Jenny picked up the book from the table and started on chapter one.

Chapter 1

"Try to eat something, Will. Tomorrow is a big day, after all." Jenny, blond, pretty and cheerful,

Jenny smiled at the description of herself, and smiled at Will, meanwhile the other Ward mates nodded in agreement.

gestured toward Will's barely touched plate and smiled encouragingly at him. Will made an attempt to return the smile, but it was a dismal failure. He picked at the plate before him, piled high with his favorite foods. Tonight, his stomach knotted tight with tension and anticipation, he could hardly bring himself to swallow a bite.

"Why were you nervous?" Gilan asked Will, and Will, who had realised what was going on, replied "Choosing Day!"

"What's Choosing Day?" Gilan enquired.

"You'll see."

Tomorrow would be a big day, he knew. He knew it all too well, in fact. Tomorrow would be the biggest day in his life, because tomorrow was the Choosing Day and it would determine how he spent the rest of his life.

"A bit dramatic, aren't you?" Erak questioned, but instead of an answer, he received glares from all the Redmont residents.

"Nerves, I imagine," said George, setting down his loaded fork and seizing the lapels of his jacket in a judicious manner. He was a thin, gangly and studious boy, fascinated by rules and regulations and with a penchant for examining and debating both sides of any question-sometimes at great length.

"You still do that." Horace told George, remembering his time in Nihon-Ja, with a grin to make sure he knew it was a joke.

"Dreadful thing, nervousness. It can just freeze you up so you can't think, can't eat, can't speak." "I'm not nervous," Will said quickly, noticing that Horace had looked up,

"Oh no" Horace muttered, earning questioning glances from the rest of the room.

ready to form a sarcastic comment.

At the last few words the ward mates, the Baron, Sir Rodney and Halt understood Horace's previous statement.

George nodded several times, considering Will's statement. "On the other hand," he added, "a little nervousness can actually improve performance. It can heighten your perceptions and sharpen your reactions.

"If you're not nervous before a battle, you're either a fool or overconfident, either of which can be deadly." Gilan said philosophically.

"Stop stealing my wisdom." Halt protested. Crowley looked at him with an evil grin on his face.

"Pritchard was the one who kept saying that." Halt didn't dignify that with a response.

So, the fact that you are worried, if, in fact, you are, is not necessarily something to be worried about, of itself-so to speak." In spite of himself, a wry smile touched Will's mouth. George would be a natural in the legal profession, he thought. He would almost certainly be the Scribemaster's choice on the following morning.

George reddened in embarrassment and looked down at the table. Lady Pauline then added to that embarrassment by saying "I heard Nigel mention you were his best apprentice"

Perhaps, Will thought, that was at the heart of his own problem. He was the only one of the wardmates who had any fears about the Choosing that would take place within twelve hours.

"We were all nervous." Jenny said, smiling at Will.

"He ought to be nervous!" Horace scoffed.

Horace winced.

"After all, which Craftmaster is going to want him as an apprentice?" "I'm sure we're all nervous," Alyss said. She directed one of her rare smiles at Will. "We'd be stupid not to be." "Well, I'm not!" Horace said, then reddened as Alyss raised one eyebrow and Jenny giggled.

Horace made eye contact with Will, "I'm really sorry about how I acted back then."

"It's fine," Will replied, "You've saved my life too many times for me to hold a grudge." and the two friends shared a smile.

It was typical of Alyss, Will thought. He knew that the tall, graceful girl had already been promised a place as an apprentice by Lady Pauline, head of Castle Redmont's Diplomatic Service. Her pretense that she was nervous about the following day, and her tact in refraining from pointing out Horace's gaffe, showed that she was already a diplomat of some skill.

Both of Halt's eyebrows were raised in surprise as he repeated the last two words "Some Skill!?" to which Alyss blushed.

Jenny, of course, would gravitate immediately to the castle kitchens, domain of Master Chubb, Redmont's head chef. He was a man renowned throughout the kingdom for the banquets served in the castle's massive dining hall. Jenny loved food and cooking, and her easygoing nature and unfailing good humor would make her an invaluable staff member in the turmoil of the castle kitchens.

"Although not anymore" Jenny added. Baron Arald looked a little disappointed with that. Jenny had been a cook who rivaled Master Chubb.

