Robin Hardy's Abbey Lands
Let's Get Real
Face it: with faeries, trolls, Leviathans, and giants, this series is obviously fantasy. To make sure it is grounded in shared human experience, I made the plots focus mainly on relationships between the characters. In addition to that, however, I touched on historical or factual points wherever I could. Let me show you what I mean by the examples below.
In Book 3, Lord Efran at the Flood, a major plot point involves the Passage overflowing its banks. This map shows why the possibility is a big concern for Westford, the Abbey Lands, and numerous small towns and villages in the area. The flooding comes at a critical moment in the story. Afterward, Efran asks the notary Ryal, "Was that a miracle?“
​Ryal replies, "No, in that the Passage has flooded regularly in the past, and as I told you, was overdue to flood again. Yes, in the timing. The miracle was in the timing of a natural event. That was no coincidence.”
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​My end note to Book 3 says, "In discussing the parting of the Jordan River so that Joshua could lead the people of Israel into Canaan (Josh. 3:14-17) , commentator Harold Lindsell observes, 'This miracle (or special providential act) may have been one of timing in which an earthquake blocked the river. As recently as 1927 a tremor dislodged some of the cliffs overlooking the river, completely blocking the Jordan for over 21 hours.' (Harper Study Bible, Zondervan Bible Publishers, Grand Rapids, MI, 1980)"
Whether you believe or not that the Jordan was blocked in this manner for the Israelites to cross over, the fact remains that, historically, it has happened. Therefore, I allowed a similar coincidence of timing for the Landers.
Several books in the series mention the incredible acoustics of the switchback on the Abbey hill. By the time I got to Book 9 Lord Efran and the Provision for a Wronged Husband, I finally ran across the explanation for this phenomenon. As I mentioned in the end notes:
"The acoustics of the Abbey hill are due to the hill’s plentiful limestone with which the switchback was constructed:
'Mystery of Greek Amphitheater’s Amazing Sound Finally Solved
'Cut the chatter! The ancient mystery surrounding the great acoustics of the theater at Epidaurus in Greece has been solved.
'The theater, dating to the 4th century B.C. and arranged in 55 semi-circular rows, remains the great masterwork of Polykleitos the Younger. Audiences of up to an estimated 14,000 have long been able to hear actors and musicians—unamplified—from even the back row of the architectural masterpiece. . . .
'[R]esearchers at the Georgia Institute of Technology have discovered that the limestone material of the seats provide a filtering effect, suppressing low frequencies of voices, thus minimizing background crowd noise. Further, the rows of limestone seats reflect high-frequencies back towards the audience, enhancing the effect.'"
At the end of Book 11 Lord Efran and Leviathan, I added this note: "Whatever you call it—
intuitive, reflexive, instinctive—aike shooting does exist. See here, here, and here (Bonus: ancient sling shots)."
While the videos are impressive, I felt that I needed some written input from archers on how they view instinctive shooting. I landed on TradTalk (a forum for archers who prefer the traditional bow to a compound bow). Here, I found some interesting comments:​
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"A good instinctive shooter has a very good photographic memory, his shot execution is better than the norm and has a lot of time in hand to develop his skills."
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"I don't aim so much as I yearn. 'You have go to get your mind right.' . . . There is no use focusing on aiming if you do not shoot well enough to hit what you are aiming at."
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"For me, the most important part of the instinctive shot comes before the shot. I'll look at the target and sort of imagine the shot. I imagine the whole shot; how it will feel, my form, the path of the arrow and the perfect bullseye. Then I do it just like that. It surprises me how accurate I can be with it sometimes. I don’t really know, consciously, what-all is going on...and probably don’t need to."
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"In shotgunning, your mount is critical. If you mount the gun wrong, you may as well not pull the trigger. That is the same as having consistent form in archery. Otherwise, both are shot instinctively at normal ranges. Look where you want the arrow to go and feel it go. There's a lot going on, but if you think about it you will mess it up. That's why it's called instinctive."​
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"First, it is not true instinct; that is just a metaphor that has been used for a very long time. . . . Now back to 'aiming' in archery and another main point: left/accuracy has to be set up by the left, the conscious mind. You have to adjust your posture, anchor and the tune of your tackle to shoot down the target line. No aiming off to the side. Practice that until it feels instinctive.
