Back In Time
Will woke up staring at a wooden ceiling. He blinked. The arches here were all wrong…Halt's cabin didn't have arches in the ceiling. He sat up and looked around only to gape in shock at the two forms lying on beds beside him…Horace and George?
Will threw the covers off him and looked down at himself, then at the other boys. They all looked about…fifteen years old? Will choked. He was back in the Ward! He examined the clothes they had gone to sleep in and then looked at where everything was positioned in the room. The dressers, the beds, the doors, the window…
…there was no denying it. He had gone back in time to Choosing Day. He'd been so nervous the first time around. He'd remembered every detail. He peered out the window and was pleased to note that the sun was just rising. He had no idea how his sleeping patterns hadn't been altered, but he was glad for it. There would be enough time to get ready before Horace woke.
Will winced at his last thought. He wasn't comfortable with his friend being a rude bully again. He dressed himself in a brown tunic and put on a belt, then crept downstairs to grab a few things.
He hadn't been happy when he realized there was probably no way to get him back to his own time. This time would be much different.
Will grinned when the rest of his Wardmates came down the stairs.
"You're up early today, Will," commented Alyss, who was smiling back at him. "Are you excited for Choosing Day as well?"
"He'll never be a knight," cut in Horace before Will could answer, "He's too small and scrawny and weak." He sneered over the breakfast table, where he had sat down across from Will.
"Horace-" frowned Jenny, but Will shook his head, still smiling.
"I don't intend to go to Battleschool," he revealed. When the girls began to protest at him giving up his passion just because of Horace's teasing, Will held up a hand for silence and continued, "I'm planning to go to Hibernia for a bit. Clonmel, actually. I've got a friend there I need to visit. Can't break a promise, can I?"
Halt, who was hidden in the shadows, felt his eyebrows shoot up.
"Will," began Alyss sharply, "You cannot go to Hibernia! You'll die! How would you even get there? And you haven't been corresponding with a Hibernian, one of us would have noticed-"
"P-Please," came a shaky, stuttering voice. "L-Leave him b–b-be."
"Thank you, George," said Will, who had dropped the grin and was now giving the other boy a kind smile. "I should like to leave before the Choosing, but it's too late now. When I don't get chosen, I'll leave. But don't worry, I'll make sure they remember me."
Halt didn't like the sound of this. He was considering Will for an apprentice, and he certainly didn't want him in Clonmel, near Ferris. He'd promised Daniel that's he'd protect Will.
"Will, what do you mean?" demanded Jenny, but at that moment a messenger came in to announce it was time for the Choosing. Will let out an unearthly cackle.
"It's time!" he cheered. The others exchanged looks of surprise. Horace had been stunned silent earlier for over fifteen minutes.
One by one, they all filed out.
Anthony looked over the children. "Very well," he began, "Please-" his voice died at the sight of the short brown-haired boy sitting down. Earlier the fifteen-year-old had skipped in, but the Chamberlain had dismissed that. "Why are you sitting?" he inquired of the youth.
"Well," said Will, "No one ever told me we had to stand. And sitting down is ever so much more fun than standing."
Anthony inwardly gaped. "Very well," he repeated, wanting to get this over with, "Now please-" he sighed. The short one at the end of the line appeared to be doing something with a needle and a bucket of soap and water. "What is that?" he asked, annoyed.
"I'm blowing bubbles, sir," said Will cheerfully. "You see, I've bent this needle so it's like a P, and I just dip it in this bucket here and bubbles come out!" He demonstrated, and everyone watched in surprise as a stream of bubbles appeared. "And, well, no one told us we couldn't blow bubbles either. You can go on with your Choosing."
The only thing Anthony had to sat about that was…well, nothing.
And so the shocked man had continued, with the large room being filled with tons of tiny bubbles. Will's creativity and tendency to go around the rules had impressed the Craftmasters (even though they'd want him to follow protocol later). Halt sensed that he might have competition.
"Name?" asked Anthony after everyone had gotten into height order (Will being on the end already).
"Horace Altman," replied Horace, "for Battleschool."
"WHOO-HOO!" Will cheered loudly from his seated position. "GO GET 'EM, HORACE!" He whispered loudly to Jenny, who was standing next to and above him, "He is so going to get in, right?" He nodded to himself without waiting for an answer, bobbing his head up and down. Then he realized Rodney had yet to give and answer.
"So?" asked Will. When no one answered, he slapped his hand to his face. "Is Horace in or not?"
"Well," said Rodney, pleased at Will's support for his friend, "He's got the right build, and you seem to think he's capable, so-"
"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA," bellowed Will, suddenly standing up and pushing his hands out in a "stop" gesture, "'He's got the right build'? What is he, a horse you want to buy?" Will shook his head. "Well, you've lost your chance! By insulting my friend, you've declared yourself ineligible of his services for the moment-"
"Will," growled Horace, "Stop messing up my Choosing!"
"I'll take him," said Sir Rodney quickly, and Horace ran over to him, throwing a glare at Will once he got there. Will just shrugged and sat down.
Lady Pauline announced that she had already decided to take Alyss as her assistant. Will groaned, "BUT THEN WHAT'S THE POINT? What's the point of coming to Choosing Day if you've already been chosen?" Will threw his hands up in exasperation and sat down again.
