Chapter Eleven The Hare, The Bow and the Girl

Eleven – Roving Marks

 

The day of the tourney dawned gray and stormy. Clouds had rolled in overnight, but the threatening rain held off. Still, I hardly noticed the weather. My mind was on one thing: winning. Well okay—two things. I was also thinking about Karn. I couldn’t help myself. I was sure that I could do well enough to persuade even the meanest of dads that I was an okay guy. I had spent the night convincing myself of that.

The archery grounds had been transformed with a large viewing stand for town notables—including the king and his colorfully decked court—and an area in front for the common folk. As the morning warmed up, people streamed into the area to watch. I guess it was a highlight of the fair.

 The competition was divided into a series of matches. There was a target match, the more traditional of the matches, where archers shoot at targets to score points. Then there was a match of roving marks. Here the archers aimed to hit targets in a large field, the targets being anything: a tree trunk, a rock, or a clump of grass. The tourney had a more formal field, with various objects placed at intervals. Points were scored for how close one got to the targets. A second round had a speed factor built in, the faster one got through the field the better, but scoring still mattered. Another match had a small wooden bird resting atop a tall wooden tower. Archers took turns trying to shoot the bird down. Last was the wand match, where thin strips of wood—the largest no more than a couple of inches wide, the thinnest like a twig—were set up. Points were given for how many arrows one could stick into the strip.

I had decided to enter the target match as it seemed that everyone else had as well. I also put my name down for the field of roving marks; I felt I could do better if speed of loading and firing were the issue.

I carefully strung my bow and sorted through my remaining arrows, checking to make sure that the feathers attached were true and smart. As I looked around at the other competitors I noticed more than a few dressed in similar clothes. Later on I learned they were members of the royal guard. They had somewhat longer bows, good for making the arrow fly farther and penetrate with more force but less agile in handling. What I did notice was that their quivers were all bags, not open like mine. I made a mental note to try and get such a bag myself.

The field competition was first. I found the first match fairly tedious, which probably was reflected in my performance. The entire field, and there were about twenty of us, had to take turns shooting. I found myself growing impatient as those ahead of me would take all the time in the world to find and aim at the next target. I wondered how on earth any of these people ever hunted or, God forbid, went to war if they had to take so long to aim.  My youth and impatience got to me. By the time I got up, I’d often shoot quickly, as if to show the yokels there how it was done. My youthful impatience and ignorance showed. I placed well below the top three.

But the next round was the highlight of the day for me. This was the speed round. Points were given for how close one hit the target, but time was also kept by a young boy with a graded hourglass. The fastest time got an extra 50 points, not enough to win outright but coupled with a decent score for targets, it would allow you to win. I was 19th in a field of 21 that day. By the time I got up to the start the clouds had cleared and the sun was directly overhead. It was warm and I was already sweating. As best as I could tell I needed to score about three points a target. This would mean getting at least within a man’s foot of each target. If I could hit some, worth five points, that would be even better. The time was the issue. The fastest so far had been from a guy who seemed to be in the guard, at least based on the cheers that would arise from a small group of similarly dressed men on the sidelines every time he hit a target. He had done the 20 targets in 12 minutes.

His speed had attracted a small crowd—most people had been drifting away all morning due to the lackluster competition. But as the soldier went over to his group of friends I noticed people again began to drift off. Even amongst his friends I saw men turn to leave but he put his hand up and beckoned them back. Looking my way a few times he talked to them for a moment. Several shrugged, but they all sat down again to watch.

So, I had been noticed but I was not the type to seek out notice or fame. To be honest I would have rather to have no one care, but I tried my best to brush it off. If anything, I was determined to show the soldier and his buddies that the last round had been due to my carelessness and not my skill.

The man with the glass shouted, “Start!”

The first target was a rusted cowbell on a flat rock about 20 feet from the start. I loaded in my first arrow and let it fly. I was wide—way wide. No points. I cursed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some of the soldiers make dismissive motions and complain to their buddy, but he stayed them again.

I took a deep breath. Out of nowhere I thought of Karn…her soft brown eyes and her dark hair. It should have made me mad, but instead I felt a great calm settle over me. It is one of those times in your life where something clicks. I think before I would have tried too hard, tried to show that I was worthy. But I resolved there and then to prove myself to no one except myself. I felt the calm settle and a weight lift from me.

For the past few days I had poured my energy into getting ready to win at any cost in the competition. And since yesterday I had wanted to win to prove to Karn I was worthy. But like some sort of clockwork puzzle, everything suddenly clicked into place. Out there in the field I felt a change come over me and an understanding opened up in my mind.

Despite what Walter had said, I had been brought to this place for a reason. Only, it wasn’t some sort of weird prophecy thing or anything; I had come this far for me. I had been drifting on the mountain, waiting for things to happen after my parents died. But I realized that I did not need to wait. I had the ability to move forward myself despite everything. Mooning over Karn was not going anywhere. Following along with Walter and Jet was not going to get me any further, either. If I was to join up with them or anyone else it had to be on my terms due to my skills. I had to prove to myself I was capable, no one else.

It didn’t matter if I was on the mountain or there in the valley. What mattered was what I was able and willing to do.

