by Smith, Skye
"Wonderful, we can borrow their best ideas for the next village. Which contests do you think we should enter?"
John pulled himself into the cart and squeezed Gwyn between he and Raynar. He gave her a kiss on the forehead as a hello. She wrapped both her arms around the giants arm, and pulled herself away from Raynar so that he would have room to drive.
"I was thinking of the distance contest for me. With my big bow, I will be the one to beat. And you should enter the one for speed. Since your Byzantine bow is designed for horseback, it lets you load and loose faster than an English bow, because the draw is shorter. The wand contest and the moving contest need skill and luck. The bird hunters will dominate those."
"And the price?" asked Raynar.
"Entry is sixpence for the qualifying, and then two shillings for each real match."
"And the prize?"
"A third for the best, and a third shared between the next two." replied John.
"Well that is the first thing we have learned for our next village." said Gwyn.
They stopped talking as a squad of Normans rode by.
"Oh and I forgot to tell you. The Normans are here," John announced.
Gwyn stared openly. "Raynar, you always describe them as the devil's spawn. They don't look like devils to me. They are quite attractive, and well dressed. I love the colored cloaks."
"Are they here for the widows?" Raynar coughed out.
"No, they are here for the churchmen. This little town is big on the church map. It has a bishop. The new Norman bishop has just arrived. Those were some of his men," John told them.
"Let me guess. The Diocese controls a lot of land."
"It would appear so," John replied.
They passed a priest dressed all in black, and with matching black eyes and hair. He stared back at them. Especially at Gwyn.
"They always remind me of crows," Gwyn observed.
"That is because they prey on the nearly dead and the kin of the newly dead," said John. John's father still preyed to Thor, as all smiths did. "Well, that explains the other prizes." They both looked at him expectantly. "Gold crosses on a gold chain for the winners, silver for the next best. The new bishop must have supplied them."
The fete was huge, as was the market attached to it. They paid a fee to set up a market stall and slipped some extra coppers to the clerk to have a spot close by the archery range. It was a waste of a good bribe, because their stall was in the bowyer section, which was exactly where they would have been sent even without the bribe.
Gwyn set off to explore while Raynar and John set up their stall. Their stall was just the cart with some extra tables made from staves lashed together with sacking stretched between. In his mind John already had the design for a cart with sides that flipped down to form display tables.
Gwyn came hurrying back and grabbed a skin of ale and her medicine sack, and was gone again.
Raynar and John looked at each other, and Raynar volunteered to follow her. He tracked her towards the center of the town. He caught up just as she was bending over the town's pillory. He stopped and looked around to see if there would be trouble, but everyone watching seemed to be calm. Gwyn was doing what Gwyn did. A man had been whipped and beaten in the stocks and Gwyn was cleaning his wounds with ale and applying salve and linen. The crowd was watching her gentle hands care for the raw back.
"What is he in for," he asked the man beside him.
"Started a fight at the richest alehouse in town, don't ya know. Near tore the place down."
"Why?"
"Said the alehouse owner was light in his measure. Always light in his measure."
"Why isn't anyone throwing offal at him?" he asked.
"Cause he was right, everyone knows they serve light measure at that house."
"So who gave him the beating, then, if he was being truthful?"
"The bailiff beat him, but he was told to do so by the priest. The priest is the town's officer of weights and measures. Well he did sort of call the priest a cheat didn't he?"
"I miss your logic," he said.
"Oh, didn't I mention. The priest owns the alehouse."
The priest walked up and talked to a guard and pointed at Gwyn. The guard moved towards Gwyn, just as she turned away from the stocks, for she had finished her tending. The man in the stocks shouted a thank you and a bless you after her, and she blew him a kiss. The crowd applauded her.
They walked back to the cart together, but all the way Raynar had the feeling that someone was following them. When they reached the cart, Raynar mentioned this to John, and John stretched to his full height to see over everyone's heads and spotted a Norman style guard. The guard disappeared into the crowd very quickly, very very quickly, as the giant approached him.
