“A-a farmhand? After I’ve spent the last twelve years in Astray Academy in Rosendale, all you want me to do is be a farm hand?” This was almost more than Bastion could take. Okay if his father didn’t care for or about him, no surprise there. Whatever if Duke Rose wouldn’t pay for the rest of his education, in recent years he saw that one coming. But even with all he had learned, being reduced to a barley piker was just too much.

“Twelve years isn’t a complete education,” Franklin's words almost mirrored Bastions thoughts, but in the wrong direction- just as Bastion was being led again in the wrong direction, away from the overseer's house. “Besides, again, where’s your proof? Lord Were vouched for -”

“My word is my proof!” Snapped Bastion at the back of Franklin's black-haired head. His voice was so angry after indignation after indignation that Franklin stopped and turned to face him, his green eyes slits in the afternoon sun.

“And who are you to me? What does your word mean to me? You are nobody, a barley farmer. And I am your new boss, so you better watch your tone, worker.” Franklin shot, not the least intimidated by Bastions larger stature. Bastion stomped up to Franklin as he spoke. Now Franklin had to look almost straight up to glower in the younger boys face.

“Or do you not even want that job? Hmm? Care to try your luck somewhere else? If that’s the case, then luck indeed you will need! I doubt you could even find another field willing to take you in as a farm hand. ‘Cause the only reason you got that here is that letter you brought along with you.” Franklin laughed and began walking away again, not caring about what Bastion could come up with to say. However, after about twenty strides with no sound behind him signaling Bastions following, Franklin sighed angrily and turned to face Bastion again.