Barry and Will looked at Halt anxiously. It was the morning before Harvest Day, a day Craftsmasters usually let their apprentices have off even though they hadn't actually helped with the harvesting. Halt had shown that he had his own way of doing things.

"Fine, you can go to your celebration. You'll probably forget everything you've learned in the past three months. Barry, take a few hours to practice with your bow and knives. Bring the horses."

"Wait, why is Barry in charge?" asked Will.

"He's the responsible one. Now shoo, you still have your chores to get to." The next day, Barry and Will did their chores quickly and headed off to the town. They sat down in a space near the town on the side, dropping their shaggy little horses reins by them. After all, Ranger Horses were trained not to run away, unlike the Battlehorses who would run as soon as they could. Soon Jenny, Alyss, and George came and sat down as well. As promised, Jenny came bearing some fresh mince pies in a little basket. Even Alyss who always seemed dignified, seemed anxious to get her hands on them.

"Come on!" said George. "I'm starving!"

"We ought to wait for Horace." said Jenny, looking around.

""Oh, come on," George pleaded. "I've been slaving over a hot petition to the Baron all morning!" Alyss rolled her eyes to heaven.

"Perhaps we should start," she said. "Otherwise he'll begin a legal argument and we'll be here all day. We can always put a couple aside for Horace." They divided them up, setting aside a few for Horace.

"This," said George, standing above them and spreading his arms wide as he addressed an imaginary court, "cannot be described as a mere pie, your honor. To describe this as a pie would be a gross miscarriage of justice, the like of which this court has never seen before!" Will turned to Alyss.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked. She smiled.

"They all get this way with a few months' legal training. These days, the main problem with George is getting him to shut up."

"Oh, sit down, George," said Jenny, blushing at his praise but delighted nonetheless."You are a complete idiot."

"Perhaps, my fair miss. But it is the sheer magic of these works of art that has turned my brain. These are not pies, these are symphonies!" He raised his remaining half pie to the others in a mock toast. "I give you . . . Miss Jenny's symphony of pies!" Alyss and Will, grinning at each other and at George, raised their own pies in response, and echoed the toast. Then all four apprentices burst out laughing.

It was a pity that Horace chose that precise moment to arrive. Alone among them, he was miserable in his new situation. The work was hard and unremitting and the discipline was unwavering. He had expected that, of course, and under normal circumstances he could have handled it. But being the focus for Bryn, Alda and Jerome's spite was making his life a nightmare —literally. The three second-year cadets would rouse him from his bed at all hours of the night, dragging him out to perform the most humiliating and exhausting tasks. The lack of sleep and the worry of never knowing when they might appear to torment him further was causing him to fall behind in his classroom work. His roommates, sensing that if they showed any sympathy for him they might become targets along with him, had cast him adrift, so that he felt totally alone in his misery. The one thing he had always aspired to was rapidly becoming ashes in his mouth. He hated Battleschool, but he could see no way out of his predicament without embarrassing and humiliating himself even further.

Now, on the one day when he could escape from the restrictions and the tensions of Battleschool, he arrived to find his former wardmates already busy at their feast, and he was angry and hurt that they hadn't bothered to wait for him. He had no idea that Jenny had set some of the pies aside for him. He assumed that she had divided them up already and that hurt more than anything. Of all of his former wardmates, she was the one he felt closest to. Jenny was always cheerful, always friendly, always willing to listen to another's troubles. He realized that he had been looking forward to seeing her again today and now he felt that she had let him down. Then there was Barry. Even though his friendly disposure meant he was friends with Will, he held an air of confidence about him that kept him from attacking him. He was predisposed to think badly of the others. Alyss had always seemed to hold herself aloof from him, as if he weren't good enough for her, and Will had spent his time playing tricks on him, then running away and climbing into that immense tree where Horace couldn't follow. At least, that was how Horace saw things in his current vulnerable state. He conveniently forgot the times he had cuffed Will over the ear, or held him in a headlock until the smaller boy was forced to cry,"Yield!" As for George, Horace had never taken much notice of him. The thin boy was studious and devoted to his books and Horace had always considered him a pallid, uninteresting person. Now here he was performing for them while they laughed and ate the pies and left nothing for him and suddenly he hated them all.

