by V R Rutledge

Created on: July 24, 2008

Becoming a Baron

"Another day of exercise and study", Gladriel had learned to hate that motto. In the years since he began study to be a knight, he had seen it every day, and every day it had proven to be more of a curse than a motto. Endless exercise, and constant study were his personal demons. He had grown to hate the competition that was so prevalent, even though he understood it. The grey castle walls of his room were a dismal reminder that he was not the finest candidate in the school. Had he not been a lesser' son, or had his father not been merely a Baron from the distant western lands, perhaps he would have had a better room.

"Bother," he thought, " I have three older brothers and two mothers. I'm lucky I got in at all."
Gladriel Von Samovar, or Sam, as he was known to his friends, was actually more skilled than lucky. For a third son to reach the year of errant was almost unprecedented. If he qualified, he could receive a quest, complete it and become a knight in his father's Barony. That would insure him a stipend and make his father not only proud, but slightly more powerful in the world of court politics. It might even allow him to marry well, and provide his descendants with a hope of title. It was this possibility that got him up and off to training each day.
"Hey Sam," Ace, or Prince Acernon, was looking altogether too cheerful, as he always did." You going to breakfast in the tents or at the Kitchen?"
"Tent food for me," Sam replied, "I prefer my meals without taunts, when I can get them so."
" I wouldn't mind a meal without the mage knights myself," Ace agreed, " They could spoil the appetite of a man in the last stages of starvation."
"Or even mine?" Sam smiled. Ace had a habit of saying that Sam would eat 'anything he could arm wrestle down his throat. After ten or twelve hours in the lists, Sam thought he just might be right. His mood brighter, Sam finished dressing and headed after Ace to the cooking tents.
The Tents, as they were called, were actually pavilions and quite well made at that. They sported good, inexpensive food, another attraction to a third son, and they were generally clean.
While the Kitchen prepared food using ancient devices that could produce anything, a seat there was a bit pricey and the company was usually composed of the children of greater nobles who were in Knight training just to augment their credentials for future titles. Almost to a man, they held the second and third son candidates in contempt, with no

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