Into The Valley of Death - Part 8

"Fire upon the boy," he ordered.

His men were listening to him now. Their responses came more quickly than before. That, or it was fear that was driving them, for every single one of them knew that the boy had slain their commander.

Bowstrings were drawn back and a vicious barrage of arrows speared towards Beam, all of them aimed with the intent to skewer him – but that only made them easier to dodge. All the Yarmdon were decent shots with the bow, and the large majority of the arrows that they'd fired were all accurate enough to hit their mark.

But that only caused the arrows to clump together in an ever-shrinking cloud. Beam merely ran off to one side, and the arrows all missed him.

Jok felt himself flush red. It was an embarrassing sight. Never before had he ordered so many arrows be fired at a single enemy. His mind had glazed over the fact that concentrated arrow fire was easier dodged.

"Spread out your shots!" Jok ordered. "Pin him down."