by Jacky Gray
‘What? You mean she’s seen me naked?’
‘Not quite. I’m afraid there’s a lot of people in this village have seen you half naked now. I think she’s the only girl though.’
‘Great. Do you have any more guilt for me?’
‘No. Except she’s been here every day and spent every minute of her free time in the woods.’ Fletch piled it on thickly.
‘Searching for the herbs and fungi Ganieda needs to make you better.’
‘Is that it?’
Finn nodded. ‘And you repay her for all this by calling her what?’
‘A treacherous bit –’ The words tasted bitter in Archer’s mouth and he again swallowed the last few letters.
Both boys gasped. ‘No.’
‘Poor girl, no wonder she was crying.’ Finn shook his head.
‘Probably scarred for life. Mentally I mean.’
Archer raised his eyes to the sky. ‘That’s it, make me feel worse.’
They were happy to oblige. ‘Well, there’s how she got into trouble with her parents for being out at night.’
‘Or how she nearly got expelled from lehren.’
‘Or how Edlyn threatened her if she told anyone.’
Archer sat up so fast he pulled a muscle in his neck and felt a twinge of pain. ‘No way. I’ll kill him.’
‘Easy, Tiger. We lied about the last three. Kind of.’
‘It was actually us telling Edlyn what would happen if he came near any of us ever again.’
‘Ouch. Brat.’ Archer rubbed his neck. ‘Thanks mate.’ He held out a hand and they gripped it in turn.
The good thing to come out of the night’s extraordinary events was their friendship; the three were inseparable after that. Tybalt joined them occasionally, but his parents were strict and didn’t like him mixing outside his clan.
Beorn made a gruff apology and kept out of everyone’s way. His mother, however, was ambitious. She encouraged his alliance with the allegedly important Magi boys.
Despite the urging of his new best friends, Archer refused to make any part of the affair public knowledge and regardless of their personal feelings, Ganieda and Sedge agreed to let the matter drop.
For a while, Edlyn acted scared, never knowing if anything would be said. He lived in fear, running across the street to avoid being near Archer or any of his friends. When nothing happened, he soon returned to his arrogant ways, picking on younger targets. Several other juniors made an effort to be civil to Archer and he became generally accepted, particularly by the Outils. Fletch was a popular character who drew a lot of loyalty among his peers.
It took a long time before Patricia could bear to look at Archer again, he rarely saw her at lehren as the Warrior and Magi clans mostly had separate lessons. He tried sending notes to her house, but they were returned unopened. In the end, he knocked on her door to present her with a bowl he had turned himself from a beautiful piece of yew. He’d carved her name on the front and filled it with a blend of aromatic herbs and spices he knew she would like.
Archer insisted on waiting until he could put it in her hands so if it were returned he would know she definitely wanted to break the friendship. She didn’t return it, and at the Samhain festival she presented him with a beautifully crafted corn doll which must have taken her weeks to create. It was a warrior, complete with sword, buckler and a tiny yew bow.
9 Worthies
The chanting of Patricia’s name brought him back to the present. He had missed the Warrior girls’ race and he was just in time to see Patricia beat Adelisa by a narrow margin, with Rhianna coming in third. The last race started almost immediately and he watched as Bethia and Chrisya swapped the lead positions, with Dervla trailing behind after misjudging a hurdle. Bethia had a slight lead going into the net, but Chrisya had a better technique, slithering backwards along the grass with her arm scooping the netting up off her body and her legs propelling her body along powerfully. She was first onto the balance bar, but nerves got the better of her and she wobbled and fell off, going back to start it again, by which time Bethia had caught her up. They reached the last obstacle together, grabbed the long ropes and swung over the mud pit to touch the other side at the same time. Chrisya stumbled as she landed and her back foot went into the sludge. She slipped on the final sprint and Bethia just beat her to the finishing line. Archer joined in the well-deserved applause; it had been an exciting race between two evenly-matched contestants.
It would take some time to clear away the obstacle equipment and set up the archery ranges, so the proceedings took a brief break while the Worthies donned their costumes and the audience trooped across to the refreshment pavilion for a glass of ale, wine or fruit juice. Archer commiserated with Chrisya for a hard fought race, then congratulated Patricia, Bethia and Kayleigh on their wins.
