I was spared from thinking too deeply about it that day, however, when the talk turned to archery.
We were all dressed again by that time, our clothing dried but stinking of woodsmoke, and Will had surged to his feet, making a point of some kind. I had been sitting cross-legged, and I stood as soon as he did, pushing myself up using only my legs. Andrew tried to do the same, but as he tensed to make the effort his eyes flew wide and he blanched. He groaned and brought both hands to his temples, squeezing his forehead between them. Will and I froze, watching him with alarm, but his face cleared quickly and he took his hands away from his brow cautiously.
“My head started to spin,” he said, a little shamefacedly. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Why not?” Will said. “You almost broke your skull but a short while ago, and that’s the first time you’ve tried to stand up quickly since. Here.” He held out a hand and Andrew grasped it, pulling himself up easily this time. I noticed that Will did not release his hand, but instead shifted his grip on it, an odd expression on his face, and then he raised his other hand to me, beckoning with his fingers. “Jamie, your hand.”
I was mystified as he guided my hand to replace his own, my fingers curling beneath Andrew’s.
“Feel that, and tell me if I’m wrong.”
As soon as I felt Andrew Murray’s fingers against my own, my confusion vanished. I turned our new friend’s hand palm upward to see the ridges of callused skin that coated his first two fingers. I felt my eyebrows rise.
“You’re a bowman?”
“What?” He pulled his hand away, clenching his fist and grinning again, uncertainly, I thought. “Aye, after a fashion. I am. It’s not a knightly pastime, but I enjoy it from time to time.”
“It’s not a pastime at all.” Will’s voice was flat. “And you don’t get finger pads like that by practising from time to time. That comes only from years of work with a taut bowstring, as these ones did.” He held out his own right hand, his first two fingers extended and parted in a V.
Andrew’s lips pursed in a soundless whistle as he gazed at the marked difference between Will’s calluses and his own. “By Saint Stephen’s martyred wounds, another bowman.”
“No, not so.” There was no speck of humour in Will’s denial. “You are a bowman. So is Jamie. I am an archer.”
The other’s lip quirked. “Bowman, archer … Is there a difference?”
“Aye—about two hundred paces.”
Andrew blinked. “What? You can hit a mark at two hundred paces?”
“Sweet Jesus, aye. Nine times out of ten. And so can Jamie here, six of those times. But I meant I could hit a mark two hundred paces beyond any you can reach.”
“I think not,” Andrew said, his tone reflecting disappointment that his new friend would lie so blatantly.
“Think what you like, my friend, but I will prove it to you once you tell me what kind of bow you use.”
“Elmwood. Five feet long.”
“Go, then, and fetch it. I will get mine and meet you here again in a half-hour.”
Murray’s face tightened. “Sweet Jesus! What hour is it?”
I glanced at the sun and shadows. “About the fourth after noon.”
“I lost track of the day! Now I must get back. Lord John might be looking for me.” He bent down to gather up his cloak, then looked at Will again as he straightened. “You have a yew bow, don’t you? A longbow.”
“I do.”
“A round one.”
“Yes.”
“Aye, I see it now … those calluses. So be it, then, I believe your claim. But where in the name of God did you find it? Yon’s an English weapon, and English archers don’t part with their bows. There are not many big yew trees in Scotland.”
Will smiled. “I didn’t need many—just the one. But in truth my teacher found it near our home in Elderslie. He cut the stave, cured and dried it, and taught me how to make the bow from that point on.”
“A full longbow of your own! Can you be here tomorrow? I would like to test it.”
Will grinned. He had been using his huge yew bow for more than two months by then and knew its power, and I knew the anticipation of demonstrating it to his new friend must be more than he could bear. “Aye, if you’re still here and your master keeps the Abbot and his brethren in conference.”
“We will be here. The same time?”
“I’ll be waiting,” Will answered.
2
The following morning I went directly to Brother Duncan and asked to be relieved of my tasks that day. He gave me a stern look, though I had learned long since that his air of disapproval was but a sham. I had never asked for such a dispensation before, though, and he asked me what I was about. I told him of our meeting the day before with the visiting Andrew Murray, and he merely nodded and granted me leave. I ran to find Will, and we had time to collect our targets and set them up in the glade by the river bridge well in advance of Andrew’s arrival.