by Chris Ward
Once more they formed a line at fifty paces and Rema stood at the end with only Gravyn behind him. The deer target on four small wheels was pulled across the avenue once without any to fire, so that the nine might see what it was they were to shoot at. It was not a large deer and the red heart was small, almost a dot at the distance, prompting one competitor to groan and comment loudly,
‘My eyes are not that good. This is the last you will see of me my friends.’
‘I also,’ said another,’ I can hit the beast but the heart on the move is beyond me.’
‘What say you Gravyn?’ another asked of the champion.
The tall man shrugged without any emotion showing upon his face. ‘It is not a problem,’ was all he said.
The crowd started cheering the moment the deer was pulled across the avenue. Bets were laid and a wild enthusiasm filled the air. There was a loud and continual chant of Gravyn...Gravyn... which made Rema realise the man was a popular champion despite his lack of emotion. He watched the competitors in front of him fire their arrows. He tracked them through the air for each was far slower than his. This time he thought my speed will be of benefit for the breeze is taking the arrows a little against the movement of the deer. None of the arrows had hit the heart although one seemed to nick the top of it, and the arrow of the man who had complained about his eyesight fell too low and to the left.
‘Next!’ the official called, and Rema walked to the line.
He notched his arrow and waited for the deer to appear. He focused on the ropes which were to pull it across the gap ten paces wide. As soon as they became taught he drew his bow and waited. The deer appeared. He tracked it carefully and when the heart was mid-way across he loosed it. The distance was so short that it took but a single heart beat to cross the fifty paces to the deer. Rema tracked it by instinct, and saw it a little right and so bent it back against the travel of the deer. The arrow suddenly appeared in the deer’s heart; almost dead centre. It quivered and then fell still. The crowd erupted with enormous cheering, and all the competitors save Gravyn gave Rema a nod and a clap. They knew he was through to the final challenge.
Gravyn took his position and waited calmly. Rema was awed that the man showed no anxiety at all. That he was expected to win the title again seemed not to matter one bit. The deer appeared. The crowd fell silent; they knew their champion was last to fire. They waited. His arrow flew. It struck the deer in the heart; right on the edge, but in the red. Once more the crowd erupted. ‘Gravyn, Gravyn’ came the thunderous applause. Their champion was through. Money changed hands, and the crowd now waited eagerly for the final challenge.
The White Queen watched the archers line up and fail, one by one. She enjoyed the tournaments, and the skills. She found the excitement of her people reassuring in a time of deep and mysterious trouble in Revelyn. This tournament, the one hundredth, was a great achievement and she hoped perhaps another talent would emerge. Five times she had entertained the great Gravyn, who seemed unbeatable, and was a well deserved and popular champion, but his manner was so distant and his personality so bland that this year she did not look forward to it. She sat with Germayne and watched the arrows hit the target, or miss, and then heard the groans as those around lost bets or favourites from the competitors. She knew only Gravyn’s name from amongst them, and in the end it was the final challenge which always brought her to the edge of her seat. It was the truest test of the archer’s skill. What went before was fun, but now she took a new interest.
‘Who then Germayne is to match Gravyn in the final?’ She asked sipping a cool cordial. Her tall and beautiful friend shook her head.
‘I have no idea, My Lady, but let me inquire.’ Germayne stood and went to ask those who would know. A request from the Queen would be answered immediately. The White Queen stood and looked back down the avenue. She could see the familiar figure of the tall Gravyn. She smiled. You are indeed greatly skilled she thought, I just wish you were more interesting to be with. She noticed a figure standing by him, clearly the other archer for he still wore the yellow vest.
‘I wish you luck archer,’ she whispered, ‘beat Gravyn for me, I need better company tomorrow.’ As she looked, the figure moved, stretching and readying his bow. Something about his movements intrigued the Queen and she delayed, watching him some more. How strange, she thought, you stir in me a memory which I cannot recall. And then her friend returned.
