The Arrow’s Flight: A Lady’s Secret

In 12th century England, Lady Eleanor balances noble duties with a hidden passion for archery. A visiting knight sparks dreams of adventure, challenging her to reconcile duty and desire.

As the first light of dawn crept through the narrow window of her chamber, Lady Eleanor de Lacy stirred from her slumber. The cool morning air nipped at her cheeks, a stark contrast to the warmth of her fur-lined blankets. With a soft sigh, she pushed herself up, her long chestnut hair falling in tangled waves around her face. Today would be like any other day at Ludlow Castle, or so she thought.

Eleanor swung her legs over the edge of her bed, her bare feet touching the cold stone floor. She shivered, quickly slipping them into the soft leather slippers waiting nearby. As she moved to her washing basin, she caught a glimpse of herself in the polished metal mirror. At sixteen, she was no longer a child, but not quite a woman. Her green eyes, so like her father’s, stared back at her, filled with a mixture of determination and longing.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her musings. “My lady?” came the gentle voice of her maid, Agnes.

“Enter,” Eleanor called, turning from the mirror.

Agnes bustled in, her arms laden with fresh linens and a simple gown of deep blue wool. “Good morrow, Lady Eleanor. I trust you slept well?”

Eleanor nodded, allowing Agnes to help her dress for the day ahead. As the maid laced up the back of her gown, Eleanor’s mind wandered to the tasks that awaited her. There were linens to be checked, menus to be approved, and endless needlework to be done. But beneath it all, a secret excitement bubbled within her.

“Will that be all, my lady?” Agnes asked, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

Eleanor hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes, thank you, Agnes. You may go.”

As soon as the door closed behind her maid, Eleanor moved swiftly to her bed. Kneeling beside it, she reached underneath and pulled out a small, cloth-wrapped bundle. With trembling fingers, she unwrapped it, revealing a simple wooden bow and a handful of arrows.

She had borrowed the bow from Tom, the stable boy, swearing him to secrecy. For weeks now, she had been sneaking out to practice whenever she could find a moment alone. It was unladylike, she knew, but the thrill of drawing the bowstring, of watching the arrow fly true to its mark, was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Carefully rewrapping the bow, Eleanor hid it once more beneath her bed. She couldn’t risk being caught with it now. With a deep breath, she straightened her gown and left her chamber, ready to face the day ahead.

The Lady’s Duties

The morning passed in a flurry of activity. Eleanor moved through the castle with purpose, overseeing the changing of linens in the guest chambers, approving the menu for the evening’s feast, and inspecting the stores of candles and rushes. Her mother, Lady Rohese, watched her with a critical eye, quick to point out any oversights.

“Eleanor, child, you must pay closer attention,” Lady Rohese chided as Eleanor accidentally knocked over a stack of freshly folded napkins. “A lady must be graceful and attentive at all times.”

Eleanor bit back a retort, instead murmuring an apology as she bent to retrieve the fallen linens. Her mother’s constant criticism grated on her nerves, but she knew better than to argue. As the only daughter of Hugh de Lacy, Lord of Ludlow, she was expected to be the perfect noblewoman, preparing for the day she would make an advantageous marriage and run her own household.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Eleanor found herself in the solar with her mother and several other ladies of the castle. The air was thick with the scent of beeswax candles and the soft murmur of conversation as the women bent over their needlework.

Eleanor’s fingers moved mechanically over her embroidery, her mind far from the delicate stitches she was creating. Instead, she imagined herself out in the practice yard, bow in hand, the satisfying thud of arrows hitting their target echoing in her ears.

“Eleanor!” Her mother’s sharp voice snapped her back to reality. “Your stitches are crooked. Unpick them and start again.”

With a sigh, Eleanor set about undoing her work. As she did so, she caught sight of the castle’s practice yard through the window. A group of young squires were training, their shouts and the clash of wooden swords drifting up to where she sat. Her heart ached with envy.

A Secret Pursuit

As the afternoon wore on, Eleanor found her chance. Her mother had retired to her chambers with a headache, leaving Eleanor free from her watchful gaze. Without hesitation, she hurried to her room, retrieving the hidden bow and slipping out through a little-used servants’ passage.

The air outside was crisp and invigorating after the stuffy confines of the solar. Eleanor made her way swiftly to a secluded corner of the castle grounds, hidden from view by a stand of ancient oak trees. Here, she had set up a makeshift target — a bale of straw with a crude painted circle.

With practiced movements, she nocked an arrow and drew the bowstring back to her cheek. For a moment, she held perfectly still, feeling the tension in the bow, the wind on her face. Then she released, the arrow flying true and burying itself in the centre of the target with a satisfying thud.

A grin spread across Eleanor’s face as she nocked another arrow. This was where she felt truly alive, truly herself. Here, she wasn’t Lady Eleanor, future wife and mother. She was simply Eleanor, strong and capable, master of her own destiny.

Arrow after arrow found its mark as Eleanor lost herself in the rhythm of draw, aim, and release. She was so engrossed that she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until it was almost too late.

“Eleanor? Are you out here?”

The voice of her mother sent a jolt of panic through Eleanor. Hastily, she gathered up her bow and arrows, looking around frantically for a place to hide them. In her haste, she pricked her finger on an arrowhead, a drop of blood welling up on her skin.

