The blade was razor keen, and slightly blued. The hilt and crosspiece were inlaid with gold and the boar's head symbol was repeated on the pommel. The sword itself seemed to have a life of its own. Perfectly balanced, it seemed light as a feather in his grasp. He glanced from the beautiful, jeweled sword to the plain leather grip of his Ranger knife.

"They're a knight's weapons, Will," the Baron urged. "But you've proved over and again that you're worthy of them. Just say the word and they're yours."

Will slid the sword back into its scabbard and stood slowly up. Here was everything he had ever wished for. And yet…

He thought of the long days in the forest with Halt. The fierce satisfaction that he felt when one of his arrows struck home, exactly where he had aimed it, exactly as he had seen it in his mind before releasing it. He thought of the hours spent learning to track animals and men. Learning the art of concealment. He thought of Tug, of the pony's courage and devotion.

And he thought of the sheer pleasure that came when he heard Halt's simple "Well done" as he completed a task to his satisfaction. And suddenly, he knew. He looked up at the Baron and said in a firm voice:

"I am a Ranger, my lord."

There was a murmur of surprise from the crowd.

The Baron stepped closer and said in a low voice, "Are you sure, Will? Don't turn this down just because you think Halt might be offended or disappointed. He insisted that this is up to you. He's already agreed to abide by your decision." Will shook his head. He was more certain than ever now. "I thank you for the honor, my lord." He glanced at the Battlemaster, and saw, to his surprise, that Sir Rodney was smiling and nodding his head in approval. "And I thank the Battlemaster and his knights for their generous offer. But I am a Ranger." He hesitated. "I mean no offense by this, my lord," he finished awkwardly.

A huge smile creased the Baron's features and he gripped Will's hand in his enormous grip."And I take none, Will. None at all! Your loyalty to your craft and your Craftmaster does honor to you and to all of us who know you!" He gave Will's hand one final, firm shake and released him.

Will bowed and turned away to walk down that long, long aisle again. Again, the cheering started and this time, he kept his head high as the cheers rolled around him and echoed to the rafters of the Great Hall. Then, as he neared the massive doors once more, he saw a sight that stopped him in his tracks, stunned with surprise.

For, standing a little aside from the crowd, wrapped in his gray and green mottled cloak, his eyes shadowed by the cowl, was Halt. And he was smiling.

Epilogue

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, AFTER ALL THE NOISE AND CELEBRATIONS had died down, Will sat alone on the tiny verandah of Halt's small cottage. In his hand, he held a small bronze amulet, shaped like an oak leaf, with a steel chain threaded through a ring at the top.

"It's our symbol," his teacher had explained as he handed it to him after the events at the castle. "The Rangers' equivalent of a coat of arms." Then he fumbled inside his own collar and produced an identically shaped oak leaf, on a chain around his neck. The shape was identical, but the color was different. The oak leaf Halt wore was made of silver. "Bronze is the apprentice color," Halt told him. "When you finish your learning, you'll receive a silver oak leaf like this one. We all wear them in the Ranger Corps, either silver or bronze." He looked away from the boy for a few minutes, then added, his voice a little husky, "Strictly speaking, you shouldn't receive it until you've passed your first Assessment. But I doubt anyone will argue about it, the way things have turned out."

Now the curiously shaped piece of metal gleamed dully in Will's hand as he thought of the decision he'd made. It seemed so strange to him that he had voluntarily given up the one thing that he had spent most of his life hoping for: the chance to go through Battleschool and take his place as a knight in Castle Redmont's army.

He twirled the bronze oak leaf on its chain around his index finger, letting it wind right up to the finger, then spiral loose again. He sighed deeply. Life could be so complicated. Deep within himself, he felt he had made the right decision. And yet, way down deeper still, there was a tiny thread of doubt.

With a start, he realized that there was someone standing beside him. It was Halt, he recognized as he turned quickly. The Ranger stooped and sat beside the boy on the rough pine planking of the narrow verandah. Before them, the low sun of the late afternoon filtered through the luminous green leaves of the forest, the light seeming to dance and gyrate as the light breeze stirred the leaves. "A big day," he said softly, and Will nodded. "And a big decision that you made," the Ranger said, after several more minutes' silence between them. This time, Will turned to face him. "Halt, did I make the right decision?" he asked finally, the anguish clear in his voice. Halt placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward a little, squinting into the dappled glare through the trees. "As far as I'm concerned, yes. I chose you as an apprentice and I can see all the potential you have in that role. I've even come to almost enjoy having you around and getting under my feet," he added, with the barest hint of a smile. "But my feelings, my wishes, aren't important in this. The right decision for you is the one you want most."

"I always wanted to become a knight," Will said, then realized, with a sense of surprise, that he'd phrased the statement in the past tense. And yet he knew that a part of him still wanted it. "It is possible, of course," said Halt quietly, "to want to do two different things at the same time. Then it just becomes a choice of knowing which one you want most." Not for the first time, Will felt that Halt had some way of reading his mind. "If you can sum it up in one thought, what's the main reason you feel a little disappointed that you refused the Baron's offer?" Halt continued.

Will considered the question. "I guess…" he said slowly, "I feel that by turning down Battleschool, I'm somehow letting my father down." Halt's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Your father?" he repeated, and Will nodded. "He was a mighty warrior," he told the Ranger. "A knight. He died at Hackham Heath, fighting the Wargals – a hero."

"You know all this, do you?" Halt asked him, and Will nodded again. This was the dream that had sustained him through the long, lonely years of never knowing who he was or what he was meant to be. The dream had become reality for him now. "He was a man any son would be proud of," he said finally, and Halt nodded. "That's certainly true. " There was something in his voice that made Will hesitate. Halt wasn't simply agreeing out of politeness. Will turned quickly to him, realizing the full implications of the Ranger's words. "You knew him, Halt? You knew my father?" There was a light of hope in the boy's eyes that cried out for the truth and the Ranger nodded soberly. "Yes. I did. I didn't know him for long. But I think I could say I knew him well. And you're right. You can be extremely proud of him."

"He was a mighty warrior, wasn't he?" said Will. "He was a soldier," Halt agreed, "and a brave fighter."

"I knew it!" Will said happily. "He was a great knight!"

"A sergeant," Halt said softly, and not unkindly.

Will's jaw hung open, the next words he had been about to say frozen in his throat. Finally, he managed, in a confused voice: "A sergeant?" Halt nodded. He could see the disappointment in the boy's eyes and he put an arm around his shoulders. "Don't judge a man's quality by his position in life, Will. Your father, Daniel, was a loyal and brave soldier. He didn't have the opportunity to go to Battleschool because he began life as a farmer. But, if he had, he would have been one of the greatest of knights."