by Jacky Gray
Other couples were springing up from behind bushes asking about the commotion and Fletch explained while Archer ran back. This time, he locked his thoughts securely away in the quiet room and concentrated his efforts on pumping his legs as fast as they would go. It was harder; carrying so much water in his clothes, but it was barely a mile and took five minutes to cover.
He could smell the terrible stench of burning hair as he picked up a long fire staff. Hearing Edlyn’s screams, he dived into the flames toward the sound without a second thought, using the staff to clear a path. The moisture in his clothes gave him some protection against the heat and he grabbed the boy just as he collapsed. Carrying him out of harm’s way, he stumbled. As they hit the floor, he smothered the flames with his body. They were all extinguished as Fletch arrived.
‘Quick take off your tabard and breeches. Just do it.’ He had no time or energy to explain how all the moisture had been sucked out of his own clothes or that they needed to cool him off as much as possible. He tore at the smouldering remains of Edlyn’s clothing, which were still burning his flesh. They wrapped him in Fletch’s wet clothes which began to steam. ‘We need to get him back to the stream. If only Finn were here, I could do with another pair of strong arms, mine feel like jelly.’
Finn appeared as though summoned by magic, threw the boy over his shoulder and started running to the stream. ‘Go with him Fletch, he needs a thorough dunking. Hold every part of him under the water for ten minutes at least.’
Other people began to turn up, mostly fathers and a couple of seniors, asking what happened.
‘Edlyn fell in the fire. I didn’t see it, I merely heard his screams.’
‘Where is he now?’ One of the marshals took charge.
‘Finn took him to the stream. Could someone fetch Ganieda? She will have a salve to help soothe the burning.’
‘Hereld, you’re the fastest runner here, you go. Was anyone else involved?’
‘There was no one else in the fire, but I couldn’t see the warden. He could be hurt, we need to find him.’
‘Right. Spread out folks, check in the tall grasses, he may have simply fallen asleep.’
Archer tried to get up and his head swam.
‘I don’t think so. You’re going nowhere. Are you burnt? What’s that mark on your arm?’
Archer felt the pain spread from his arm to his chest. It was the last thing he felt.
* * *
Epilogue
‘Please Ganieda, let me sit with him, then you can get on with something else. I know he needs rest and I will not do anything to stop him. I will let you know as soon as he wakes.’
‘All right, but the instant he wakes you must find me. I need to know exactly what happened so I can make sure he gets the right treatment. Promise me.’
‘I promise. Can I hold his hand? I’ve heard it helps for people in the death-slumber.’
Ganieda looked at the serious young thing, not exactly pretty, but with a warm serenity which gave her an inner beauty. She smiled warmly. ‘I’m sure it can do nothing but good, as will talking to him. You could sing to him if you like, that works as well. Except my harsh grumblings would do nothing but harm.’ With a smile, the woman left her precious son in the care of his sweetheart.
Patricia hesitated. The last time she’d done this, almost two years ago, he’d been quite horrible when he woke up. Taking his hand, she hummed a lullaby as her thoughts took her to the previous day’s events and she chatted as she never could if he were awake.
She had lived a lifetime in that day – competing with her best friends, new friendships made, good food, even better dancing and her first real kiss. There were some surprises – not Fletch and Bethia, everyone knew about that, but Tybalt had finally plucked up courage to ask Chrisya and unbelievably, she’d accepted.
As for Finn, he really didn’t seem to know where his affections lay. He’d always been pleasant to her and Chrisya, but she assumed it was because they were friends with Archer and he simply made up the fourth. He spent most of the time talking about Bethia, but now she had made her choice plain, he was looking for a replacement. As was Kayleigh. It was news to everyone that she had nursed a big passion for Archer, but since he … well, maybe the two of them could get together, they certainly had a lot in common.
‘Since I what?’
Patricia jumped, letting go of his hand. She blushed to the tips of her ears as she tried to remember what she had said. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble on.’
‘It’s been good to catch up. I would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice Bethia and Fletch. Someone told me about Tybalt, but I’m surprised at Chrisya.’
‘Because she’s been throwing herself at you?’
‘Because I always considered her too shallow for someone like him. He’s very deep. But Finn and Kayleigh feels right.’
‘Yes, as long as they can both control their tempers.’
‘I always thought there was a reason for that red hair.’ He became serious again, replacing her hand in his. ‘You still haven’t told me what I’ve done which would put her off me. According to Edlyn she expected me to jump the bonfire with her.’
‘Can’t remember.’ She jumped up. ‘I need to fetch Ganieda, I promised I’d let her know as soon as you woke up.’