"Well, this is very nice, isn't it?" he said bitterly, and they turned to him, the laughter dying on their faces. As was inevitable, Jenny was the first one to recover.

"Horace! You're here at last!" she said. She started toward him, but the cold look on his face stopped her.

"At last?" he said. "I'm a few minutes late and suddenly I'm here 'at last'? And just too late because you've already pigged out on all the pies." Which was hardly fair to poor Jenny. Like most cooks, once she had prepared a meal, she had little interest in eating it. Her real pleasure lay in watching others enjoy the results of her work—and listening to their praise. Consequently, she hadn't had any of the pies. She turned back now to the two that she had covered in a napkin to keep for him.

"No, no," she said quickly. "There are still some left! Look!" But Horace's pent-up anger prevented him from acting or speaking rationally.

"Well," he said, in a voice heavy with sarcasm, "maybe I ought to come back later and give you time to finish them as well."

"Horace!" Tears sprang to Jenny's eyes. She had no idea what was wrong with Horace. All she knew was that her plan for a pleasant reunion with her old wardmates was falling in ruins. George stepped forward now, peering curiously at Horace. The tall, thin boy cocked his head to one side, to study the apprentice warrior more closely —as if he were an exhibit or a piece of evidence in a law court.

"There's no call to be so unpleasant," he said reasonably. But reason wasn't what Horace wanted to hear. He shoved the other boy aside angrily.

"Get away from me," he said. "And mind how you talk to a warrior."

"You're not a warrior yet," Will told him scornfully. "You're still only an apprentice like the rest of us." Jenny made a small gesture with her hands, urging Will to drop the matter. Horace, who was in the act of helping himself to the remaining pies, looked up slowly. He measured Will up and down for a second or two.

"Oho!" he said. "I see the apprentice spies are with us today!" He looked to see if the others were laughing at his wit. They weren't and it only served to make him more unpleasant.

"I suppose Halt is teaching you two to slink around, spying on everyone, is he?" Horace stepped forward, without waiting for an answer, and fingered Will's mottled cloak sarcastically.

"What's this? Didn't you have enough dye to make it all one color?"

"It's a Ranger cloak," Will said quietly, holding down the anger that was building inside him. Horace snorted scornfully, cramming half of one of the pies into his mouth and spraying crumbs as he did so.

"Don't be so unpleasant," George said. Horace rounded on the apprentice scribe, his face red.

"Watch your tongue, boy!" he snapped. "You're talking to a warrior, you know!"

"An apprentice warrior," Will repeated firmly, laying stress on the word apprentice. Horace went redder and looked angrily between the two of them. Will tensed himself, sensing that the bigger boy was about to launch an attack. But there was something in Will's eyes and his ready stance that made Horace think twice about it. He had never seen that look of defiance before. In the past, if he'd threatened Will, he had always seen fear. This newfound confidence unsettled him a little. Instead, he turned back to George and gave him a heavy shove in the chest.

"How's that for unpleasant?" he said as the tall, thin boy staggered back. George's arms windmilled as he tried to save himself from falling. Accidentally, he struck Tug a glancing blow on the side. The little pony, grazing peacefully, reared suddenly against his bridle.

"Steady, Tug," Will said, and Tug quieted immediately. But now Horace had noticed him for the first time. He stepped forward and looked more closely at the shaggy pony.

"What's this?" he asked in mock disbelief.

"Has someone brought a big ugly dog to the party?" Will clenched his fists.

"He's my horse," he said quietly. He could put up with Horace sneering at him, but he wasn't going to stand by and see his horse insulted. Horace let out a braying laugh.

