‘The wooden part looks something like our bows at home,’ I remarked. ‘Heartwood to the belly, sapwood to the back.’
Osric’s slight smile contained a hint of pride.
‘This bow is made of wood, horn and sinew. Each element was gathered at the right season, selected and prepared, carefully fitted. It will have taken at least two years to make.’
‘How did it come to be gathering dust in the royal armoury?’
‘War loot?’ Osric said with a shrug, ‘A neglected gift to King Carolus that no one knew how to use properly?’
I was intrigued.
‘What sort of range does it have and still be accurate?’
‘At seventy paces a competent bowman should put his arrows into a target three spans across,’ he paused deliberately, ‘at a gallop.’
I thought I had misheard. As Hroudland had said, only foot soldiers used bows.
‘You mean from horseback?’ I asked.
Osric noted my disbelief.
‘I can teach you how to do it. Either on foot or on horseback.’
It took me no more than a moment to realize my opportunity. Here was my chance to excel in the paladins’ warrior games. I would surprise and shock my companions.
‘And against someone wearing armour?’ I asked.
‘With the right arrow head, seventy paces is also your killing range.’
That settled it. A thrown javelin might hit the target at twenty paces, but I would demonstrate how my arrows could empty a saddle at three times the distance.
‘Then I want you to teach me,’ I said to Osric.
‘You will have to be patient.’ He gave a mirthless smile. ‘And for once you will find your eye patch is a help. You aim with the right eye only.’
So I became Osric’s pupil. While my more energetic companions wrestled, lifted weights, competed in races on foot while wearing armour, or held swimming contests, I would slip away and practise my archery. Osric showed me the correct stance when I drew the bow, how to control my breathing, allow for the wind, time my release. He explained the exercises to strengthen the muscles in my back and arms, and insisted on hour after hour of target practice. I enjoyed it all, and Osric was no more than honest when he said that I was a natural archer. By the time the leaves began to turn, I was close to achieving the standard he expected — sending arrow after arrow into a target as broad as a man’s torso, at seventy paces. I was still on foot, for he said that shooting from horseback would come later.
King Carolus required that once a week all the paladins received formal instruction in a topic of his choosing. Like reluctant school children we assembled in the entrance porch of the royal chancery. It was temporarily housed in an annex of the great unfinished church and through the open doorway we could glimpse the earnest-looking monks and scribes. Some were at their desks, heads down and hunched over documents. Others stood in little groups conferring, while a secretary with a stylus took notes on a wax tablet. Porters and messengers bustled past us with expressions that told us we were standing in the way of what really mattered in the kingdom.
One day it was Alcuin himself who emerged to tell us that our topic for the day was to be geography.
Beside me Berenger muttered, ‘Thank the Lord! I feared it would be theology.’
Alcuin pretended not to have heard.
‘I will detain you only a few minutes, but it will be long enough to demonstrate that geography has its uses in war as in peace,’ he said coolly. He gave no hint that he already knew me, and he brought us into the chancery and led us directly to a broad trestle table covered with biscuit-coloured tiles of baked clay laid side by side like the squares on a games board.
I studied what was scratched on them — the names of towns, rivers, provinces. I was looking at a great map of the kingdom of the Franks and the neighbouring lands, a portable map ingeniously made so it could be dismantled and reassembled wherever it was needed.
‘We use this for planning, both civil and military,’ Alcuin was saying. He walked round the table to its far side. ‘Here, for example, is Byzantium, the capital of the Eastern Emperor. Over there,’ he waved his hand, ‘is the northern sea.’
I recalled the model of the palace I had seen in the king’s chambers. There had been no documents or written material in his room. It occurred to me that Carolus could neither read nor write, and that this map of tiles was as much for his benefit as for the clerks in the chancery.
Alcuin reached into a small wooden box and produced a number of figurines, miniatures of men, horses and oxen.
‘What sort of child’s toys are those?’ interrupted Anseis rudely.
Alcuin remained unflustered.
‘Do you play tafl?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’
‘In that game you calculate which of your opponent’s squares are vulnerable and which squares hold threats?’
‘Naturally.’
‘Then think of this map in the same way. It tells you who lies beyond your immediate neighbour, and with whom you should form alliances.’
Anseis snorted with disdain.
‘I don’t need that map to tell me what I already know.’
‘But this device will also allow you to plan your campaigns and plot your strategy-’ Alcuin paused for dramatic effect ‘-which is why our king and lord asked me to teach you some geography. He may want your advice about where he should next send his armies.’
Alcuin now had their complete attention; they were like a pack of hounds that have heard the first, faint sound of the huntsman’s horn.
‘If you were to advise the king, what would you say should be his priority?’ he asked.
‘Finish off the heathen Saxons,’ grunted Gerin. ‘We’ve been fighting them for years. One last push should do it.’
Alcuin placed the clay figures of a man, a horse and an ox, facing outward on the tile labelled SAXONIA.
‘So here we assign some infantry, cavalry and a supply train for the task. You will have to bear in mind that the king’s host will be entering densely wooded country. It will be slow work for them.’ He indicated some cross- hatching incised in the tiles. I guessed it represented forests.
‘I disagree,’ said Gerard. ‘The Saracens are a greater threat than the Saxons. They’ve attacked us once and will do so again.’
I recalled that Gerard’s home was in the far south bordering on the Mediterranean and had been ravaged by Arabs from Africa.
Alcuin placed several more figurines on the tile marked SEPTIMANIA.
Hroudland was stalking eagerly around the table, looking at the map from every angle.
‘The best campaign is one that brings glory and also pays for itself. If we overrun the Avars, their treasure will fill our coffers for years to come.’
Alcuin arranged some miniatures, this time in the east, on CARINTHIA.
‘What is your suggestion?’ asked Alcuin. He was looking directly at me.
The little figures on the table were facing in opposite directions, widely scattered and vulnerable. My reply would sound cautious and dull compared to the opinions of my companions.
‘I would begin by asking the king whether he really needs to extend his kingdom. It is already immense and it prospers.’
‘And if he does decide to send out his army?’ Alcuin asked softly.
‘Then he must first secure his borders; make sure that no enemy invades while his troops are elsewhere.’
‘Which is precisely what I and the other members of his council have been telling him,’ said Alcuin. He began
