After the king departed, Damian regarded me intently again. I returned his gaze and decided in that moment that I refused to be intimidated by him, or by anyone else. I may not have chosen this role for myself but learning that my father had once served with distinction under the king’s father, I determined that I would not dishonor him or shame his name by acting like a whiny child who did not want to be here. I was here. I would put my best effort into living up to my father’s reputation.

I refused to break gaze with Damian. The rest of the room had gone silent and were observing with rapt attention. Captain Davie leaned on his cane and regarded us keenly. It was as if the entire room knew this facedown needed to happen now; that Damian needed to decide in this moment.

After what felt like forever, but was really only a couple minutes, Damian extended his hand toward me. He held it extended, an invitation. The pain of the invitation plain on his features. I extended my hand toward him. He extended his hand further, so my palm was parallel with his forearm and his palm parallel with mine. He then gripped my forearm in a firm embrace. An action I copied. His grip was firm and his gaze intense. He looked as if he wanted to speak but didn’t know how. His grip tightened, beginning to hurt. His gaze unwavering. The warning clear. Do not cross him. After a moment, his eased his grip, and released my arm. Turning, he plodded back to his bed, swung himself back on the bunk, and lay back out of sight.

The tension in me immediately released. I had not even realized how tense I had become until that moment. And I suddenly felt very tired and weary. The days of travel, the apprehension of the unknown, the parting from my brother’s, and the confrontation of Damian’s greeting had all finally taken its toll.

But my day was not over yet. The captain stood waiting and I still had yet to find a place to rest my pack. Captain Davies seemed to understand that and now took his approach.

“That bunk over there is yours.” He indicated a bunk three down from the back of the room on the right-hand side, near where the soldiers sat at the table, quiet and observing. They gawked unabashedly, unnerving me with their blatant conspicuousness. The captain continued, “Toss your stuff there and take a walk with me. You can return later to put it away and rest from your travels.”

I did as he said. I felt very self-conscience as I walked down the aisle toward the back of the room. Every eye was still on me. This change in interest was disconcerting. Where once I had been seen as unfit for their attention, now they seemed unable to remove their attention from me. All except for Damian who had promptly closed his eyes and was uninterested in anything in the room. I reached the bunk, tossed my bag on the bottom, turned, and walked back toward the captain still feeling the eyes in the room following my every move.

Without a word, the captain turned as I reached him and began walking back out of the barracks into the sunlight. The only sounds in the barracks were those of his cane as they struck the floor. He led me, wordlessly, through the streets until he came to the training ground. As we approached, I could hear the clang of metal, the grunts and shouts of men, the snap of bows and wing of arrows, the slap of flesh as men sparred, practiced, and trained.

Captain Davies stopped a few feet from the edge of the training ground and silently watched the soldier’s progress. I stood next to him and waiting, unwilling to break the silence or rush the captain into speaking. If anything, farming life had taught me patience and the simple joy of silence. My father had instilled in me a quiet sense that taught me to take in all that was happening around me. He had always taught us boys to be observant of our surroundings, to note even the little things that most people tended to overlook. His military training and role as Captain of the guard cast new light into many of the lessons, he had taught us and even now I felt them kick in. I silently observed all the happenings in the field and considered the events of the barracks all the while I waited. My questions formed, but the discipline of my father served me well and I never voiced them, never broke the silence. I just waited.

After 30 minutes of this, Captain Davies finally spoke, his voice quiet but clear, “I am impressed, young soldier.” His words bore the respect and admiration of one who had not been expecting anything good and had been surprised when something good was discovered. “Your self-control and discipline will serve you well here. Meet me here tomorrow morning at sunrise to begin training.”

With that he turned to go. I bit back so many questions, determining that now was not the time to ask them. However, pausing in his turn, he looked back at me. “Be mindful of Damian. His respect and admiration for the king is all that stands between him and you. It is enough and it will hold but mind you, his respect is one you will have a long hard road to earn. Your predecessors were often chosen from rich, affluent families whose money and influence sought to bestow honor on insolent and undeserving sons. The former banner bearer, your immediate predecessor, made an error that cost Damian a brother in arms, a friend. Selman was a fine solider and an even greater friend. Damian will need to be made to see that he cannot judge you by Lucas’ actions, nor any of the rest either. But do not give him reason to turn his grief and anger upon you. You will not survive if the barrier breaks.”

With that, he resumed his turn and walked away leaving me standing on the edge of the field. I wondered at the error that my predecessor had made that cost a man his life, that cost Damian his best friend. My heart filled with compassion and understanding for a man whose grief and pain was tangible and evident. I lingered for another hour, watching, observing, thinking. This was no farm life. In many ways I felt lost and out of my element. But I trusted that my father had good reason for enlisting me as the king’s banner bearer and I determined in that moment to honor him well, serve with distinction as he had, and perhaps in time I would come to understand what had brought me to this place.

With that thought in mind and determination in heart, I returned to the barracks and prepared to face what the future held; prepared to earn the respect and trust of the king’s guard, the king’s army, and of the king himself.