"...okay. Give me those." Rembrandt holds out a hand for the plastic arrows. "Let's see how you do with a longbow." 

He retrieves his own from a long leather case behind the box. He wouldn't normally lend that out to a newcomer, but Iomedae's form was clearly longbow form - pushing the wood outwards from her chest rather than just pulling the string back, not holding the draw for a moment longer than needed because she is used to a much heavier draw weight, a sideways stance that could incorporate a bow as tall as she is - and he's mildly irritated at Joy for bothering him with questions like what if she accidentally shoots herself in the face or something because she's not aiming. 

"Joy says you don't have good English. You understand borrowing? This is my longbow, you can borrow it and borrow these six arrows?" 

(In the background, Joy is hesitating because there's still one person searching for a lost arrow in the long grass. "Might be time to give up on that one, Josh," she calls downrange. "You can find it later!")

God is good and America is good and everything is beautiful. "Borrowing is, your bow you buyed, you are good and generous, I care very good and give you say give?"

(Atlantia is the nation being good here. They may be on American soil, but handing out medieval weaponry is Atlantian hospitality.)

"...yes. My bow I made. You give it back after shooting it." Rembrandt is a stern-looking elderly man and fairly brusque even when he's trying to be nice, but he can't help being mildly charmed by Iomedae immediately calling him good and generous and promising very good care of his bow.

"Don't worry if you break the arrows. They're consumables - disposable - ah, darn it, long words. They break easy."

And he'll step back to keep an eye on Joy and Iomedae at the same time. 

"Thank you, sir," she says very seriously. She is glowing.

An she will take the bow and straddle the line and wait for Joy to give them all permission to fire.

Joy waits until Josh has given up on his lost arrow and moved back behind the line before shouting, "Is the range clear?"

The range is clear. 

She isn't as naturally loud as Rembrandt and doesn't quite have his ability to project, so she has to shout a little, but she's perfectly understandable. "Range clear! Archers, straddle the line! You may fire at will!" 

Iomedae nocks an arrow and draws the good bow and fires. It's not a child's bow at all. It's also not a grown man's bow - well, it's an elderly man's bow - but it would be outright ungrateful to complain of that. You could probably fight a monster, with this. 

The first shot isn't very good, but four of the next five hit their targets. She does not pause when the bow's drawn at all, and doesn't wait very long between shots either. She's once again the first done.

(Iomedae when she arrived with her mother was quiet and jumpy and simultaneously deferential and combative. Iomedae holding a longbow is uncomplicatedly happy and whole and content. She's not even particularly good with a bow, compared to her father, but she knows how to use it and she knows what it's for and she gets better at it by doing it and she is as good as a young man' good enough no one'd doubt you'd want her if there was trouble, and that's enough -)

"Hmm." Rembrandt gazes thoughtfully at the arrows in the targets and abruptly turns around and goes to Jenny.

"You're her mother, right? She clearly knows what she's doing." 

"I'm her foster mother! She really likes these SCA events, it's so nice of you all to put them together."

"I'm glad she likes it." Okay, so Jenny probably doesn't know where Iomedae learned to shoot. He won't bother asking and will skip directly to his point. "Are you okay with her entering the competition? She'd need your permission but I think she can shoot a royal round." 

"I don't know what that is but I bet she'd be really excited to!"

"It's the standard competition format. She shoots several rounds for accuracy and a timed round. We have to have your permission if she's shooting in the adult category. She just shot quite passably with a bow that a fifteen-year-old girl shouldn't even be able to draw comfortably, and I think she's going to take a few overconfident young men down several pegs." 

"Well, it's not like anyone's shooting at her, right? They're just scored against each other?"

"Just scored against each other. I don't think there's any combat archery scenarios planned today. We only shoot people with blunt arrows once they're authorised for melees." 

"Then it seems entirely all right if she wants to compete against adults. And I bet she will want to, she really loves this stuff."

"Great, thanks!"

Rembrandt walks back to Iomedae. "Do you understand - competition, tournament, rankings?" 

"No, sir, I not know competition, tournament, rankings."

"Okay. Today you can shoot just for fun, if you want, or you can try to shoot better than other people to win a prize. That's a competition. If you like, you can test how good you are at shooting, and we can figure out what your ranking should be - that means how good you are compared to other people - and you get a badge for how good you are. So people know you're not a beginner. Do you want to do that?" 

" - I want to do that!!"

"Alright. So we're gonna have you shoot a royal round. That means we use these targets - this way." He walks with Iomedae over to the right end of the range, where there are modern five-ring targets set up at twenty, thirty and forty yards. Each has rings of white, black, blue, red and gold.

"You get six arrows to shoot the first target, then six to shoot the second, then six to shoot the third. Then we do a timed round where you have thirty seconds to shoot as many as you can. Five points if you hit yellow, four for red, three for blue, two for black and one for white. That make sense?"

They're still waiting for others to be done before Iomedae can retrieve arrows. 

"I do not know English sir but - shoot better is better, I know that?" Iomedae hasn't seen a painted-rings target before but the concept is obvious - you try to hit the center, and the painted rings make it apparent how much you missed by so that you can adjust your aim. It is clever and it makes sense the way few things in America make sense. It is clear why you would invent it and how people would be served by it.

"You understand six?" Rembrandt shows her six fingers. 

“Six.” It sounds like the Spanish so she actually does remember that one, though she can’t count to it. “Six arrows.” 

"Yes. After we retrieve arrows, you can shoot six arrows at this close target. Don't change targets until after you shot six, okay?"

"Last arrow!" Joy calls. 

"Six, at this target." For a contest of skill, in which she can show that she can shoot as a man can. Her face is full of determination and she is holding the bow like it is the most precious thing she's ever touched.

"Yes. And you take as long as you like to shoot them. Later we have a timed round, but not this round."

Joy calls, "Bows down! Retrieve arrows!"

Rembrandt gestures for Iomedae to go fetch his arrows back. "If any are broken, just show me, I'll replace them."