* * * * *
John made it through to the finals of the range match with his first arrow. Raynar made it through on his first try also. He fired six arrows in the space of the official's thirty count and every one of them hit the target. Now they had nothing to do for the rest of the day but demonstrate their bows and arrows, and talk to the other bowyers. Raynar was immediately popular with the other bowyers because he promised each a present of a Ywen bow if they came and watched John's demonstrations.
Gwyn, on the other hand, was not popular, because women did not tend to come to the bowyers section of the market. She went walk about and returned to say that she had found the place where herbs were being sold. Within moments she had bundled her wares into two cloaks and had Raynar carry them to the other side of the market.
Once she found her spot, he tried to help her spread the cloaks out between two women with similar herbs, but she waved him away. This was a woman’s area, and he was not a woman, she explained, and then was quickly lost to him, and in conversation with the women beside her.
He did walk by her spot a few times during the day. She always seemed to be in private huddles with other women. The women beside her were just selling herbs, whereas Gwyn was passing along knowledge. Her piles of herbs were disappearing quickly.
There were few men browsing in this area unless they were with women. He saw the crow priest again and he seemed to be watching Gwyn. Casually, he shuffled along to stand nearer to the priest, but as he approached, the priest moved away into the crowd.
That night they slept underneath the cart. It was normal for merchants to sleep in their stalls. It saved packing up for the night. Most had known each other for years, though they may only see each other a few times a year, usually at a big fete such as Southwell's. Since merchants could not stray far from their stalls, they would spend the evenings in the company of other merchants. There were tales and laughter, and much music from drums and flutes, and singing, including Gwyn's wonderful voice.
* * * * *
The next day, the first match of the day was for distance, because it was the easiest to run and judge. Gwyn went with John to watch while Raynar stayed with the cart. They came back two hours later, walking arm in arm and smiling.
"How did you do?" asked Raynar. They said nothing, but Gwyn held something out from her neck for him to see. At first he though she was showing him the crystal that she always wore there. As healers, they both wore crystals around their necks. Instead, it was a tiny gold cross hung from a fine gold chain. She was elated. It was the first gold she had ever touched, and John had given it to her.
"How much was the purse?" asked Raynar.
"Twenty four shillings."
It was a fortune, worth a flock of sheep. "Was there any competition?"
"Anyone with one of our longbows. But none were as long as mine. Once I had bested the others in the match, I was asked to show the judges its maximum range. I hit a target at one hundred and fifty paces beyond where the contest ended. Almost five hundred paces. But you know it is not just my bow. It is my arrows with the slightly curled flights. They spin the arrow so that it stays true at range." Raynar held up his hand to stop the explanation. He had heard it many times before.<
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Raynar’s match wasn't until the afternoon. Gwyn did not set up her wares in the women’s area. She didn't have much left to sell, and besides, that black priest kept skulking around. Meanwhile John was selling a lot of points to men who had watched his match. By noon, everything was quiet again, so they paid a watcher, and in that way both John and Gwyn could attend the match and cheer for Raynar.
The speed match was very popular, and close to fifty archers had qualified. The judge announced the rules. Ten archers at a time would shoot as many arrows as they could before the count of thirty. Only arrows that hit the target were scored. Each archer would be allowed two tries. The ten highest combined counts would be in the final round. Although they lined up ten archers at a time, it still took two hours for all fifty to have two tries. Raynar made it to the final.
Later, as he stood there in a row with the other nine finalists, he took a good look at their bows. There were three other Byzantine bows like his. He looked up at the faces. Did he know these men? He asked the closest one "Have you seen Hereward lately?"
Three heads shot up in recognition of Hereward's name, and then they all recognized each other. The meet was delayed while the men clasped arms and made promises to meet for ale after the match. At an impatient yell from the judge, they lined up again ready to loose. The judge was explaining the rules yet again, when there came a woman's high pitched scream and a man's yell of panic from behind them.