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"All that is left is the elevation and the execution. You have to turn that over to the subconscious. And you have to send the conscious off someplace else or it will try to take over and screw things up. Seriously! You have to do that. You have to allow, empower and encourage the subconscious to fling the rock, the ball, the body, the vehicle or the body and trust it to do what it does so well. No cheating; no peeking!
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"Numbers guys have trouble with this, accountants, engineers, mathematicians. . . . Children and women learn it easily; some guys you cannot tell anything. You know who you are. But an apt male pupil can sometimes get the hang of it it 15 minutes. If you can get your mind right it is easy."
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So it appears that serious archers take the concept of intuitive shooting as a given. Aike is real.
In Book 14 Lord Efran and the Provision for Wronged Human, Efran goes to the keep to look for help against another threat:
"Looking up to the window above the crucifix, he turned to fix on the morning light streaming in to illumine the first part of the Scripture engraved on a panel embedded in the stone wall: 'For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from Him.' As the sun progressed across the sky, the verses farther down were illumined until, by the end of the day, the whole passage had been lit. Then the following morning, the process began again from the top. As long as you continued to look, you would see and remember the whole thing. It was as inevitable as the sun’s progress across the sky."
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In writing this, I drew inspiration from the Salone at Padua: "On entering the door into the Salone, look up at the wall behind you, the south wall and you’ll see part of a ‘calendar' which is in the form of a golden sun that lets the sun shine through the mouth (otherwise known as a pinhole gnomon) from which the resulting ray of sunlight shines a small circle of light on the floor of the hall. At midday each day, the sunbeam crosses a long graduated meridian line set into the floor in 1761 by Bartolomeo Ferracina. This combination is essentially a sundial; not one that tells the hours of day, but only when it is midday – and the day of the year.
"This arrangement of pinhole gnomon and meridian line – a long line on a north-south alignment – forms a perfectly accurate calendar. The point where the small disc of sunlight crosses the black line indicates the day of the year, which is indicated in a scale alongside the meridian line. At the winter solstice it crosses this black, meridian line at one end and through the year, as the sun changes position in the sky and over 6 months, this crossing point moves to the other end of the meridian line when at the summer solstice – and then travels back again to the winter position over the next 6 months." (Text and photos courtesy of Italian Reflections)
In Book 18 Lord Efran and the Insurrection, Efran receives such a blow to his head that his skull is broken. He falls into an opening in the Abbey hill, where he remains for several days while no one can find him. When he emerges, he is taken to the doctor, Wallace, who discovers that he has a metal plate fitted into his skull.
​​If this sounds unlikely for the time frame, have a look at this article in the National Post: "Metal plate fused to 2,000-year-old Peruvian warrior's skull proof of early surgery" with the accompanying photo (courtesy of Skeletons Museum of Osteology).
The article says, "The man returned from battle with a broken skull that ancient surgeons bound with a metal plate, according to the Oklahoma Osteology Museum.
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"The damage was such that the Peruvian healers were compelled to seal the fracture or leave the wounded man with permanent injuries. The warrior is believed to have survived the miraculous procedure — without the use of modern anesthesia or sterilization techniques — experts told Daily Star: 'Based on the broken bone surrounding the repair, you can see that it’s tightly fused together. It was a successful surgery.'"
Speaking of skeletons. . . .
Click here to open the Notes.
In Book 31 Lord Efran in the Tide of Time, he receives another head injury which renders him unable to comprehend speech or writing, and unable to speak or write himself:
"Dinner was a special kind of hell. This had always been Efran’s favorite part of the day, when he could talk and laugh with friends and fellow soldiers over good (or often mediocre) food. But now conversations around him sounded like rocks being broken or a wild ox thrashing through the woods. Women’s voices were screeching fingernails on slate or pottery crashing to the floor; men’s voices were a combination of drumbeats, barking, clattering, and the shrieks of a roomful of lunatics. Even Minka, with the voice of a nightingale, was incomprehensible."
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I didn't intend this to have any application beyond the story—in fact, I never planned out the plots; I just wrote down what came. But after reading this, I realized that I had described my own experience at dinners, given my severe hearing loss. Hearing aids only amplify the babble.