Battleschool would be Horace's choice.

"Obviously," Sir Rodney interrupted. "You did make it clear that's what you wanted."

Will glanced at his wardmate now, hungrily tucking into the roast turkey, ham and potatoes that he had heaped onto his plate. Horace was big for his age and a natural athlete.

"That hasn't changed then." Cassandra said, smiling at her husband.

The chances that he would be refused were virtually nonexistent. Horace was exactly the type of recruit that Sir Rodney looked for in his warrior apprentices. Strong, athletic, fit. And, thought Will a trifle sourly, not too bright.

"Hey!" all the offended knights shouted, to which Erak laughed at them. He soon stopped when Halt told him "The same thing can be said about you Scandians."

Battleschool was the path to knighthood for boys like Horace-born commoners but with the physical abilities to serve as knights of the kingdom. Which left Will. What would his choice be?

"Definitely not what i expected," Will said with a grin, then quickly added "Not that I'd change it for anything," in response to Halt's upraised eyebrow.

More importantly, as Horace had pointed out, what Craftmaster would accept him as an apprentice? For Choosing Day was the pivotal point in the life of the castle wards. They were orphan children raised by the generosity of Baron Arald, the Lord of Redmont Fief. For the most part, their parents had died in the service of the fief, and the Baron saw it as his responsibility to care for and raise the children of his former subjects-and to give them an opportunity to improve their station in life wherever possible.

Lady Sandra beemed at her husband.

Choosing Day provided that opportunity. Each year, castle wards turning fifteen could apply to be apprenticed to the masters of the various crafts that served the castle and its people. Ordinarily, craft apprentices were selected by dint of their parents' occupations or influence with the Craftmasters. The castle wards usually had no such influence and this was their chance to win a future for themselves. Those wards who weren't chosen, or for whom no openings could be found, would be assigned to farming families in the nearby village, providing farm labor to raise the crops and animals that fed the castle inhabitants.

Remembering a certain conversation with Halt, Will started laughing. Everyone in the room, apart from Halt who and guessed why Will was laughing, looked at him in confusion.

It was rare for this to happen, Will knew. The Baron and his Craftmasters usually went out of their way to fit the wards into one craft or another. But it could happen and it was a fate he feared more than anything. Horace caught his eye now and gave him a smug smile. " Still planning on applying for Battleschool, Will?" he asked through a mouthful of turkey and potatoes. "Better eat something then. You'll need to build yourself up a little"

There was silence in the room at past Horace's last statement, until Jenny broke it by saying "You still need to build yourself up." To which Will nodded, conceding the point.

He snorted with laughter and Will glowered at him. A few weeks previously, Horace had overheard Will confiding to Alyss that he desperately wanted to be selected for Battleschool, and he had made Will's life a misery ever since, pointing out on every possible occasion that Will's slight build was totally unsuited for the rigors of Battleschool training. The fact that Horace was probably right only made matters worse.

"It's true." Will retorted, "From what I've heard from Horace I wouldn't have made it a week." Horace appreciated the way Will was able to laugh at himself and take the tension from the room.

Where Horace was tall and muscular, Will was small and wiry. He was agile and fast and surprisingly strong, but he simply didn't have the size that he knew was required of Battleschool apprentices. He'd hoped against hope for the past few years that he would have what people called his "growing spurt" before the Choosing Day came around.

"Halt hasn't had his growing spurt yet either." Gilan said with a grin at him old mentor.

But it had never happened and now the day was nearly here. As Will said nothing, Horace sensed that he had scored a verbal hit. This was a rarity in their turbulent relationship.

"It still is a rarity with us." Horace said with a laugh.

"A rarity?" Will replied, "It never happens!"

"I'm sure we'll find an example somewhere in these books."

Over the past few years, he and Will had clashed repeatedly. Being the stronger of the two, Horace usually got the better of Will, although very occasionally Will's speed and agility allowed him to get in a surprise kick or a punch and then escape before Horace could catch him. But while Horace generally had the best of their physical clashes, it was unusual for him to win any of their verbal encounters. Will's wit was as agile as the rest of him and he almost always managed to have the last word. In fact, it was this tendency that often led to trouble between them: Will was yet to learn that having the last word was not always a good idea.

