Chapter 4: Choosing the Chosen Pt. 2

Jenny quickly stepped forward, almost tripping over her own feet in the process. She quickly regained her feet and looked at the Baron confidently.

"Master Chubb, sir!" She said, embarrassment evident in her voice. Baron Arald looked at her and could see the overwhelming eagerness in her shining blue eyes.

"What about him?" he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. Jenny hesitated, realizing she had just broken the protocol of the Choosing.

"Oh! Your pardon, sir… my… Baron… your lordship…" Jenny's tongue was running at hundreds of miles an hour trying to remember the correct form of address for the Baron.

"My lord!" Martin corrected angrily. Baron Arald turned his gaze to the small man next to him.

"Yes, Martin?" he asked. "What is it?" Martin looked at his master, somewhat embarrassed, knowing that he was intentionally misunderstanding his interruption. Even so, he took a deep breath and quickly thought up an excuse.

"I simply wanted to inform you that the candidate's name is Jennifer Dalby, my lord." Arald nodded at him, and Martin caught a glimpse of the look of approval in the man's eyes.

"Thank you, Martin. Now, Jennifer…"

"Jenny, sir." The chubby girl said. Arald chuckled.

"Yes, of course. Jenny, I would assume you are applying to be apprenticed to Master Chubb?"

"Yes, please, sir!" Jenny turned her gaze to the red-haired kitchen master that Will and Rachel had come to enjoy pranking so much. Chubb scowled at the girl thoughtfully, looking her up and down from several different angles. She smiled winningly at him, but Chubb simply shook his head, being beyond such female wiles. "I'd work hard, sir." She pressed, hoping in some way to win over the cook. Chubb looked at her.

"I know you would!" He replied, reaching towards one of his pockets, likely housing the ladle he so often used to punish slackers. "I'd make sure of it! No lollygaggers or slackers in my kitchen." Jenny decided it was the time to play her trump card, fearing her chance might be slipping away.

"I've got the right shape for it." Chubb nodded thoughtfully. He had to agree that she was very well rounded.

"She has a point there Chubb." The kitchen master nodded again.

"Shape is very important. All great cooks tend to be rounded." He continued to look over the girl for another minute. It was all very well for the others to accept their trainees in the blink of an eye, he thought, but cooking was something special. "Tell me, what would you do with a turkey pie?" Jenny flashed her winning smile again.

"Eat it." She answered immediately. Chubb quickly rapped her on the head with his ladle, which seemed to appear in his hand in an instant.

"I meant what would you do about cooking it." Jenny hesitated for a second, gathering her thoughts, then plunged into a long-winded explanation about how she would go about cooking a turkey pie. Chubb nodded several times as she spoke, interrupting only once when she was detailing the rolling of the pastry. "Nine times, you say?" Jenny nodded, seeming unwavered by the sudden interruption.

"My mother always said: 'Eight times to make it flaky and once more for love'." Chubb nodded and motioned for her to continue. As she continued her explanation, the other occupants in the room moved their attention to other things, none of them understanding a word that was being spoken. Once she finally finished, Chubb just continued to nod.

"Interesting, interesting." He muttered. He turned to the Baron, who was in a light conversation with Sir Rodney about the effectiveness of battleaxes against bears. "I'll take her, my lord." Arald's attention was returned to the matter at hand, and he nodded once.

"What a surprise." He said mildly. "Very well, report to the kitchens in the morning, Jenny." Jenny nodded happily, relieved that she had managed to convince Chubb to take her.

"Thank you, my lord." Jenny said.

"And that leaves us with only two candidates remaining." Arald glanced at his list, then up to meet Rachel's nervous gaze. "Alright, then. Step up, please." Rachel hesitantly took a step forward.

"My name is Rachel, sir." The nervous girl said.

"Rachel who?" Martin pressed, flicking through the information with the candidates' details written on them. "What's your family name, girl?" Before Rachel could answer Baron Arald stepped in.

"Rachel and will are special cases, Martin." He said quietly, also silently asking the small man to drop the matter. He turned to Rachel, who was looking down at her shoes now. "What school would you like to apply for, Rachel?" Rachel quickly looked up, a confident flare in her eyes.

