Post by Svetovida Sviatislav on Jul 4, 2016 19:22:09 GMT
Ivaylo was sat on a small hillock outside Rome. He was relaxing and eating whilst he waited for the Romans to make their reply. It was a windy day, the sun was hidden and there was an iron tang in the air which served as a portent for rain. The wind was whipping banners and scaring horses. But Ivaylo paid little attention to events taking place around him, something had caught his eye, and his imagination.
Some thirty feet away stood a long Yew tree. It was being bent by the wind, and it was bending quite far. But it did not break, in fact, when the wind paused the tree snapped back into place and sent a birds nest soaring from its branches and into the air.
"Bring me an axe!" Ivaylo stood up and walked towards the tree, clutching the hatchet that had been handed to him. His men watched as Ivaylo quickly felled the tree and stripped the bark and branches from the trunk.
"Bring me the carpenters and the bow makers." Ivaylo carried the log into his tent and was not seen for hours. When he did emerge he was followed by the various master craftsmen he had called. In his hands was a roughly hewn bow, but not a small composite bow for use on horseback. This bow was six and a half feet long and unfurnished. It was strung with a long hide string which was completely taught. Ivaylo raised the bow and nocked an arrow, he drew it back to his cheek (with a great deal of difficulty, even for such a strong man). He released the arrow and sent it whistling through the air and into the tree stump, where it planted with an audible thump.
The Slavs will now begin harvesting Yew logs for bow making. After several hours of shooting, cracks begin to show in Ivaylo's bow and during one round of shooting it shatters. The craftsmen come to the conclusion that the wood is strong and good for men on foot, but that it must be bent into shape over a longer period of time.
Some thirty feet away stood a long Yew tree. It was being bent by the wind, and it was bending quite far. But it did not break, in fact, when the wind paused the tree snapped back into place and sent a birds nest soaring from its branches and into the air.
"Bring me an axe!" Ivaylo stood up and walked towards the tree, clutching the hatchet that had been handed to him. His men watched as Ivaylo quickly felled the tree and stripped the bark and branches from the trunk.
"Bring me the carpenters and the bow makers." Ivaylo carried the log into his tent and was not seen for hours. When he did emerge he was followed by the various master craftsmen he had called. In his hands was a roughly hewn bow, but not a small composite bow for use on horseback. This bow was six and a half feet long and unfurnished. It was strung with a long hide string which was completely taught. Ivaylo raised the bow and nocked an arrow, he drew it back to his cheek (with a great deal of difficulty, even for such a strong man). He released the arrow and sent it whistling through the air and into the tree stump, where it planted with an audible thump.
The Slavs will now begin harvesting Yew logs for bow making. After several hours of shooting, cracks begin to show in Ivaylo's bow and during one round of shooting it shatters. The craftsmen come to the conclusion that the wood is strong and good for men on foot, but that it must be bent into shape over a longer period of time.