Page 82 of A Fearless Rebel

“Thank ye.” Keithen pulled Esme to his side. “It will help.”

His sister shrugged. “I cannot say I will ever care for her, but I do understand her.”

The targets were set up and spaced apart as the next competition was about to begin. Of all the archers, there were only ten left to compete. Those who were eliminated stood on the sidelines watching. Some were placing bets, others were grumbling good-naturedly about the fairness of their elimination.

There was a festive atmosphere. Several bonfires warmed people who surrounded them. At a tent set up alongside where the archers were to stand, Keithen’s parents and his aunt and uncle, who traveled there for the occasion, relaxed while they watched the competition. Ava, Catriona and Flora sat just behind them.

His father and uncle were having a grand time judging shots and choosing winners. They joked each time someone was eliminated, which brought laughter and ribbing between the competitors.

At the moment, his father pointed at one archer. “I hear yer wife complains about yer marksmanship as well.”

Everyone laughed, including the archer who called back, “Her target is quite small.” He smiled in the direction of his wife. “And I love it!”

The next contest was to be for speed. Only five archers were to compete, including Esme, Broden and Ewan. Each was given five arrows. Whoever emptied their quiver the fastest would win.

As the archers lined up, the crowd hushed until the only sounds were the crackling of the firewood and an occasional noise from the stables.

The aroma of roasting pig wafted through the air and Keithen hurried to stand next to Ava, who’d jumped to her feet to get a better view.

At the signal, the archers began to yank arrows with amazing speed, shooting one and then another into the target.

Keithen noted that Ewan only shot twice and lifted his arms in victory. Esme whirled around to face him, her eyes wide. “How did ye do that?”

Astonished murmurs filled the air. Everyone wanted to see Ewan demonstrate again what he’d just done.

Once again, five arrows were put into his quiver. Ewan made a show of setting up. Feet apart, he lifted the bow. Then as quick as lightning, he shot three arrows at the same time, and then two. The arrows formed almost a perfect circle on the target.

Everyone began to clap as he bowed, turning to face those gathered.

“That is amazing,” Keithen said to Ava.

She’d turned white, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

“Ava? What is the matter?” Keithen took her arms and turned her to him. “Ye look like ye have seen the dead.”

Pushing his hands away, she shook her head. “It’s nothing. I just recalled something. I’m going to inform Eileen who won. She wishes to make them a tart.” Turning from him, she walked toward the house.

“Did ye see that?” Esme approached Keithen. “Where is Ava going?”

“To the kitchen.”

“He will have to teach me to do it.” His sister grinned. “I got second place.”

Keithen smiled at his sister. “Ye won the first one. Give someone else a chance in the distance one.”

Shrugging, she went to speak to her parents.

Surrounded by archers, Ewan was enjoying the attention. Keithen went to congratulate him only to note that Broden stood aside with a pensive expression.

“Upset that ye have not won yet?” Keithen joked. “Perhaps ye can beat Esme in the distance contest.”

Broden motioned for him to walk away from the group nearby. “Do ye know how the first Laird Mackenzie died?”

“Aye, shot with multiple arrows before anyone could intercept…” Keithen stopped talking and turned in the direction where Ewan was celebrating. “Do ye think?”

“The guards said there had to be more than one archer to get away with so many shots before they could react.”

At the realization, he turned toward the house.