‘My Lady, the man to match Gravyn is number one hundred and forty two.’ Germayne said teasing the Queen.
‘Thank you Germayne, perhaps a name would be more helpful than a number.’
‘He is stranger I am told,’ Germayne replied, ‘From the Highlands I believe.’
‘His name, Germayne,’ the queen demanded, but with a smile.
‘Rema Bowman, My Lady,’ said Germayne in compliance. ‘He is called Rema Bowman and he is a complete unknown.’
The White Queen nodded and feeling suddenly faint, sat to watch the final challenge, her heart pounding for reasons she thought no longer possible. A name. A memory. She shook her head and was grateful for her veil.
The official now spoke with Rema and Gravyn.
‘Well done my friends. Your skill has been noted by the Queen. Gravyn, once more you do Ramos proud. Rema Bowman, we have not had a Highlander compete before now. If you were to win the competition on this anniversary, it would be a great honour.’ He paused. ‘However only one can win.’ The rules are simple; you will fire two more arrows only. Gravyn, you have done this once before and the challenge remains the same. If you both look down the avenue you will see a woven basket right at the top of the pole which is thirty cubits high.’ Rema looked and saw for the first time that such a thing did now hang from the top of the pole. ‘The basket has no base so it surrounds the pole and when dropped will fall... guided by the pole. Your challenge with your first arrow will be to cut the rope which holds the basket thereby causing it to drop. Your second arrow is to halt its fall by pinning it to the pole. The winner will be the one who halts the basket’s fall in the shortest distance.’ The official allowed the rules to sink in. ‘Any questions?’ he asked. Both competitors shook their heads.
‘In the event that both of you fail,’ he continued, ‘fail to halt the basket before it reaches the ground we will allow another trial until there is a winner. You will draw lots to decide who will shoot first. I suggest you select your two arrows and then we will decide this matter.’ The official left to allow both Gravyn and Rema some time to prepare for this final challenge. The crowd was now at fever point. Gravyn was the favourite and much money now rested upon his success. It was now known that his challenger was from the Highlands and this only brought more support behind their Champion.
Rema selected two arrows and checked his bow string for any faults. Finding none he waited as Gravyn also selected his two arrows. The two then stood together and since the official had not returned were somewhat forced to recognise the other.
‘You have great skill Rema Bowman,’ said Gravyn with no more emotion than before. ‘I would not have thought such a bow was capable of what you have done, and your arrows are the strangest I have ever seen. I wish you luck my friend.’ His words were given with sincerity but Rema detected a supreme confidence that he could not lose; that he was the champion.
‘I thank you Gravyn. I have been well informed about your skills and indeed all reports have been true. I know my bow is strange but it is the best in Revelyn.’ At this point Gravyn shook his head although his face revealed nothing.
‘I think not Rema. My bow comes from the Highlands from the best bow maker in all Revelyn. I paid a goodly sum for it but it is the manner of its making which is the finest I know.’
Rema smiled, for he had seen something in those few moments which he knew might give him an edge in the final challenge. ‘You are right Gravyn; your bow was made by the best bow maker in Revelyn for I recognise it now. I made your bow Gravyn. My kindpa and I made your bow. It is the best
we ever made, but still it does not match this one I hold. I too wish you the best. And now we shall find out who will be the champion.’
Rema knew his words must have shaken the champion but still he showed no emotion. His face was like stone. He was unreadable and seemingly completely unperturbed by news which Rema had hoped might unnerve the man a little. He stretched once more and then stood and looked north down the avenue past the stands full of feverish spectators, to the target. He looked across at the royal stand and caught a sudden glimpse of the White Queen standing gazing down at them. We will meet soon enough white Queen, he thought, this will be my only chance and I will not let it slip.
