Balion continuation chapter 1 (Feedback?)

It wasn’t until the sun had withdrawn its light, hiding behind tall trees, that Balion heard the sound of footsteps and hushed voices outside the cottage door.1

With each passing hour Balion had been getting more and more annoyed. His mother knew how much he was looking forward to the games. What was she thinking?2

And by now he was close to displaying open anger.3

The door pushed open with a squeal of protest, a stale warm wind ungraciously accepting admittance followed by his mother and Jecht (Balion’s uncle, his mothers brother).4

The sight was not the one he had been expecting.5

Jecht’s smiling face was etched in a grimace as he leant heavily on the slim form of his sister. Pale and gaunt, he still managed a smile when he saw Balion get to his feet.6

“You’ve grown,” 7

“What happened?” Asked Balion, his earlier frustration now gone. 8

“Well,” said Jecht, he took Balion’s shoulder and let himself be guided to a chair.9

“Arhh, now that’s better.” he said as he took the chair closest the door.10

“Give me a moment lad. Rosa, you got anything to drink around here?”11

With a shake of her head, Rosa left with a muttered “men”, and returned with a bottle of wine from the kitchen.12

Jecht took the offered glass, filled it, drank it, then filled it again.13

“Hmm, wines not too bad. Nothing compared to a nice cold ale,” his eyes got a faraway look. “But it helps.” his eyes came back into focus.14

Rosa scowled at him disapprovingly.15

Jecht smiled weakly, “Well, my darling sister. As you can no doubt see, I AM in a little pain.” He hoisted the glass towards her. “But another couple of these should do the trick.” He downed it to prove his point. Then laughed at the expression on his sisters face.16

Balion sat patiently while Jecht filled his glass once again. He watched as his uncle shuffled in his seat, grimacing with discomfort as he did so.17

Growing up Balion had always looked forward to his uncles visits. So full of life and experience, the swordsman from Rallion had always treated him like an adult. It was Jecht who had first taught Balion to use a bow, and how to move trough the forest with stealth when on the hunt for small game.18

Balion found it discomforting to see his uncle in such a situation. But had to admire the way he could still laugh when he was obviously in a great deal of pain.19

“So,” said Balion, looking questioningly at his uncle. “What happened?”20

Jecht sighed, “Well… I got into a little disagreement.”21

Balion raised his eyebrows.22

“Come now, lad,” said Jecht seriously. “I couldn’t give justice to the tale in my condition.” He pointed to his bandaged side. “You know how I like a good story.”23

Balion nodded his understanding. It was true, his uncle did love a good story. Many an hour had Balion sat on the hearth while listening to Jecht’s wild tales of Rallion. Where there was said to be buildings hundreds of feet high, and markets that covered more ground than all the inhabitants homes on the isle covered.24

It was quite obvious his uncle didn’t want to talk about that which had befallen him, so Balion kept quite. 25

“And anyway,” said Jecht, narrowing his eyes at Balion. “Since when have I reported to you, young lad?26

Balion felt heat warm his cheeks.27

He had grown used to questioning things over the last five months of his apprentiship. That was how Jerry taught him. He taught Balion to not only copy the work, but to read and understand too. And question. Jerry would want to know everything about any single piece of work copied. What the work was for? What did the work actually mean? And did he agree with what he had copied? If not, why?28

He was about to offer an apology when his uncle chuckled and waved it away.29

Once Jecht had satisfied himself with wine, he stretched languidly.30

“I think,” said Jecht with a yawn. “That I could do with some sleep.”31

Rosa nodded her head sagely, “Yes you do. And I think you have had enough wine for one day too.” She reached over and took the half empty wine bottle from the table.32

Balion had to suppress a laugh at the expression his uncle wore as he watched his sister walk away. “Women! Always think they know what’s best for you,” grumbled the swordsman.33

It was readily agreed that Jecht would use Balion’s room for the night, and Balion would use a pallet in the living room. 34

Once Jecht was settled in and had everything he needed, Balion made his way to the kitchen, were his mother was making ready the evening dinner.35

“Ok, I’m going now,” said Balion to his mothers Back. “There’s nothing else you need help with?”36

Rosa looked over her shoulder, “No everything is fine now Balion. Your uncle should be back to normal in no time.”37

Balion agreed.38

“I’m going into town for the festival,” Balion said. Making sure his mother understood.39

Rosa let out a vibrant little laugh, “I know, you didn’t think I had forgot?” She looked out the window. “You still have plenty of time to get there. Good luck my son. Don’t be too disappointed if you don’t win. The older men have had a lot more time and practice with the bow than you have.”40

Balion gave a small nod. He knew what she said was true, but he hadn’t spent all his spare time practising so he could lose in the first round. 41

After Balion had said goodbye and grabbed his bow from the corner, he went out the door and started to make his way to town.42

It was only a forty minute walk to town from his mothers cottage, so he was in no rush. But nevertheless Balion walked at a swift pace. He wanted to make sure he had enough time to find Jack, and get accustomed to the atmosphere before he had to compete. The last thing he wanted was to arrive and have to go straight into competition, he liked to have time to get his mind ready before hand.43

