It was the Saturday of War of the Wings. It had rained the night before and the entire morning, but the afternoon had cleared and I was excited to fight in the woods battle. I had never done a woods battle, and the added difficulty as an archer was exciting. As myself and my Household Brother, Sir William, prepared to leave camp and make our way to the battle field, two others returned informing us that they had cancelled the woods battle because of concern for the ground being too slick.
I was heartbroken. I hadn’t fought the day before, fully expecting to fight all day Saturday. The rain had cancelled the morning field battle, and now the afternoon woods battle as well.
“We’re already armored; let’s go practice. I’ll let you shoot me.” Sir William announced, confirming his role of Best Household Brother Ever.
Along the way we ran into our Shire member Ren, who agreed to head back to the field and do some practicing with us. Once there we learned that they were trying to do some 5-man melee pick-ups on the bridge. After a quick word with the Marshals, we secured my position in the fighting. I would stay on one side of the bridge and shoot AWAY from the spectators while both teams swapped sides after each charge.
We picked up around 11 or 12 fighters while two Marshals (Countess Signy and Sir Melrakki) watched and offered critique and advice, along with Sir William. Everyone was learning and having a good time. I received numerous compliments to my accuracy and skill, which tickled me to death. It is one thing to practice with your friends and be told, “good job.” It is entirely different when a Knight you don’t know, a Countess and Fighter you admire, and people you have shot compliment your skill.
It became quickly obvious that Sir William and Sir Melrakki knew each other and had a friendly history. It became evident HOW friendly when Melrakki approached me between charges with an offer.
“I will put my money where my mouth is. I will give you $5 if you shoot that white belt in the junk.”
I immediately declined, explaining that I consider that target non-negotiable. I do not ever aim for a fighters junk. He offered again, and again I declined. “What if it was on accident?” He proposed, and I assured him that - even on accident - I did not take that shot. He nodded, accepting that I would not sway on this when he pointed at me one last time. “What about the butt?”
“Get him turned around and I’ll take that shot.”
We informed the five or six fighters I was behind of the plan, and they were all good naturedly in agreement. The charge began, but before I could get a shot at Sir William’s target, another fighter took him out. When the fighting was done, he approached the man and congratulated him on a well thrown blow, to which I declared, “No, not well done! That guy cost me $5!”
After we explained that I was promised money for an arrow to the butt, Sir William offered to let me earn it by trying to land an arrow on him while he stood defending with only his sword. We practiced this pretty regularly in demos, so I knew that I had little chance of actually hitting him if he had his undivided attention on my arrows. I agreed, anyway, and he moved to one end of the bridge, and I the other. After three or four shots to the grill and throat that he deflected, I dropped my aim and landed an arrow to his stomach, just above his bellybutton.
He called good, and stepped over to me to show that I had dented one of the buttons on his fighting coat. Not only that, but in his rush to armor and not be late for the battle, he hadn’t but on any body armor. He now had a welt that looked like a second bellybutton just above his own. After apologizing profusely (and his assuring me it was a well landed shot and to be proud - he was the one who hadn’t worn body armor and deserved every bruise and welt because of it) we cheerfully went on our way back to camp to shower and relax before dinner.
Just before nightfall, Sir Melrakki appeared in our camp, retold the story of our wager, and announced himself a man of his word. “I know in my heart, after watching her skill, that if he had turned around, she would have landed that shot. And so here is your $5.”
Still feeling bad that I had damaged both my friend and his property, and not feeling right about taking the money when I hadn’t actually landed the shot, I responded, “I will do you one better. They are collecting non-perishables again this year for an outreach in the area. Take this money and donate it to the Paladin’s Pantry on behalf of Sir William of Nunn’s butt.”
Sir Melrakki promised that it would be done, and we all had an amazing laugh at the whole exchange.
Tonight, at practice, Sir William approached me and said simply, “I have a gift for you.” He pressed into my hand the dented button. “Carry it with you as a token. You earned it.”
I looked at the button and felt a twinge of guilt. But then I smiled and decided that I would string it and wear it around my neck as Sir William had suggested - as a token reminder that I slayed a Knight, that I held to my standard, and that in the end this is a game, and you always win when you’re having fun.
Not to mention it makes a HELL of a good story.