Raynar turned and he could see John's head above the crowd. He had one arm stretched to the sky and in it's grip was a squirming guard. Raynar turned his bow and yelled for the crowd between him and John to duck. It took three yells before the crowd saw that he, a bowman, was aiming to shoot into the crowd and was yelling "down". Quickly they all squatted down and pulled the ones next to them down as well.
Now he could see what was happening. Two Norman guardsmen were holding Gwyn by her arms and she was struggling and screaming at them. Meanwhile a furious John was about leave go of the guard he was holding, to drop him head first into the dirt. Someone in the crowd yelled out, "It's the Norman priest!" and that news was repeated throughout the crowd.
The black eyed priest was in charge of the guardsmen and he came forward to stand in front of Gwyn. He was telling the crowd, "She is a witch, She is a witch" and then he saw her gold cross and he ripped it from her throat. "See this cross. This is blasphemy on a nonbeliever. See it."
Raynar had to do something to save the guards from John. He had seconds before all three guardsmen would come to a bad end. He loosed an arrow and it stuck in the dirt between the priests boots, and then he yelled "HALT" in his loudest voice, as he reloaded. The priest looked up and he was facing Raynar's next arrow.
The crowd stayed low and were looking from priest to archer. Raynar was thinking fast. "We are trying to have a contest here priest. Why do you disturb us?" While the priest was thinking of an answer, Raynar nodded to John and motioned with his arrow head, "YOU, put that man down," and immediately added, "down gently." John set the man down on his feet and brushed off the man's shoulder. Raynar straightened the aim back at the priest, "Now release the girl."
"I will not release her," yelled the priest. "She is a witch. I have a responsibility to hold her. I am protecting these folk from her."
One of the other archers yelled, "You have no authority here priest," and then to the crowd, "Call for the Lord of Misrule."
The Lord of Misrule was already on his way. He had been close by, sitting on his comic throne watching the contest. He was limping and obviously in pain as he walked through the crowd, and they made way for him. The Queen of the May followed him in the same gap in the crowd. He stopped just short of the priest and motioned to the guards to release Gwyn. "You, priest, you say this girl is a witch. How would you punish her?"
The priest raised his voice. "I mean to burn her. She is a witch. I will burn her." The crowd gasped. The priest was as close to death as Raynar’s next breath but the Lord of Misrule saw the danger and waved to him to hold his arrow.
The Lord limped closer to the girl and stooped to look in her face. "My head hurts, girl, caress it for me."
Gwyn looked at the face, a face in pain, and she ever so gently ran her hand down his cheek, and then took her other hand and closed his eyelids and rested her hand over them. The crowd went completely quiet while they looked closely in hopes of seeing some witchcraft.
Slowly the Lord of Misrule straightened to his full height and declared to the crowd, "Her touch is the touch of love. I declare her a false witch. She is a false witch." He raised his hands to the crowd to encourage a response, and they yelled back, "She is a false witch".
He continued, "And a false witch is the opposite of a witch, and that would make her a gift from the angels. The proof is in her touch. It is the touch of love, the touch of an angel." He raised his hands to the crowd to encourage a response, and they yelled back, "touch of an angel."
The Lord of Misrule turned to the priest and as he did so he seemed to grow in height. "You priest have accused a gift of the angels, and therefore you are a false priest." he raised his hands to the crowd and every one yelled back, "A false priest". The crowd was really starting to enjoy this. The priest not at all, and he was looking around nervously.
He pointed a finger at the priest. "A false priest is the opposite of a priest and so he must be a demon," and the entire crowd crossed themselves and yelled "Demon, Demon". The Lord of Misrule raised his hand for silence. "And the demon has already passed sentence on himself. Burn the demon." The crowd yelled "burn the demon" and some young men standing behind the priest grabbed him.
