Page 78 of A Thief to Die For

Soren takes aim again.

The wagon is maybe twenty seconds from being within range, but I need to scare it away before it gets too close. I nock an arrow – where to aim so the driver sees it? You’re running out of time. I pick a spot and shoot, but the updraught takes the arrow way off course.

Soren’s attempt isn’t any better. He overcorrected for the wind.

The wagon continues forward, and I draw my second-to-last arrow. Aim. My back starts to burn as I hold back the full 180 pounds of force of my bow, waiting for the breeze to drop.

Soren shoots again.

Come on, come on, I whisper, begging the wind for a break. Things are about to get real unsafe for that driver in about five seconds. Four. I release my shot, and the arrow strikes the road, directly in the wagon’s path. A miracle.

It does absolutely nothing. The driver doesn’t even slow.

With a shake of my head, I nock my last arrow. But time’s up. He’s in range of getting shot now.

Soren aims and shoots.

I hold my breath, waiting for a body to fall. Human or horse. But he misses – badly. It strikes the road up ahead, finally alerting the driver. With a shout and snap of the reins, the wagon picks up speed.

‘Arrow!’ Soren yells. ‘Get me more arrows.’

I lower my bow. He’s out of arrows?

He shoves by people. ‘No, I need long bow arrows!’ Too soon, he finds what he needs, stealing it from a guard’s quiver.

Even if a guard would let me do that, I can’t risk leaving this spot. I return to watching the wagon and the hard right turn it’s making. The driver mostly gets there by the time Soren nocks an arrow. All that’s visible now is the back of the wagon as it races to get away.

Horse and driver are in the clear. I can make a proper shot.

Soren and I both take aim.

We shoot.

Soren’s arrow strikes the road once more.

Mine lands true, striking the rear of the wagon.

I breathe out hard, relief crashing over me.

I won.

The cheering from the crowd is minimal, no one willing to risk the Commander’s wrath.

Except Marian. She claps and shouts her support as our gazes lock.

I jump from the roof to the landing and run, not stopping until I’m standing before the Commander, victory pumping through my veins. Maybe I should be a better sportsman, but I can’t wipe the smile from my face.

‘You are the winner,’ he concedes mildly.

The emotions I see on Marian’s face match everything I’m feeling. Euphoria mixed with relief. Surprise. Triumph. ‘You agreed that I could marry your daughter immediately,’ I remind him.

‘Yes, I did,’ he says. Then his face cracks into a smile that sends a chill down my spine. ‘Let the wedding to my daughter, Agatha, begin immediately.’

‘Agatha? What do you mean, Agatha?’

The smugness on the Commander’s face has adrenaline dumping into my blood.

‘I meant exactly what I said,’ he says. ‘You will marry Agatha. I agreed you could marry my daughter. I didn’t say which one. Check the contract.’