Eadric invited young Raynar to join him in the manor hall. Unlike the manor halls in the North, it had a paved floor, rather than a dirt one. It had a high ceiling of wood, which was the floor of the rooms above, rather than low thatch. It had a hearth at each end, each with a chimney for the smoke, rather than a fire pit with an opening in the roof for the smoke. Raynar thought it the most modern building he had ever seen, until he remembered that it had been built by the ancients.
Prince Rhiwallon and his wife were in the hall, giving orders to prepare the hall for the afternoon meeting. 'This could not all be for Hereward,' Raynar thought. It wasn't. Ten nobles soon arrived including Edwin and Morcar. Hereward slipped into the room once the nobles were seated. To Raynar, the meeting was worse than being at a moot. Too many words, not enough say. He quietly wandered out into the sunshine and was soon joined by Eadric and Hereward.
"You see the problem," Eadric said, "no one wants to be the first to engage William's army. We know he is going to move it North when the weather dries, but we don't know whether he will move it up the Welsh Marches and the west, or up through Nottingham and the center, or up through Anglia and the east. Anyone here could be in the path of the army, and yet they are willing to gamble that it won't be them."
"What about the princes?" asked Raynar, "what do they think?"
"The same," replied Eadric, "they hope that William goes through the Danelaw first, and gets chewed up. That would mean he would never get to the Welsh border, or would be much weakened when he did."
"Hereward, what about Edwin and Morcar?" asked Raynar. " Do you know their thoughts?”
"Much the same. Edwin doesn't want William stomping around in Mercia. Morcar doesn't think William will get up to Northumbria this year. They both hope that William will meet his end somewhere along the Welsh border."
"I agree. One arrow. Clean kill," said Eadric. "Without William, the Normans will have the same problem as the English. Too many lords and no one in charge."
"You have my permission to loose that arrow." mumbled Raynar. "It will save me the trouble."
"Talking of arrows. Look at the size of the arrow that man has." Eadric was looking at John showing one of his points to a Welsh bowman.
"He needs a big arrow," Hereward remarked. "Have you seen the size of his bow?"
"Talking of bows," Eadric said, "I have been aching to hold yours, Raynar.” They walked together to the guardhouse near the gate and asked the guard for Raynar's weapons. Eadric nodded his consent to the questioning look from the guard.
"It is from beyond Constantinople. Hereward thinks it is from the horsemen that run the high plains east of the Byzantine. See the lamination and the use of bone and horn. John over there, tried to make one like it, but he couldn't match the glue they used.” Raynar handed it to Eadric. "Go ahead, string it. No, the other way.” They walked towards the target that John and the Welsh archer had set up. "It takes a standard arrow, but is powerful enough for a heavy arrow. It has almost the same force as a good Welsh bow."
"I want one," replied Eadric. "It is so short. If my archers could stay mounted while they made holes in mail, then .... I don't just want one, I want a hundred."
"It is certainly deadly from horseback," said Hereward. "The archer that Raynar won it from was the finest archer I have ever seen. He did horse tricks with no hands while he loosed. Raynar and I first met over his corpse."
"Dead, too bad, he may have known the secrets of crafting them." Eadric stopped to watch John. "Thor and Woden!" Eadric exclaimed as John loosed and his arrow split the targeted post and only stopped because the flight snagged on the wood. Eadric shouted a warning to keep men back from the target, and then loosed an arrow from the Byzantine bow. His arrow finished splitting the post all the way to the ground.
The Welsh archer had John's bow now, and he was trying to draw it. John warned him of something, and the archer tied his leathers around his string fingers and his pad over his bow arm. He drew it, got it almost to three quarters, and lost his finger grip, and it snapped back onto his arm. He tried it again, this time with an arrow, and was a bit more successful.
It came to Raynar then, that all the Welsh guards and men at arms were trained archers. He asked Eadric about it. "Yes," he replied, "swordsman and archer, pikeman and archer, axeman and archer, but all trained in archery."
"Even the lords and knights?"
"There are no knights, and the lords are clan chiefs, but yes. No one looks down their nose at archers in Powys. The Welsh do not belittle their archers as the Normans and the English do."
Gwyn came walking across to them. All men’s eyes turned to watch the pretty fairie. She seemed so elfin and graceful against the background of rough and clumsy men. "John, could you please bring my things with you next time. I will be staying here with the princess for now, and perhaps even return with her to Powys."
Just then the lords emptied out of the Hall to warm themselves in the sun, and saw the giant beside the fairie and the circle of archers. They stared until their host began walking towards the split post. Rhiwallon bent and touched the point. "Whose arrow is this?" he asked. Three archers pointed to John. "Do you have others?"
"I can make you as many as you need, sire," replied John. "I have other types as well. My best selling one converts, with a twist of lead, from spearing fish to spearing knights."
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The Hoodsman - Frisians of the Fens by Skye Smith Copyright
2010-13