The Elder Gods by David Eddings, Leigh Eddings

young man scarcely past his boyhood, Longbow was quite tall and well muscled, and he could be very persuasive. After only a few incidents, the other young men of Old-Bear’s tribe came to understand that the pursuit of Misty-Water could be most hazardous.
    Misty-Water appreciated Longbow’s actions, since she had concerns of her own that required her undivided attention. She had observed that several of the other young women of the tribe viewed Longbow with a great deal of interest, and it seemed to her that it might be prudent to encourage
dis
interest. It didn’t really take Misty-Water very long to persuade those other young women that Longbow wasn’t really available. In most cases, she had accomplished this with a few hints, but a couple of the young women of the tribe had required a more direct approach. There had been a few bruises involved, but very few really serious injuries.
    Old-Bear had watched their little games. He hadn’t said anything, but he had frequently smiled.
    The other young men of the tribe viewed Longbow with a kind of awe. He had taken up his bow very early, and he had never been able to explain exactly how it was that every arrow he loosed from his long, curved bow went precisely where he wanted it to go, even at incredible distances. He had tried to explain the sense of oneness he felt with every target his arrows unerringly found. The unity of hand and eye and thought lies at the center of every archer’s skill, of course, but Longbow had realized very early that the target must be included in that unification. It was that sense of joining that lay at the core of Longbow’s unerring accuracy. He believed that his target seemed almost to draw his arrow, and that is a very difficult concept to explain.
    Misty-Water, however, had not had any difficulty understanding Longbow’s point. She had been unified with
her
target since early childhood.
    Everyone in Old-Bear’s tribe knew by now that it wouldn’t be too long before a certain ceremony would take place, but exactly
when
was entirely up to Chief Old-Bear, and the chief didn’t seem to be in any great hurry.
    Longbow and Misty-Water were fairly certain that the chief’s delay was no more than his way of teasing them, but they didn’t really think it was very funny at all.
    It was in the early summer of Longbow’s fourteenth year that Old-Bear finally conceded that the children of his lodge were probably mature enough, so with some show of reluctance he agreed that Misty-Water and Longbow could go through the ceremony which would join them for life.
    The celebration began immediately. Misty-Water’s father was the chief, and the young couple was very popular in the tribe, so their joining promised to be the happiest event of the summer. The young women of the tribe gave Misty-Water small gifts, and their gatherings around her were often punctuated with giggles.
    The young men gave Longbow well-made arrowheads, spear points, and knives, all chipped from the finest stone, and they helped him build the lodge where he and Misty-Water were to dwell.
    Finally the day of their joining arrived, and in keeping with tradition, Misty-Water arose at dawn to go alone to a quiet pool in the nearby forest to bathe and then to garb herself in the soft white deerskin garment she was to wear during the ceremony.
    Longbow was not supposed to look upon her that day until the time of the ceremony, and so he kept his eyes tightly closed as he lay on his pallet while Misty-Water gathered up her ceremonial garment and quietly left her father’s lodge. “Hurry back,” he said softly as she went out into the morning light, and she laughed a pearly little laugh that touched his very heart.
    The sun rose above the deep forest to the east, and the blue shadows of morning gradually faded as that most special of days plodded slowly along. Longbow garbed himself with some care, and then he waited.
    But Misty-Water did not return.
    By midmorning Longbow was