The Story of Two

Chapter 3

"All right, candidates! This way! And look lively!"
    The speaker, correctly the shouter, was Martin, secretary to Baron Arald. Ashlyn rolled her eyes at the secretary. The six wards rose from the long wooden benches the were seated on. They were all nervous now that the day had finally arrived.
"Come on, come on!" Martin yelled impatiently. Alyss, finally, lead the way to the big doors. The others slowly shuffled behind her. Ashlyn came in behind all the others. She was nervous, her hands were sweaty and she had bad nausea. She was wondering what the others would think of her choice. She saw Will and the other wards looking around. The other wards had never been in this part of the castle before, but she has from the countless times she got into trouble for sneaking out. The tower held the administrative section and the Baron's private apartments. It was rarely visited by those of lower rank, such as castle wards, unless they got into major trouble. The room was huge and the ceiling was very high. The walls were built with giant stone blocks, fitted together with small lines of mortar in between them. On the eastern wall there was a huge window that had big wooden shutters that could be closed in case they was bad weather. Today, however, it was open letting the sunlight shine into the room.
    "Come on now! Stand in line, stand in line!" Martin seemed to be enjoying his time to be in control. Ashlyn rolled her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. The group slowly dragged their feet into line and he studies them, his mouth twisted in disapproval.
    "In size place! Tallest this end!" He pointed to where he wanted the tallest to stand. The wards slowly rearranged themselves. Horace was the tallest. After him, was Alyss. Then George, half a head shorter than Alyss. He stood in his usual slouched posture. Ashlyn came after George, being the about a quarter of an inch shorter than him. She was in her usual clothing. Alyss and Jenny had tried to get her to wear a dress, but gave up after countless times of her refusing. Ashlyn smiled to herself, wondering where they got the idea that they could make her wear a dress. Jenny came after her and will was the last of the six wards.
    "Come on! Sharpen up, sharpen up! Let's see you at attention there," Martin continued, then broke off as a low voice interrupted him.
    "I don't think that's totally necessary, Martin."
     It was Baron Arald, who had enter almost unobserved, with the exception of Ashlyn, who thought it was hard to miss his big, bulky frame, by way of a smaller door behind his massive desk. Now it was Martin who brought himself to what he considered to be a position of attention, with his skinny elbows held out from his sides, his heels forced together do that his unmistakably bowed legs were widely separated at the knees, and his head thrown back.
    Baron Arald raised his eyes to heaven. Sometimes his secretary could be a little overwhelming on these occasions like today. The Baron was a big man broad in shoulder and waist and heavily muscled, as was necessary for a knight of the realm. It was well known, however, that Baron Arald was fond of his food and drink, so his considerable bulk was not totally attributable to muscle.
      He had a short, neatly cut black beard that, like his hair, was starting to show the traces of gray that went with his forty-two years. He had a strong jaw, a large nose and dark, piercing eyes under heavy brows.
   "Sir!" Martin said at top volume, causing the Baron to slightly cringe. "The candidates are assembled!"
    "I can see that," Baron Arald replied patiently. "Perhaps you might be good enough to ask the Craftmasters to step in as well?"
    "Sir!" Martin responded, making and attempt to click his heels together, but his shoes were made of a soft leather and his attempt failed. He marched toward the main door of the study. As Martin put his hand on the door handle the Baron stopped him once more.
    "Martin?" he said softly. As the secretary turned with a questioning look back at him, he continued in the same quiet tone, "Ask them. Don't shout at them. Craftmasters tend to not like that."
    Yes, sir" said Martin. He opened the door and, trying very hard to speak in a lower tone, said, "Craftmasters. The Baron is ready."
    The Craftmasters entered the room in no particular order. As a group, they admired and respected one another and so they rarely stood on strict ceremonial procedure. Sir Rodney, head of the Battleschool, came first. He was a tall broad-shouldered man, he word the usual chain mail shirt under a white surcoat, which had his crest on it. He wore a sword belt with, of course, a sword. No knight would be seen in public without one. He was around the Baron's age. He had blue eyes and what would have been a rather handsome face, if it wasn't for his broken nose. He had a huge mustache, but he didn't have a beard.
    After Rodney was Ulf, the Horsemaster. He was responsible for training and caring for the castle's battlehorses. He had brown eyes and had a muscular build. He wore a simple leather vest over a wool shirt and leggings. He had tall riding boots made of leather that came up past his knees.
    After Ulf was Lady Pauline. She was slim, gray-haired, and elegant. She was very beautiful with she was young, but she still had the grace and style to turn men's heads. Lady Pauline was the head of the Diplomatic Service in Redmont. The Baron often said that girls made better diplomats because boy tended to look to physical means as the way of solving problems.
    Nigel, the Scribemaster, came behind Lady Pauline. They had been talking while they waited for Martin to tell them the Baron was ready. Nigel and Pauline were close friends as well as colleagues. Nigel was a small wiry man with a quick, inquisitive face. He had black hair, his features were thin and his dark eyes never stopped roaming the room.
    Master Chubb came in last. He was the castle cook. He was fat and round-bellied. He was wearing a cook's white jacket and a tall hat. He was know to have a bad temper that could flare very quickly. He was florid-faced and had red, rapidly receding hair. Master Chubb always carried a wooded ladle with him. It was often used as an offensive weapon, landing on the heads of careless or clumsy kitchen apprentices.
    "The Craftmasters are in place, sir!" Martin said, his voice getting louder. Once again, Ashlyn rolled her eyes at the zealous secretary.
    "So I see," he said quietly, then added, in a more formal tone, "Good morning, Lady Pauline. Good morning, gentlemen."
    They replied and the Baron turned to Martin once again. "Perhaps we might proceed?"
    Martin nodded several times, he took out a stack of papers and began shuffling through them.
    "Where did those come from," Ashlyn thought, recalling that he wasn't holding them before.
    "Right, the Baron's waiting! The Baron's waiting! Who's first?"
    Ashlyn nervously looked around. Her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Her eyes landed on Halt, the Ranger. The one that threw her in the river. He must have entered when everyone's attention was on the Craftmasters.
  "What was he doing here, I thought Rangers didn't come to Choosing Day," she thought. She had a surge of hope that he had come because he might want her as an apprentice. She saw him staring at Will. Then she saw Will look up and hold his gaze. When Will looked away Halt's gaze shifted towards her. She kept looking at him with inquisitive eyes until she heard someone speaking. It was Martin, again.
    "Now then, who's first? Who's first?"
    The Baron sighed audibly. " Why don't we take the first one in line?" he suggested in a reasonable tone, and Martin nodded several times.
    "Of course, my lord. Of course. First in line, step forward and face the Baron."
    Horace hesitantly stepped forward out of the line and stood at attention. The Baron studied him for a few seconds.
    "Name?" he said, and Horace answered, stumbling over the correct way to address the Baron.
    "Horace Altman, sir . . . my lord."
Ashlyn's mind started to drift and she stopped paying attention. She had trouble focusing because of her nerves. Her mind wandered to memories of when they were all little and naive. She remembered when she first saw a Ranger. That was the day she became interested in the mysterious group.