"Will," said Baron Arald, "I appreciate your tendency to inject your opinion frequently into the Ceremony, but-"
"NO SIR," bellowed Will, who was on his feet again and now walking straight up to the Baron. He stopped about a few feet away and stated, "I have a right to voice my opinion. If Sir Rodney wants Horace as a student, he needs to show some respect or he's not getting him. He's really good…or he will be, at least," he added hastily. "And if Alyss has already been chosen, why go through all this rigmarole and have her come to Choosing Day? She could have just told us, or they could have waited for the Choosing to choose. No offense," he said to Lady Pauline, and she nodded and gestured for him to continue.
"What I'm saying is, I care about my Wardmates, and I don't want them in some place that they won't get the respect they're entitled to or some place who can't even wait to snatch them up, and then decides to rub it in that they already got it done to the other Craftmasters by pointlessly bringing them to a place where they were supposed to have done the thing that was already done no offense," his sentences ran together as he hastily stuck the two words in. Lady Pauline responded as she had the first time. "And so, erm, sir," he remembered to say, "That's why I feel the need to comment every now and then. Um, thanks."
With that, he walked back to his bucket of water and sat down. The Craftmasters were extremely impressed. He had shown up the Baron (not that anyone would ever put it like that), Rodney, and Lady Pauline while still being respectful. And he had done it with tact (albeit the "erm" and "um"). Halt suppressed a groan as he saw everyone except Anthony focus his or her attention on Will. He's mine, he thought. Mine. He wondered how Will had changed so much over just a night's sleep. He was suspicious.
The Scribemaster was very careful not to seem like he was appraising George, but Will kept his eyes trained on him anyway. Finally, the boy was accepted. But when Master Chubb inquired why Jenny thought her cooking ability was good enough for him, forgetting about Will for a second, the brown-haired boy jumped back into action. He was standing up AGAIN.
"Again with the insults, sir!" complained Will to the Baron. "Jenny is the best cook I know, not including the Master himself! And I wouldn't give her credit if she wasn't; if she was bloody horrible, I'd say she was bloody horrible!" He stopped, "I apologize for my language, sir," but everyone could see he was still mad. "You know, it isn't just the Craftmaster who chooses the student. The student has to choose the Craftmaster first. Isn't that right, sir?" he asked Anthony, and the man nodded, staying silent. He wanted to see what else Will would say.
"Jenny," Will said, turning to his friend, "Will you take Master Chubb as a Craftmaster?" Jenny nodded firmly.
"Yes, Will. I'm sure."
"Very well then," muttered Will, turning to the chef, "You can have Jenny. She's being nice and allowing you to train her. And if you even think about cracking me on the head with a ladle, remember I have a bucket of soapy water, sir." He promptly began to bounce up and down. "I'm getting tired of sitting down and standing. Jumping is more fun." And no one answered.
At Chubb's nod, Jenny left Will's side to stand next to him. "Name?" asked Anthony blandly to Will. There was no point, but the Chamberlain stuck to procedure.
"Will Trea-" Will began, and then stopped himself. "Will No-Na-" he started again, then huffed. Horace's nickname had really stuck, he realized. Just being back in this situation was causing memories to be called up. "Just Will," finished Will, "I don't know what my last name is."
Halt whispered a question into Baron Arald's ear. He wanted to see how Will would react to a Ranger saying something secret about him. The boy seemed unperturbed, but he fixed Halt with a speculative stare.
Arald minutely shrugged at Halt and asked Will, "What was that first intro name?"
"Treaty, Will Treaty," replied Will hastily so he wouldn't choke up, keeping his features composed. "It's something a friend used to call me." He felt a pang in his heart for Halt-his Halt, not this one from fifteen years ago.
"And the second one?"
"Will No-Name," sighed Will. "Just some teasing. It stopped." Halt doubted that-Will wouldn't have accidentally called himself that if it hadn't been going on for a while.
"Your preferred Craft?" asked Anthony after Arald was satisfied that Halt had been appeased.
"Well," Will grinned, "I had originally planned on going to Battleschool." He ignored the fact that the Craftmasters were hanging onto his every word. He stopped bouncing. "But now I don't really care," he admitted. "I'm too small for Battleschool, have messy penmanship, and can only cook coffee and rabbit stew." Halt grew more interested at the last part.
"Alyss is a bloody good speaker-sorry about the language again, sir-and diplomacy is too civil most of the time for me. I'd just be in her way." He smiled at the blonde girl, and she smiled back happily. "I'm too small again for both Horseschool and the Smiths. And so there's basically nothing."
The Craftmasters were disgruntled. Will had turned down all of them, except for Halt! The Ranger was inwardly cackling with glee. "I will have you," he said quietly.
There was silence.
Will began to laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasped out between laughs. "By Gorlog's bloody, scruffy beard! Whew," he wiped away a tear. "Sorry, but I just never thought the Great Halt, the eight-foot-tall Ranger who kills bears with his bare hands, would be asking me, poor little Will No-Name who would never get anywhere for a bloody apprenticeship! An-an apprenticeship!" Will suddenly broke down laughing and crying at the same time. Everyone else looked on in alarm.
The young boy looked up with a tearstained face. "I'm sorry, sir. I would like to be a Ranger." Halt brightened at this, but was concealed by his cloak. But his face fell as Will continued, "But I can't, sir, I can't. Not with all you've already done for me. I would be taking too much. Thank you for protecting me, sir." He noticed the words were spilling out of his mouth unnaturally fast. "You've gotten me to Redmont, and I've grown. Not much, but still. Please, forgive yourself." He sobbed, "Daniel would!" He ran out the large doors.
And once more, there was silence.