7 Myths About Archery in Fantasy & an Excerpt from The Moonstone

Katryl, the main character of my NaNoWriMo 2015 project entitled The Moonstone, excels at archery. But the techniques that I describe her using in my book are not the sort of techniques you'll hear about in Hollywood, because, as it turns out, Hollywood has got it wrong. When ancient peoples used bows and arrows, they developed techniques that work while you are moving, riding a horse, and in the heat of an actual battle. Here is the video that helped me discover some of these techniques:

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While these techniques were helpful in informing my viewpoint, this response to Lars Anderson's video helped me to gain an even deeper understanding of the techniques involved.

I did some research on archery in the "olden days," when people used bows instead of guns. Here are some busted myths and important facts about bows:

• Bowstrings don't work in rain. That scene with the super-accurate elf archers in the rain at Helm's Deep? In real life, those bowstrings would have given a few flabby twangs and the arrows would have nosedived far short of their targets. Just sayin'.
• Bowstrings wear out. They were made of catgut, which was the cured intestines of the animals that people commonly ate. Eventually, through damp and use, they would wear out and lose their tension.
• Bows have to be unstrung, or the bow would lose its power or even break.
• Bows take strength to string. Remember that story of Odysseus and the test that required Penelope's suitor to be able to string Odysseus' bow and shoot an arrow through a row of axe-heads? Depending on the strength and draw-weight of the bow, it could be very difficult to string.
• Bows took a long time to make. A well-made bow could take up to seven years to dry properly to be shaped.
• Bows can't be drawn indefinitely. You can't hold the arrow nocked and drawn for more than a minute or two. When I did archery, I'd start shaking after more than a few breaths and I lost control of accuracy.
• Longbows were not as common as self-bows, which were shorter and better for carrying through dense forest.

Excerpt from The Moonstone

The horse followed the old woman and Katryl to the treeline, blowing softly, his sides sleek with sweat. Katryl helped to seat Alaya on the ground, where the old woman struggled for breath.

“It’s been a long time,” the older woman murmured, adding with a rueful smile, “I forgot how much it hurts one’s buttocks and legs.”

Katryl laughed aloud. “That is why Lassgardans ride and Dashani run.”

She leaned her head against the bark of a tree and closed her eyes momentarily. After she had regained her breath, she laid her bow across her lap and inspected it, then lifted her bow arm and drew back the bowstring.

“Dragon’s teeth!” she hissed.

“What is it?” Alaya asked.

“I missed the Onikan watchman the first time I shot, and the second time, I hit his kidney when I aimed at his throat. The bow is well, but the string is worn and has lost its tension. It must have been exposed to the dampness. They should have wrapped it in oilskin. The bow is useless until I can replace the string.”

“I am sorry,” Alaya said. “Thou hast thy short sword?”

“And if it is wet too, it will rust.” Katryl sighed and shook her head, stretching her legs before her. “But I am too tired to care.”

The horse wuffed gently at Katryl’s hands, coating her fingers with saliva.

“What does it want?” Katryl asked, eying the animal suspiciously.

“Water, I suspect,” Alaya answered. “Let it go. It will find water and return.”

“I want water,” Katryl said wistfully, and watched the horse’s departure with heavy-lidded eyes.

It seemed only a few minutes later when the snap of a twig startled Katryl from a struggling sleep. She was halfway to her feet before she saw that the man who approached was too tall and too dark-skinned to be Onikan.

“Asleep? Already?” Edric asked, approaching at a brisk pace. “Where is the horse?”

“Seeking water,” Katryl replied, her voice cracked with fatigue, attempting to look less sleepy than she felt.

Edric stooped to touch Alaya’s shoulder. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy,” Alaya answered, rousing. “And sore. But well enough for whatever thou requirest of me.”

“Rest a little for now,” Edric said and crouched, balancing on the balls of his feet. Sweat dripped from the end of his nose and he uncorked a water-skin, taking a long draught to refresh his parched lips. Then, observing the intensity of Katryl’s gaze upon him, he offered the skin to her and she drank it dry.

“The bow?” he asked, indicating the weapon that lay across her lap.

“It needs a new string. That’s why I missed.”

“Perhaps.”
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His skeptical tone rankled and Katryl replied with finality, “I don’t miss.”

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