Part 31 (1/2)

”Ouch.” She dropped the bow and rubbed her arm. ”That hurt!”

”Let's try it with an arrow.” Pulling an arrow from the quiver, he set the nock in the string and showed her how to rest it on her fingers. The children hastily finished setting up the targets and ran back to their sides.

”Go ahead and practice, children,” Alisoun called.

They paid no attention to her words. They focused totally on the point of the arrow as she pulled the string back once more.

”Hold it up! Use a finer tension! Hold it up!” David squinted as the bow quivered in her grasp. ”Now, let it fly!”

Plowing a furrow along the dirt, the arrow came to rest against a clump of gra.s.s not five feet in front of her. The children stared at it in confounded silence.

David told Alisoun, ”You can open your eyes now.”

Her eyes popped open. ”I didn't realize I'd closed them.” She looked eagerly at the targets.

Bert's laughter exploded in a snort and Eudo smothered it with his hand. Bewildered, Alisoun looked at them, then looked again at the targets. Taking her head, David moved it down until she could see the abused and dirty arrow.

”You didn't point high enough,” he said.

”Oh.” She looked at the children again, but they had their merriment firmly under control. ”I'll do it again.”

One thing David had to say about Alisoun, she didn't give up easily. More arrow points ate dirt than in his entire history of teaching squires. At last he said, ”That's enough for now. Your wrist will be swollen if you don't stop.”

”I've almost got it.” She set her chin with determination. ”Just one more.” Notching the arrow, she lifted the bow high, and let it fly...over the training ground, over the weapons shed, and out of sight.

David, Alisoun, and the children stood frozen, waiting, wondering.

They heard a squawk. One squawk, then nothing.

”What have I done?” Alisoun whispered.

One of the goose girls came flying around the shed, holding a dead gander by its feet. ”Who did that?” she shouted. ”Me best stud, killed by an arrow!” She turned the bird and showed the shaft embedded in the gander's head.

”I'm sorry,” David shouted back. ”It's my fault.”

”Likely story.” The girl shook her finger toward Eudo. ”'Twas probably this one, wi' his fancy aimin' an' his foreign ways.”

Bert shouldered her way to the front. ”Nay, Nancy, 'twas me.” She took the bow out of Alisoun's limp grip and waved it. ”I'm getting good, aren't I?”

Nancy squinted at the bow, then at the child holding it. She wanted to call Bert a liar, but she didn't dare.

”Take the gander to the kitchen,” David instructed. ”We'll have him for dinner and my lady will get us a new gander.” He put his hand on her shoulder. ”Won't you?”

”Aye, and gladly, too.” Alisoun tried to smile, but it was nothing more than a lift of the lips to show her teeth.

Nancy nodded resentfully, and when she disappeared again Alisoun turned to David. ”I am so sorry.”

”'Tis nothing.” He rubbed her back.

”Your best gander!”

Bert patted her hip. ”Nancy thinks all of the ganders are her best gander.”

Alisoun seemed to suddenly realize David and Bert were touching her, while she herself had not complied with David's request to give his child affection. Awkwardly, she patted Bert on the head. The girl looked up in astonishment. David waited, cringing, but Bert just shrugged and moved away.

”Can we do the swords now?” Bert loved the swords best. Laid out on a trestle table, the gray practice blades shone in the sun. No rust speckled their surface; even worn swords such as these merited good treatment. The wooden swords, too, had been carefully formed and kept for the younger boys' practice.

With reverent hands, Bert reached out and stroked one of the iron blades.

Catching her wrist, David said, ”Swords would be a good idea.” He thrust a wooden sword into her hand. ”With this.”

She pouted, sure she wouldn't get her way but resolved to try. ”I'm big enough for a real sword.”

”You're not.”

”Let me try.”

Hefting his own short sword, Eudo said, ”A real squire wouldn't beg like a girl.”

Even Bert's ears turned red. David could see the tips where they stuck out from her butchered hair. But she shut her mouth with a snap.

David turned to Alisoun. ”We'll start you on a wooden sword, also.”

Bert saw her chance to take her pique out on someone else. ”Aren't you going to have her lift the broadsword?”

”Not this day.” David spoke to Alisoun. ”You hold the hilt in both your hands-”

”You made me pick up the broadsword first.” Bert spoke in a singsong voice. ”You always make the new swordsman pick up the broadsword first.”

Annoyed, David said, ”Nay, Bert.”

”What's so entertaining about picking up the broadsword?” Alisoun fondled the handle of the biggest blade.

Bert smirked. ”Have you ever picked one up?”

”You're such a baby,” Eudo said in obvious disgust.

”She's not going to pick up a broadsword,” David insisted.

”I think I would like to, now.” Alisoun asked for permission with an appealing glance.

David glared at his daughter, then answered, ”As you wish, my lady. However, they're very heavy and if you're not careful-”

She withdrew it from its sheath. It slid it off the table and the tip of the blade slapped to the ground.

”-you'll drop it.” He tweaked Bert's hair hard enough to stop her from giggling, then moved to Alisoun's side. Again he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her. Putting his hands over hers, he helped her lift it. ”It's a good blade still,” he told her. ”Can you feel the balance? The weight?” Swaying back and forth, they swung it until it whistled. ”In a fight, it's not necessarily the man with the most skill who wins. Often, it's the man with the most endurance.”

”I understand. Let me hold it now.”

”Don't make any sudden moves,” he warned.