Halt looked at his former apprentice. "You still have to learn that."

Will glanced up, "So do you." and to Halt's annoyance, Crowley agreed, doing well to hide his grin.

Horace decided now to press his advantage. "You need muscles to get into Battleschool, Will. Real muscles,"

"I have muscles." Will muttered under his breath.

"Of course you do, dear." Alyss replied. Will wondered if she had always been this sarcastic.

he said, glancing at the others around the table to see if anyone disagreed. The other wards, uncomfortable at the growing tension between the two boys, concentrated on their plates." Particularly between the ears," Will replied and, unfortunately, Jenny couldn't refrain from giggling.

Sir Rodney glanced up at Will, "Do you have something against knights?"

"He gets that from you." Baron Arald accused, looking at Halt, who adopted a look of innocence.

Horace's face flushed and he started to rise from his seat. But Will was quicker and he was already at the door before Horace could disentangle himself from his chair. He contented himself with hurling a final insult after his retreating wardmate." That's right! Run away, Will No-Name! You're a no-name and nobody will want you as an apprentice!"

"...I'm so sorry, Will" Horace said, almost whispering in the awkward silence.

"It's fine" Will replied in a tight voice. Hearing it, Alyss held her husband's hand under the table.

In the anteroom outside, Will heard the parting sally and felt blood flush to his cheeks. It was the taunt he hated most, although he had tried never to let Horace know that, sensing that he would provide the bigger boy with a weapon if he did. The truth was, nobody knew Will's second name. Nobody knew who his parents had been.

Halt looked down at the table, his guilt ridden face hidden by the shadow of his cowl. Despite Will's protest to the opposite, he still felt guilty for making Will have to grow up the ward.

Unlike his yearmates, who had lived in the fief before their parents had died and whose family histories were known, Will had appeared, virtually out of nowhere, as a newborn baby.

"Reminds me of a certain group…" King Duncan mentioned, pointing at the 4 rangers in the room.

He had been found, wrapped in a small blanket and placed in a basket, on the steps of the ward building fifteen years ago. A note had been attached to the blanket, reading simply: His mother died in childbirth. His father died a hero. Please care for him. His name is Will.

The first of those lines caused Baron Arald to frown. 'His mother died in childbirth'? He'd heard the story from Halt when he'd first brought Will to Redmont. Then he dismissed the thought. Halt would have known what he was doing.

That year, there had been only one other ward. Alyss's father was a cavalry lieutenant who had died in the battle at Hackham Heath, when Morgarath's Wargal army had been defeated and driven back to the mountains. Alyss's mother, devastated by her loss, succumbed to a fever some weeks after giving birth. So there was plenty of room in the Ward for the unknown child, and Baron Arald was, at heart, a kindly man.

"That's definitely true." Jenny commented, followed by enthusiastic agreement from the rest of the rest of the ward mates agreed.

Even though the circumstances were unusual, he had given permission for Will to be accepted as a ward of Castle Redmont. It seemed logical to assume that, if the note were true, Will's father had died in the war against Morgarath, and since Baron Arald had taken a leading part in that war, he felt duty bound to honor the unknown father's sacrifice. So Will had become a Redmont ward, raised and educated by the Baron's generosity. As time passed, the others had gradually joined him and Alyss until there were five in their year group. But while the others had memories of their parents or, in Alyss's case, people who had known them and who could tell her about them, Will knew nothing of his past.

Halt sighed. Why couldn't he have found out more information about Will's parents? Maybe it could have made his time easier, even if Halt had to face the consequences. He would gladly face them for the boy, now the young man, who had become like his son.

That was why he had invented the story that had sustained him throughout his childhood in the Ward. And, as the years passed and he added detail and color to the story, he eventually came to believe it himself. His father, he knew, had died a hero's death. So it made sense to create a picture of him as a hero—a knight warrior in full armor, fighting against the Wargal hordes, cutting them down left and right until eventually he was overcome by sheer weight of numbers. Will had pictured the tall figure

"Wait? Tall? Where do you think you got your shortness from?" Gilan teased, causing the room to laugh.

so often in his mind, seeing every detail of his armor and his equipment but never being able to visualize his face. As a warrior, his father would expect him to follow in his footsteps.