He still had her hand and pulled her down. ‘Another minute won’t make a difference. Was that really your first kiss?’
She nodded, looking down so her hair covered her face.
‘Mine too.’
‘It can’t have been. What about Bethia? Or Kayleigh? Chrisya? And all the others?’
‘They were kissing Robin Hood, their King of the May, not Archer, son of Sedge. You are the first girl he kissed. And would like to kiss again.’ He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes for a second, then pressed his lips to hers, feeling again their gentle softness.
‘Looks like you’re making a full recovery young Archer.’ They sprang apart guiltily at the sound of Malduc’s voice, but his eyes were positively twinkling as he smiled at them. ‘I’m sure Patricia is doing a wonderful job of nursing you back to health, however I must beg a moment of your time if I may.’
Patricia disappeared. Archer could hear Ganieda pretending to scold her and grinned. He hoped she would come back.
‘It’s good to see you smile, however I’m afraid I have some news you may not find quite so amusing. As soon as you are able, we must send you far away from here. There is an important job which needs doing and you are the only person who can do it. You have certainly proved yourself more than worthy with your actions today.’
‘But can’t someone else go? Finn is easily as good as me. Or one of the seniors? I still have so much to learn.’
‘I think your reluctance is perhaps to do with that young lady out there. I’m sorry to tell you this, but you and she were never meant to share the same path. You would find it out eventually, and it’s better for her if she does not become too attached to you. The pair of you will always remain firm friends, but your destiny is tied up with someone quite different.’
Even as Archer protested, he knew it to be true. The love he felt for Patricia was real, but much closer to the love for a sister. The way he’d felt about Bow at the start. He wanted to ask Malduc about her, but his description of the place where Archer would be sent was so incredible that he completely forgot about everything else.
Glossary
Baldric
A belt worn over one shoulder like a sash; typically used to carry a weapon (e.g. a sword)
Bard
A poet or singer, usually a teller of tales
Bodhráin
Celtic hand-held drum, played with a wooden tipper
Bodkin
A thin, tapered arrowhead, without barbs
Breeches
Trousers (pants)
Buckler
A small round shield used with a sword in close combat
Convey
Bodyguard or
escort, particularly on journeys
Dais
Raised platform or stage
Fox & Geese
A board game with marbles – like checkers/draughts
Gittern
Stringed instrument, similar to a guitar
Handball
Table handball - like table tennis but with gloves instead of bats
Joust
A competition on horseback to show battle skills
Junior
A child in the first stage of training, i.e. from 7–16
Lehren
Equivalent to school, with the emphasis on learning rather than teaching
Librarie
Library
Magi
A Hengist clan: healers, scholars and officials
Marque
A flag used to score in the joust
Nocking
Lining up the flight of the arrow to the silk thread at the centre of the bowstring
Outil
The largest clan of Hengist: craftsmen, artisans and farmers
Pace
A unit of measure – approximately one yard/metre
Pass
A single charge in the joust, also known as a tilt
Pell
A wooden post planted firmly in the ground, used as a target when practising with the sword
Quintain
A shield and weight suspended from a swinging pole, used for target practice with a lance on horseback
Renegate
The smallest clan of Hengist: rebels who broke away from the rest, living as gypsies
Rings
Collected with a lance on horseback
Rouncey
A war horse, cheaper, smaller and swifter than a destrier (also a war horse)
Second
A deputy who supports each contender in the joust
Seneschal
Chief steward, in charge of running the tourney
Senior
From age 17, the education is specific to a trade or occupation, according to talents
Stump ball
Also known as stool ball – an early form of cricket
Surcoat
An outer coat or jacket
Tabard
A sleeveless jacket, worn over a tunic and instead of a coat in warmer months
Tabula
Similar to backgammon, played with dice & counters
Tilt
The wooden barrier separating two combatants in the joust, also used to mean a single charge or pass
Tourney
Tournament
Toxophily
The art of archery
Trammazone
A descending true-edge cut with a sword, it is a circular cut from the wrist, breaking to the inside
Tunic
Garment for the upper body – could be a thin linen shirt or woollen like a jumper
Warrior
A Hengist clan: soldiers/constables & gamekeepers
Waster
A wooden replica of a sword used for training
Worthies
Historical heroes, celebrated at Beltane
Main Festivals in the Year
Samhain
October 31
All Souls (Halloween)
Yule
December
(19-23)
Winter solstice (Christmas)
Imbolc
February 1
Candlemas (Valentine)
Ostara
March
(20-23)
Vernal equinox
(Easter)
Beltane
May 1
The feast of May Day
Midsummer
June
(19-23)
Summer Solstice
longest day
Lughnasadh
August 1
Harvest festival
(Lammas)
Herfest
September
(19-23)
Autumn equinox
Hengist
Gods
Colours
Sunday
Sun
Gold, orange
Moonday
Moon
Silver, grey
Tiwsday
Tiw, Mars
Red, maroon
Wodensday
Woden, Mercury
Brown, yellow
Thorsday
Thor, Jupiter
Turquoise, green
Freyaday
Freya, Venus
Pink, purple
Saturnday
Saturn
Blue, black
Days of the Week
FREE DOWNLOAD– Bonus Extras
Discover which songs form the soundtrack to the book.