‘Let us decide who will shoot first.’ The official returned and brusquely set about completing his last formal duty of the tournament. ‘Two straws gentlemen, the shortest will mean the first to shoot.’ He held them in his hand hiding their length as was the custom. Rema picked one and Gravyn took the other. ‘You first then Gravyn,’ said the official. ‘In your own time. Good luck.’
Rema took a few steps back and waited. He watched the champion prepare, and heard the noise of the crowd when they realised their man was first to shoot. Gravyn! Gravyn! Gravyn! came the calls, louder and louder... and then a hush as the tall man stepped up to shoot. Gravyn placed one arrow point first in the grass within easy reach and Rema knew this would save him valuable time rather than reaching to his quiver. The other arrow he notched and drew cleanly to his cheek. He drew breath and then calmed himself. Rema saw the great control he had for his bow was tall and vertical, unmoving as Gravyn sighted expertly. And then in a blur of movement the arrow was loosed. It sped truly to the mark, cutting the cord which held the woven basket high up on the pole. Whilst this arrow was still in flight Gravyn reached for the other arrow, notched it, drew, and then released, allowing for the fall of the basket, aiming ahead of it. Rema thought it was so very smooth and beautiful to watch. The basket had started to fall as the second arrow was drawn to the cheek. It fell under its own weight as the second arrow sped toward it, and then suddenly it was halted, pinned to the pole higher than a man above the ground. The crowd cheered like thunder, and even more money changed hands.
‘Five cubits at least,’ called someone and the cry was taken up...’Five cubits, Five cubits,’ and Rema knew that this was most likely an achievement which had never before been matched. He took a deep breath and planned his moves. He thought about the speed of his arrows and his ability to bend them, and in this he knew he had a great advantage. He stepped to the line even as the continued calls for Gravyn seemed to make the ground shake. The woven basket was now once more at the top of the pole waiting for his arrow. He too placed his second arrow point first in the grass and notched the other, drawing it almost to his cheek in one easy motion. He aimed at the cord which held up the basket, took a breath and then to the puzzlement of all who stood near him, he aimed it higher, well above its mark and loosed it gently but with still more than enough power to make the distance. Some keen-eyed ones in the crowd saw its flight and knew then that their money was safe with Gravyn. The new man had failed.
But Rema bent the arrow as he reached for his second. He notched this arrow and drew it quickly full to his cheek before the first had reached its mark. He did this without a thought; all focus was with his first arrow as he bent it truly down to cut the cord. As the basket started to fall already the second arrow was on its way and this one was far faster than any arrow Revelyn had ever known. It crossed the distance to its mark in less than a single heart beat, so fast the Rema hardly had time to bend it truly; but in the end he did, and to the utter amazement of the crowd the basket was suddenly pinned to the pole once more, but this time it had hardly fallen its own length and it seemed to many that both arrows arrived together. A mighty silence fell upon the throng. A silence in which the White Queen smiled beneath her veil.
‘Well done number one hundred and forty two,’ she murmured quietly. ‘Well done indeed. You have proved something this day.’ And then she stood and clapped and the crowd could not but follow her lead and soon the applause was almost as thunderous as that for Gravyn, for the realisation of what had been done became clearer with every moment.
‘Germayne,’ said the Queen, ‘make sure this Rema Bowman attends me tomorrow at noon. I will leave the arrangements to you.’
‘My Lady,’ replied Germayne with a small nod, and as the White Queen stepped down and into her carriage she went to do her bidding.
Rema did not expect it but Gravyn was most gracious in defeat.
‘You have outclassed me Rema Bowman. I cannot match you this day,’ he said without emotion, his face still carved from stone; but he offered his hand and they shook firmly, the two best archers in the land. Then Andes ran up and lifted Rema off the ground and hugged him with great excitement.