At the edge of town singing and roast meat drafted along currents of air to reach him. Balion had told himself during the walk that there was no point getting nervous, he could only do as well as he could, nothing else.44

But as he drew closer, and could see the crowds of people gathered along the edge of the field, he felt his stomach tighten. All those people would be watching him soon. What if he made a fool of himself? What if he missed every target? They would laugh and snicker, he would look stupid!45

Balion moved in and out, trying desperately to avoid the people who stood queuing at the tables laden with free food. Baron John had always provided the food for the games, and usually Balion would be among those standing in line. 46

His stomach twitched as he thought about the abundance of food. No, no food for him until later. He had more important things to worry about.47

It wasn’t long before he spotted Jack, sitting with a pasty in one hand and a cub of ale in the other.48

“Ready then?” asked Balion as he came up behind his friend.49

Jack looked round and smiled confidently, “Of course. You?”50

Balion sat beside his friend. Looking onto the grass field where he would soon be competing. 51

“I think so. I’m nervous, and I can feel in my stomach an ache that makes me feel sick. But other than that I should be alright. As long as I manage to shoot in the right direction, what can go wrong?”52

Jack laughed, “Have I ever told you, you worry too much? Just go out there and shoot the targets, that’s all you got to do.” He stuffed the last of the pasty in his mouth and washed it down with the ale from his cup.53

Balion grimaced, “How can you eat? We’re the first up. And you sit here stuffing your face like you was at home, with nothing more worrying on your mind than you have to get up for your apprentiship in the morning.”54

Jack shrugged, “what does it matter? We either do good, or we don’t. no point worrying about it is what I say.”55

The two young men looked out to where they were setting up the targets. The first round would be thirty meters. The second fifty. The third eighty. 56

“But I have to say I do hope I do ok,” said Jack wistfully. “Wouldn’t want to miss the first target.”57

So even Jack, the ever confident and charming rouge, was feeling a little nervous. For some reason that made Balion feel a little better. It wasn’t just him. If Jack was feeling a little nervous, he had reason to worry.58

The two friends sat talking while the crowd grew ever ready. Both Balion and Jack knew from their practice that thirty meters was an easy target to hit, so worked out they should have no trouble with hitting the first. The second would be more of a challenge. The clearing where they spend most of their time was just over fifty meters, and they had been practising at this distance too. Balion could hit a target from fifty meters maybe two in every three shots. 59

If he didn’t let nerves get the better of him he should stand a chance of reaching the final round.60

Balion felt himself calm. What had he been worrying about? He would definitely hit the first target, and to go out in the second round was no disgrace.61

By the time the two young men had worked out their strategy, they were both grinning confidently.62

“If we can get to the last round, who knows what could happen!” said Jack as he slapped Balion on the shoulder. “One of us might even win. Then what would the girls say? Uh?”63

Balion joined his friend in laughter. He knew how much Jack like the girls.64

Both boys where cut short when a stout guardsmen called from the field.65

“Bowmen to the fore. The games are to start!”66

The crowd roared its approval.67

Balion and Jack looked to each other and nodded tightly.68

From the crowd aliened along the edge of the field came the competitors. Old veterans who had served their king against the Alman in the war of kings, middle aged men at arms who had known nothing more strenuous than patrols and drills, young untried men who had practised eagerly for a chance to distinguish themselves. All came forward with bow in hand.69

It was still bright and clear across the field even at this hour of the day. It would stay bright and clear for at least two more hours guessed Balion as he moved forward. 70

The crowd at his back were shouting for their favourites. He heard a couple of names he recognized. 71

“So,” a voice said from behind. “Lets see how the little scholar can do at playing soldier.”72

Balion didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The contempt in the voice gave him his answer.73

“Worry about yourself, Travis,” said Balion, not even turning. 74

The big apprentice who was now at his side was the isle bully. His size, and Balion had to grudgingly admit, his brute strength, scared a lot of the smaller apprentices into doing as he wished. Travis and Balion had taken a dislike to each other from the moment they laid eyes on one another. Balion had nothing but loathing for the big apprentice smith. And was certain the feeling was reciprocated.75

“Oh,” said Jack, finally noticing the newcomer. “If it isn’t the big bumbling, all fumbling, anvil pumping and no dancing apprentice smith. What brings you here today? Come to collect arrows?” Jack smiled winningly.76

Balion burst out laughing. The tension that had been haunting his body evaporating in an explosive release. Only Jack could make Balion laugh like that. The way he said it, and stood looking at Travis all innocent only made Balion laugh harder.77

The big blonde bully stormed away red faced.78

“You really are evil, you know that?” said Balion to his friend.79

“Well,” said Jack seriously. “I seemed to have upset him. I wonder what I said wrong?” 80

When they reached the soldier who was directing the games they sobered up, he ordered all who were to compete to stand in a single line. There were about thirty competitors in total Balion guessed. He stood behind Jack and waited for the Games to begin.