"The White Company" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Chapter VIII

THE THREE FRIENDS

HIS companions had passed on whilst he was at his orisons; but
his young blood and the fresh morning air both invited him to a
scamper.  His staff in one hand and his scrip in the other, with
springy step and floating locks, he raced along the forest path,
as active and as graceful as a young deer.  He had not far to go,
however; for, on turning a corner, he came on a roadside cottage
with a wooden fence-work around it, where stood big John and
Aylward the bowman, staring at something within.  As he came up
with them, he saw that two little lads, the one about nine years
of age and the other somewhat older, were standing on the plot in
front of the cottage, each holding out a round stick in their
left hands, with their arms stiff and straight from the shoulder,
as silent and still as two small statues.  They were pretty,
blue-eyed, yellow-haired lads, well made and sturdy, with bronzed
skins, which spoke of a woodland life.

"Here are young chips from an old bow stave!" cried the soldier
in great delight.  "This is the proper way to raise children.  By
my hilt! I could not have trained them better had I the ordering
of it myself,"

"What is it then?" asked Hordle John.  "They stand very stiff,
and I trust that they have not been struck so."

"Nay, they are training their left arms, that they may have a
steady grasp of the bow.  So my own father trained me.  and six
days a week I held out his walking-staff till my arm was heavy as
lead.  Hola, mes enfants! how long will you hold out?"

"Until the sun is over the great lime-tree, good master," the
elder answered.

What would ye be, then?  Woodmen?  Verderers?"

Nay, soldiers," they cried both together.

"By the beard of my father! but ye are whelps of the true breed.
Why so keen, then, to be soldiers?"

"That we may fight the Scots," they answered.  "Daddy will send
us to fight the Scots."

"And why the Scots, my pretty lads?  We have seen French and
Spanish galleys no further away than Southampton, but I doubt
that it will be some time before the Scots find their way to
these parts."

"Our business is with the Scots," quoth the elder; "for it was
the Scots who cut off daddy's string fingers and his thumbs."

"Aye, lads, it was that," said a deep voice from behind Alleyne's
shoulder.  Looking round, the wayfarers saw a gaunt, big-boned
man, with sunken cheeks and a sallow face, who had come up behind
them.  He held up his two hands as he spoke, and showed that the
thumbs and two first fingers had been torn away from each of
them.

"Ma foi, camarade!" cried Aylward.  "Who hath served thee in so
shameful a fashion?"

"It is easy to see, friend, that you were born far from the
marches of Scotland," quoth the stranger, with a bitter smile.
"North of Humber there is no man who would not know the handiwork
of Devil Douglas, the black Lord James."

"And how fell you into his hands?" asked John.

"I am a man of the north country, from the town of Beverley and
the wapentake of Holderness," he answered.  "There was a day
when, from Trent to Tweed, there was no better marksman than
Robin Heathcot.  Yet, as you see, he hath left me, as he hath
left many another poor border archer, with no grip for bill or
bow.  Yet the king hath given me a living here in the southlands,
and please God these two lads of mine will pay off a debt that
hath been owing over long.  What is the price of daddy's thumbs,
boys?"

"Twenty Scottish lives," they answered together.

"And for the fingers?"

"Half a score."

"When they can bend my war-bow, and bring down a squirrel at a
hundred paces, I send them to take service under Johnny Copeland,
the Lord of the Marches and Governor of Carlisle.  By my soul!  I
would give the rest of my fingers to see the Douglas within
arrow-flight of them."

"May you live to see it," quoth the bowman.  "And hark ye, mes
enfants, take an old soldier's rede and lay your bodies to the
bow, drawing from hip and thigh as much as from arm.  Learn also,
I pray you, to shoot with a dropping shaft; for though a bowman
may at times be called upon to shoot straight and fast, yet it is
more often that he has to do with a town-guard behind a wall, or
an arbalestier with his mantlet raised when you cannot hope to do
him scathe unless your shaft fall straight upon him from the
clouds.  I have not drawn string for two weeks, but I may be able
to show ye how such shots should be made."  He loosened his
long-bow, slung his quiver round to the front, and then glanced
keenly round for a fitting mark.  There was a yellow and withered
stump some way off, seen under the drooping branches of a lofty
oak.  The archer measured the distance with his eye; and then,
drawing three shafts, he shot them off with such speed that the
first had not reached the mark ere the last was on the string.
Each arrow passed high over the oak; and, of the three, two stuck
fair into the stump; while the third, caught in some wandering
puff of wind, was driven a foot or two to one side.

"Good!" cried the north countryman.  "Hearken to him lads!  He is
a master bowman, Your dad says amen to every word he says."

"By my hilt!" said Aylward, "if I am to preach on bowmanship, the
whole long day would scarce give me time for my sermon.  We have
marksmen in the Company who will knotch with a shaft every
crevice and joint of a man-at-arm's harness, from the clasp of
his bassinet to the hinge of his greave.  But, with your favor,
friend, I must gather my arrows again, for while a shaft costs a
penny a poor man can scarce leave them sticking in wayside
stumps.  We must, then, on our road again, and I hope from my
heart that you may train these two young goshawks here until they
are ready for a cast even at such a quarry as you speak of."

Leaving the thumbless archer and his brood, the wayfarers struck
through the scattered huts of Emery Down, and out on to the broad
rolling heath covered deep in ferns and in heather, where droves
of the half-wild black forest pigs were rooting about amongst the
hillocks.  The woods about this point fall away to the left and
the right, while the road curves upwards and the wind sweeps
keenly over the swelling uplands.  The broad strips of bracken
glowed red and yellow against the black peaty soil, and a queenly
doe who grazed among them turned her white front and her great
questioning eyes towards the wayfarers.