In the boy’s dressing tent, Finn made an impressive King Arthur and Fletch was resplendent as Richard the Lionheart. Archer didn’t recognise Tybalt’s monk, complete with a realistic tonsure. Even when he waved a huge book entitled Historia Regum Britanniae as a clue, Archer was none the wiser. ‘Nope, I remember it, but I can’t think of the name.’
‘Geoffrey of Monmouth.’
‘Right. Of course.’
‘Archer. You need to get changed. Now.’ Professor Niall looked uncharacteristically harassed.
‘Yes Sir.’
No expense had been spared on the costumes – Melvyn resembled a sultan; Archer felt sure he’d gone for Saladin or Kublai Khan. He lifted an eyebrow when Finn asked in a low voice full of irony, ‘What do you think of Marco Polo over there,’ nodding at Melvyn’s richly embroidered costume.
‘Poor old Edlyn’s fuming – thought he would be the King of the Castle as Julius Caesar.’ Fletch had a wicked tongue and they grinned at the simple toga.
‘He’s not got a bad figure in a dress. I could almost fancy him myself.’ Finn blew a kiss at him, receiving a rude gesture in return.
Fletch added in a low voice, ‘But his mother was not going to be outdone; she’s sewn real gold into the edgings.’
As Archer laughed at their banter, Niall said in annoyance, ‘I thought I told you to get ready.’
‘I am.’ Archer glanced down at his green tunic and hose in dismay, then caught the professor’s grin.
‘Who’re you supposed to be?’ Archer flourished the bow. ‘I get it, William Tell.’
Archer smiled, he knew a tease when he heard it and didn’t rise to the bait. He was dreading this bit of the proceedings, along with everyone else. All except Edlyn; he liked nothing better than having people staring at him. It was, however, a tradition. Everyone in the village and neighbouring hamlets had turned out for the spectacle. Beltane marked the high point of the year.
This would be the last time for them to have any fun; there were nothing but trials for the next month. The one good thing was that the eighteen students chosen to be Worthies didn’t have to do some of the trials. For every round they were successful in, they received a diploma attesting their proficiency, which counted toward their graduation portfolio.
‘Come on Robin, we’re on.’ Finn clapped him on the back with his sword, a huge, ornate replica of Excalibur.
‘Don’t forget your quiver.’ Fletch handed him the old-fashioned, basic drawstring pouch, nothing like the modern versions with their reinforced leather body.
‘Thanks mate. Hold on, your surcoat’s not straight.’ He adjusted the gleaming white robe until the horizontal bar of the blood-red cross aligned perfectly with his belt. The three of them strode out into the May sunshine sparkling like heroes from a distant past.
Sophia, the head professor, looked harassed as she organised the eighteen Worthies into pairs according to their current points total. Finn stood in front with Kayleigh. She looked every inch a warrior, with flaming hair streaming over her shoulders as she casually held a sword almost as big as Finn’s, but much less ornate. Archer came next, pleased to be standing next to Patricia, looking very regal a
s some kind of twelfth century queen. Behind him were Fletch and Aife. She too was a warrior, from several centuries later; her clothing looked more modern. Edlyn stood way down the line with a sour expression on his face.
A hush fell over the crowd as Malduc took his place on the main dais. ‘My friends, we are honoured this year to have so many fine young men and women. Not only these Worthies, but all the juniors who will be graduating at Midsummer. Let us show our appreciation for their hard work.’
The applause lasted for several minutes as each of the potential graduates took their place on the grass just below the platform. The thirty-five juniors each wore a green baldric, embroidered with badges of honour for their achievements in their years at lehren. As the last one took his place, Malduc addressed them directly. ‘You have the hardest task of all, for it is up to you to decide which of these Worthies is closest to their chosen hero.’
He paused to ensure they were all listening closely. ‘You may have your own image of King Arthur or Boudicca. You may think, for example, that Adelisa resembles exactly your image of Cleopatra. This is not, however, a look-alike contest, nor is it about who has the best costume. Please remember you are not voting for your best friend or your favourite character.’
