Down Deep

Chapter Twenty Nine - Zdana

The excitement of the crowd was almost palpable. Everyone who was not competing was gathered around the park calling out to people they supported as they competed. The games had started with the races yesterday morning. Grant had done well finishing fifth out of forty runners. The group had raced around the outside of the city dodging obstacles placed by the council and a few of Xavier's watchers.

Roaric had taken the wrestling match that night and had been boasting and bragging since. Zdana was positive Grant would have placed higher if he had not run the race that morning. She had convinced him to drop a few of the games so that he would not be so tired.

This morning they had done the hammer throw and spear throws. It was no surprise when Haron took the hammer throw. The man or one of his kit had always won that one. Grant had managed to place high enough that it had the old Deeps man beaming at his grandson every time he looked to him.

'You be beat'n me next year.' Haron said with confidence. 'We be have'n more time to be train'n you right.'

Now, with the lights high up on the ceiling signaling noon, it was time for her first competition. The archery range had been set up with stationary and moving targets. Her grandpa and momma were positive she would do well. With only two months of practice, Zdana was not as confident.

There were fifty who signed up for the contest. The first round would be to determine if they should be competing or not. The first ten stationary targets were set at sixty feet away and they put up groups of ten archers to shoot at them. Of the first group of ten, five missed completely and only one hit the center of the target. She was in the next group of ten. Of her group, she and only one other hit their marks. When the whole group had been tested, only seven had made the cut.

The crowd was screaming their support as the next set of stationary targets was moved out to two hundred feet. Again, she hit the center of her target as did Jeriff, and a woman she knew as Pradan.

'Nice shot Zdana.' Pradan said nodding. 'To my shame, I didn't think you be get'n this far. You be a good shot when you be little, but it be a long time.' Zdana smiled to her.

'Thank my grandpa for that.' She admitted looking to see Olson and Zava smiling to her with pride from the front of the crowd. 'He dragged me down to the vault and range every day to make sure I got back into shape.' She nodded her approval and Zdana looked back to the course. They were moving in the moving targets now. Large bags were hanging from a pole. Someone had painted a red mark the size of her fist onto the bag.

'To be clear!' Stark called once he quieted the crowd. 'Jeriff's arrow be blue, Zdana's be red, and Padan's be white. The only way to be pass'n this round, is to be hit'n the mark.' Zdana nodded with the others showing they understood. He grabbed the bag and swung it hard so that it did not just swing back and forth, but twisted to hide and show the target. As soon a Stark was clear, Zdana fired followed by Padan, then Jerriff. Jerrif swore annoyed as his arrow sailed past the swinging bag.

'Well, was fun try'n at least.' The man chuckled shaking his head as Stark moved forward and stopped the bag. Both women had hit their marks and the bag was leaking something were Jeriff's arrow had grazed it.

'It looks like you did get a piece of it.' Padana encouraged.

'Aye, be have'n to be pratice'n more for next year.' He said before shaking both their hands and falling back. The large bag was replaced with a small bag no bigger than Zdana's fist. On it was a red dot no bigger than an eye. This was the part that had her stomach tight with nerves. She and Olson had set up a similar target to practice on. Stationary, she never missed, however as soon as it started swinging, she was only able to hit it half the time.