That hadn?t helped its wearer either, though it made it harder to get the arrow out undamaged. ?Kin I zee?? he said.?Thass new.?

Edain shook his head wordlessly as he grasped an arrow delicately with both sets of forefinger-and-thumb and pulled. He didn?t like letting strangers touch his longbow-that one had been a special gift from his father, Aylward the Archer, the old man?s personal war-bow that he?d set aside when he could no longer bend it. Rudi bent to retrieve his own and let the other man try it. Jake grunted incredulously; his arms were knotted with hard lean muscle, but they quivered and shook and he abandoned the effort before the string was halfway to his jaw. Drawing the great war-bow wasn?t just a matter of raw strength, though it needed that too. You had to have the knack, and that came from long and constant training-Mackenzies started their children at age six or so.

Edain slipped his own weapon into the carrying loops beside his quiver, cleaned his hands on a tuft of grass and pointed to the bow riding behind one of the horsemen?s saddles with a crook-fingered let me have that gesture. The rider hesitated for a moment, then handed it down. ?Fiberglass,? the young Mackenzie archer said, at the feel of the

stave.

That meant it was pre-Change, and lucky not to have aged and cracked into uselessness. The stuff the old world had confusingly called plastic mostly didn?t rot, but it lost strength and suppleness unpredictably. Then he bent it with one contemptuous finger on the string before handing it back. ?Twenty, twenty-five pounds draw. Nobbut a toy for little children, and feeble children at that, sure.?

Most warriors were proud of their gear. Rudi could see the man begin to bridle before he looked around and spat in reluctant agreement.