"Those two? Horses? That's not a horse! In the Battleschool we ride real horses! Not shaggy dogs! Looks to me they need a good bath too!" " He wrinkled his nose and pretended to sniff closer to Tug and Buck. The pony glanced sideways at Will. Who is this unpleasant clod? his eyes seemed to say. Barry grinned wickedly but quickly hid it.

"We have Ranger Horses. Only a Ranger could ride them." Horace laughed.

"My grandmother could ride him, who are you trying to fool?" Horace had seemingly forgotten the one rule of the yearmates, don't do anything to get on Barry's bad side. Only unpleasant things could happen from there.

"Maybe she could,"said Barry. "But you definetly can't." Before he'd even finished the challenge, Horace was untying the bridle. Buck looked at Barry and the boy could have sworn the horse nodded slightly. Tug looked at Barry like he was enjoying this moment. Horace swung himself easily up onto Buck's back. The pony stood, unmoving.

"Nothing to it!" Horace crowed. Then he dug his heels into Buck's sides. "Come on, doggy! Let's have a run." Barry and Will saw the familiar, preparatory bunching of muscles in Buck's legs and body. Then the pony sprang into the air off all four feet, twisted violently, came down on his front legs and shot his hindquarters high into the air. Horace flew like a bird for several seconds. Then he crashed flat on his back in the dust.

George and Alyss looked on in delighted disbelief as the bully lay there for a second or two, stunned and winded. Will stared in horror, first at Horace and then at Barry, fearing for his friend's life. Jenny went to step forward to see if he was all right. Then her mouth set in a determined line and she stopped. Horace had asked for it, she thought. There was a chance then, just a chance, that the whole incident might end there. But Barry couldn't resist the temptation to have one last word.

"Maybe you'd better ask your grandmother if she'll teach you to ride," he said, straight-faced. Will stared at Barry in horror then in amazement of his bravery. If he had tried something like that, he'd be dead by now. George and Alyss managed to hide their smiles but, unfortunately, it was Jenny who couldn't stop the small giggle that escaped her. In an instant, Horace scrambled to his feet, his face dark with rage. He looked around, saw a fallen branch from an apple tree and grabbed it, brandishing it over his head as he rushed at Buck.

"I'll show you, and your damned horse!" he yelled furiously, swinging the stick wildly at Buck. The pony danced sideways out of harm's way while Tug looked towards the entire scene with calmness. Barry slowly got up and walked over to Horace coolly who dropped the branch and backed up against a tree trunk.

"You think you'll do something like that again?" asked Barry in a calm everyday voice as his knife rested against Horace's throat. They didn't even catch the moment when he pulled it out.

"N-no. I won't."

"Good. Now, I want you to apologize to him."

"Who?"

"Buck of course."

Horace's face went a dark red before he walked in front of the horse and said, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry Buck." said Barry.

"I'm sorry Buck." said Horace who immediately sat down and ate his mince pies in silence. Barry replaced his knife in his scabbard and sat down to eat his pies. A few minutes after they had finished eating, Barry looked towards Will and they silently got up, made the same clicking noise with their tongues so the horses would follow, and walked up a path into a clearing in the forest about a hundred yards up the path. The rest of the wardmates looked at each other.

"What was that?"

"Yeah, why are they going into the forest?"

"Dunno. Did you realize that their horses don't have to be tied? They let them walk around freely."

"Yeah, don't they know that they're going to run away?"

"I think they're trained to stay. I mean, when Horace tried to hit Buck with that branch, it moved expertly out of the way. And all they had to do was make a clicking noise to get them to follow."

"You're right. Want to see what they're up to?"

"Why not?" Horace, George, Alyss, and Jenny got up and followed the path as well. When they caught sight of Will and Barry they hid in the bushes on the side of the path and listened in.

"Will, let's start with archery." They shot arrows into alternating trees until their quivers were empty and then collected them. Then they faced each other, going around in a circular movement and lunged at each other with their knives. After a few hours, they were done.

"Let's head back, okay?" Will and Barry were collecting their arrows once again and the moment the last arrow was back in the quiver, three students made their way out of the bushes. They had grins on their faces and were swaggering around with large hickory canes used for practice. It was Alda, Bryn, and Jerome. Horace gritted his teeth when he saw them.

