by Jacky Gray
The innkeeper took up the idea, picturing the sign. ‘I can see it now, “The Open Arms welcomes Archer, Finn and Fletch – the modern day Robin Hoods.” Or maybe “Brewer’s Ale, as drunk by …” where did you say you came from?’
‘Hold your horses. This is all getting a bit too much. I would prefer you didn’t mention where we’re from. What I really want, is for this to die down completely. I don’t like all this attention.’
‘Well, I’m afraid this is what happens when you do remarkable things. Everyone loves a hero and we haven’t had any for a while.’
Eventually, they agreed to sign a parchment as proof they’d been there and he promised not to mention from whence they came. He also said he would let the constables in Oxford and Dorchester know about the Renegates, so they could send some patrols to catch them. He insisted they shouldn’t pay for their drinks. Archer compromised by paying for the hay the horses had been happily munching on.
‘You’re much too innocent Archer; you could really make some money out of this.’ Fletch could see many possibilities.
‘And what do you think is going to happen when they find out we’re mere juniors? Nothing but trouble. Let’s hope it all blows over until next year, then it won’t matter any more.’
No more was said and the rest of the trip passed without event. The white horse visit disappointed; it seemed a lot smaller than they remembered from their lehren day-trip, years before. The fine summer’s day saw it packed with people. They waited for ages to get food, so by the time they reached Ogbourne, it was late. The young boys who had made up the first song were nowhere to be seen, so they missed out on the gingerbread and hero-worship. It was far too late to see Merlin’s mound, so they finished the day soaking their dusty feet in the Kennet.
*
Archer was still smiling at the memory of the three of them with their feet dangling in the brook, when Finn shook his shoulder. ‘Wake up dozy. You’ve had a stupid grin on your face for the last ten minutes. What did those girls promise you?’
‘What? I was thinking of our trip to Oxford last year.’
‘Well now’s your chance to see if you’ve learnt anything. Come on.’
19 Archery Round
In fact, the distraction stopped the nerves which might have taken the edge off Archer’s performance. Although confident of his gift in any kind of danger, concentration and accuracy in front of an audience was an entirely different matter. The range had three targets lined up at one end, with white lines marked at forty paces for the boys. Each paper target had four concentric rings – with one point for the outer black; two points for the white; three points for the red and five points for the bull: a gold circle merely five inches in diameter.
Archer took his place in the centre, with Finn to the left and Beorn on the right. While Malduc introduced the event, Archer checked the laces on his arm brace were secure so they would not come free and distract his eye. He touched the arrow at the nock, purely for luck; the bow string was already waxed to perfection. Bowman’s special grease contained lard, white wax and something he would not divulge. A spot of this on the fingertips countered the effects of sweat which caused all manner of problems.
The Seneschal counted down from three to one. Although it was more a test of accuracy than speed, in the event of a tie, the archer loosing all three arrows in the shortest time would win. In any shot, much of the time was taken in carefully nocking the arrow, then lining up the bow. Archer was well practiced; each arrow went from quiver to bow in a single move so fluid that all three were loosed in less than ten seconds. The tips were clustered so closely they would each have scored five points if the gold circle had been only an inch in diameter.
Archer stood motionless as Finn fired his third arrow. A heartbeat later, Beorn’s third went into the divide between the red and the gold, earning him the full five points.
The Seneschal kept it brief. ‘Archer first, Finn second, Beorn last. Next contenders to the toe line please.’
A second set of targets had already been prepared and were in position by the time Edlyn, Tybalt and Melvyn took their places. Tybalt’s first arrow landed in the red, his second in the gold. Just as he was about to release the third, Melvyn fumbled with his arrow and bent down to pick it up. Tybalt’s concentration was broken and his third arrow looked as though it would miss altogether. Inexplicably, with only a couple of paces to go, it dropped down, barely getting into the black. Edlyn’s third arrow joined the other two in the white and Melvin’s last arrow landed outside the scoring area.
As Niall shouted the finishing order, Fletch whispered angrily that Melvyn had deliberately dropped it to distract Tybalt. Archer hushed him as he tried to work out whether his friend would still advance to the next round. Finn beat him to it. ‘I think Melvyn threw the last shaft to secure Edlyn a place in the next round. I’ve seen him aim better than that.’
They could talk no more as the three Magi joined them in the Worthies enclosure. Archer gave Tybalt a victory handclasp, and wished Fletch good luck, even though he was a certain winner. Then he slipped away to the practice range to help Dervla as he promised. She seemed a lot happier now; Kayleigh had offered a shoulder brace which gave physical support and helped her to feel more comfortable. He thought the support of the other girls had probably done more for her than any amount of pain relieving medicine. She liked his suggestion to wear her quiver on a belt tied round her cloak. Slits in the cloak allowed her to wear it like a dress, so she wouldn’t have to take it off and do it in her bodysuit. He knew a number of the boys would be disappointed, but the last thing she needed was to feel self-conscious while she shot the arrows. She had enough things to worry about.
