War of the Rift

  It was the October of 1414, just before Saint Crispin's Day. William Leverage had decided to poach himself one of Lord Edward's deer. For two hours he had crept through the birch forest, stalking the large prey, waiting for a moment when the deer would stop long enough for William to nock a broadhead and send it whistling deathwards into the rump of the unlucky hind. A few more moments of stalking saw the hind stop, lower its head and begin to graze. William grinned. Sliding a broadhead out of his quiver, he laid it as silently as he could over the yew stave and nocked the arrow. Swinging the bow upright, he slowly stood up, the strain in his knees as strong as ever. Curling three fingers around the bowstring, he began to pull.

  "Oi! Rogue!" A voice sounded through the woods. With a sharp rustling of the leaves, the deer disapppeared. William cursed and looked around for the source of the voice. A mounted man, dressed in a surcoat bearing Lord Edward's green standard of two snarling lions and an oak branch. He shouted again.

  "You've committed a crime against Lord Edward and the people of his fief! Hunt you down I must, lest you poach another of his deer!" With that the man spurred his horse and started toward William. William started to run, but slipped in the mud before getting very far.,