The Ancient Hunting Bow of Ma’rvesta
A fantasy short story
This stand-alone fantasy short story is a response to Monday Mashup #31 by Jonathon Sawyer.
Pavlina had just ordered an ale when she saw a familiar figure across the taproom. Corbex lived close to her in Ashfield, a village just fifteen minutes from town. The sell-sword was one of the crow-like tengu people, and a seasoned warrior. Legend had it, he’d been a castle guard back in the Days of Kings.
He was also Pavlina’s best contact for adventuring jobs.
She walked over and sat. “Evening. Why so glum?”
Corbex’s beady eyes lit up at the sight of the thief, but then he shrugged. “Not a fan of being a year older. And gambling sucked today. Down to my last silver.”
“Ah, well… happy returns anyhow, old warrior.”
They clinked glasses. A few people glanced around.
“Fancy getting out of here?” said Corbex, brows raised, his cloak billowing as he rose. “Maybe Finn the wine merchant will have some leads. He’s always speaking to wealthy clients.”
“Right,” said Pavlina.
“And if not, we could, uh…” The warrior fell silent as they walked from the tavern.
The town was quiet in the cold evening, with most families safely home. Guards nodded warily at the adventurers as they passed the gates. It was a safe walk, a narrow dry path through well-kept fields, and the pair continued in companionable silence, Corbex stealing the occasional glance at the human thief. Somewhere far off, a wolf howled.
Corbex cleared his throat a couple of times, and was about to speak as they crested a rise among some gibbet-like ash trees. But just then, four figures sprang out from some barrels at the side of the road. One, a youth with a ginger topknot, rolled a further barrel into their path. “Roadblock!” he cried.
“Pay our toll. It’s your money or your life!” yelled another, moving alongside the leader, with dagger drawn. A third came from the other side to fully block the road. He was sniggering but also held a dagger. Two more armed youths loomed in behind.
Pavlina glanced at Corbex, frowning, then moved to stand back-to-back with her friend, raising her tanbō fighting sticks. The five youths they faced were clearly green, but were of the merchant class — wealthy and entitled brats. It would be a death sentence for she and Corbex to kill or even seriously injure any of these foes.
“You ain’t getting nothing from me,” called out Corbex calmly, one feathered hand resting gently on his sword pommel.
The tall leader of the youths stepped closer. His breath smelled of fine brandy. “You’ve got to comply! Or we’ll tell the District Minister you attacked us.”
“Then we’d better go ahead and kill you fools,” drawled Corbex, now drawing his sword. “If we are to be punished, then let us first commit the crime.”
“Grab them!” yelped one of the youths from behind.
But before any of them made a move, Corbex’s blade whistled just above the leader’s scalp, taking his topknot clean off, along with several layers of skin.
The boy staggered back, yelping in shock and pain. The pair behind fled, and soon the leader and the two who had flanked him had raced away, too, topknot still yelling and crying.
“Little shits,” cursed Pavlina wryly, beginning to walk towards their home village again. But she quickly realized that Corbex had swooped from the road, and was sprinting after the youths.
“Damn!” Pavlina ran after.
Rather than heading towards town, the youths were aiming for a hunting lodge among the fields. A warm glow came from its windows. They could soon find themselves doubly outnumbered, but Corbex was in a rage and didn’t seem to care.
“These damn brats need to be taught a lesson,” the warrior snarled, shaking his sword above his head as Pavlina caught up. “This would never have happened in the King’s era. And on my goddam hatching day! I’ve never had such a…” The swordsman fell silent.
“We should pause a moment, Corb,” said Pavlina, reaching for his arm. “Find out who’s in that lodge.”
Corbex slowed as they reached the picket fence around the building, with a single gate that the youths had fled through. Moving stealthily inside, Corbex began to circle the dwelling.
Pavlina followed to the back of the building. Corbex had calmed down somewhat, and now picked up a pail of water. He pointed with his other hand at a back door. “We can’t kill those little assholes,” he said. “But I do know a brilliant thief…”
Pavlina stepped forward and knelt. “So long as you stand guard and stay quiet.” She pulled her neckerchief up above her nose, then pulled out a set of lockpicking tools.
“Of course. But… be careful.”
Moments later, the lock clicked, and Pavlina entered. As Corbex waited by a stack of ripe-smelling boxes in the kitchen area, she pressed on into the gloom, reaching a fine walnut-panelled door ahead.
She gently pushed it ajar, and peeked in. Beyond was a grand lounge with many upholstered seats, a roaring fire, and hunting trophies. The five youths were standing sheepishly at the far side, sweating and panting, and being scolded by a burly and bald-headed servant. At the near side, at the fire, a slim woman in ermine was handing a wooden casket to a very elderly nobleman. Watching on, Pavlina slid inside, crouching down behind a leather chair.
“On this, the day of your birth,” said the noblewoman, “and also the anniversary of your ascendency as District Minister of the Riverlands, we present you with the ancient hunting bow of Ma’rvesta. This bow was used to shoot the legendary silver boar by the founder of Rivertown. May it serve you well.”
*Applause*
Not likely, Pavlina thought, raising an eyebrow. The District Minister was surely too decrepit to even draw the bow.
“There’s a bottle of Finn’s finest brandy in there, too,” the noblewoman added with smile to the assembled, leading to laughter and more applause.
“Look out — FIRE!”
The screeching yell had come from behind Pavlina, and she turned to see Corbex charging into the room. The tengu warrior threw the contents of the bucket towards the small ceremony; the noblewoman gasped as her finery was covered with stagnant yellow water; the fire hissed and belched smoke, and the elderly Minister dropped the fine case and staggered back with a look of confusion.
The case cracked open on the floor. The bow tumbled out, as did the brandy; the latter smashed, spewing liquid across the room, which then ignited.
Soon, fire was spreading up around the upholstery, and a dark sickly smoke was filling the room.
Pavlina had already begun circling, filling her pockets as the guests flailed about in the smoke.
Seconds later, the partners were fleeing the chaos. As they left, Corbex grabbed up the bow, and the pair raced out from the front of the lodge and through the gateway, pausing to roll the barrel in the path of any pursuers. But the merchant-class partygoers were too busy coughing and screaming.
“Not such a bad day in the end,” chuckled Corbex a few minutes later, slowing as they cut across the fields towards their village.
Pavlina looked behind, and nodded. “Yeah. Picked up plenty of coin to buy our own fancy brandy, too.”
He paused, and looked at Pavlina in the moonlight, smiling nervously. “Nightcap?”
“Well... sure. It is your hatching day.”
Okay! Thanks for reading, and thanks also to Jonathon Sawyer and the Kraken Krew for the fun. Now, as to my score…
Main Theme:
Your hero has just turned a year older! (2 points).Constraints:
A fire extinguisher (well... the bucket of water – 1 point).
Run a roadblock! (the rich youths do so – 1 point).
A present wrapped with a bow (the brandy was wrapped up together with a bow – 1 point).
Someone throws a temper tantrum! (Corbex loses it! 1 point).
This box (1 point).Hardcore Constraint:
Crash a party, but make it better/rob everyone (A bit of boht – 2 points).Literary Device:
Include a theme of unrequited love! (I think it's there, do you? 5 points).TOTAL: 14Next up, I nominate Aria Wraithe, Philip Charter ✍️,️ Rena Aliston and E.A. Colquitt. I hope you give it a try! Here’s the full challenge: