Chapter 3. Shafts of Realisation
Great applause followed by much hand shaking when Nar’Allia and her family walked down the path from their home and entered the open area in the centre of the village. Trestle tables had been set up around the edge where after all the greeting had been done, everyone settled down to await the celebrations. Nar’Allia was feeling a little taken aback by all the attention. Even though she of course knew everyone here, had grown up with them all, she still felt embarrassed that they should be taking so much interest in her, after all she didn’t feel especially distinctive in their company.
She looked around at the sea of faces, she was glad to be here, after all this was now her home, this was the place she would always call home. Here was her community, all hardworking down to earth people, they looked out for each other, helped each other, none were wanting, for they shared everything they had. She felt blessed.
But then the feast was at hand. Several men and women walked down the same path they had just come down carrying platters of all sorts of fare. Another cheer arose an especially loud one from the menfolk at the appearance of four men carrying two large barrels of ale upon wooden litters. From another path immediately opposite came a group of people gaily dressed carrying musical instruments. They set up beneath a large tree in the shade to one side and started to play lively tunes but for the moment at least quietly, they would turn up the volume once the dancing started later. Nar’Allia smiled, yes, she was blessed, blessed indeed. Yet this was a small place, a confined place. People placed expectations on one another whether consciously or subconsciously. She looked around the sea of faces, there with his family was her friend Lo’Rosse. He was looking at her, he smiled and blew her a kiss. She smiled back and averted her eyes. Yes, expectations, some of which she would have rather done without. Her father took her hand, blowing her thoughts from her mind, she kissed him upon the cheek.
A great time was had by all, gifts were showered upon Nar’Allia and speeches were made by several people, all designed to be amusing and sometimes darn right embarrassing. Thankfully being female she was not expected to make a speech of her own, her father spoke on her behalf. Then it was over, at least the first part, the feasting and formal part. All the townsfolk walked past the table and paid their respects to Nar’Allia and her family as is traditional on such occasions as this. Then finally came the time in the mid afternoon when the merriment was due to start, this was what everyone was really here for, T’Iea loved gaiety and revelled in celebrations. Later when it got dark there would be dancing, but now Nar’Allia had kept her promise, she stood and after waiting for the general hubbub to cease she announced that there would be an archery tournament with knock-out rounds of increasing distance until one archer remained who was the clear winner over all others in accuracy and distance. There was great excitement as the tables in the centre of the village were set aside and a clear way made so that an archery field could be set out with two targets. The competitors retired home to get their bows and arrows and other equipment. Nar’Allia was no exception, she certainly did not want to shoot a bow in the long dress she wore, not that it would have affected her skill but she felt much more comfortable shooting in her everyday garb. Once all those who were to compete had returned the competition started. To start the two adjudicators strode amongst the competitors asking each one to draw an arrow shaft from a quiver, each shaft had a mark carved into the lower end that was hidden from view inside the quiver. Then once this was done the competitors who had drawn similarly marked shafts would be pitted against one another. The winner of each round would then progress to the next, then the next and so forth until two archers were left to shoot out for the winning position.
The shooting went on for a couple of hours until eventually four archers remained. One pair consisted of Nar’Allia playing against her father Iolrreas, the second pair Lo’Rosse pitted against another female archer an older girl called Ter’n’ulee. Nar’Allia knew her to be a more than competent archer. Lo’Rosse would need to pull something special from his skills to best her. But he shot well and eventually won his round. So now Nar’Allia stood side by side against her father. Despite what Minervar had requested, Nar’Allia had opted to use her own bow, she wanted to be sure to win, partly to prove a point to Lo’Rosse and partly because to use the black long bow seemed almost a form of sacrilege for some reason to her. But she was getting a little worried, her short hunting bow was starting to show less promise on the greater distances that they were now shooting at. This she was finding a little frustrating, it was one thing to shoot at targets in the forest where you needed to be relatively close to minimise the quantity of trees between you and your intended target, in fact shorter hunting bows like hers were an advantage in this scenario they didn’t get in the way amongst the trees and bushes. But this was different; here she was shooting for accuracy at greater distances without any obstacles, a scenario more akin to a battle. Longer bows with weighty draws were necessary for the power required to make the arrow fly farther and not lose momentum before it was expected to penetrate the target, especially if that target wore plate armour. Nar’Allia’s hunting bow was struggling to perform against Iolrreas’s long bow. But before they commenced the next distance, Nar’Allia saw Minervar walking towards her.