The priest squirmed away from their grasp and yelled to his guards. There were four guardsmen in all and they all drew their steel and moved closer to the priest.
"Hold" said one of the other archers down the line from Raynar. "Look over here priest. There are now five arrows pointed at five throats. We want no bloodshed to mar this match. Have your men sheath their swords. Now Priest."
The guardsmen took one looked in the direction of the archers, and at the shafts aimed at them, and sheathed their swords without waiting for the priest to command it. The archer continued, "Priest, you have been sentenced to burn by our Lord of Misrule. And by god we will burn you if you stay within the domain of Misrule. Leave the fete, priest, else the mob will have you."
The priest looked into the faces of the crowd and feared what he saw, especially from the women.
Before the priest could move Raynar yelled "Priest. Priest, you have stolen the girls cross. You will return it gently to her, else before your next breath, this arrow will severe your hand for theft." The priest looked at the tiny cross, and was ready to throw it at the girl until he heard the word "Gently" repeated. He put it softly into her open hand.
The Lord of Misrule spoke again. "Priest, only you must leave the fete. Order your men to stay here and enjoy themselves." The priest waved the guards away from him and hurried away to the church. The jeers at the retreating priest turned into cheers for the Lord of Misrule and to the power of the mob.
The lord kissed Gwyn's hand and the cross, and said quietly to her "a favour repaid". He was the man from the pillory. The Queen of the May came forward and took his arm and walked him back to the Fools throne. He had won more than one beautiful admirer that day.
Raynar turned to thank the other four archers, and instead found that all nine bows had been pointed at the priest. He saluted them and asked if they would be satisfied with shooting mere targets after taking sight on a Norman priest. The deadly tension was softened by snickers that turned to laughs and then to outrageous laughter that ran through the crowd.
The judge rang a chime and brought the match back to order. Raynar's mind was with Gwyn, not the contest, and he lost to the other Byzantine bows, but he did not mind. He had been reminded in the strongest way of what it felt like to be shoulder to shoulder with brothers of the arrow.
The story of the demon priest, t
he angel, and the archers swept through the fete. John led Gwyn back to the cart and the crowd parted to make way for the giant and the angel. They were called over to a stall by a jeweler, who kindly put a new clasp on her gold chain. Gwyn, however, was still shivering in fear from her close call with a witches fire, and John feared that the priest may send guards to snatch her away from the fair, so they spent the rest of the day together at the cart.
Raynar was very late coming back from the alehouse and crawling under the cart to his bedroll. The ale and the stories were still flowing at the tables of archers, but he could drink no more and barely made it under the cart before he fell asleep.
* * * * *
* * * * *
THE HOODSMAN - Hunting Kings by Skye Smith
Chapter 21 - Gregos and Tally Sticks, Holborn in August 1100
Raynar joined Gregos and Risto in a late breakfast. They were all in good humour. They were clean and fed and slept out. There was sunlight in the garden, shade in the portico, and a festive feel from the spirits of the other guests and members. There were men staying at the Inn from all over England and from all over Christendom.
Although Gregos enjoyed and sought out the company of the other travelers, his bodyguard, Risto, was very alert for any possible threats to his master. At his request, whenever they made plans they spoke in Greek to each other, as a security measure. "I do not trust our ambassador," Risto told them in Greek.
Raynar ate in silence, and therefore finished his food first, and then spoke in Greek. "Do you know the word 'oasis' from the Holy Land? This Domus is my oasis in London."
"I can understand that," Risto replied. "It is quiet and clean, and it feels like home to me, but then I am used to Mediterranean style houses built around courtyards and gardens."
"And it is quite secure," Raynar told him. "so you don't need to be so ill at ease while you are within the walls. The security is why our guests become members and rent their rooms by the year. They can leave anything in their rooms, and be assured that whatever the have left won't be touched while they are away. The other guests are often interesting men from many places in this kingdom and beyond. The company is good, the meals are good, the service is good. Calm yourself."