Imagine a river, at dawn, touched by the rising sun. A young man lingers in the woods at the river’s edge, lifts his bow and fires an arrow at a wild deer on the far bank.  As the arrow flies low, a salmon leaps and is hit, falls back, dead, in the water.

The Lord of the Manor of Tickenhill had only one child, a daughter, Honour, to whom he presented, on her twenty-first birthday, a silver and jade ring, which had once belonged to her mother. She loved this ring and always wore it despite the fact that it was rather loose on her slender fingers. A hot summer’s day tempted her out on to the cool waters of the River Severn. As a servant rowed the boat, she lay back on a pile of cushions trailing her hand in the water and dreaming of her lover, Rob, with whom she hoped soon to be sharing her life. Unfortunately this idyllic scene was soon shattered by her cry of ‘My ring! Oh, no! My ring!’

The strong current had dragged it from her finger and, even as she watched, it sank into the depths of the river. She rushed to her father to tell him what had happened. His response was not the anger she had expected but instead quiet words.

‘My child, you have come to tell me of one tragedy, but today I have discovered an even greater one.’
Honour went pale as her father continued.

‘I had a visit from young Rob of Horsehill Farm. He told me that you have been meeting him in secret for some time and that you want to marry.’

‘And what answer did you give?’  She stumbled over her words in her eagerness.

Her father’s voice now rose as his suppressed anger boiled over.

‘What do you think? Why, he’s hardly worthy to work in our kitchens. ‘No!’ I told him. ‘No, no, no!’’

Honour kept to her room for the next few weeks, paying hardly any attention to the order, issued by her father, saying that whoever found the lost ring could claim his daughter’s hand in marriage. She read her story books and did her sewing, all the time wondering if she’d see Rob again.

The whole neighbourhood searched the banks of the river for the missing heirloom. Local eel fishermen went out in coracles, their tiny circular boats twirling on the currents, to try their luck. Sons of noble families travelled great distances with their retainers, for the story of Honour’s beauty and wealth had spread far and wide. In fact, the river bank around Ribbesford became a proper carnival for a time, with the people shouting to their friends, the coracles afloat, and the splashing of the noblemen’s servants in the water; unlikely frogmen seeking the local princess.

The only one who went quietly about his normal business was Rob, heart-broken because he knew he’d probably never see his love again. But one morning, as he walked beside the river, among the trees, he spotted a wild deer on the opposite bank. Now the Lord of Tickenhill owned all the deer in the forest so Rob was taking a great risk in shooting at this one but, after losing Honour, he felt he had little else to lose.

It was very early because he couldn’t sleep but unable to resist such a prize, he let fly an arrow. Much to his surprise, a salmon leapt from the water right into its path. The deer ran off unhurt, but, to Rob, there was only one meal tastier than venison, and that was salmon. And so, after fetching the dead fish from the water, he returned home to his farm in a much more cheerful mood.

As he prepared the huge fish, his knife struck something hard. Parting the flesh, he exposed a glittering ring that he recognised immediately as the one lost by his beloved Honour.

It was not long before he was offering the ring to the Lord of Tickenhill and claiming his prize. In spite of her father’s wounded pride, the wedding of Honour and Rob took place a few weeks later, in the neat Norman church by the river, the bride wearing her silver and jade ring and, afterwards, they all sat down to a wedding breakfast of salmon.