Autumn, 1326

A notorious story was now circulating around the River Triangle. Lord Fairfax had paid Stanton a surprise visit with a dozen knights and men-at-arms. Hoping to keep the Coriolians happy, Wilcox had arranged a series of dueling competitions which the knights won with ease. They were less successful with the archery competition, as the necessity of the villagers to hunt for survival and defend themselves from the creatures of the Wilds meant that their skill far surpassed any training the satrap’s household obtained from periodic leisure hunting. This greatly annoyed Lord Fairfax, who suddenly had his men grab Charlotte the barmaid from the Dancing Wolf and bind her to one of poles of the plaza platform. The satrap then dramatically placed his bourrelet upon her head, before adding a golden lion atop it and declaring to the terrified townsfolk assembled around him:

“The people of Stanton are indeed skilled with the bow and quiver. Now could they be skilled enough to take this coin from the top of this fair maiden without harming her?”

The lord went around asking the various archery participants to try their hand, but Wilcox, De Trobliand, Edwin, Conrad, and Olgel all refused to risk Charlotte’s life.

Lord Fairfax laughed at his little victory before continuing to goad the populace:

“Anyone then, is anyone skilled enough in this town?” He waved his arm around the cowed locals. “Tis’ a shame. Perhaps I will let her stand here until I see what Stanton can really do.”

Everyone indeed waited, no one willing to confront the satrap and his taunting guards or gamble with the game to save the shaking barmaid. However Glib did take the time to run off and find his friend, a hunter and trapper from the edge of the Southern woods. Within an hour, Woden, thin, wiry and lanky, arrived in town with his personal longbow.

“I will try, sir,” he stated.

This caused great amusement for the Lord of Corioli.

“A backcountry woodsman to defend Stanton’s honor?” Fairfax roared. “By all means, do give it a try.”

Woden quickly ran over to Charlotte, comforting her.

“We can do this, dear. Look to the ground, stand as close as possible and hold your breath. Can you do that?”

The barmaid nodded.

Woden went back and picked up his bow. Then from a hundred paces he notched his string, drew, held his breath, and fired. The bow skimmed right above Lord Fairfax’s hat, causing the coin to bounce off the back of the pole before Woden’s arrow embedded itself into the wood.

The observing crowd went silent, then burst into cheers.

Lord Fairfax was shocked, but quickly recovered, slowly and loudly clapping his hands. This quickly silenced the townsfolk again.

“Very good, woodsmen. It seems that Stanton has much ability to offer Corioli. Very well, I am satisfied with my inspection.”

Charlotte, nearly frozen in fear from her ordeal, was quickly freed and everyone quickly lost interest in the games.

As the crowd began to break up and the satrap's host left town with waving banners and blaring horns, de Troblaind walked up to the champion while the latter busied himself collecting his belongings and packing up.

“Congratulations sir. You are a skilled archer indeed.”

Woden stopped and turned with a brief genuflection. “Thank you, Normad. I did what anyone else would have done here had they been able to do so.”

“Now, I noticed that you had in fact notched a second arrow immediately after the first. What is your reason for doing so?”

Woden glanced warily into the distance as Lord Fairfax’s entourage finally exited the town gate, then looked over the Normad carefully, as if evaluating his motives. Finally the woodsman shrugged and began unstringing his bow.

“In case I missed the first shot-” Woden replied, wrapping his string and throwing his deerskin cloak over his head. “I had a second shot for the Lord of Corioli himself. I don’t miss twice.”

With that, the woodsman turned and headed out.

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Gioacchino Rossini - William Tell: Overture (Dawn)

From  TheDinosaurMann!