Decisions

The five remaining archers from the day's elimination competitions gathered their equipment and stepped onto the wagon to be taken to the site for the final competition of the day. They were excited and a bit nervous, after all this was the final test to see who would be eligible to be accepted to the Royal Archery Guard. I could tell that some of the nervousness was in the fact that this competition would take place outside of the watching eyes of the day's spectators and that was raising concern. What kind of competition would it be that couldn't be watched by the families of the archers and the other spectators of the days shoot?

The ride to the competition site was 45 minutes, but to the archers I'm sure it seemed much longer. There were many sites closer that were available but this site was chosen because of the travel time. It was necessary for the rear guard to be sure no spectators had followed. We all dismounted and began the short walk through the forest to the glade I had picked for the site. In the center of the glade there were three of each archers' arrows. Each group of three arrows were spaced ten feet apart and, hanging in the trees 25 paces from the arrows, were 2 clay discs. The archers had already competed at the distance of 25 paces during the day and I had expected there to be no misses at this distance.

"Archers, if you would proceed to your shooting marks and in your own time fire two arrows at the hanging discs." The archers picked up their equipment and lightly stretched out muscles which had grown stiff during the ride. Once ready, they quickly made short work of the discs, all ten shattering quite dramatically when struck by the arrows.

"Now, each of you has already won the prize of 25 silver coins and all that remains is one final arrow to determine who will be joining me to become one of the Royal Archers." I had each of the archers' attention, and could from my vantage point see my guards setting up the final targets. "You will each have one more disc to shoot at, again from 25 paces, however, this time there will be added incentive for you to ensure you hit the target. Please gentlemen, turn and pick up your last arrow."

None of the archers made it to the arrow, as they all froze in position, eyes as wide as can be. Twenty five paces in front of each shooter was a standing prisoner, tied in position to prevent any movement. Suspended from the prisoners' chins and secured to their necks were the clay discs.

"Come now, gentlemen, the distance has not changed, the target size has not changed. What is the problem? I have seen you shoot this target all day. Surely confidence is not the problem, you just proved that to me and to yourselves. If your concerns are for the prisoners, do not worry, all of these men are convicted killers and will hang at dawn anyway. If anything, a poor shot here will save them the pain and humiliation of a public hanging."

Still none of the shooters stepped forward. In fact, one of them stepped back, towards me, and as he did, he stepped through the bow and unstrung it. "Sir, this man may hang at dawn and at that time it will be up to God to judge him, but it will not be my hand that sends him on his way. I will have no part of your test." I nodded to the archer and motioned for one of my guards to escort him away from the other archers.

Taking one of the crossbows from the guards, I stepped to the line and quickly fired one bolt. The bolt struck the neck of the prisoner and passed through into the trees. The prisoner make no noise but slumped slightly in his ropes. "You see gentlemen, these lives mean nothing. Whether they die now or in the morning makes no difference to this world. Now gentles, to the line, please."

The remaining four archers, all a little whiter than when they started, stepped to the line and nocked their arrows. After taking a few deep breaths two of the shooters released after a quick aim. One arrow struck dead center of the disc and passed harmlessly by the prisoner. The second arrow missed the disc and the prisoner by about a foot and embedded itself in a tree. Both shooters had hit exactly what they were aiming for.

The third shooter aimed and held the shot for a while. After a moment he brought the arrow down and calmed himself. Again the bow came up and again he aimed and held the shot. I knew that if he held much longer he ran the risk of dropping the arrow low. The arrow finally flew and as predicted passed under the disc and off into the forest. The prisoner, his eyes darting wildly about, realized he was uninjured and passed out. The archer stepped back from the line, breathed a sigh of relief not to have struck any closer and joined the prisoner in a faint.

The forth and final shooter looked long and hard at his target. He turned towards me and shook his head. "I cannot shoot at this target. This person is known to me and whether he has been judged as guilty by the Crown does not change the fact that I believe there were circumstances which were not considered. Be warned Sir, your construction of this competition is enough to make me hate you, but if you carry out your actions as you did with the previous prisoner you will have earned yourself a very deadly enemy." I nodded to him and motioned for him to join the guards as well.

"This competition is at an end and it is my decision to sponsor Byron Fletcher, who has successfully completed this competition, as my selection to the Royal Archers. As for the fate of the prisoners, I too think there are, at times, unconsidered circumstances. The remaining four prisoners will be escorted by my guards to a ship, which will take them to France. I believe that for these men, exile and not death should be their punishment. Understand that if any of them return to Scotland, their lives will be forfeit. As for my killing the one prisoner, he was a man who raped and killed a local woman. In the fire he set to cover his crime, he managed to kill the neighbor's family as well. You see, there are times, I prefer to be the hand that sends them to the final judgment."

"Before I return you to your villages to either join your families or to pack for travel, I have one request." Turning to the forth shooter, "Endrick of Dale, would you accept a position as one of my guards? I believe that should the prisoner not have been someone you knew that you would have struck the target. You would make a most welcome addition to my guard. You are an excellent archer, a man of high morals, and I believe that your traits will be of great addition to my service.

All eyes turned to Endrick, but his eyes did not meet them. A slow nod of his head was his only reaction. A nod to my guards freed the prisoners and quickly the whole group - archers, guards, and prisoners came together for a round of cheers.