"Careful," the voice beside me said. "Pull back slowly, in case you decide to screw up and hurt yourself."
I bit the inside of my cheek, a habit I'd had since I was six years old. I kept my eye on my target, which happened to be a fat lizard sunning itself on a nearly-submerged rock in the middle of the river. I pinched the leather strap between my thumb and forefinger and pulled back on the rubbery string to the point where it was stretched from my hand to the bottom of my chin. The rock hidden within the leather was sharp; I could tell because it was coming close to tearing through the leather and poking my thumb. But I knew it wouldn't do that. Etzel made this slingshot, which means it had to be fool proof.
I took a deep breath and heard the boy beside me do the same. Then I released the rock, and it sailed across the river and hit the lizard hard in the side. The reptile, still alive and nearly unhurt, was startled enough to fall into the water and rush away with the current.
I didn't care that my prey was lost.
I hit it. I actually hit it, and on my first try.
Etzel was as surprised as I was. I turned to look at him, and he was ecstatic. His eyes were alight with joy, something I hadn't seen much in the past two weeks I'd been with him.
"Nice one!" he exclaimed, "and here I thought you'd be a screw up!"
I would have responded to this, probably with some sort of witty retort, but I was too busy smiling. I looked down at the slingshot in my hand.
"It's pretty neat," I said. My eyes shifted to the bow that was strapped across Etzel's back, "But I still think learning archery would be more useful."
The boy shook his head and rested a protective hand on the string of the bow that stretched along his chest.
"Nope, this thing ain't a toy. It's a weapon, one that can kill people. Like me," he shook his head again finished with, "You ain't touching it."
"I know it's not a toy!" I argued. I didn't see how it was fair of him to have a bow and me not to. Etzel was twelve, just a year older than I was. Why should he have gotten the good weapons while I was stuck with a lousy slingshot?
Etzel started to walk away, and I followed him at a slow trot, trying to keep up but not wanting to be right on his heels.
"Did you start with a slingshot?" I questioned. "Like I am?"
He nodded and took a sharp turn, following the slightly faded path that lead back to our 'campsite'.
"Yeah, I started with it, and was stuck with it for a good six months. I hated the thing, but I would still choose it over a sword."
"Why's that?"
Etzel stopped and, in one swift movement, pulled the bow from his back and had an arrow notched. He let it fly into a crowd of leafy limbs twenty feet from where we stood. I heard the arrow hit something, and down from the cluster of leaves dropped a fat bird of some kind.
"Distance, for one," Etzel said, walking to retrieve the bird. "And, 'specially with a slingshot, you can stay hidden somewhere, like in a tree or somethin', and pick off the enemy one by one, soldier by soldier, just like that. One of the downsides, though-"
Etzel leaned down and pinned the bird to the ground with his knee. With his right hand, he jerked the arrow free from the birds chest and wiped the tip on his pants. "If you don't retrieve your arrows, you could run out at any time."
I stood watching, silent. He looked up at me and grinned.
"Don't you worry, though, Alto."
He tied a bit of string around the birds neck and, holding the other end of the string, swung the fowl over his shoulder. He put his other arm around me and we continued our walk to the camp.
"You'll be fine with that sling, s'long as you always remember to keep a pocketful of rocks."
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