Minervar had brought the ebony black long bow from above the fireplace and was now offering it to Nar’Allia with the words, “here my daughter I give it freely, may it serve you well for I do not need it, never did.”
At first Nar’Allia hesitated, she was confused by Minervar’s words, what did she mean give it freely? Simple words yet somehow they spelled out something else, there was meaning there in those words? But Nar’Allia shrugged this feeling off and glanced towards her father.
Iolrreas nodded and said, “take it my daughter, let us see what you can do with it.”
So Nar’Allia took the black bow and handed her own hunting bow back to Minervar. The black bow felt just as light in her hand as her own bow, yet this was not a lowly hunting bow made by the local village bowyer or blacksmith, this was a high crafted weapon, it was made to despatch more than deer and boar in the forest, it was made to be as individual as the one who drew upon it, this bow was made for a wholly different reason.
As she grasped the dark wood of the grip it seemed once again to vibrate ever so slightly to her touch, out here in the sun light Nar’Allia marvelled at the runes that covered the bow. Something in her mind seemed to sing as she stroked her hand along the length of the long bow. She carefully unravelled the bowstring from where it was wrapped, where it had been kept since the day that Minervar had brought it back from their adventures, she was expecting to find the cord rotted and useless for the bow had hung there above the hearth for so long. But to her surprise the gut string unravelled perfectly and looked to be in just as good condition as the day on which it was twisted and made, she marvelled at the workmanship that had gone into tracing the fine cord, each individual strand was almost hair-thin, there must have been a fair few strands making up the finished article, it shone, glinted in the sunlight like a silken cord. She raised her eyebrows at this but hooked one eyelet over the bottom notch at the lower tip of the bow, then as she had done a thousand times before with her own bow, she tried to stress the bow to hook the other eyelet to the other end. But this bow was far longer and she had difficulty, she felt clumsy and awkward for she did not know how it should be done.
Iolrreas took the bow from her grasp and said, “like this my daughter.” He hooked the body of the bow behind his left leg and over the tow of his right boot, then gently pulled down, applying steady pressure on the top end of bow above his left shoulder. Nar’Allia watched as the bow flexed, when it was curved sufficiently and was under tension, he hooked the other eyelet of the bow string over the top notch in the bows upper tip. He took his left leg out from between the bow itself and the now strung and taught bow string, then holding the bow offered it back to Nar’Allia. S
he took it; a slight redness in her cheeks for Lo’Rosse’s was smiling at her. But she held the bow in the correct way, she drew on it experimentally and found she could draw it fully with what seemed little effort, this made her wonder just how far this bow could actually fire an arrow, the draw felt weaker than her own, or seemed so, surely it would be useless. Her heart sank, she had changed her bow as if she knew what she was doing and now she was going to fail miserably, worse than if she had stuck with her own bow. But then something caught her attention as she was admiring the bow, she thought she saw a figure draped in white beyond, amongst the trees in the corner of her vision, a figure in chain mail armour, the hands set upon the pommels of two short swords hung each side of the waist, but when she turned her head that way to look, no figure could be seen.
