Dart Game Scene
A scene from my wip, book 3 of the War of Destiny series. I hope you enjoy it. (And if anyone has darts origins insights, I'm all ears. :)
Matthew jumped up and said, “Let’s play a game of darts.”
“Pray tell, how is a game of darts supposed to help? Besides, we have no target board or darts to play with,” I questioned.
Undeterred, he crouched down next to the fireplace and scooped up soot onto his finger. Standing, he drew a large circle on the wall next to the fireplace, followed by two slightly smaller circles. He turned back to the fireplace with a metal poker and sifted through both uncharred and charred wood. I watched in growing curiosity as he poked and prodded the pieces until he got into the ash. I tilted my head and was about to ask him what he was looking for when I saw a tiny red coal buried in the debris.
Moments later, I watched it burst into yellow and orange flame, showering the room with a warm glow. The two candles on the table extinguished themselves simultaneously. Matthew never missed a beat as he moved past me and knelt beside his supplies. “Appearances, Julia. Humans don’t let their home fires go out unless absolutely necessary. We also do not want to set the place on fire by accidently knocking over one of the candles.”
“And what would we knock them over with?”
“These,” Matthew replied, standing with two small knives in his hand. “In lieu of darts, my lady. You may go first.”
I was smiling before I had realized my lips had formed it. As I joined him, I marveled that it was the first smile that I did not have to force or think about in a long time. I took my knife, aimed, and threw it at the circle he had drawn on the wall. It planted itself just barely inside the largest circle.
Matthew threw his. It landed well within the second circle. Turning, he raised an eyebrow at me. “A little out of practice, dare I say? That throw was terrible, Julia.”
I walked forward and pulled out both knives. “I haven’t trained in five years, so I would agree.”
Matthew took his makeshift dart and gestured for me to go again. “Even a talented swordsman will lose his skill if he doesn’t practice,” he commented.
I concentrated on the target in front of me before launching the projectile again. “I wasn’t allowed to. I guess the others didn’t trust me enough to spar or leave weapons in my possession.”
“Mmm,” Matthew grunted as he completed his turn. “Shall we do best out of five rounds?”
“That sounds fun,” I replied, surprised he didn’t question me more.
“Excellent!” He smiled as we lined up for another turn. As we played, the conversation revolved around rather frivolous subjects such as the weather and a few parties in which Matthew had attended over the years. A few jokes and tips were speckled in, and although there were times when the conversation turned awkward, it was quite enjoyable.
Matthew winced slightly as I hurled my knife at the drawn target. As with my last three tries, it remained within the large circle, although closer to the center each time. A moment later, his graceful movement landed his in the center of the smallest circle.
“You make it seem so easy,” I grumbled as I pulled my knife back out. He retrieved his as well, and turned to me as I got ready to make my last throw.
A second later he stopped me before I could release it. “Why are you clenching the muscles so? There is no need to force it. The knife should be an extension of your hand just as much as any other weapon.” His hand touched my arm in several places, lightly massaging my tight muscles. “Relax. Close your eyes and trust me.” I glared at him a second before doing so. I felt him raise my arm as he continued, “Light and loose. Extra tension only tires you and doesn’t allow aim to be true.” He coached my arm through a few practice throws. “Now try.”
I opened my eyes, sighted the target, and followed the motions from a moment ago. The knife landed center in the second ring. I turned to Matthew with a smile. “The best all night,” I said.
“So much is easier when you simply do not force it,” he answered and also took his turn. Before I could congratulate him, I heard footsteps in the hall.
“If you wreck my walls, I’m going to wreck you.”
Both Matthew and I turned towards the sound. “Samuel,” I said, surprised.
Matthew jumped up and said, “Let’s play a game of darts.”
“Pray tell, how is a game of darts supposed to help? Besides, we have no target board or darts to play with,” I questioned.
Undeterred, he crouched down next to the fireplace and scooped up soot onto his finger. Standing, he drew a large circle on the wall next to the fireplace, followed by two slightly smaller circles. He turned back to the fireplace with a metal poker and sifted through both uncharred and charred wood. I watched in growing curiosity as he poked and prodded the pieces until he got into the ash. I tilted my head and was about to ask him what he was looking for when I saw a tiny red coal buried in the debris.
Moments later, I watched it burst into yellow and orange flame, showering the room with a warm glow. The two candles on the table extinguished themselves simultaneously. Matthew never missed a beat as he moved past me and knelt beside his supplies. “Appearances, Julia. Humans don’t let their home fires go out unless absolutely necessary. We also do not want to set the place on fire by accidently knocking over one of the candles.”
“And what would we knock them over with?”
“These,” Matthew replied, standing with two small knives in his hand. “In lieu of darts, my lady. You may go first.”
I was smiling before I had realized my lips had formed it. As I joined him, I marveled that it was the first smile that I did not have to force or think about in a long time. I took my knife, aimed, and threw it at the circle he had drawn on the wall. It planted itself just barely inside the largest circle.
Matthew threw his. It landed well within the second circle. Turning, he raised an eyebrow at me. “A little out of practice, dare I say? That throw was terrible, Julia.”
I walked forward and pulled out both knives. “I haven’t trained in five years, so I would agree.”
Matthew took his makeshift dart and gestured for me to go again. “Even a talented swordsman will lose his skill if he doesn’t practice,” he commented.
I concentrated on the target in front of me before launching the projectile again. “I wasn’t allowed to. I guess the others didn’t trust me enough to spar or leave weapons in my possession.”
“Mmm,” Matthew grunted as he completed his turn. “Shall we do best out of five rounds?”
“That sounds fun,” I replied, surprised he didn’t question me more.
“Excellent!” He smiled as we lined up for another turn. As we played, the conversation revolved around rather frivolous subjects such as the weather and a few parties in which Matthew had attended over the years. A few jokes and tips were speckled in, and although there were times when the conversation turned awkward, it was quite enjoyable.
Matthew winced slightly as I hurled my knife at the drawn target. As with my last three tries, it remained within the large circle, although closer to the center each time. A moment later, his graceful movement landed his in the center of the smallest circle.
“You make it seem so easy,” I grumbled as I pulled my knife back out. He retrieved his as well, and turned to me as I got ready to make my last throw.
A second later he stopped me before I could release it. “Why are you clenching the muscles so? There is no need to force it. The knife should be an extension of your hand just as much as any other weapon.” His hand touched my arm in several places, lightly massaging my tight muscles. “Relax. Close your eyes and trust me.” I glared at him a second before doing so. I felt him raise my arm as he continued, “Light and loose. Extra tension only tires you and doesn’t allow aim to be true.” He coached my arm through a few practice throws. “Now try.”
I opened my eyes, sighted the target, and followed the motions from a moment ago. The knife landed center in the second ring. I turned to Matthew with a smile. “The best all night,” I said.
“So much is easier when you simply do not force it,” he answered and also took his turn. Before I could congratulate him, I heard footsteps in the hall.
“If you wreck my walls, I’m going to wreck you.”
Both Matthew and I turned towards the sound. “Samuel,” I said, surprised.
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