He asked her to do one practice shot and it landed just inside the white ring. She seemed quite happy since it was as good as she normally did. After a few minutes spent running through Patricia’s verse, the next shot landed an inch into the red. She clapped her hands and reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
‘That was amazing. I never got anything in the three ring before. You should be a tutor.’
‘I cannot claim any credit; Patricia invented the verse. She would make a good tutor.’
The female Worthies were called to the range; their event was about to start. They reached the arena as the boy’s points were added to the scoreboard. Archer and Finn were through from the Warriors; Edlyn and Tybalt were through from the Magi; Fletch and Machin were through from the Outil. Logan didn’t look too unhappy; he had only lost by two points so he hadn’t disgraced himself completely. Melvyn lost by four points and had a sour expression on his face, as did Beorn. He was not in the final despite having the fourth highest score overall.
For the girls, the toe lines were only twenty-five paces from the target and smaller targets would normally be used to compensate. Many Warrior girls were already accomplished archers at the senior female distance of thirty paces, so this would not pose a problem. During the extra practice sessions with Patricia and Chrisya, Archer realised the smaller targets would put the other clans at a disadvantage. He encouraged his charges to approach Niall with a compromise solution. Unfortunately a change of this nature had to be approved by the council, so they did not know until the day. As they waited for everyone to settle, the girls exchanged a celebratory hug – their suggestion had been accepted.
The Warrior girls were first, with only a couple of points between them. Kayleigh hit two golds, matching the second highest score of thirteen shared by Finn, Beorn and Fletch. When they reached the enclosure, Archer raised his hand in a victory clasp and she hesitated before accepting. He whispered his thanks to her for helping with Dervla and she surprised him by blushing quite deeply and hurrying off to stand with Aife. They were comforting Lexie, who had not done very well; two of her arrows had narrowly missed the bull and she knew her contest would end with bronze.
Archer felt immense satisfaction as Patricia’s first two arrows found the gold circle. The third arrow hit the sha
ft of one of the others and bounced back out to land on the grass. Several gasps and moans of sympathy from the crowd were quickly stifled as Adelisa and Rhianna still had to fire their third arrow. As soon as they had loosed them, the crowd broke into cheers and many people were calling Patricia’s name.
She received Archer’s victory clasp with shining eyes. ‘Did you see that? If it had not bounced off the other arrow I would have got three golds. That is all thanks to your fantastic training.’
‘I think it’s thanks to your fantastic dedication. No one has trained harder, not even Finn and Fletch.’
Tybalt and Rhianna came up to congratulate her for getting through. Although Adelisa had not done well, she beat Rhianna by a single point. Patricia sympathised with Rhianna, assuring that she was certain to win the arts and crafts prize; nothing else would match her painting.
They all settled down to watch the last round. In the centre, Chrisya obviously found it hard to concentrate with Dervla in front, trying to be brave in spite of her pain. Dervla must have realised she was causing a distraction and held her last arrow while the others shot theirs. Bethia finished an instant before Chrisya, who stood quietly, willing her friend on.
Dervla’s first two arrows had scored three points each and although she couldn’t win, she could go for a personal best. A spasm of pain struck her shoulder as she loosed and the bow jerked upwards, knocking the arrow off slightly. It just managed to get within the outer black giving her a total of seven. A huge cheer went up; most people in the crowd had realised something was wrong, and it was Dervla’s name they were shouting despite Bethia’s excellent score of eleven, matching Patricia’s overall total of twenty. The final scoreboard for the sports round went up and the lowest scoring contenders from each column were struck through.
Warrior
Magi
Outil
Archer
26
Tybalt
19
Fletch
24
Finn
25
Edlyn
18
Machin
18
Beorn
23
Melvyn
14
Logan
16
Kayleigh
25
Patricia
20
Bethia
20
Aife
21
Adelisa
14
Chrisya
18
Lexie
18
Rhianna
13
Dervla
12
20 Craft Round
Malduc walked to the centre of the arena, with all of the Worthies behind him. ‘This is another chance for you to observe our Worthies in character, and to see how much they know about their chosen hero.’ He turned to face them.
‘I want each Worthy male to pair up with the female Worthy who they are most likely to have met. If there is no one from your lifetime, find the one closest in age. You have five minutes to decide something you could have in common, so off you go.’
Hurried conversations whispered round the arena as they worked out the dates and reasons, then he called order.
‘This time I think we’ll start with the youngest first, so Robert the Bruce who do you choose and why?’
Machin took Aife’s hand. ‘Agnes was my kin.’
‘Good. Next we’ll have Caesar.’
Edlyn bowed to Adelisa. ‘Cleopatra was my queen.’
Malduc chose the order deliberately, selecting obvious pairs first, to give the others time to think. So by the time he had collected Robin and Marian, Richard and Eleanor and Godfrey and Godiva it became easier. ‘Geoffrey of Monmouth.’
Tybalt took Lexie’s hand, ready for another performance. ‘Well now, it could be because our names both start with a G, me being a man of letters an’ all. But I think it’s because we were both Welsh, do you see?’
