Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(73)

As he turned the curved shape in the tongs, his breath became more and more uneven, but he managed to smooth the last curves before shutting down the power and pushing the goggles back.

The quick quench was followed by his slumping onto a stone to rest.

Four bows. How many more could he coax from the laser? Should he stop and use the life of the powerhead to do the delicate stonework? He took a deep breath. He still had the other powerhead.

With a quick rest and a mugful of cold water, he went back to work on the next bow. The powerhead wavered more; Nylan strained more; and he took even more time gasping and recuperating. Five bows rested on the stones.

The third bow of the afternoon creased his arms with lines of fire long before he finished, and left a knifelike pounding inside his skull. As he started on the final smoothing and melding, coaxing power out of the cells and through the powerhead, the line of light and power stuttered more and more in green bursts. Sweat poured from his forehead and around his goggles and even inside them.

His eyes burning, Nylan completed the last smoothing and flicked off the power to the wand, then set it aside and stepped toward the quench tub. He slipped on the clay, but caught himself as he dipped the bow into the quench for its momentary bath before laying it on the stone.

He sat on the stone for a long time, sipping water, eyes closed.

"Are you all right, ser?" Cessya finally asked.

"I will be." / hope, he added mentally, considering I've created six bows that might not even work, nearly destroyed the laser in the process, and feel like the local mounts have tromped me into the stone.

"Are you sure?"

The engineer opened his eyes and nodded.

"What are these?" asked Cessya.

"A new kind of bow-if they work."

"Do you need some help?"

"Well . . . if you could take the firin bank back to storage," Nylan admitted.

"Selitra! Give me a hand here. We need to store the energy cells," called Cessya.

Nylan slowly disassembled the power cables and the wand and powerhead while they carried the cells back into the tower. Then he followed with the laser components and stored them on the shelves above the power cells.

When he returned, the three were back at their stonework. Nylan extracted the woven bowstring from his pocket and tried to string the first bow. It took him three tries, probably because his arms were still aching.

Then he had to go back into the tower and find some arrows. Instead, he found Gerlich off the main hall.

"Are you ready to test the bow?" asked the engineer. "We'll need arrows and a target."

"Sure. Why not? I've got an area where I've been practicing at the south end of the meadow, near those scattered firs. We'll see what your toy will do, compared to the wooden one I worked out." Gerlich grinned, but the grin made Nylan uneasy.

The two walked back to the north tower yard, Gerlich with his own bow and quiver. The western wind felt good as it ruffled through Nylan's hair, and the engineer realized he was still hot. He handed the composite bow to Gerlich.

"Hmmm ... a little heavy, and probably too short."

Nylan looked at the curves. "Too short?"

"Well, Relyn says that a proper bow should be chin high, about three and a half cubits local."

Nylan shrugged. His bows were not quite chest high, but, easier, he suspected, to carry on horseback.

"Let's see about the draw." Gerlich took the bow and mock-nocked an arrow. "Stiffer than it looks, but probably not strong enough for the average armsman." He grinned again. "Then, there's accuracy. Let's go and see."

Nylan followed the long-legged former weapons officer across the meadow to the half-dozen scattered firs. Circular targets on ropes dangled from the limbs.

"Those just twist and flap unless you hit them square and hard," said Gerlich. "Good training."

The engineer watched as Gerlich took a long arrow from the quiver, nocked it, and released the shaft.

The shaft clunked against one of the targets, spinning it, but the shaft did not hold and angled to the ground. Gerlich released two more shafts. The same thing happened twice more.

He handed the bow back to Nylan. "What you've got is accurate; it's easy to carry; and it's probably all right for hunting. I'd like something with more power, and I think most of the locals would also. It's good, but not in the class of your blades."

Gerlich lifted and strung the big bow, then sent a shaft whistling toward the target. Thunk! The target swung in the light breeze, but the shaft held in place. "See the difference?"

Nylan nodded politely. One difference he had noted was that Gerlich had not drawn the composite bow to its full capability.

"I'll stick to my own bow and my toothpick, if you don't mind. Smaller weapons are fine for marines." Gerlich paused. "Is that all, Engineer?"

"That's all."

"I need to see about some game to fill the pots." Gerlich walked toward the trees, reclaiming the arrows and checking them, and resetting the targets. Then he raised an arm and walked briskly toward the canyon corral.

Nylan followed more slowly, wondering about both the bow and Gerlich. Why had Gerlich not drawn the bow fully? Was he worried that the metal might splinter? Nylan would never have given him a bow that he thought would fail.