Flashback:
A five year old Ashlyn was climbing trees outside when she heard a guard yell.
"Open up the gates." Ashlyn climbed down to see what the commotion was. She saw a figure in a green cloak riding through the gates. The man stopped his horse then climbed down. A stable boy took care of his horse, the man went to the castle door. Ashlyn followed him, trying best to keep her steps as silent as possible. Ashlyn wasn't paying attention and was too busy looking around to notice that the Ranger stopped. She kept on walking and bumped into someone.
"Ow," she said rubbing her nose. She looked up to the man in the cloak, "Sorry for running into you sir."
    "Don't worry about little one. What's your name?" A gruff yet gentle voice came from inside the hood.
    "I'm Ashlyn! I'm a ward here!" she said with enthusiasm.
    "Why were you following me?" he asked the young child. Ashlyn looked down at her feet nervously.
    "Well, I have never seen you before and I was wondering who you were and what you do. I have never seen someone dressed like you before," she said looking up at the Ranger with curiosity.
    "I'm a Ranger and I'm here to deliver reports to the Baron," the Ranger looked around. "I think it's time for you to go back courtyard, your friends might be looking for you."
"Alright!" she said and began walking away. She turned around and added one last thing. "It was nice talking to you Mr. Ranger!" She ran off back towards the door that she entered through.
"What an interesting child," the Ranger said to himself.
   
    When Ashlyn came back to her senses George was stepping up. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. He finally managed to speak, but nobody in the room do could hear him. The Baron leaned forward and cupped his ears.
    "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that," he said.
    George looked up at the Baron and, with an obvious effort, spoke in a small voice."G-George Carter, sir. Scribeschool, sir."
    Martin, who was a stickler for details, drew a breath to correct George for not addressing the Baron correctly. Before he could do so, and to everyone's relief, Baron Arald stepped in.
    "Very well, Martin. Let it go." Martin looked a little annoyed, but followed his orders. The Baron glanced at Nigel, one eyebrow raised in question.
    "Acceptable, my lord," he said, adding,"I've seen some of George's work and he really does have a gift for calligraphy."
    The Baron looked doubtful."He's not the most confident of speakers, though, is he, Scribemaster? That could be a problem if he has to offer legal advice at any time in the future."
    Ashlyn zoned out again, unable to keep focus. Her nerves increasing by the second. She was trying to keep her breathing under control as well as the shaking in her hand. She just barely noticed George getting accepted. Her nerves only got worse when Martin called her.
    "The next person step forward," Martin
    "Ashlyn Brazewood, my lord," she said trying to sound confident, but her voice was still a little shaky. "And I would like to be apprenticed as a Ranger." The Craftmasters, and her wardmates looked at her shocked. Ashlyn could feel the stares of disapproval from most of the people in the room. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
    Everyone was too surprised to speak. It was quiet for what seemed like hours for Ashlyn. Finally the silence was broken when the Baron spoke.
    "What do you think Halt," he asked the Ranger.
    "I will take her," Halt replied simply.
    "Okay Ashlyn, report to Halt's cabin at six o'clock tomorrow morning," the Baron said. Ashlyn gave a relieved sigh and stepped back into line, but still feeling everybody's gaze on her. "Now the next is . . ."
    Jenny was already stepping forward.
    Ashlyn let her mind wander. "Did I make the right choice," she thought. "Am I going to be able to do this." She was starting to doubt her choice. She was starting to think the worst possible outcomes of her decision. "No, this is what I'm meant to do. I know it," she assured her self.
When she came back to attention she saw Halt giving the Baron a slip of paper. From the look in Will's eyes, it looks like he didn't get picked for anything. Ashlyn gave Will an apologetic glance, as they excited

A/n
Sorry this took so long. Also . . . Yes I do realize Ashlyn zoned out three times, but that's because I'm really lazy and didn't want to write out the entire choosing day. I will update a lot more over Thanksgiving, because I will have a lot of free time (hopefully). The next chapter is going to be the first day as an apprentice for Ashlyn. As always criticism is helpful as long as you are kind about it and please point out grammar mistakes. I tend to make a lot. Peace out for now.
-Catherine