“Is taking the lives of animals,” you pointed out. You touched my nose with your brush. Ink stained my skin. You laughed. “Something without any killing.”
At the time, I could not fathom what you meant. I did plenty of worthwhile things. Like hunting, and riding, and wrestling. All good Qorin ways to spend one’s time. I did not have your talent for calligraphy, and I’ve never had a good hand for drawing. Kenshiro could play the shamisen, but I could not tell one note from another. If I was not hunting, riding, or wrestling, what was I supposed to be doing?
I found the answer in a roundabout sort of way. Because I broke Kenshiro’s bow while out riding, I decided to make a new one for him. From finding good solid bamboo to tracking down a stag for its horns and sinew, I found the whole process a welcome distraction. My idle hours were spent working on the bow, and I could not spare many thoughts at all while I was doing it.
The bow I made for Kenshiro was not the most perfect. I forgot to find him a birch wrapping. In the Xianese rain, it would not last an entire season; the whole thing would come apart when exposed to moisture.
So I made him another. This time I tried making it all out of one piece of wood, which led to many, many snapped bows. After a week’s worth of terrible attempts, I found a shape that stayed put. Of course, that shape was more Hokkaran than Qorin, but at least it would not come apart in the rain. And it was not quite so large as a Hokkaran bow. Somewhere in the middle, then, like we were.
I found it took less time to make a bow from a single piece of wood, so long as I knew what I was doing. One day was all it took there. For Qorin bows, it could take up to a week, since I had to put all the parts together first, and subject them to the right amount of stress at the right angle and …
Well, if I’m being honest, the Hokkaran bow is much easier to make, and I’m somewhat ashamed it took me so long to get the hang of it. There are so many more variables with the Qorin kind. My problem was that I kept trying to make the Hokkaran bow short, and it did not have the power it needed.
But once I realized I had to make it larger, things got much simpler.
Every now and again, I’d see one of Kenshiro’s men carrying around a bow I’d made with my own two hands. It felt good to create something. You were right about that.
But eventually I had to make a bow for myself, one strong enough that I would not break it. Not something I could do alone, since I was less than a novice. I told Kenshiro about my plans, and he invited a local bowyer to help me. Since all of Xian-Lai by now knew I had a damaged tongue, I could not speak to the man. Kenshiro had to do all the talking at our introduction.
“My sister,” he said, “enjoys making bows in her spare time. She wishes to make something more difficult: a Qorin-style bow so strong, no man can draw it. Will you help her?”
The bowyer wrinkled his nose at me. Did I smell?
“A bow no man can draw,” he said. “Why do you want to do this thing, child?”
Child. I was seventeen, yet still a child. I grimaced; Kenshiro deftly stepped in.
“Remember, my friend, you speak to Lady Shefali, my little sister. She may be a child, but we don’t like to remind her of it,” he said.
The bowyer huffed. “That does not explain why she wants such a bow.”
Kenshiro grinned. He had an answer ready. “Only the man who can draw it will be able to marry her,” he said.
At this, the bowyer chuckled. He reached to clap me on the shoulder, then thought better of it. “To work, then,” he said. “Can’t have any weak-armed Hokkaran boys stealing you away.”
Two months, it took us, for we could not use birch and bamboo and normal horn. Oh no. We purchased an exotic sort of horn from a merchant recently returned from Ikhtar; we used yew, and not birch. Bamboo was still present, though in smaller amounts, and the bow received a double coating of birch bark to save it from water. For the string, we used bear sinew. Bear sinew. I had to hunt the bear myself, Shizuka; do you have any idea how hard it is to hunt a bear on one’s own?
Oh, do not look at me like that! It is still hard in my condition!
The bowyer complained constantly. “This does not feel right,” he’d say when we added in the sinew. “There’s too much; it’s going to be far too stiff. Ah, but I suppose that is the point.…”
It was difficult for him to make something useless on purpose, I think.
Regardless, the end result was, and still is, the most beautiful bow I’ve ever seen. When it was done, we passed it around the barracks. Not a single soul could budge the string.
Kenshiro clapped when he heard. “Good,” he said, “then I shall not have to marry you to any of them, Shefali-lun. Could you imagine how upset O-Shizuka-shon would be, to lose her closest friend?”
Except the way he said it … He knew. He had to have known, Shizuka. I blushed and cleared my throat.
We resolved to test the bow that night. Baozhai came along to see. The four of us stood in the barracks. Kenshiro dismissed the watchmen for an hour or so—enough time for us to have some practice.
I hefted the thing. It’s heavy, for a bow. At normal shooting distance I stood, far enough away that the target was a bit hard to see.
I took a breath. I no longer had the ring I’d need to draw this bow the normal way. Then again, I didn’t feel much pain anymore; what did it matter if the string cut my fingers?
I drew. It was not easy, but it was not so hard as everyone made it look. Baozhai applauded the second I pulled the string a bit back. I decided to see how long I could hold it at full draw. A long while, it seemed; my shoulder ached and my old scar tugged at my skin, but it was nothing I could not ignore.
Then, the final test.
I loosed.
The arrow moved about as fast as your sword does. I did not see it fly; I only saw the target fall over from the force.
Kenshiro whistled.
“Did it go straight through?” you asked.
I walked over to it, fighting the smile on my lips. Yes, yes, the arrow had gone straight through the target. Only the back third—the fletching, and a bit more—stuck out from the fence. The rest stuck out from the other side.
Kenshiro jogged over. “Look at that!” he said. “Shefali, you must let me try to draw that thing.”
“Absolutely not!” called Baozhai.
“What?” teased my brother. He gestured for me to hand him the bow, and I did. My face hurt from smiling. This was going to be good. Kenshiro could barely draw a normal Qorin bow. Oh, sure, he was older now, but as you came over, I stood next to you and cackled.
“Does he want to lose a finger?” you said.
“I certainly hope not,” said Baozhai. “My husband is in need of all his fingers.”
You shot her a sidelong glance and smirked. “Is he, now?”
Baozhai hid her reddening face behind her fan. I cleared my throat. You winked at me. That did not lessen my secondhand embarrassment.