“I’m here, Mother!” she called out, her voice higher than usual. She shoved the bow and arrows behind the straw bale just as Lady Rohese rounded the corner of the oak grove.

“What are you doing out here?” her mother demanded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Eleanor straightened, trying to look nonchalant despite her racing heart. “I was just… taking some air, Mother. The solar was so stuffy, and I needed to clear my head.”

Lady Rohese’s gaze swept over the clearing, lingering for a moment on the straw bale with its tell-tale arrow marks. Eleanor held her breath, certain she would be discovered. But after a long moment, her mother simply sighed.

“Well, come along then. It’s time you were dressed for the feast. We have important guests arriving, and I won’t have you looking like a wild thing.”

Relieved but guilty, Eleanor followed her mother back to the castle. She would have to retrieve her bow later, and she sent up a silent prayer that no one would discover it in the meantime.

The Feast

The Great Hall of Ludlow Castle was alive with light and sound as Eleanor entered, freshly bathed and dressed in her finest gown of deep green silk. Torches flickered in their sconces, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and sweet spices.

At the high table, her father, Lord Hugh, sat in animated conversation with a group of knights. Among them was a face Eleanor didn’t recognise — a young man, perhaps a few years older than herself, with golden hair and piercing blue eyes. As she approached, he looked up, their gazes meeting for a brief moment. Eleanor felt her cheeks warm, and she quickly looked away.

“Ah, Eleanor!” her father boomed, noticing her approach. “Come, my dear. Allow me to introduce Sir William de Braose. He’s just arrived from the Welsh Marches with news for us.”

Eleanor curtsied gracefully, her eyes flicking back to the young knight. “Welcome to Ludlow, Sir William,” she murmured.

Sir William stood, bowing deeply. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Eleanor. Your father speaks most highly of you.”

As Eleanor took her seat, she couldn’t help but steal glances at Sir William throughout the meal. He was everything a young knight should be — handsome, well-spoken, and clearly brave if the tales he told of skirmishes with Welsh raiders were to be believed.

As the feast progressed and the wine flowed freely, Eleanor found herself drawn into conversation with Sir William. He spoke of his travels, of the wonders he had seen in London and beyond. Eleanor listened, enraptured, her own small world of Ludlow Castle seeming to expand with every word.

“And what of you, Lady Eleanor?” Sir William asked, his blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “What pursuits occupy your days here at Ludlow?”

Eleanor hesitated, her mind flashing to her secret archery practice. “Oh, the usual ladylike pursuits,” she said lightly. “Embroidery, music, overseeing the household…”

Sir William leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “And is that all? I’ve heard whispers that the ladies of Ludlow are made of sterner stuff. That they have… hidden talents.”

Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat. Could he know about her archery? But no, that was impossible. She forced a laugh, taking a sip of wine to hide her discomfort. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Sir William. We are quite ordinary here at Ludlow.”

The knight smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. “Somehow, Lady Eleanor, I doubt that very much.”

Before Eleanor could respond, her mother’s voice cut through the din of the feast. “Eleanor! Come, child. It’s time we retired and left the men to their discussions.”

With a mixture of relief and regret, Eleanor stood, curtsying to Sir William and the other knights. As she followed her mother from the hall, she couldn’t resist one last glance over her shoulder. Sir William was watching her go, a small smile playing on his lips.

Dreams of Adventure

That night, as Eleanor lay in her bed, sleep eluded her. Her mind whirled with the events of the day — the thrill of her secret archery practice, the narrow escape from discovery, and the unexpected excitement of meeting Sir William.

She thought of the stories he had told, of battles and tournaments, of distant lands and grand adventures. A part of her longed to experience such things for herself, to break free from the confines of her prescribed life as a noblewoman.

But another part of her, the practical part that had been instilled by years of her mother’s teachings, knew that such dreams were foolish. Her path was set — she would marry a man of her father’s choosing, bear children, and run a household. There was no room in that future for bows and arrows, for adventures beyond the castle walls.

And yet… the memory of Sir William’s knowing smile lingered in her mind. Had he truly heard rumours of the ladies of Ludlow having hidden talents? Or had he somehow sensed something in her, some spark of the unconventional that she tried so hard to hide?

Eleanor turned restlessly in her bed, her thoughts a jumble of conflicting desires and expectations. As she finally drifted off to sleep, her dreams were filled with images of herself, bow in hand, riding alongside Sir William on grand adventures, free from the constraints of her noble birth.

A New Day Dawns

The next morning dawned bright and clear, full of promise. As Eleanor dressed for the day ahead, she made a decision. She would find a way to balance her duties as a lady with her secret passions. Perhaps she couldn’t openly pursue archery or dream of adventures, but she could nurture that part of herself in private.

And who knew what the future might hold? With Sir William’s arrival, it felt as though a window had opened, offering a glimpse of a wider world. Eleanor might be the daughter of Hugh de Lacy, bound by the expectations of her station, but she was also herself — strong, capable, and filled with untapped potential.

As she left her chamber to begin her daily tasks, Eleanor’s steps were light, a small, secret smile playing on her lips. The bow might be hidden beneath her bed, but its presence was a constant reminder of who she truly was. And one day, perhaps, she would find a way to let that true self shine.

For now, though, there were linens to check, a household to run, and a mysterious young knight to observe. Eleanor squared her shoulders and stepped out into the bustling corridor, ready to face whatever challenges the day might bring.

Bob Lynn / 16-Sep-2024