But it was too late now. Minervar was nowhere to be seen, disappeared amongst the crowds of onlookers along with her short hunting bow and it was her turn to shoot. Nar’Allia selected an arrow from her own quiver that hung from a clasp around her belt and placed the nock in the bow string, she stretched out her arm and drew the bow, it seemed to sing to her again, she heard the repeated musical phrase in her mind, she aimed down the length of the arrow, sighting the red centre of the target, then she raised the bow to what she thought would be the right trajectory, but a sudden heavy weight on her arm made her lower it again. Slightly bemused she tried to raise the bow again, but again the pressure made her lower the bow. Thinking this strange she lowered the bow and released the pressure of the draw. She stretched her arms trying to relieve the tensions on her muscles. Again she drew upon the bow and took a line of sight down the length of the arrow shaft; once again she gauged the distance and raised the bow for the desired trajectory. As before there seemed to be a weight on her arm and she was forced to lower the bow slightly. She thought to herself, ‘this isn’t working, perhaps I had better ask for time to retrieve my own bow.’
But then she heard a voice, or at least thought she did, it seemed to be saying, “listen to the bow Nar’Allia, listen to its song, learn to trust in it for it is never wrong. Then a girlish giggle.” She lowered the bow again and looked around, no one was near enough to whisper into her ear, but she was sure she had distinctly heard a melodic voice, what’s more it sounded like a voice she had heard before. She looked at the bow, slightly amused. How silly to be hearing voices singing in silly prose.”
She heard her father next to her who had fired previously minutes before and struck a bull yet again, “Narny, are you alright?”
She looked at him and smiled, he was looking at her expectantly. So she drew once more, this time she did not try to raise the bow any higher than looking straight down the arrow shaft at the target that seemed so very far away. She listened. A sweet plain song of several notes seemed to be playing in her mind. The melody seemed to change as she moved the bow around the target, when she was looking along the length of the arrow pointing directly at the target centre, the song seemed sweet and melodious, she realised that if she purposefully moved off that mark the song became a little discordant almost like the strings on a harp or lyre whilst they are being strummed when tuned. So she listened for the sweetness of the song, she realised that she was letting the bow aim for her, levelling it where her arm found most comfort and the song was at its sweetest. But, there was little if no trajectory, she was sure this arrow was going to hit the grass well in front of the target, probably half way to it. She overcame her fear, thought in her mind, ‘ok I hope you know what you are doing,’ and released the bowstring anyway. The arrow shot from the bow, as she looked down its length she could see the shaft flexing from the force of the release. The arrow sped away. Any second now the arrow was going to lose momentum and speed and drop to the ground, any second now, any second now. But it flew on, she could see the bull in the centre of the target outlining the arrow shaft as it sped through the air. Then with a ‘thunk’ the arrow struck the bull right by the shaft her father had shot. It came to rest halfway through the thick straw backing of the target so that only the flights and nock were visible from the front side.
The crowd that was watching gasped, then as one they cheered and clapped. But Nar’Allia could not take her eyes from the arrow she had just shot. She found herself saying under her breath, “by the Maker.”
The crowd continued to cheer and clap loudly, Nar’Allia continued to look at the arrow halfway through the target. Surely it would have taken a bow with at least three or four times the draw weight of this one to get an arrow to penetrate that far into the target at this range and at such a low trajectory.
“By the Maker indeed,” it was Iolrreas who spoke, a look of wonder on his face as he looked from the target to his eldest daughter and back again. “An excellent shot Narny, an excellent shot indeed.”
Nar’Allia looked at the bow but this time in another way, such power, such accuracy and yet so easy to pull. The match continued and she went on to beat her father. He hugged her and said, “well shot my daughter, a worthy win if ever there was. He looked down at the bow in her hands and said, “you know, I tried that bow once, long ago when you were still a child, I took it hunting, I never found it that good, in fact I couldn’t get along with it at all, it was almost as if it didn’t want me to use it, as if it purposefully missed all my targets.” He smiled and laughed a little as he held her in his arms and said, “perhaps it likes you better eh?”
So it was that Nar’Allia went on to face Lo’Rosse in the final shoot. The target was moved back several times and no clear winner emerged. It seemed that Nar’Allia and the black bow could do no wrong and every shot was matched by the skill of Lo’Rosse.