The next few minutes were like a trance. I don’t recall how many targets I hit but I know I hit more dead-on than not. No motion was wasted. Every stride, every loading, every pull was only exactly what was needed—no more, no less. I knew, deep down inside, that this was something I could do. I knew the bow. I may not have known much about Blackberry valley, but I did know the bow. I shut out everything except for the bow, the arrow, and the feel of the string. When the string felt right I pulled and not until then. Every arrow either hit true or stuck a few inches shy. I was completely unaware of the world around me.

What pulled me out were the cheers. I looked around and found myself at the end of the course, facing the soldiers and a somewhat larger crowd than I remembered. The lead soldier was staring open-mouthed as his buddies slapped him on the back. He saw me, smiled, and did a little bow. I had beaten his time by a clean couple of minutes and topped his score as well.

I suddenly felt nervous again, back in this world I barely understood. I wanted to go find Walter and Jet. I saw them almost right away.

“Well, okay, that’s done. Now we find more beer and this time we don’t stop until we pass out, okay?” I said as they walked up.

“Now you’re talking. Glad to see you out of your funk,” Walter said gruffly. “How did you do?”

“Won it, Walter. Beat the time and the score.”

Walter let is surprise show before he could cover it up. “Must have been a pretty weak field,” he grinned.

I was too happy to get mad. “Well, Walter, I beat that blind cripple fair and square!”

All of us laughed.

“What about the last match?” asked Jet.

“What for, Jet? I mean, even Walter now has to agree I’m pretty handy with the bow.”

“What? That little parade of hitting still objects? Please, I’ve seen old men move faster than you did out there,” Walter growled, but he had a smile on his face when I looked.

“Tell you what then, Walter: you take a running start and I’ll see if I can hit you!”

He made what seemed like a rude gesture, “Easy whelp. Let’s get that beer.”

“Good idea. Tonight we can celebrate. I‘ll buy the drinks and blow all of my prize winnings. But tomorrow we have to talk seriously. If I’m to stick around these parts, we need a plan.”

Jet smiled a smile I had not seen yet from her. She nudged Walter, “See Walt, I told you he’d come around.”

Walter just groaned but smiled, “Before we all start making patty cakes I suggest we find a batch of the strong stuff. Come, I know just the place.”

We were just ready to leave when the soldier from the match came up. He bowed again and smiled. “You, sir, are a good shot. Best I have seen in a while.”

“Thank you.”

Walter huffed, “Now we’ll never hear the end of it.”

The soldier looked puzzled.

I shot Walter a that’s enough glare. “Don’t mind him,” I told the soldier. “He’s smoked too much lavender.”

“Okay, then. My name is Coltier.”

“Eric.”

“Eric, pleased to meet you. Listen, the real reason I am here is to bring you to meet King Kitsunamoshee.”

I was taken aback. I immediately noticed Walter had a worried look on his face.

“Why?” I stammered. “What have I done?” I was, at that moment, keenly aware of my strange position in the country.

“It is a good thing, sir, I assure you. He merely wants to compliment you on your archery skills.”

I looked at Walter but he said nothing. His eyes gave nothing away now, which was unsettling. Jet, however, looked as though she had eaten something sour. I may not have known much, but I figured it was impolitic to refuse the summons of a king.

I shrugged. “Okay, lead the way.”

Walter and Jet stood rooted to the spot as I left to follow the solider. I looked back but could only see Walter’s stony stare.

Coltier led me to the grandstand behind the archery range. People in colorful garb still were walking around. I was led to the very center where, behind a curtain, a smaller group of people milled. One man—young, but still older than me—was garbed head to toe in deep, rich indigo. Coltier bowed deeply to this man. I stood behind him, uncertain what to do.

“Sire, this is the young man I spoke to you about.”

The man in blue turned and smiled a toothy grin, “Young man, excellent shooting today. Do tell me your name.”

“Eric, sir. Pleased to meet you,” I offered him my hand.

He looked down puzzled, “Eric, yes. Tell me sir, where are you from? You are not known around here, no?”

“No, sir. I am from…up north.”

“Aquitania?”

“Beyond that, sir.”

The king had a strange look on his face, almost of surprise. “I see. And they do not bow before kings there?”

“No, sir. Where I come from all are equal. We bow before no one.”

An annoyed look flitted across his face. But then the king smiled, hiding his displeasure. “Amusing. At any rate, Eric, you displayed excellent skills today. A little rough perhaps, a little wild, but still vast potential. I have a proposition for you. I wish to invite you into a new guard I am assembling, one which will report directly to me. You see, Eric, I am to be married tomorrow and with that marriage I will be next in line not only to be king of my domain but of this one too. My marriage will unite the two kingdoms of Williams and Early. I plan to modernize the guard here. I need good men like you.”

I honestly did not know what to say. I had a feeling that I would have to discuss this with Walter, especially after the look on his face when Coltier had spoken the king’s name

“Thank you, sir. I will consider your offer. As I am new around these parts, may I give you an answer in the morning?” I figured, even as naive as I was, that saying no to a king right off the bat would be unwise.

The king was taken back, but again smiled, “Certainly. Why not? It is a good thing to think before one acts, no? Come to the castle in the afternoon and give the quartermaster your answer. My marriage is in the morning. Things will be busy then, I suspect. Ah yes, here comes the blushing bride now. May I introduce you to Princess Karnattia, my bride.”

I think every hair on my body stood upright when I heard the name, even before the woman dressed head to toe in soft blue silk turned her head. It seemed to take forever for her to turn and face me, to confirm what I instantly knew.