"I would like to apply for blacksmithing school, my lord." She said. Arald looked to Master Barker, who was already shaking his head sadly. Rachel suddenly lost all of the confidence she had mustered and a tear came to her eye.

"I cannot accept her, my lord." Barker replied to the unasked question. He turned to the small girl. "I am sorry, Rachel, but you are not fit to be a blacksmith. You are too short. I doubt we have even one anvil for someone of your height. By the looks of your body you also do not have the build we need in our blacksmiths. The job is very heavy- duty work, work that someone of your stature just could not manage. Again, I am very sorry." Rachel nodded sadly, tears streaming down her cheeks in waves.

"I-it's okay, s-sir. I…I unders-stand." Rachel stepped back into line and Arald looked down at his list.

"Okay, Will. You're last." Will stepped up quietly, tears already forming in his eyes.

"I would like to apply for Battleschool, my lord." He said, trying to sound confident. Arald allowed a frown to cross his forehead, causing Will to lose any hope that he might succeed.

"Battleschool, Will? Don't you think you're a little…small for that?"

"I haven't had my growing spurt yet, sir. Everyone says that." Arald glanced at his battlemaster.

"Rodney?"

"I'm afraid he's too small my lord." Rodney stated. "I cannot take him."

"I'm stronger than I look, sir." Will pressed. His hopes had hit rock bottom and he knew there was nothing he could do to convince the knight.

"I'm sorry, Will." The Baron sighed and placed his list on the desk next to him.

"Can any of you take these two children?" he asked. All of the craftmasters shook their heads, stating variations of 'too small' or 'not enough experience'. Will could only see the Baron through a watery blur now. He fought to keep the tears from rolling down his eyes. It was the ultimate embarrassment, being rejected from Battleschool, then breaking down and crying in front of everyone in the room. He needed to be strong. Rachel was rejected too, Will thought, and he needed to be strong for her. He was surprised when he heard the Ranger break the awkward silence of the room.

"There is something you should know about the boy, my lord." Halt said, stepping forward from his position next to the Baron's chair. He handed the Baron a piece of paper, folded in half to hide what was written inside. Arald unfolded it and read what was inside before turning a worried glance to Halt.

"Are you sure, Halt?" The Ranger nodded.

"I am."

"I will have to think about this overnight." He refolded the paper and placed it on his desk before drumming his fingers on it. Halt nodded and stepped back, resuming his unmoving position next to the chair. Will stared longingly at the paper on the desk, wondering what kind of information the mysterious Ranger had just passed to the Baron. "Congratulations to those of you who were selected today. It's a big day for all of you, so you're free to take the rest of the day to enjoy yourselves. Tomorrow you will report to your new craftmasters, and if you'll take a tip from me I would advise you to be on time." He smiled at the four taller chosen then turned to address Will and Rachel. "You two may also have the rest of the day to enjoy yourselves. Rachel, you will report to me first thing tomorrow morning and I will accompany you and help you find a family to adopt you. Will, I'll let you know tomorrow what I've decided for you." He turned his attention to the rest of the room. "Thank you, everyone."

The Baron then left the room through the door behind his desk, the craftmasters following his lead. Martin ushered the former wards through the door. They chatted excitedly about their new lives as apprentices. Rachel followed silently behind them, not even looking up at Will before she too left the room. Will took one last look at the piece of paper on the desk, longing to open it and see what was inside. However, he felt the sensation that someone was watching him and looked up strait into the gaze of Halt. He shuddered in fear and rushed out of the room.

'I need to find out what is on that paper.' Will thought, already plotting a scheme to sneak in and read it once night fell. He hoped Rachel would be willing to help him, even though he knew it would be dangerous for anyone involved.

Me: Alright, this is a new record for me. An entire 1,500-word chapter written and edited in one night. Well, you guys can thank the wicked case of insomnia that's been developing in my brain over the past couple of months for this chapter. It's 2:30 am over here and I'm tired as hell, but I can't fall asleep. Anyways, again, thank my insomnia for the chapter, cause it gave me the time to think of how to get over my writer's block.

NEXT CHAPTER: A PLAN TO STEAL