When they rested waiting for the target to be moved yet again, Nar’Allia lent on the black bow, she had one end resting upon the toe of her boot. She was feeling very confident, she leant slightly towards Lo’Rosse and said with a smile, “it seems that you are determined to have that dance.”
Lo’Rosse just smiled and winked his eye, “well my lady, you are shooting well today, I am wondering if I may not need my dancing shoes after all,” he laughed and strode over to the firing line and took his shot, another bull to his credit. To do so he had to mark the trajectory of his arrow by raising his bow at a high angle into the air, Nar’Allia knew that the competition range was approaching the maximum Lo’Rosse’s bow could manage. Nar’Allia could tell he was starting to struggle, the trajectories he was now being forced to use were high and his arrows were losing power before hitting the target, coupled with the need to counter the breeze that was blowing. The last arrow he had loosed barely entered the straw target sufficiently to make it stay there and it had dropped down at a sloping angle as if it was hanging in the straw by the merest amount.
Yet she was still shooting almost horizontally and her arrows were piercing right through the dense straw of the target and through to the other side, on one occasion the arrow did indeed pass right through and imbedded itself into the ground beyond the target. So Nar’Allia decided to do a little experiment. She took her place in front of the target which by now was a distant spot amongst the trees on the edge of the village, the assembled crowd went quiet, she notched an arrow and took aim as before. She looked at the centre of the bull and listened to the bow sing in her mind until she knew that she, or the bow, was on target. Then she willed the bow to miss. But to her great surprise the arrow shot straight into the bull, the bow had ignored her order and had kept on target. “So you refuse to miss even if I command it, have it your way then.”
The target was moved once more. Lo’Rosse took his next shot; Nar’Allia knew that the increased range meant that he was unlikely to hit the bull unless there was a favourable following wind to give his arrow a helping hand, but the wind was coming at right angles across the field. He took careful aim and sure enough his arrow hit halfway between the bull and the lower edge of the target. Even then after hanging there for a short time it fell out and now lay upon the grassy bank onto which the targe
t had been placed. A groan went up from the crowd. Lo’Rosse sighed; he knew that the maximum range possible with his bow had been reached. He had a disappointed look upon his face as he said, “milady, it seems that you can best all of us here today.” He made a sweeping movement with his arm and bowed low.”
So it came to Nar’Allia’s shot. She aimed at the bull, the bow sang its sweet song, the trajectory was far lower than Lo’Rosse was forced to take. Nar’Allia knew that this bow could easily hit the bull even at this distance. But she knew what she was going to do. She took her eyes from the bull and chose a spot on the ground well in front of the target and concentrated there. Sure enough the bows song made her compensate and the new target on the ground, her chosen target was in view. She drew for what she knew would be the final time that afternoon and loosed the arrow; it sped to that spot several metres in front of the target, the arrow hit the ground exploding grass and earth into the air in front of it. Another loud groan of disappointment went up from the crowd, followed by loud clapping and cheering for Lo’Rosse. He was engulfed in people all of whom wanted to shake his hand or clap him on the back. Nar’Allia smiling saluted him as he was dragged away towards the ale barrels. Nar’Allia went to fetch her arrows. She was alone as she gathered from around the target and beyond, but eventually Lo’Rosse was able to make his way over to where Nar’Allia stood, she still stared at the flights of her final arrow sticking up out of the earth. He smiled wryly at her and leaning close to her ear so no one else should hear he said, “you missed that on purpose.”
Nar’Allia shot a look of indignation towards him and said, “I most certainly did not. You were the better shot after all.”
He frowned at her, but let the argument go at that, so saying, “ok I win. But only just.” Then offering Nar’Allia his outstretched hand, “well as I am the winner, I fully intend to collect the offered prize. Come milady by your own design, you owe me a dance.”
Iolrreas stepped forward and took charge of both their bows as Nar’Allia smiled and took Lo’Rosse’s hand and he led her back to a table were ale was being served and requesting two tankards gave one to Nar’Allia, they sipped on the refreshing dark bitter ale while the area that had been used for archery was turned into a small area for dancing.