He got a great laugh from the crowd and a pretend cuff from Malduc whose family originated in Wales. ‘Now then Marco, you don’t seem to have a lot of choice.’
‘It has to be my Lady Isabella, although she was forty years younger, she too would have appreciated the finer things in life.’ Melvyn led Rhianna away as Malduc called for Arthur.
Finn stood between the two remaining girls. ‘Well I am completely spoilt for choice here. Two beautiful, ferocious English Queens, one four centuries before me and one five centuries after me. Both would be suitable for me, being a King of England myself. On the grounds that Boudicca is closer to Alexander’s age than Aethelflaed, I will just have to go on age. My apologies Boudicca,’ he bowed over Kayleigh’s hand, ‘maybe under different circumstances,’ then led Bethia to their place in the line.
Beorn had little left to do. He muttered something about warrior queen meeting warrior king and took his place.
Malduc led the round of applause. ‘Thank you ladies and gents, your support of these fine Worthies is appreciated. I would like to invite you to help yourself to refreshments in the pavilion. Meanwhile, the juniors and professors will decide which of the artefacts they have crafted is worthy of the prize.’ He paused as a few people laughed at his weak jest. ‘We will be starting the knowledge round promptly at one o’clock, so please take your places in front of the main stage by ten to one.’
The crowd made their way to the pavilion and Niall led the Worthies to three tables, where they had to stay in character, answering questions put to them by the other juniors. As well as noting the best characterisation for the final vote, they also had to decide which Worthy was the best actor and which had the best costume. The craft projects were also assessed. Although supposed to be anonymous, most voters could make pretty good guesses based on the known skills or hobbies of the entrants. Each completed voting slip was exchanged for a refreshment token.
During the break, people speculated about who would win the craft prize, the favourites were a beautiful painting and a very professional book of poems, each page decorated with ornate lettering and clever illustrations. Archer submitted a bow he had made from scratch at Bowman’s workshop. Many entries were useful or decorative items like cakes, embroidery, a shield or a baldric. They were well-crafted, but didn’t really attract Archer’s attention. He voted for an original quiver with separate pockets for bits and pieces like gloves, bracer and spare horn tip.
Fletch was pleased with the approval, he had worked hard to keep his invention secret. He was unusually complimentary about a waxed jacket. ‘That got my vote. No more getting soaked feeding the hens in the pouring rain. Excellent design.’
‘I got the idea when I spilt some candle wax on my tabard.’ Patricia appeared embarrassed by the praise.
‘Well done, I always knew you were smart.’
‘Not only smart, she got more sporting points than all the other Magi, even the boys.’ Finn’s fascination for details made him an excellent intelligence officer. He had written down everyone’s scores, analysing them as he spoke. ‘I liked the breeches with lots of pockets for storing tools and weapons, very useful.’
‘Kayleigh made those, she’s always losing things and she hates wearing an apron, says it makes her look like a girl.’ Patricia was glad to put the focus on someone else.
‘But she is a girl.’ Fletch’s expression added the “stupid.”
‘Are you sure about that? She fights like a boy and apart from me and Archer, she scored more points than all the other boys.’
‘Finn that’s horrible.’ Patricia was appalled. ‘Especially after you turned her down for Bethia.’
He looked up from his notebook, confused that anyone could take offence at his remark. ‘I did say she was beautiful.’
‘And ferocious.’ Fletch saw a chance to tease.
‘No, I meant her character. Boudicca was ferocious. You know; knives on her chariot wheels and all that.’
‘You’re not getting away with it Finn, you’ve ju
st been horrible about her and you know it.’ Fletch wouldn’t let it drop.
‘Who’s he being horrible about?’ No-one had noticed Kayleigh walking up and they all froze.
Patricia was the first to recover. ‘Oh you know Finn. He’s always being horrible about someone. He says you scored more points than all of the girls and most of the boys, well done.’
‘Thanks, it’s the only thing I can do. I’ve just been looking at the crafts. They’re all better than mine, I’m sure to be out this round. It’s a good job really, my general knowledge is rubbish.’
As she turned round, Finn signalled his appreciation to Patricia for saving his hide. He mimed a prayer of thanks.
She raised her eyes heavenwards then mouthed, ‘you were lucky this time.’
Finn grinned as Professors Kenryk, Gail and Jadon approached to collect the Worthies, lining them up in clans and leading them through to the main stage. Traditionally, before the knowledge quiz started, the medals from the first two rounds were given out, bronze to the lowest scorers in the sports, copper to those knocked out in the craft round.
Malduc congratulated all the Worthies for the high standard of their craft items. Beorn, Lexie, Melvin, Rhianna, Logan and Dervla got bronze medals. As each name was called out, he presented them with a certificate listing their achievements; then they joined the rest of the graduating juniors in front of the dais. Finn, Aife, Tybalt, Adelisa, Machin and Chrisya got copper medals, the others sat on the stage in their clans.
Malduc addressed the remaining Worthies. ‘Because you have been identified as the top student of your clan, your names will be taken out of the votes for the craft and character prizes. Professors Sophia and Cathair are now going to recount those in time for the final prize giving.’