One night Percival made the decision to leave Longstead. It was the only solution to the problem, as it was clear that Bree's mother would not relinquish her belligerent conduct until Percival was out of her sight.

In the morning he packed his things and went into the house where he told his family about his decision. His mother wept and his father turned quiet. Rowan looked at him with great hurt in his eyes and went out of the house without a word. They wanted him to stay, but he knew it was not possible, and he knew that they also knew it.

"Where will you go?" his mother cried.

"To Uther's kingdom. Maybe I can find work at one of the estates."

It was said that Uther was a just and fair king and Percival wanted to see for himself whether the people there were better off than here in Cenred's kingdom.

His mother cried and clutched him and kissed him.

"I promise I will come back, mother," he said, only he did not know whether it would be in one year or five.

"God be with you, my son," his father said, grabbing his shoulder.

Then Percival went outside to find his brother. After a few minutes he saw him sitting up among the branches of a tree.

"Rowan, won't you come down? There's something I'd like to tell you," Percival said. The pain in the boy's eyes stung him like knives. As if his mother's tears had not been enough. He felt like a traitor. Rowan hesitated for a moment, but then he climbed down and stood in front of Percival, who knelt down to be at eye-level with his younger brother.

"Mother and father is going to need your help now, Rowan, when I am gone," Percival said. "I want you to promise to do as they say."

Rowan nodded.

"And work hard."

The boy nodded again. Then he asked: "Why do you have to go?"

"If I don't, Longstead will become a bad place," Percival answered.

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong!"

"No, I didn't," Percival agreed, though he was not so sure any more. What if he had not agreed to marry Bree in the first place? Or if he had been more keen to win her heart before Feoran did? Then this would not have happened.

"Then why can't we tell them so you can stay?" Rowan complained.

"Because they don't want to listen," he sighed. "Let's not talk more about it, because there is nothing to be done," he said bitterly. Then he paused for a moment and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I'm going to miss you, little brother," he said, remembering all the times Rowan had wanted to help him work and wanted to do and be everything he did.

"I'm going to miss you too," the boy said, and now the tears ran from his eyes. He buried his head in his older brother's chest and cried. Percival held him and let him cry. That was the least he could do.

Over the next few days Percival made his way to the high road that would eventually take him to Uther's kingdom. He was on foot and spent the nights in taverns, where he worked for his food and bed. By the weekend he reached a town and his evening in the tavern there was lively and enjoyable. He got talking with a group of other young men who had gathered around a table. One of them was called Gwaine. He was tall, but not as tall as Percival, fit and quite handsome with his prominent nose, lively eyes and the long, dark brown hair framing his face. He made many jokes and talked a lot, especially about fights he had been in. He seemed smart and compelling, yet, his manner which could be interpreted as boastful, began to get on Percival's nerves after a while.

When Gwaine talked about how he had recently defeated five of Cenred's mercenaries single-handedly, Percival could not but express his disbelief.

"Well, exaggeration does make a good story better," he commented.

Gwaine looked directly at him. "Exaggeration? Are you saying I'm a liar?"

"That's not what I said," Percival said calmly, though on the inside he was wary.

"What were you doing then? Issuing a challenge, perhaps?" Gwaine sneered.

Percival scoffed. Gwaine had used the opportunity to twist his words thereby issuing a challenge himself. Now he could either take it up and win or lose as a man, or refuse and be labelled a coward. He had not sought to pick a fight, but unless this good evening was to be ruined for him, he had better take it.

"If that's what you want, pretty boy," Percival answered.

"Get up!" Gwaine said, getting to his feet himself.

"Alright, but lets go outside," Percival said as he rose from the bench. He walked slowly backwards towards the door, not losing Gwaine with his eyes. The others followed them out into the street.

Percival's notion that Gwaine was not in any way stupid was only confirmed by the way he fought. Being the one who had in fact issued the challenge, Gwaine must be the one to open the brawl, but he did so only after circling Percival for some moments and deliberating him carefully. Gwaine was a skilled fighter and there was no mistake about that. To begin with he landed a number of effective punches which staggered Percival considerably. He was brave too, challenging someone of Percival's size and obvious strength. In fact, Percival had never been challenged by a stranger before, and could not say that he had been in a lot of fights either, but in fact it was quite fun.

Gwaine was very strong for his lean figure, and he certainly knew what he was about. Percival on the other hand was stronger still and very enduring. The fight went on for a long time. In the end they were both worn out, gasping for air and lunging half-heartedly at each other, but it seemed they were both very stubborn too. Neither would give in just for the sake of ending the fight. For a few minutes they were grappling on the ground, rolling over several times. Then they got to their feet again. But as he was about to lunge at his big opponent, Gwaine stepped into a hole in the road and fell down. Though Percival knew it was not strictly fair, he seized the opportunity to finally lock in Gwaine.

Gwaine gave a tired nod, acknowledging his opponent's victory. The crowd that was watching cheered and whistled for Percival, who released his grip and helped Gwaine to his feet. They were both covered in dirt, but grinning.

"That wasn't entirely fair," Gwaine said, his eyes narrow, but his tone betraying that he indeed thought of Percival as a worthy opponent.

"Maybe so," Percival answered. "Let me buy you another tankard of mead and we'll call it even."

"Agreed."