sabremeister | HS&S:WT short

New Technology

"You see that falcon up there?"

"Just. What about it?"

"I bet I can hit it from here."

The second speaker looked quizzically at the first. "You what?"

The first took the bow from his shoulder and drew an arrow from the quiver at his waist. "I said, I bet I can hit that falcon with an arrow from here."

"It's over a mile away! Of course you can't!"

"Wanna bet?"

The doubter had another look at the scenery between them at the edge of the forest at the top of a ridge, and the river where the falcon was hovering, hunting the rodents that lived there. "Okay then, just under a mile. And that's as we walk, you've got to add another 100 yards straight up as well. No arrow'll reach that far."

"I bet it will."

The other shook his head. "No, it won't. I'm not betting with you on that, because it'll just mean I take your money. Your arrow'll reach maybe that tree there, and probably end up lost in the branches somewhere."

"That's what you think."

He sighed. "It's not what I think, it's common sense and bleedin' obvious! A longbow's got a range of a few hundred yards, and you don't even have one of those. That falcon's fifteen hundred yards further away than the best bow could shoot."

"Are you saying I couldn't hit that falcon with an arrow from here?"

"Yes!"

"And I'm saying I could. Stand back!" He raised his bow and nocked the arrow.

"You'll lose the arrow," muttered his companion.

The archer looked. "You're right. I would lose this arrow. Just a sec." He returned the arrow in question to his quiver and selected another one. This one's fletchings were further up the shaft, and the base was coated in some sap-like substance.

His companion looked even more doubtful. "Oh, you really will lose that arrow – look at it, it's not going to be flight-stable, and the end's covered in gunk."

"Yeah, I know. Hang on." The archer fished a slip of a rough, gritty, bit of fine cloth around the haft of the bow, holding it it place with his hand.

"And that'll fuck up how it flies even more."

The archer just smiled at his companion. He raised the bow and pulled back the string, keeping the arrow away from the string with his fingers. When he was satisfied with his aim, he very carefully rested the arrow against the string. "Now, this may not work," he told the other one.

"Oh, no kidding."

The archer released the string. As the base of the arrow went past the haft, the sap-like substance scraped against the gritty piece of cloth, and with a rasping sound, burst into flame. The arrow shot forward at an incredible rate, disappearing into the distance. The archer affected a pose of nonchalant peering after his shot, while his doubtful companion stood gobsmacked. After a few seconds, the distant speck of the falcon twitched in the air, and plummeted a hundred feet before flying slowly, and lopsidedly away.

"Well, fuck me."

The archer looked at his companion with a smug grin. "No thanks, you're not my type."

"How the fuck did you manage that?" his companion demanded. "Have you been talking to that mad alchemist again?"

"Yeah, as it happens." They started forward, heading for the river, possibly in the vague hope of finding the arrow or where the falcon ended up. "He's found this new substance which burns in air. You have to keep it underwater to stop it burning. Apparently, one of his first attempts made a jar fly round the room with white flame coming out of it."

"White flame?"

"Yeah. Not for long, he said, but enough to give him the idea. It took him a couple of months to perfect the process, but he says he can now make arrows like that every day. He's got this long drill he uses to hollow out hardwood arrows, then he fills the tube he just made with this substance under water, and covers the top in wax, which he seals on with sap, laced with more of the stuff. Then he adds the fletchings himself, and presto – one super-fast, long-range arrow! Thirty dollars."

"Thirty dollars! You spent a week's pay on an arrow which you're probably never going to see again? You idiot!"

"No I didn't. He gave it me to test, see how far and how fast it went properly. He's only tested it in his workshop, and there's not a lot of space there."

"Well no. So he gave it you? An arrow worth a week's pay, just to see what it could do?"

"Yeah. He gave me the rough cloth as well, to rasp off the seal so the stuff'd burn. And it worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did," his companion admitted. "That Fossva's a bloody lunatic!"