Should I trust my instincts? she wondered. That they won’t shoot until I’m clear through the gate? Could someone be waiting on the far side of the field on the other side of the fence? Or will they just assume I'll run right in, not expecting an ambush?
Jahrra chewed at her nails and felt herself growing restless. If I’m going to run for it, I had better have a plan of escape. She eyed the wooded hillside beyond the pasture. If she could somehow grab the flag, leap the fence and make it into the trees, then she stood a chance. Jahrra studied the far end of the fence line one more time. There. A weakness. The top rail had come loose from one of the posts and was resting on the ground. She could hurdle that, easy. And if she just simply applied some of the skills she’d learn from her elfin trainers, Yaraa and Viornen, this should be a walk in the park . . . if her enemies were exactly where she thought they were.
It’ll be risky, she told herself, taking a deep breath and getting ready to bolt, but the reward will be so worth it.
Jahrra stood up straight and took a deep, calming breath. She shoved the small crossbow into the quiver with the arrows and dye packs, tightened the straps, and shifted the bag so that it rested against her stomach and not her back. For what she planned to do, she needed her arms and back free. She took another deep breath, counted to three, and leapt into a full sprint. She quickly picked up speed, eating up the distance between the building she’d hidden behind and the wide open gate. Sixty yards, fifty, forty . . . She flashed through the gate, running at full speed and felt more than heard Eydeth and his comrades leap out of the bushes and run to close the gates.
Jahrra kept going, grinning to herself. She had been right.
The flag was waiting for her, only twenty yards ahead now, in the middle of the pasture. A golden tipped arrow struck the ground just to the right of her, its yellow dye splattering harmlessly on the grass as her boots sped past.
Ten more yards . . . Another arrow chased her, this one landing between her feet, the dye just speckling her pants. Not a true hit, she thought to herself as she pumped her arms, her breath coming faster.
The flag was only a few yards away, but Jahrra didn’t slow. She stopped moving her arms, but her legs kept up their speed. Just as she was about to pass the flag, she threw her arms forward, reaching out to grasp the wooden flag pole in one hand as she dived into a roll. Her fingers grasped the warm wood tightly as she tucked her shoulders and brought her head in to her chest. The back of her shoulders hit the ground with great force and the crossbow, in its bag with all the arrows, jostled about as she completed the roll, coming back up on her feet, her momentum barely changing. Without thinking, she tightened her grip on the flag, ripped free from its stone prison, and drove her legs even harder, aiming for the hole in the fence several yards ahead.
A few more arrows flew past her, one of them making a full strike in the low of her back. Cursing inwardly, she forced herself to speed up, this time zigzagging a little as she ran. You can do this, Jahrra! This is nothing compared to what Yaraa and Viornen make you do!
She reached the fence, hurdled it with little effort, and continued sprinting up the rocky hillside, seeking the relative safety of the trees. Sweat poured down her face and her ribs ached from her hard landing, but she had Eydeth’s flag and nothing was going to make her stop now. Just as she disappeared behind the first row of trees, she thought she heard the livid scream of her nemesis at the far end of the pasture. Jahrra allowed herself a small grin, but she didn’t stop. She sprinted until she could hardly breathe anymore; moving deeper into the small copse but making sure she stayed within a hundred feet of the city’s outskirts.
After several minutes she slowed down and quickly stripped the yellow banner from its pole and tucked it into her bag before picking up her pace once again. This time she would make an extra effort at returning to her own camp unheard and unseen. The last thing she needed was to get ambushed by another team and earn enough dye stains to make her effort at capturing Eydeth’s flag all for nothing.
Jahrra spent an hour of slow and careful weaving through Aldehren as she made her way back to Gieaun and Kihna. Despite her effort, she’d been shot by someone on the blue team as she moved from a forested hill onto the streets, and then had a near miss when she paused to adjust the bag that carried her ammunition. After the second shot she had slowed her progress down even more. Won’t do any good if I keep getting shot, she grumbled to herself as she crept up to the boundary of her camp.
Before coming within range of the redwood trees, Jahrra cupped her hands and imitated the call of a mourning dove. Four more calls greeted her and she eagerly jogged the final incline to find Scede and Rhudedth leaning against the trunks of the redwoods, both speckled with their own collection of dye marks, but grinning foolishly.
“Oh no!” Jahrra breathed. “You guys were shot too?”
“Yeah,” Rhudedth answered, “but we gave them back as much as they gave us, and look!”
She held up a green banner as her smile widened.
“Excellent!” Jahrra cried as she pulled Eydeth’s yellow banner out of her bag.
“We managed to steal three flags!?” Scede added as he dropped the red banner on top of the others.
“And managed to keep ours safe!” Kihna said as she climbed down her tree to join them.
Gieaun was right behind her. “You should have seen all the people we shot!”
They all exchanged stories of their adventures for a few minutes, then Rhudedth looked up and said, “Where’s Pahrdh?”
At that moment, another mourning dove call reached their ears and the five of them returned it, letting Pahrdh know it was safe to enter camp.
He looked rather glum when he climbed up to the top of their hill. He appeared to have more paint marks on him than everyone else and he didn’t carry a blue banner in his hands.
“I was ambushed,” he muttered irritably. “It was a trap. Ugh! I should have known!”
“It’s okay, Pahrdh,” Jahrra said grinning. “We managed to get all our flags, so I’d say we’ve done better than expected.”
“True,” Gieaun added, “but the game’s not over yet. Where are we going to put these other flags? We’re allowed to hide them, but they have to be in plain sight. That’s going to be hard to do, considering their colors.”
Jahrra frowned, studying the green, red and yellow flags. Gieaun was right. They had at least a few more hours left in the game and any one of the teams they had robbed could descend upon their camp at any moment to get back their flag and to take off with the others if they wanted to. It was one thing to guard one flag, but with four, every team would be after them.
“No it won’t,” Kihna said confidently, responding to what Gieaun had said about hiding them. “Look.”
She pointed over at one of the clotheslines that hung lower to the ground than the others. When they had first picked this spot as their camp, Jahrra had been slightly concerned that someone might trip over the line in the heat of battle, but had since dismissed it from her mind. Now, as she ran her eyes down the rope, taking note of the colorful sheets and towels that hung there, she grinned.
“Someday we’re going to have to pay for all our good luck!” she cried as she picked up the pile of stolen banners.