Chapter 4, revised.

Baron Arald only spoke to the dungeon master for a moment, trading words in hushed tones before Cedric and Rowan were released from the confinement of the dungeon.

Then the Baron led them to his office, leaving Rowan in the secretary's company to be watched. Arald was staring at Cedric now, his eyes showing his concern for Cedric's actions.

"Cedric… I don't know where to start… Surely you know what you did was highly irrational…" The Baron began, his serious gaze locking with Cedric's. Nervously, Cedric shuffled his boots against the stone floor, not knowing what to say.

Finally, after a drawn out silence, Cedric found the courage to speak. "I can't say I agree with you, my lord."

The Baron of Redmont searched Cedric's gaze thoroughly, what he was looking for was unsure to Cedric. Cedric could feel a tingle of nervousness creep into his mind, growing rapidly by the moment. Cedric wasn't usually nervous, he'd always been able to hold a strict level of calm demeanor around authority figures, but then again, he had never caused an uproar with castle guards.

"I don't think you can justify your actions Cedric, what you did was simply uncalled for. Every citizen must take responsibility for his actions. Your brother was caught stealing, and so must pay the price, just like anyone else. No if, ands, or buts."

"My lord, he's just a kid." Cedric replied, his voice slightly higher pitched than he had intended, the Knight had a feeling that this was one battle he would not win.

"From what I understand he's at least fifteen years of age, if not older. That's plenty old enough, what he did was wrong. It must be acted upon, as must any other thief."

The little bit of formality remaining vanished from Cedric's mind, he abandoned the nervous composure he had once held. Instead his eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness, and the argument briskly slipped out of hand.

"He's not a thief! He's my brother, and I would gladly take his place in prison because that's what brothers do!"

The Baron stood brusquely and slammed his fist onto his oak desk, sending papers fluttering to the floor. "They're no exceptions, there never has been! He was caught stealing, nothing will change that."

"I haven't seen him in years, if I don't help him now I will never see him again!" Cedric shouted, "Arald he deserves a second chance. How could I live myself if I walk away now, if I leave him to face a life of misery…" Cedric's voice cracked as he finished, and he realized that every word he said was true. He had never been there for Rowan, and now the chance was staring him in the face, so close, yet out of reach.

Arald gaze softened by just a hint, he knew it was only natural for Cedric to stick up for his brother, as irrational as his actions might have been the Battlemaster was only doing what he thought was right.

Still the Baron of Redmont was shaking his head. "There's nothing you can do Cedric, he can't stay here now, even if he is overlooked for his crimes, you have a responsibility to Araluen. You can't keep that responsibility and care for your brother."

The tension in the small office had simmered down slightly, and Cedric felt the anger in him ebb away. The Battlemaster stared at the ground as he thought, and then the answer came to him. He had already said it to Rowan, and just maybe it was the solution to the problem.

"He can be my apprentice. I could train him as a Knight. I could keep a close watch on him constantly," Cedric pleaded.

Arald gritted his teeth in thought, there were several moments of silence before the Baron summoned up a reply. "One chance." He said, his voice strict, his gaze made from stone. "You can take him with you to the west woods, but if he slips up one time he's through."

There was a hardened moment of silence between the two men. Understanding passed between them, along with the return of mutual respect.

Rowan stuck close to his brother's side as they weaved their way towards the Redmont Battleschool. Shortly after the compromise for Rowan's freedom Cedric had explained the terms of the agreement to the boy. Now they headed to the Battleschool, it was time to find Rowan suitable equipment for the short journey to the western woods.

To start with Cedric had Rowan choose a wooden training sword, not wanting to put an actual sword in the young boy's hand just yet. Cedric watched Rowan as he experimentally lifted the sword in each hand. Rowan finally settled with the sword in his right hand, which was his dominate. Cedric nodded approvingly at Rowan, glad to see that Rowan was taking an interest in what he was doing.

Although Cedric had a very real sword of his own strapped to his left-hand side, he too chose a drill sword. The Battlemaster figured he would spar with Rowan in the near future. Cedric had always believed that the easiest way to learn was by doing instead of watching.

Along with drill swords, Rowan was supplied with a round buckler. The shield was circular, it's surface smooth and glossy. Rowan hefted the heavy shield and fasted it to his left arm. Almost instantly the weight of the buckler was reduced drastically. Experimentally, Rowan changed the position of his left arm, testing the balance. Cedric watched Rowan, the slightest hint of pride brewing in his blue eyes.

The Battlemaster found himself thinking of his family. He hadn't seen his Mother or Father in quite awhile. They lived in Meric fief, as they had all there lives. They ran a small bakery in the castle, and it had been by shear luck that Cedric's talent with a sword was recognized, and put to good use.

Now Rowan would get the chance to make an even living as a knight and Cedric would be there every step of the way.

That night Rowan collapsed tiredly onto a bunk of his own in one of the many common rooms set aside for the Knights of Meric. So far the day had been rather surprising. When he had woken that day he was little more than a poor thief, and now as he lay on top of the soft covers of the freshly made bed, he was on his way to becoming a Knight of Araluen. It seemed as if Rowan's life was beginning to look up, and he felt a burst of happiness at the thought. For once, he wouldn't need to face the world alone, this time he would have Cedric with him.

In the woods west of Redmont, crouched in the thick brush under the shelter of the tall trees, was a figure. Wreathed in a dark cloak, the face of the shape was obscured. Long braches surrounded the stock still body. At a glance, it was impossible to catch sight of the distorted figure.

High above the pine trees of the forest hung the slightest sliver of the gleaming white moon. The scarce light emitted by the bright moon was just enough to illuminate a village that lay just a short distance from the forest edge.

The village was seemingly deserted at night, and only the warm summer breeze stirred the softest of movements. The gaze of the concealed figure remained locked on the village.

Then, with a slither of movement, the figure slide silently from the shelter of the trees. The soft soled boots muted the strangers footsteps against the parched earth. It took little effort for the ghost like figure to make their way into the heart of the village.

Even if the villagers had caught sight of the mystic figure, there was little they would be capable of doing about the unwanted intruder.

Chapter 4, revised.