“Downstream, behind a screen of branches, Aidan watches the deer and measures the distance as he reaches behind him for one of the arrows that he has stuck into the soft earth of the forest floor. The trees are still, hanging in the silence like a prayer, and the very stillness makes him pause. Carefully he takes aim and draws back the bowstring, feeling the tension through the muscles of his forearm. The yew-wood creaks slightly as it bends, and he holds his breath in preparation for the releas...e. But before he can loose the shaft, before the arrow can sing its death-note, the rustling noise of footsteps on the far-side of the stream sends the animal leaping off into the undergrowth, and it is lost from view. He stifles a curse and keeps the bow primed, watching the stream bank, waiting for the intruder to appear. It is a short wait. There is a movement in the bushes where they grow right up to the bank, and a young girl’s head appears. She looks both ways along the water’s edge, before pushing through completely and bending down to drink from the stream.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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