Chapter threeThe arrow did not miss. Well, by Krun, that is a supremely superfluous remark! Of course the arrow did not miss. The shaft had been loosed by Seg Segutorio, the finest bowman of two worlds. With perfect calmness and precision he selected another arrow, nocked it, drew and loosed all in that marvelous flowing rhythm that is the hallmark of the warriors of Erthyrdrin, the finest of all the many Bowmen of Loh.
Rollo the Runner, his red Lohvian hair afire under the twin suns, loosed and struck his mark. “That’s three more of the shints gone.” Although no longer the hot-tempered young fellow-me-lad he’d been, wearing now the sterner face of maturity, he was clearly as pleased with his shooting as any youngster at the butts might be.
“Aye.” Seg checked his next shot and stared cal
