Free The Bow by Bill Sharrock

hundred and fifty pounder!’
Ralf gasped.
    ‘ We all of us shot twelve a minute at Agincourt when
it mattered.’
    Ralf’s face fell and his shoulders sagged. He took a
few steps and sat down on the cobbles, his back to a water trough.
‘I’d never do that!’ he said.
    James came and sat beside him. ‘Not this side of
Michaelmas,’ he said. ‘But a good masterbowman could see you
right within a twelve month, if ye have as much willing as I think ye
have.’
    ‘ And in the meantime?’
    James laughed. ‘Get down to the bowyer and find a
stave of Spanish yew that draws one-ten. That way ye’ll put eight
arrows in the air, even though they’ll bounce off all but leather
and mail at fifty yards.’
    ‘ But that’s no good!’
    ‘ Aye, you’re right, but it’ll look pretty enough,
and should fool the master until you build up a bit more brawn and
get back to the one fifteen or even a twenty.’
    ‘ And how long is that?’
    ‘ As long as ye want to make it, lad. But I wouldn’t
hang around if I were you. Stay out of the taverns, leave the wenches
alone and get down to the butts as much as ye can.’ He hesitated.
‘I’ll give ye a start, and then try to find a masterbowman to set
ye right.’
    Almost without thinking, Ralf grabbed James by the arm
and shook his hand. ‘Thank you!’ he blurted out.
    'Ah, think nothing of it!’ James got to his feet and
headed off down the street. He turned and called over his shoulder:
    ‘ Oh, and buy yourself a horse! You’ll be needing one
for the march.’
    'A horse? A horse? Where do I find a horse?’ Ralf
shouted.
    James laughed again. ‘If you have the money, lad, the
horse will find you!’ Moments later he was gone, leaving Ralf alone
by the water trough.
    The young apprentice looked all about him then shrugged:
    ‘ I should’ve stayed in Norwich,’ he said, and went
back into the house.
    For the next three weeks Ralf trained hard down at the
butts. Most of the time James was there too, keeping an eye on the
young archer and looking to his own training. He had almost given up
finding a master bowman to tutor Ralf when he noticed a group of
Welsh longbowmen in their familiar green and white tunics. They were
gathered by one of the targets on the western side of the meadow. He
wandered across. As he came up to them, he recognised one straight
away. It was Yevan ap Griffiths, and he was half-turned away from
James, checking the horn-tip on his bow. He looked around as James
greeted him:
    Hey up, there! It’s young James Fletcher! What are ye
doing here, boyo? I thought ye were away to that young wife of
yours, and an easy life in an English village.’
    James smiled and grasped Yevan’s outstretched arm:
    ‘ Well met, Yevan! I’m here for enough to buy me some
land, then I’m away back to my home.’
    ‘ Hah hah! Are ye now, then? The fields of France are
white with the bones of Englishmen who thought the same. I thought
ye’d learnt your lesson, James. That Frenchie nearly skinned ye at
Agincourt, if I remember it right.’
    ‘ Aye, and it was your good self that kept me on my
feet. What company are ye with?’
    Yevan put his head on one side and winked: ‘Why Dorset
of course, but I fight in the pay of a young English captain fresh
from Wales and eager for the wars.’
    James looked carefully at him: ‘You’re not saying ..
.’
    'Aye, I am, boyo! It’s William Bretoun. Left his kin
in Yeovil and came to the valleys to find men fit for the fight.’
    ‘ The devil ‘e did!’
    'Ye can leave the divvil out of it, boyo! It’s Captain
William now, and he’ll do me for a man to follow, and a wage to
draw.’
    'It’s his indenture then, ye signed.’
    ‘ Aye, and fixed to the seal of our lord of Dorset.
We’ve all signed, ain’t we lads?’
    The others nodded, and turned back to their weapons.
James smiled again, and took a pace back. ‘Well, ye know as well as
any that I can’t leave my captain – like enough as I would – I
carry the