed on the target, an irritating voice reached his ears, "Hey Rat Boy, you know which end is the sharp one?" Nedes mocked.  Emeric ignored him and drew a projectile.

"I'll give you my slop if you manage to hit the shield, even the outer ring." Nedes's blustering voice continued, earning a few chuckles from his goonies. 

"Quiet." Marven ordered, but he was silently enjoying the mocking words that were meant for the Rogue. 

Emeric took a deep breath, calculating the strength of the wind and the angle that he would have to shoot at.  His arm moved in blinding speed as he drew, sighted and released multiple times. 

The other trainees barely registered the two arrows sticking out of the center of the shield, their attention had been draw by the loud, frightful yelp that escaped Nedes's throat.

Emeric had fired his last shot up into the air.  The wind had grabbed the arrow and then, assisted by earth's natural gravity, it drove the arrow deep into the ground, right through the tip of Nedes's boot, just barely missing the bully's toes...It was a perfect calculation of the speed of the wind and the strength at which the bow had to be fired with. 

Emeric gazed at the bully with an evident smile of amusement of his face.  Holding out the bow and quiver, "Well, doesn't look as if I'm much of a shot, you should probably give it a go."

Marven swore at Emeric.  He hadn't seen the other arrows which had hit home.  To him it appeared as if Emeric really couldn't shoot and had nearly hit one of the other trainees.  He roughly jerked the bow from Emeric's relaxed grip. 

Emeric turned to Nedes again, "You can keep your snot slop..." At these words, Marven turned back to the shield and, with wide eyed shock, he took in the two arrows sticking out of the center of the shield, only a mere centimeter between the two projectiles. 

The marksmanship was more than impressive, but what left Marven staring in open mouthed shock was the fact that Emeric had achieved that expert shot, considering the wind, not once, but three times, almost faster than I took other archers to shoot one arrow.

*****

Emeric's shoulder muscles cringed with each movement that he made.  After his brilliant succession of shots, Marven had tested him over variance targets set at different ranges.  In the end Emeric had been shooting for hours, which was quite a workout after not being able to get hold of a bow for a couple of months.

He rolled his shoulders in a failed attempt to release the tension in them.  When the stiffness slowly faded, he thought of what Calvert would do to him once he returned to his cell.  Oblivious to the crowds, Emeric had once again only knocked his opponent out cold. He had not killed him. 

He was positive that Calvert was already storming to the cafeteria to publicly punish him.  The thought sent an involuntarily shiver through Emeric's nerves. 

He silently took his bowl of snot slop and headed for his lonely corner.  His eyes were on the jiggling mass of grossness in the bowl as he passed the unsuspecting door that lead to the storeroom.  Silently, escaping Emeric's notice, the door swung open and hands sneaked out.  One arm snaked around Emeric's neck while another hand clasped his mouth shut, withholding any cry for help that might have escaped from his lips.

Not that anyone would have come to his aid, had they heard his turmoil.

He was dragged into the confining darkness of the storeroom and the door was shut behind his attackers.  Before he could free himself from the gripping hands, his own were tightly bound behind his back and a thick rope was forced in between his teeth, and tied off behind his head, serving as an efficient gag.

He struggled against his captures with all his might. Emeric managed to knock on away with a hard shove of his shoulder and he kicked another, who fell with a grunt of pain...However, Emeric's victory was short lived as he was painfully driven into the back wall of the storeroom and instantly, hands fell on him, pressing him back so that he was unable to further his struggle.

He grunted with effort as he tried one last time to escape the hawk like clutches, but he was outnumbered and the majority had overpowered him...There was nothing more he could do...

A heavy bag was drawn over his head and a cord was wrapped around him, holding the bag in place, and successfully pinning Emeric's arms. He was blind and breathing deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.

The only thought that passed through Emeric's mind as he stood splayed at the mercy of his attackers was that he was in deep, deep trouble...