After the first drink Nar’Allia said, “I must go and freshen up a little if you are going to dance with me.” Lo’Rosse stood and bowed. She headed off in the direction of her home, but stopped. She turned on her heel and went to where Iolrreas stood chatting with some other men. After retrieving the black long bow from her father she headed back in the direction of the family home.
As she walked she wondered if giving the competition to Lo’Rosse was the right thing to do. She didn’t really understand why she had done so. Perhaps she didn’t want to show off. She knew what this bow she held was capable of doing, now she understood a little more about it, she found that she wanted to keep it close. She looked at the bow in her hand, wondered at what she really held. Yes, it was a rather old and ornate T’Iea war bow, a work of art in its own right. But she couldn’t help feeling there was something more to it, something to discover, to learn, she vowed that she would make this bow her own, she laughed inwardly as she was reminded of her father’s words and thought to herself ‘well it seems to like me after all’. She heard footsteps following behind her, she turned it was Thorandill running to catch up with her.
“Wow Narny that was excellent shooting, you have improved since I last went hunting with you.”
She smiled at her younger brother and remembering the conversation earlier that day said, “well now you see the point eh? Some girls can shoot and fight as well as any male.”
“But not as well as Lo’Rosse it seems?”
Nar’Allia took a sideways glance at Thorandill but turned her gaze as soon as he looked towards her.
He frowned at her. “You purposely missed that final shot Narny, why?
“I did not such thing, you are mistaken. He proved the stronger in the end is all.”
Thorandill looked from Nar’Allia to the black bow and back again, “hmmph, whatever you say sister, but I still think you purposely shot low. Keep your secrets and your reasons if you wish, but just know that you can’t fool me.”
They arrived at the front door of the house and stopped. Thor was about to reach for the latch when Nar’Allia stayed his hand. She placed her finger in front of her lips demanding silence; she leant forward closer to the door. Two female voices could be plainly heard talking inside, Nar’Allia recognised the voice of Minervar, but the other she could not place, at least not from this village. So quietly opening the door and going in through the kitchen she gently moved Thorandill behind her and slowly made her way to the parlour door. She could see Minervar talking to someone she was glancing down at an angle whilst talking so this other was obviously sitting down. Thorandill asked who it was that had come into the house. Minervar obviously heard him for she turned her head and smiling looked at Nar’Allia. She beckoned for both of them to enter the room.
As they came through the doorway, Minervar said, “hello Narny, so how did you fare at the tournament eh?”
Nar’Allia stared into the room. “I came second, only Lo’Rosse was able to beat me.” She was addressing her mother, but was staring at the other person in the room sitting down in one of the armchairs.
This other person indicated with her eyes toward the black bow that Nar’Allia held and said, “really? That does surprise me young lady. I’m sure you didn’t come second unless by your own design. I know that weapon you hold, it is a unique thing, a fine weapon from an age gone by. I also know there is not an archer in this land with the necessary skills that could win over that long bow and I refuse to be told any different.”
Nar’Allia blushed slightly as she heard a soft laugh from Thorandill. But her attention remained upon the stranger in the room. The speaker was T’Iea, but this T’Iea looked so old, she looked ancient, still the beauty of her people glinted in her features, but her hands were discoloured and her face was lined, she held a long wooden walking staff against her knees. But the most striking feature of this T’Iea woman was her eyes. They had no pupils, at least her pupils were hidden for her eyes were a vivid blue in blue colour, piercing in a way that was not discomforting as such, just really strange. Nar’Allia couldn’t help but be held fast by that gaze, even when Minervar spoke.
“Nar’Allia and Thorandill I’d like you to meet an old friend, a very old and trusted friend. My children this is the lady Solin De’Teinde.”
Thorandill gasped and bowed low. Nar’Allia continued to stare at the elder T’Iea, who smiling nodded her response to the introduction.