Read a short story about the event which kicked it all off.
Find out more about the cast by seeing them through the author’s eyes.
Sign up for Jacky Gray’s new releases mailing list and get a free copy of this bonus material.
Click here to sign up: http://eepurl.com/b5ZScH
Acknowledgements
Thank you to everyone who has helped me to believe in myself – without you, Archer would never have lived outside of my imagination and my computer’s hard drive.
Special thanks to the following – you know the part you played and words cannot express my gratitude: Kevin, Lindsey, Char, Jo, Debby, Norman, Lynne, Sam, Steph, Kerry, Maria, Pam, Hannah, Sarah, Chris and Anthony. Even when you think it’s good, there’s always room for improvement – grateful thanks for your excellent wisdom and advice to Vickie, Jamie, Tim, Amanda, Adina, Eli, Veronica and Paula. And a huge thanks to the lovely World Wise Writers for their help in sprucing up this latest version. Thank you Ace, Hannah, Sho and JD.
A big thank you to Kevin Hicks, Richard Head, Karl Ude-Martinez and the bloggers @ ARMA for their technical expertise – any remaining mistakes are of my own making.
But the biggest thanks have to go to you, dear reader – I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, I would really appreciate if you could leave a comment on Amazon (http://geni.us/Archer) to allow other readers to decide if it’s their kind of story.
The next adventure in this series is Rory. If you would like a taster, read on:
Archer examined the tiny room for somewhere to conceal his bow and quiver. Under the cot may suffice – no, Julie called it a bed. His new foster mother had instructed him to “hang out” with the other boys when he finished unpacking. Opening the back door, he was half expecting a gallows mob and sure enough, they surrounded him like predators.
‘So, Archer, think you’re Robin Hood, mate?’
‘Yeah, what’s with the bow and arrows?’
‘Most people throw their toys away when they reach puberty.’
‘He obviously thinks he’s still a baby – calls his bed a cot.’
Where I come from, babies sleep in cradles. Archer said nothing. This was familiar territory; he learnt long ago to show no reaction. He knew only one way to deal with bullying, deny the wolves their sport until they got bored or caught the scent of fresh meat.
Their howls followed him into the house where his new foster father, a gruff man called Dave, was staring at a box in the corner of the room. Archer gaped in horror at images of a battle with mighty explosions and wounded people.
‘Can we not help those people? They need…’ he tried to fathom how best to treat a leg torn off at the knee and pumping blood.
The picture changed to women on a beach as Dave glanced round. ‘Close your mouth son, never seen a woman in a bikini before?’
‘What happened to the wounded men?’
‘Are you for real? They’re in the Middle East. Didn’t they have a TV where you came from?’
‘A TV? Is that what you call the box? How does it work?’
‘I don’t know. I’m no electrician.’ Dave’s sigh was evidence of his annoyance. ‘I’m sure it’ll tell you on
the internet. Well it would if Peter hadn’t kicked his football at the monitor and smashed it. Try the encyclopaedia.’ He nodded at a shelf. ‘You can read, can’t you?’
Archer smiled as he saw something he could understand. Books. He took the one marked S-U, up to his room and lay on the bed, catching up on several hundred years’ worth of inventions.
The next three days were no better; Archer had little to record in his journal. The blank page taunted – the first lines were the hardest.
Being sixteen is not easy with nasty chemicals invading your body causing embarrassing smells and things growing where you don’t expect. The hormones take over: one minute they have you laughing wildly, the next you don’t know whether to fight, run or cry.
He threw down the pen with a growl that sounded close to a curse. Writing about his feelings was not easy. After reading it through, he crossed out the word “cry” – something he had not done for a very long time. And he would never run; warrior training had reinforced his natural urge to stay and face whatever threatened him.
This was a ridiculously difficult task for a “man of few words.” He grinned at the phrase used by the woman he called mother as she tended injuries from a brawl. A brawl caused when he defended her good name. It took Archer a while to understand that she found his wounds more distressing than the spiteful insults of bullies.