From the treeline, young Roland Inness watches in mute horror as his father is murdered by the local lord’s son, who believe him to be in possession of a longbow that poached a deer. Roland himself wields that bow, and he uses it to strike back against these royal bullies, making himself an outlaw in the process. Fleeing north, pursued by a mercenary, he encounters an opportunity for shelter and service, one that will bring him to London to observe the coronation of King Richard — but there, too, he’ll find the past waiting for him. Longbow is my second book by Wayne Grant, and a rollicking fun bit of medieval adventure it is, complete with a friar named Tuck. Roland is an instantly sympathetic character — a poor orphan whose only crime was trying to eat, laden with guilt over his father’s dead and driven on by a thirst for revenge. The supporting characters are a fine crew, too: a warrior-monk, a cheeky Irish squire who becomes Roland’s friend, a young lady with mischievous wit, and nobles great and gross. As with No King, No Country, there’s a solid current of activity here that’s nicely balanced — not too frantic, but never slow, and varied. The ending is especially fun, culminating with an archery contest in which a certain Robin of Loxley is present, and Grant works in a fair bit of historical detail — though not as much as Cornwell or Ben Kane might. Given the age of the protagonist, and the lack of overly graphic violence or language, this might be intended for teen audiences, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. From the descriptions of other books in the series, it looks like Roland’s vengeance will continue to dog him.

At this distance, there could be no doubt as to the identity of the leader. Roland paused for a moment. This was no roebuck he was stalking—it was a man. The church said that vengeance was the provenance of God. “This is not church,” he muttered to himself. The boy drew the longbow smoothly, sighted and released in a fluid motion.

“My lady,” said Roland gravely, “our little man seems to have transformed himself into a…hedgehog.” The girl gave him a withering look.
“It’s well known the wee folk have magical powers,” added Declan sincerely.

“Lad, I’ve been a soldier longer than you’ve been alive and I’ve never seen shooting like that.” The King spoke with genuine admiration in his voice. “Where’d you learn?” “From my father, your grace,” Roland replied, through his nervousness.
“Aye, I learned a thing or two from my own sire!” the King said. Considering the civil war he had recently fought with his late father, no one laughed at his joke.