Maytag was proud of his position. He was only a minor noble, but he acted arrogant and overly proud. He did not exercise at all, and hardly even walked. The nobleman also had a hard time riding a horse. He was fat from eating too many sweets the castle chef prepared. Of course, the chef was not as good as the Redmont chef, whom Maytag had heard of. This was what had prompted his decision to move to a new fief. Maytag had five sons, who were all training for knighthood, and one daughter.

Wevlin was his oldest son, a fourth-year Battleschool apprentice of Whitby Fief. Like his father, he was proud of his position in society. He was constantly looking down at the younger apprentices, and always acted superior.

One pair of twins were both second-year apprentices. Named Herriglan and Dansford, both were already excellent at fighting, and swordsmen capable of beating most third-year apprentices.

Their younger brothers were also twins. Teglin and Teglot, who were in their first year, always managed to find a chance to boast about their family.

It just happened that the family had been visiting another fief: Redmont Fief. As Maytag talked to Baron Arald in an overbearing manner, the Baron had to make a conscious effort not to roll is eyes or sigh in exasperation. They discussed many topics, which were commonly talked about among nobles. Apparently, Maytag wanted to live in a larger, more popular fief, so he could become more popular, and was thinking of moving to Redmont. He was also interested in the food served at Castle Redmont. Continuing their discussions on Maytag's plans for moving, he hardly paid any attention to his surroundings. Unknown to Maytag, Halt the Ranger was standing only ten feet away and was quietly watching.

At about the same time, the five sons were looking for trouble because their parents were not in sight, as always. Because they were the sons of a minor noble, they liked to find peasants to boast to. As they were walking along, nearing the border of the villages, they caught sight of someone wearing a cloak with a cowl. They took note of his bow, arrows, and sword, and the four younger sons looked at the older one for orders. Each of them had their sword, all of which were inlaid with gems and precious metals.

"Go get him," Weylin said. "After all, he's just a peasant. Can't even draw that bow halfway, probably. He isn't even qualified to have a sword, the peasant he is."

All of them laughed at that. Then they casually walked up to him. Gilan pretended not to notice.

"Hey peasant!" Herriglan called. "What are you doing here, in a village? Trying to steal something?"

"Bet he stole that sword, too!" Dansford said.

In fact, Gilan had set out on the path towards the castle because Halt had gone there earlier that morning.

Teglin and Teglot charged, but Gilan nimble danced out of the way, drawing his sword as he did so. When Teglot swung a clumsy stroke at him, he parried easily and hurried off to the castle.

The meeting concluded, Maytag exited the castle with Halt behind him, just in time to see a boy with a sword running. His five sons were close behind, but they stopped as soon as they noticed their father.

"Father," Teglin said, "we found this peasant carrying a nicely made sword. He was walking in the village, and he had a guilty look on his face. We concluded that he stole the weapon."

Gilan had caught sight of Halt already, and raised an eyebrow at him. Halt gave a slight nod in return.

Maytag slowly glanced at Gilan, shrugged, and said, "All right, you, listen up. This is an order from a noble. Someone of high ranking. Because he is the son of a noble, my son, and a knight in Battleschool, we must take his word above yours."

Gilan suddenly had an idea. "How about I face your best son, one on one combat, and see who wins? No harming."

Weylin nodded. "That would be me." He was eager to prove that his swordsmanship was better that this peasant's.

Gilan and Weylin circled warily. "I never caught your name," Weylin said.

"My name is Gi- " Gilan struck at his opponent rapidly, leaving a wound on the apprentice's arm. Weylin, who had been waiting for Gilan to finish his sentence, was caught unaware.

"Ouch!" he looked at Gilan angrily. "That hurt! Father, he hurt me!"

"It was only a wound. I didn't kill you," Gilan said with a small sigh.

"But you almost did. I saw it. You were this close," the nobleman said. "He could have lost his arm. Or even his head! How is he supposed to be the most famous knight in the realm if he doesn't have an arm?"

Gilan shrugged. "Doesn't matter. He still has it."

"But you were this close!"

The other four aspiring knights, seeing their brother and leader wounded by a mere peasant, or so they thought, caused each of them to become angry.

"You will die for what you did to Weylin!" Dansford screamed madly. But before he could draw his sword, an arrow flew out of seemingly nowhere and caught the collar of his royal clothes, pinning him to a tree. The other three brothers stopped their advance and looked around for the source. Then they noticed someone standing in the shadows, thirty feet away. Suddenly, three more arrows came in quick succession and all four boys were pinned to trees. The nobleman looked around wildly, his eyes falling on Halt.

"Another peasant?" he asked. But Maytag was nervous. He had seen how fast this man could shoot, and had no doubt that his royal collar would be the next target. Maytag had never really paid attention to the events of Araluen. In fact, he didn't even pay much attention to his own fief. Then he remembered the cabin in the woods. A Ranger! Maytag backed up slowly, never taking his eyes off the Ranger. Halt followed with a menacing gleam in his eyes. The nobleman screamed in fear, turned, and ran as fast as he could.

Gilan shot an arrow at the fifth son's collar. Weylin saw what was happening and tried to run, but it was too late. The arrow pinned him to a tree, and all five sons glanced at each other. They had seen their father run off, and they thought he was the bravest man they had ever seen. Now, they were pinned to trees with two foresters? watching them.

Herriglan tried to bluster his way out.

"We're the sons of a noble. You had best let us go immediately. We have weapons and we're not afraid to use them."

Truth to be told, the only reason why they hadn't just ripped the collar away was because it was their most expensive and prized clothing. Herriglan hoped that his words had effect on the two men. Sadly, the so-called peasant they had been chasing only smiled cheerfully and replied, "It seems to me that you are pinned to trees, while we are here with twenty more arrows. I'm sure you would like an arrow wound. Halt tells me that an arrow in the left calf is very painful."

This shocked Teglin so much he cried, "But you can't harm us. We're a nobleman's sons!"

Halt just sighed and shook his head. "And what about Morgarath? He was the Baron of Gorlan, wasn't he? He also fled to the Mountains of Rain and Night due to treachery."

Teglin had to admit this forester had a point. "But can't you just let us go?"

Halt and Gilan looked at each other, then back at the apprentices. "No." Then they took their arrows, replaced them in their quivers, and bound the boys to their respective trees. "Bye!" Gilan called cheerfully as he and Halt left the nobleman's sons.