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to lengthen in the open fields beside the forest, he came to a decision.
    He had to know what was in the paper. And he had to know tonight.
    Once night fell, he made his way back to the castle, avoiding villagers and castle folk alike, and secreted himself in the branches of the fig tree again. On the way, he had slipped unnoticed into the kitchens and helped himself to bread, cheese and apples. He munched moodily on these, barely tasting them, as the evening passed and the castle began to settle down for the night.
    He observed the movements of the guards, getting a feeling for their timing as they went on their regular rounds. In addition to the guard troop, there was a sergeant on duty at the doorway of the tower that led to Baron Arald’s quarters. But he was overweight and sleepy and there was little chance that he would pose a risk to Will. After all, he had no intention of using the door or the stairway.
    Over the years, his insatiable curiosity, and a penchant for going places where he wasn’t supposed to, had developed within him the skill of moving across seemingly open space without being seen.
    As the wind stirred the upper branches of the trees, they created moving patterns in the moonlight – patterns that Will now used to great effect. He instinctively matched his movement to the rhythm of the trees, blending easily into the pattern of the yard, becoming part of it and so being concealed by it. In a way, the lack of obvious cover made his task a little easier. The fat sergeant didn’t expect anyone to be moving across the open space of the yard. So, not expecting to see anyone, he failed to do so.
    Breathless, Will flattened himself against the rough stoneof the tower wall. The sergeant was barely five metres away and Will could hear his heavy breathing, but a small buttress in the wall hid him from the man’s sight. He studied the wall in front of him, craning back to look up. The Baron’s office window was a long way up, and further round the tower. To reach it, he would have to climb up, then work his way across the face of the wall, to a spot beyond the point where the sergeant stood guard, then up again to the window. He licked his lips nervously. Unlike the smooth inner walls of the tower, the huge blocks of stone that comprised the tower’s outer wall had large gaps between them. Climbing would be no problem. He’d have plenty of foot and hand holds all the way up. In some places, the stone would have been worn smooth by the weather over the years, he knew, and he’d have to go carefully. But he’d climbed all the other three towers at some time in the past and he expected no real difficulty with this one.
    But this time, if he were seen he wouldn’t be able to pass it off as a prank. He would be climbing in the middle of the night to a part of the castle where he had no right to be. After all, the Baron didn’t post guards on this tower for the fun of it. People were supposed to stay away unless they had business here.
    He rubbed his hands together nervously. What could they do to him? He had already been passed over in the Choosing. Nobody wanted him. He was condemned to a life in the fields already. What could be worse than that?
    But there was a nagging doubt at the back of his mind: he wasn’t absolutely sure that he was condemned to that life. A faint spark of hope still remained. Perhaps the Baron would relent. Perhaps, if Will pleaded with him in themorning, and explained about his father and how important it was for him to be accepted for Battleschool, there was a very faint chance that his wish would be granted. And then, once he was accepted, he could show how his eagerness and dedication would make him a worthy student, until his growing spurt happened.
    On the other hand, if he were caught in the next few minutes, not even that small chance would remain. He had no idea what they would do to him if he were caught but he could be reasonably