"We've been watching you for the past few hours and saw what you did to Horace." said Alda.

"We know." said Will. "You guys aren't exactly the sneakiest people around." They looked taken aback before continuing.

"We've seen your skill. We want you to join us in making Horace's life a nightmare."

"Ah, so you're why he was in such an ill mood today."

"Well, it's been a year already."

"I see." said Barry who was facing them coolly.

"So, are you in?"

"Nah, I don't want to join your little club. Do you Will?" asked Barry. Will shook his head and in a flicker of movement, their saxe knives were in their hands. Alda, Bryn, and Jerome backed away. After all, Barry and Will had real weapons, and they had hickory canes, which, though sturdy, would not stand up to their expertise and skill. Barry looked towards Will with a devilish grin and he whispered to him. Will nodded, his own smile spreading across his face.

"Alda, Bryn, Jerome, come closer." Barry put his knife back and handed his weapons to Will who his them in the underbrush, along with the Ranger cloak he was wearing. Now he looked like one of the regular townspeople, as he had specially chosen these clothes for the occasion so as not to stand out amongst the regular folk.

"Why did you even choose canes? I mean, that's not a real weapon at all, is it. Point them towards me." said Barry.

"B-but..."

"Do it." said Barry in a commanding tone. As the boys were honed to listen to any command, they immediately did it. They could hear someone new coming up the path. Barry put some dirt on his face and lied on the ground, then pretended to cry. He was very good at acting. Will hid himself just as Sir Rodney himself came into the clearing and he looked at the scene before him.

"Alda, Bryn, Jerome! Get away from that boy, and drop your weapons!" They did so and were a stuttering mess before he put up a hand to stop them.

"Now, run along." he said to Barry. "Let me take care of these three." Barry used his posture to make himself look smaller than he actually was, courtesy of Halt's training. As soon as he was down the path, he came back silently and had a wicked grin on his face as he crouched next to Horace, Alyss, George, and Jenny who all stared at him.

"Your welcome Horace." he said before looking back at the scene of Sir Rodney chewing out, then expelling the three students who were trying to explain what really happened. Apparently, the whole 'he's a secret Ranger!' thing was too fanciful for Rodney who shook his head.

"You're telling me that the village boy was secretly a Ranger who just wanted to get you in trouble?" They nodded furiously.

"Then why did you have your canes out here? And even if he was a Ranger, he would only do that if there was good reason to. Halt himself trains those boys down at his cabin and let me tell you, you never want to do something that gets on his bad side. So if he was a Ranger, he's only doing this because it was beneficial to the kingdom. Now get out of my sight. Pack your things and leave. You will be leaving the fief at dawn." They scrambled away and Rodney looked towards where the group was hiding.

"I assume you had good reason to do that Barry?" asked Rodney as Barry rose.

"Yes. Apparently, they wanted me and Will to join their little 'make Horace's life a nightmare' club. They said they've been tormenting him since the beginning of the year which was when he showed a decrease in his grades. Yes, I have been checking up on my yearmates."

"Feel free to check up on anyone. Where is Will?" Will materialized behind Sir Rodney.

"Here I am." Rodney clutched a hand to his heart dramatically.

"Don't do that again Will. My old heart can't take it." Will looked sorry while Barry stifled a laugh.

"I won't do that again sir." said Will. Rodney grinned towards Barry.

"The Baron was right about you Barry. I'd appreciate having you around sometime." Rodney walked off while Barry and Will stared at his back.

"You guys can come out now." said Barry to the yearmates who were still hiding. They rose.

"How did you know we were there in the first place?"

"Duh, did you think we learned nothing from Halt? He really is the best teacher out of the bunch, except for maybe Sir Rodney. They're a bright bunch. Come on now, we haven't tried those carnival games yet and I want to find out if they really are impossible to shoot into those hoops." They headed off, merry as ever, Horace now in a practical life debt to Barry.