"Perhaps you two should have swapped places" Sir Rodney joked, gesturing to Will and Gilan.

That was why selection for Battleschool was so important to Will. And that was why the more unlikely it became that he would be selected, the more desperately he clung to the hope that he might.

"Unfortunately, that's how it often works." George said, sadly.

He exited from the Ward building into the darkened castle yard. The sun was long down and the torches placed every twenty meters or so on the castle walls shed a flickering, uneven light. He hesitated a moment. He would not return to the Ward and face Horace's continued taunts.

Horace sank deeper into his chair.

To do so would only lead to another fight between them-a fight that Will knew that he would probably lose. George would probably try to analyze the situation for him, looking at both sides of the question and thoroughly confusing the issue.

As she finished the sentence, Jenny looked at George and raised an eyebrow, remembering all the times George had done exactly that.

Alyss and Jenny might try to comfort him, he knew-Alyss particularly since they had grown up together. But at the moment he didn't want their sympathy

To which Alyss and Jenny shared a glance, and shook their heads. "Men!" they said simultaneously.

and he couldn't face Horace's taunts, so he headed for the one place where he knew he could find solitude. The huge fig tree growing close by the castle's central tower had often afforded him a haven.

"So there's where you'd disappear to." Alyss said thoughtfully.

"Great, I can't hide there anymore…" Will complained, but when Alyss glared at him, he was unable to keep the smirk from creeping onto his face.

Heights held no fear for Will and he climbed smoothly into the tree, continuing long after another might have stopped, until he was in the lighter branches at the very top-branches that swayed and dipped under his weight. In the past, he had often escaped from Horace up here. The bigger boy couldn't match Will's speed in the tree

"I don't think anyone can." Halt said, raising his eyebrow at Will, which for Halt, was the equivalent of a huge grin.

and he was unwilling to follow as high as this. Will found a convenient fork and wedged himself in it, his body giving slightly to the movement of the tree as the branches swayed in the evening breeze.

Crowley copied Halt in raising his eyebrow at Will, impressed by what he'd just heard.

Below, the foreshortened figures of the watch made their rounds of the castle yard. He heard the door of the Ward building open and, glancing down, saw Alyss emerge, looking around the yard for him in vain. The tall girl hesitated a few moments, then, seeming to shrug, turned back inside. The elongated rectangle of light that the open door threw across the yard was cut off as she closed the door softly behind her. Strange, he thought, how seldom people tend to look up.

"Which you take advantage of as much as possible, then?" Cassie asked Will.

"Pretty much." Will answered.

There was a rustle of soft feathers and a barn owl landed on the next branch, its head swiveling, its huge eyes catching every last ray of the faint light. It studied him without concern, seeming to know it had nothing to fear from him. It was a hunter. A silent flyer. A ruler of the night. "At Least you know who you are," he said softly to the bird.

"A bird!" Crowley deadpanned, causing a peal of laughter from the room. (Credit to Dorano1, i couldn't resist)

It swiveled its head again, then launched itself off into the darkness, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Gradually, as he sat there, the lights in the castle windows went out, one by one. The torches burnt down to smoldering husks and were replaced at midnight by the change of watch. Eventually, there was only one light left burning and that, he knew, was in the Baron's study, where the Lord of Redmont was still presumably at work, poring over reports and papers.

A loud groan came from where Baron Arald sat as he remembered the amount of reports he'd had that night.

The study was virtually level with Will's position in the tree and he could see the burly figure of the Baron seated at his desk.

"Spying already?" Duncan joked.

"I wasn't spying!" Will said defensively. "It was just a coincidence", but as he saw the grin on the King's face he realised he was the victim of another practical joke, except this time not from one of his fellow rangers.

Finally Baron Arald rose, stretched and leaned forward to extinguish the lamp as he left the room, heading for his sleeping quarters on the floor above. Now the castle was asleep, except for the guards on the walls, who kept constant watch. In less than nine hours, Will realized, he would face the Choosing. Silently, miserably, fearing the worst, he climbed down from the tree and made his way to his bed in the darkened boys' dormitory in the Ward.

"Chapter finished." Jenny told the room, passing on the book.

A/N ArelaCannald: Thank you for the review, I didn't realize how long each chapter would take when I started.