‘Well done Rema!’ he cried and then others who had competed came up and everyone wanted to shake his hand and offer a comment in praise for it had been unthinkable that any could outmatch the mighty Gravyn; and yet it had come to pass before their very eyes. And then a tall and beautiful woman arrived and all stood back for she was well known; the Queen’s favourite and a great power in Revelyn in her own right. Andes stood and stared, unable to hide the sudden strong feelings which suddenly seemed to overwhelm him; but she ignored them all and spoke directly to Rema.
‘The Queen sends her congratulations Rema Bowman. She requests that you attend her tomorrow at noon. Please come to the Palace entrance. Just follow the road north from this Square. I will meet you there and escort you to her majesty. My name is Germayne, and I too salute your achievement. Never have we seen such mastery of the bow.’ She offered her hand which Rema took and they shook firmly.
‘I will of course be most happy to attend upon the queen,’ he said. And so it was done, and then Rema found it took quite some time before he was able to leave the great crowd which thrust upon him and was most grateful to Andes who finally forced a way through, and so they escaped back to their Inn and to the safety of their humble room above the cobbled street.
Andes was happy for Rema to go alone to the white Palace to speak with the Queen. He would not admit it to his friend but the prospect of having to meet the woman called Germayne disturbed him greatly. He missed Fryn far more than he realised and his desire to stay true for her was something he held close to his heart. He was confused by the strength of attraction he felt for this new woman. It was so unexpected, so sudden and so very strong.
‘I am happy to visit the market again Rema,’ he said the following morning. ‘You go. Please give my respects to the Queen. I will look forward to your return and then perhaps we can leave; we can go back to the Highlands...’ his voice trailed off and he knew that Rema knew of his struggle.
‘I will be back as soon as I can Andes, but we have travelled a long way for this and I do not want to waste the opportunity.’ The two friends looked at each other.
‘Andes,’ whispered Rema quietly, gripping his friend’s arm. ‘It is not over. It is nowhere near over. You had better get used to it.’ Andes took a deep breath. He did not want to deal with such a reality. He just nodded.
‘Go Rema. You go now.’ And so they parted.
Rema walked with an eager anticipation. A few he passed recognised him from the previous day and he received a nod and a smile from most, but in the main he was still an unknown in a strange city, except that now he had managed to open the door to the Palace. He felt good.
He soon found himself back in the same official’s office by the second portcullis in the fort, with the same three he had dealings with previously. The official was very uncomfortable. The soldiers were surly.
‘I lost a week’s wages because of you,’ said one. The other sneered.
‘Really,’ Rema said with the biggest smile he could muster. ‘You bet against me?’
‘Of course we bet against you,’ the two soldiers said in unison. ‘No one can beat Gravyn.’
‘
Well I did,’ said Rema. ‘And Gravyn himself shook my hand. He had no hard feelings.’
‘He didn’t lose his money,’ came the reply.
At that moment Germayne entered the office; the official and the two soldiers sprang to their feet. She ignored them.
‘Rema Bowman, welcome. The Queen is eagerly waiting to speak with you.’ She paused. ‘I see you are alone. Your friend did not wish to come?’ Rema suddenly wanted to answer in the manner best for all, but was at a loss as to what to say. He paused for a moment.
‘We both thought the audience was for me alone.’ he said finally.
Germayne nodded. ‘Well another time then. Please follow me.’ They passed through the fort and into the Palace. Everyone they passed bowed slightly to Germayne and smiled a welcome to Rema. He was soon lost within the corridors and halls, but they climbed continually until at last they came to large room with wide and ornate windows looking out over the city. Rema could see the Luminous River below, and the land far to the south. Germayne asked him to wait there as she went to inform the Queen of his arrival. Suddenly Rema felt nervous.
I have never done this sort of thing before, he thought. I have no idea what to say or how to say it. He shook his head. I did not think this part through very well. He stood for a time then looking out over the land. The view was capativating. Never had he seen such a city and now from this vantage point it took on new dimensions. Below him was the market in the Square, full of tiny ant like people milling about...and then the River; it had broken its banks to the south and now formed a large lake which had eaten up a vast area...