He pointed over at the increasingly nervous Worthies. ‘This is about who has worked hardest to portray their Worthy as faithfully as possible in words and deeds. It is also about who knows the most about their hero so they can answer any questions you may have.’ He paused to highlight the importance. ‘You should vote for the junior who really makes you believe you are talking to their Worthy. They should take on the character of their hero and remain as such at all times throughout the morning.’
‘He’s not asking much.’ Finn whispered between clenched teeth.
Malduc glared at him. ‘That’s exactly what you should not be seeing. King Arthur, for I’m sure Finnegan is meant to be King Arthur, would not be whispering to his men. If he had something worth saying, King Arthur would proclaim it loudly. He is, after all, a king.’
Finn stepped forward boldly. ‘Wise elder Malduc, permit me to apologise for the unfortunate lapse of concentration. I trust you have not been so offended you cannot forgive the poor manners on my part.’ He flourished his sword and gave a slight bow, as befitted a king paying homage to an elder.
Malduc clapped his hands in tribute, bowing deeply. ‘Excellent recovery. No offence was taken my Lord.’
Finn returned to his place, trying to portray a haughty king instead of a naughty junior as Malduc turned to the audience. ‘So after that perfect demonstration of what you should be looking for,’ he inclined his head towards Finn, ‘with no further ado, I present, your Worthies.’ He extended a hand to the group and they instantly took up the pose of their chosen hero.
They had practised this part a couple of times during the special training sessions – they were each supposed to introduce their partner and say one thing about them. As there was no certainty about who they would be paired with, it meant they all had to research one fact about each of the nine Worthies with whom they could be paired. The Worthy then had to demonstrate their characters’ biggest achievement. Each Worthy was supposed to spend no less than one minute and no more than three.
Finn held Kayleigh’s hand in a courtly manner and led her to the front of the stage. Covering the deep breath required to settle his nerves with a bow, he announced, ‘I was married to the fairest lady of the land, Guinevere. But her beauty pales beside your first Worthy. May I present to you the most famous warrior Queen of England, Boudicca.’ He stepped aside and Kayleigh gave a gesture somewhere between a bow and a curtsy, bobbing her head with one knee slightly bent.
She was obviously nervous at being the first to speak, but she straightened her spine, as befitted a great queen. ‘Thank you Lord Arthur, you have been most gracious.’ After acknowledging him, she walked across the front of the platform, tossing back her fur-lined cloak to reveal a large gold necklace. She stamped her spear on the ground. ‘But I will have to correct you. I was Queen of the Iceni, a tribe from East Anglia.’ She pointed her sword at the juniors with such force that one or two of them flinched. ‘If it wasn’t for me, you would all still be slaves to the Romans.’
She pointed the blade at Edlyn, who gave a royal wave. ‘My daughters and I rode in a chariot with blades on the wheels. We cut them down and forced them out of Colchester and out of England. If men want to live in slavery, that is their choice. I would rather die than submit to Roman rule. And die for England is exactly what I did.’
With another small bow, she turned to Finn and proclaimed in a loud voice, ‘Ladies, gents and children, I would like to present Arthur, King of the Britons in the sixth century.’
Finn bowed deeply. ‘My good queen, esteemed Worthies, ladies, gents and children, I am deeply honoured to stand before you today. I would be prouder still if you could know the peace my reign brought to a troubled England. After pulling my fabled sword Excalibur out of the stone where the wise Magician Merlin had cast it,’ he mimed the act, flourishing the great sword for all to see, ‘I brought together the strongest knights of the lands at my beautiful castle, Camelot.’
He used the sword to outline a large circle. ‘To demonstrate how every knight including myself was equal, we held our meetings at a huge round table, so no one sat at the head.’ He mimed a sword fight to accompany his next words. ‘I could tell you tales of their courage, slaying monsters and searching for holy relics, but then there would be no time for anyone else.’ He escorted Kayleigh to the other side of the platform with applause and cheers ringing in their ears. ‘Follow that,’ thought Archer to himself as he took Patricia’s arm.
10 Robin Hood and Friends
‘Fellow Worthies, ladies, gents and the most important citizens of merrie England, the children. It gives me great honour to present the loveliest thing to come out of France in the twelfth century, Eleanor of Aquitaine. Enchanté madame.’ He bowed over her hand in the most courtly manner possible with a six-foot bow strung over his shoulder.
