"If Lord Stark can grant you such an honor, how good are you with a sword and bow? If you hadn't come alone, I'd certainly say you were just a baby fresh from your mother's breast, but I can see you've got courage."
"I have some talent, and I'm stronger than I look."
"Then let's put that talent to the test."
Woer was a big man, and the strongest man I had ever seen. His strength was 11; he could basically crush me like a melon.
"Chieftain Woer, I'm no match for you."
"Hahaha! Of course you aren't. If a ten-year-old boy could match my strength, I'd be too ashamed to show my face. I just want to know how good you are."
"All right. If that's what Chieftain Woer wants, I can only accept."
He took a great gulp of wine and said,
"That's more like it. Let's go somewhere with more room."
Everyone inside began to cheer.
"Yeah!"
We left the building and came to a small, snow-covered clearing surrounded by trees. The others brought wooden weapons for mock combat.
"What would you like to use first, a sword or a bow?"
I took a shortbow and a bag of cloth-tipped arrows.
"All right, how much distance do you want? Thirty paces, forty?"
This time I laughed, but it was out of irritation.
"Haha, you're underestimating me a little too much, Chieftain Woer. I could even defeat Arthur Dayne within forty paces."
Everyone doubled over with laughter.
"You're a funny boy. I like you. But you also need to learn some humility."
A man in the crowd shouted.
"Chief, is that really you saying that?" Everyone around us burst out laughing again.
"Then it's settled. The first clash is a warm-up, and then we'll get serious."
I cast my usual buffs in a low voice, and then we stood facing each other, about forty paces apart. Chieftain Woer held a two-handed wooden spear in one hand and a large round shield in the other. My physical strength was no match for his, but Chieftain Woer was slower. His speed was only 7.5, while my stats were 8 strength and 8.2 speed with buffs.
I drew four arrows from my quiver, holding one between each finger, took a deep breath, and readied myself.
(Chieftain Woer's point of view)
In an instant, the boy's gaze turned cold. This boy had killed before; I was certain of it. I began to mock myself. Perhaps the boy was right, and I had underestimated him. He drew four arrows from his quiver. I had never seen an archer hold arrows like that. The moment one of the men gave the signal to begin, the boy had already nocked an arrow and taken aim.
I could hear the arrows whistling, one after another, and then, one after another, they began to strike my shield. I felt as though I were under fire from four archers. This boy... his archery really was impressive, but as long as I stayed behind my shield, I would be fine.
I was closing the distance rapidly; if I were in his position, I would try to hold my opponent back with the next volley by shooting at his feet. I lowered my shield slightly to watch where he was aiming out of the corner of my eye. The instant I lowered it, an arrow bounced off the top of the shield and skimmed over my head. To be honest, at that moment, I felt cold sweat running down my neck.
He kept changing his target; one arrow flew at my head, and the next at my feet. I could no longer keep up with him, and there were about fifteen to twenty paces between us. I tried zigzagging to make myself unpredictable, but his arrows seemed to follow me. He had fired nearly fifteen arrows, and none had hit anywhere except my shield, but if I hadn't been fast enough, those arrows might have struck my face and feet several times already.
Just as I changed direction, one of his arrows struck my ankle. I stumbled, and at that moment, another arrow struck me squarely in the forehead. The boy said,
"Thank you for the warm-up, Chieftain Woer. Shall we fight for real this time?"
No one was laughing now, because they had seen that I couldn't get anywhere near him. Worst of all, he hadn't moved a single step.
If he had moved from his spot, run in different directions, and tried to find different angles, his first four arrows could easily have hit me. Once again, I felt cold sweat break out on my neck. In my eyes, the boy suddenly became a giant. Something inside me told me to stop playing around and fight this boy seriously.
"Yes, I think that was enough of a warm-up."
I stood up and began walking slowly toward him; after I had walked about fifteen paces, I stopped and said,
"I think this distance is enough."
The boy smiled faintly, then bowed his head to me respectfully. With every exchange, I liked this boy more. The first time, I had looked down on him, and he had acted condescendingly, but this time, because I respected him, he had begun to respect me as well. This boy was just the sort of person I liked. He treated you the same way you treated him.
I returned his salute, placing my weapon hand over my heart. This time, the instant the signal came, I began running toward him as fast as I could.
He fired several arrows at my feet. I jumped aside to dodge them, and he began running toward the woods. It looked like the damned brat was faster than me, and I couldn't catch him.
He leaped up into the top of a tree and began climbing like a squirrel. The snow on the tree began to shake and fall. Everything turned white, and I couldn't see him anymore. This made me very angry. Until then, it had been such an interesting fight, and I had been thoroughly enjoying myself. Now he had run away. Had I misjudged that boy?
"Come out, boy! Why are you hiding up a tree like a squirrel? Get down here right now and fight like a man!"
I circled the tree, watching the branches at the top. Just then, I caught a figure out of the corner of my eye, and as I reflexively raised my shield, an arrow struck it. Before I could understand what had happened, something slipped beneath my shield, pressed an arrow against my throat, and said,
"I'm not in that tree."
"How?" That was all I could say. I had seen him climb that tree.