I debated whether to put this piece here or in Funny Short Bits. Anyway, in this excerpt from Book 17 Lord Efran and the Featheringham Ladies, he gets word that his daughter Ella has finally decided to marry the man Efran favored for her, an archer by the name of Quennel.
"Before dinner, Minka had been able to warn Efran not to make much of Ella and Quennel’s getting married. So when they arrived in the dining hall, he merely kissed Ella’s head and patted Quennel on the shoulder. Many others came by their table to congratulate the pair, which attention Ella received graciously, as nothing was expected of her but to look happy. She did that easily.
"Minka allowed herself only to wink at her, which also was well received. Quennel caught it, and narrowed his eyes in speculation of how much she might have had to do with Ella’s sudden willingness to get it done. Minka looked off innocently; since Ella was not talking, no one could prove anything. Thus Minka’s days-old record of not being a busybody was unblemished.
"That evening, Efran fell into bed with great relief over the accomplishments of the day. As he pulled her to him, Minka asked, 'Are you not a little bit sad over your daughter getting married?'
“'Oh merciful God, no,' he said, studying her in bemusement. 'I had no idea what to do with a nearly grown-up daughter; am very glad to let Quennel finish raising her.'”
“'Wha—?' She lifted up in mild umbrage. 'She’s just about the age I was when we got married.'
“'Yes, and I’ve had to finish raising you. It’s been difficult,' he complained.
“'How dare you?' she laughed, falling on him.
“‘Speak the truth in love,’ he quoted in satisfaction, wrapping her up in his arms for the night.
"He closed his eyes definitively and she snorted mildly, snuggling into him."
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The photo below is of my mother Ruth on the left and her sisters-in-law Mary and Verna. The latter has said something to make Mary laugh and Ruth almost spit out her drink. Verna is rather proud of herself, raising her brows at Ruth and resting the hand with the cigarette on her leg.
Now, all of us kids had heard Verna's husband Bob complain about having to finish raising her, as they had gotten married when she was 17 (he was at least ten years older than she). This must have made a deep impression on me, because ALL of my heroes are significantly older than my heroines. That's just how it was done. At the time of the discussion above, Efran is 28 and Minka is days away from her 17th birthday.*
*I am not explaining here how Efran at 28 can have a marriageable daughter. If you're wondering, you'll just have to read Book 10 Lord Efran and the Runaway Bride.
When I moved to this area of Texas three years ago, I was surprised by the hills and the trees. The TREES:
Above is what I see on my daily walks (my photo). I have a 60-foot-tall pet tree right outside my apartment window. And here's one of the walkways in the complex (also my photo):
With all this provocation, it's no wonder I've become obsessed. Of the 36 books in the Abbey series, six of the covers feature trees. And I've used my own photos of trees in several of the illustrations, such as this for Book 20 Lord Efran and De'Ath:
So can you blame me? I thought not. See the notes for this illustration here.
BONUS: hidden creek in the trees
My photo, of course—and I braved the poison ivy to get it.
In Book 9 Lord Efran and the Provision for a Wronged Husband, one of the books that Adele is given to read in her cavern prison happens to be from my library. Published in 1753 in London, it is titled An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting; with Proper Rules for the Exercise of That Pleasant Art.
In the first photo, you see the book (7.5 inches tall) propped up by my jester friend. The second photo is of the title page. "A. Millar in the Strand" may be the author, who addresses the First Part to the Master or Husband, etc., and the Second Part to the Wife or Friend, etc., "with some General Instructions for Plaguing all your Acquaintance." The epigraph from Shakespeare reads, "Speak daggers—but use none." The third photo is the opening of the concluding chapter.
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It says, "General rules for plaguing all your acquaintance; with the description of a party of pleasure. The part my pupils are to act in plaguing all their acquaintance, could not, with any propriety, be placed under either of the foregoing divisions, for their power, in this case arises more from custom and good breeding, than from exterior authority, or affectionate hold of the heart. . . . By all means avoid an evenness of behavior. Be, sometimes, extremely glad to see people; and, at other times, let your behavior be hardly within the rules of good breeding."
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Having read most of the book, I will confirm that the machinations it describes are pretty much timeless—but nothing new to Adele.
You could call it Chataine's Guardian 2.0