‘Merci monsieur, vous êtes très gentil.’ She gave a small curtsy, then turned to the crowd. ‘I’ll let you into a secret. I had a huge crush on King Arthur when I was girl.’ She glanced over at Finn, who blew her a kiss. ‘I loved the idea of a hero, so when I married King Louis I went on the Crusade with him. It didn’t work out, so I married Duke Henry and came to England to be your queen. You probably know my son better than me, that’s him over there in the big red cross.’
She waved at Fletch, who saluted back. ‘A chip off the old block, but a son you could be proud of, not like his little brother John. Anyway, I created a rather grand affair back in Poitiers. A court full of knights and their ladies with lots of chivalrous deeds and romance. I’m sure we’d have welcomed this daring young man.’
She gestured at Archer who bowed deeply. Then she concluded, ‘Some might have called him a villain and a thief. I’ll let you make your own mind up about that. Please give a big welcome to one of Britain’s most famous outlaws, Robin of Loxley, better known as Robin Hood.’
Archer’s mind went blank as he walked past her, and he desperately tried to remember his opening line. Inspiration came as he saw a target being carried to the range, passing behind the crowd. It was easily within range and he gave her a cheeky little kiss on the hand, then walked to the front of the platform, unhooking his bow as he went. Before anyone realised he was really going to do it, he’d pointed, aimed and loosed the arrow, which flew above the heads of the crowd and pierced the target through the centre. Holding up the ring he’d taken from Patricia he made a show of trying to decide which of the others on the platform were poor enough to give it to.
In the end he settled on Tybalt’s character, then hurried back to front, stopping to pledge fealty to Fletch each time he passed him. ‘I am a man of action, not fancy words, but I promise that every penny I took from a rich person always helped the poor. This young lady,’ he walked ac
ross to give Chrisya a squeeze, ‘was my partner in crime, and my king here gave me a full pardon.’
He returned to the front with an aside for the audience. ‘I don’t think I’m stealing too much thunder if I say he wouldn’t have got where he did without my help. I did have a bit of help from my men. They were known as merrie; I think they spent too much time swilling Friar Tuck’s ale. There were a couple of nasty characters; you could boo and hiss loudly.’ Gesturing to the crowd with both hands, he got a satisfying response as he said the names. ‘Sherriff of Nottingham. Guy of Gisbourne.’ He bowed deeply and collected Patricia, leading her off to stand with Finn and Kayleigh.
His heart thumped so loudly in his chest he was sure everyone else could hear it. He was breathing heavier than he had after the sword fight or even the joust. It took almost all of Aife’s description of her Scottish warrior, Black Agnes, for him to calm down. He finally tuned in as she told the tale of the defence of her husband’s castle against the Earl of Salisbury.
‘Well he’d tried, bless him, with his catapults, but it barely made a scratch. I told the maids to put on their best clothes, take out their handkerchiefs and dust away the damage. He was a wee bit miffed, and tried tickling the door with his battering ram.’ She sighed and shook her head at the futility of this gesture.
‘I got my boys to drop one of the rocks he’d thrown earlier. Smashed his little toy to pieces, he was not best pleased. Finally, he realised he would not get the better of the kin of Robert the Bruce – hi hinny,’ she turned and Machin raised a hand. ‘Enough about me. I would like to introduce you to one of my personal heroes, a man who can’t get enough of foreign food, Richard the Lionheart.’
Fletch bowed to her then went over to Patricia and bowed over her hand. ‘Mother, how good of you to throw me a party. All my friends are here. Robin, I’m still not happy you didn’t invite me to your wedding. And there’s your blushing bride. Hello my dear.’ He kissed Chrisya’s hand, then pretended to spot Tybalt. ‘Well bless my soul. As I live and breathe, it’s Geoffrey. Is that your latest manuscript? I do hope you’ve got some of my tales in there.’ He addressed the audience. ‘I could tell you all about Saladin,’ he glanced around and beckoned them closer as he lowered his voice in a conspiratorial tone. ‘He’s nothing like as bad as they make out; gave me a fine Arabian steed when mine was killed in battle.’