The weeks continued to pass quickly. My training intensified. Day by day, my skill in weaponry grew. Before long, I was sparring with more veteran soldiers. Being pitted against their skill both exposed my weaknesses and strengthen those weaknesses at the same time. Soon, I was able to at least match and keep up with the more expert soldiers.

At first, these skilled veterans seemed resentful that they had to spar with the newbie, the banner bearer of all things. I soon found out, besides the fact that my predecessors were arrogant and entitled, their exemption from training was another sore subject among the ranks. Though many in the king’s guard had finally come to accept and respect me, many in the larger army had not. I was still as much of a stranger to them as I was to the king’s guard that first day. Their resentment and animosity had not eased in the slightest. These veterans did not go easy and took that frustration out on me. More than once, I went to bed at night with bruises in places I did not even know were places. One particular night, I found it especially difficult to sleep for the pain radiating from my groin.

That afternoon I had sparred with a middle aged solider who had served in the army for a decade. He had grown increasingly frustrated with his inability to get past my defenses and strike a blow. He had suspected I was like my predecessors, wealthy and entitled, and would show no proficiency with the sword. Well, to be accurate, the wooden clubs were we using to simulate swords. As our sparring dragged on and he was not able to get past my defenses, he growled and shouted at me. I noted the use of his intimidation tactic, intending to unsettle me. His attempt would have succeeded at one point in my training. Not now. I was proud of how steeled and focused I had become as a soldier. I gloated inwardly at how little effect he had on me.

In the next instant, when I felt the explosion of pain in my groin, all gloating and boasting evaporated and I learned one of the most valuable lessons in combat; always be alert to your surroundings. I realized in that moment that his growls and shouts had meant something more. In my focused intensity, I had only been paying attention to the soldier in front of me. His growl and shout had drawn another soldier who had snuck up behind me. What I had perceived as an intimidation tactic was really a distraction. With a swift and brutal kick, this new combatant approached from behind and brought his leg up hard and fast precisely aimed between my legs, connecting squarely with my groin. It felt as if every ounce of his strength was poured into that kick. The resulting pain threatened to undo me. Nausea filled my stomach. Pain shot down my legs and up into my torso. I keeled over. However, as I did, I saw a club aiming for my head and knew I was in trouble. Taking no time to focus on the pain but responding by instinct and adrenaline, I calculated quickly my next move. Using every ounce of strength and will power I could muster, I straightened back up, raised my own club, and blocked the blow mere inches from my head. No sooner had I blocked it, another blow came in. I was now facing attacks from two sides. Knowing I needed a better defensive position, I twisted and raised my club to block the blow while at the same time kicking out to propel the second assailant away from me.

Not suspecting my kick, I was able to connect the blow, striking the new assailant on the knee. I connected with enough power to elicit a cry of surprise. His leg buckled as he yelped in pain and twisted away. I pivoted away so that I was now a few steps away from both soldiers, one standing in front of me to my right and the other to my left. We circled each other cautiously now. I could see in their eyes that they knew they had underestimated me, though I could not tell if this diminished or strengthened their resentment of me.

They simultaneously came in again and I had just enough time to block both blows before they rounded again. I was totally on the defensive now, unable to attack for merely defending myself. This went on for what felt like an eternity before I finally heard the call to cease. At the sound of the captain’s voice, the two soldiers backed down. Only when they stepped back and withdrew did I finally keel over again and vomit onto the dirt. As the adrenaline faded, I began to feel every bit of the exhaustion of combat, the agonizing pain in my groin, and the weariness of my muscles from such intense and prolonged battle. I suddenly felt as if I would never be able to rise from the dirt upon which I knelt.

As I sat on my hands and knees still panting from the effort of vomiting, I saw a hand extend down into my line of sight. I grabbed it, accepting the help to stand. I expected to see the captain. I was surprised when before me stood, not one, but both of the soldiers whom I had sparred with. The hand belonged to the second one.

“Sorry about the kick, mate. Thought for sure that would be the end of you. You got more steel in you than we expected. Surprised us both, it did, when you not only remained in the fight but continued to hold us off. You are not like the others. We might just have to change our opinion of banner bearers.”

Their tone was matter of fact with a hint of skepticism in it. I suppose that when you have for so long held one attitude, it does not easily change. As they turned and stepped off the field, the captain, who had been standing behind them, approached. He was smiling. He never smiled.

I was immediately defensive. “It was a low blow, sir. Not funny.” My hand reflexively drew up to cradle my groin. Even the gentleness off my touch, intended to comfort, sent spams of pain through my body. I groaned in misery.

“You misunderstand, soldier. I am not delighting in your discomfort. You just defended against two of the best warriors in the king’s army. Their skill can rival even those of the king’s guard.” His statement hung in the air with the tone of praise that was rare from the captain.

Looking up at the Captain, I dejectedly muttered, “I never got a single blow in on either of them.”

“And with the exception of the surprise kick to your….” He trailed off merely pointing, “neither did they.” He finished. “Even some of our best fighters would have trouble doing that. Trust me, you did well.”

The tone of praise silenced any further objections I may have been about to utter. This was rare from the captain. Clearly for him to utter such praise, I must have done better than I imagined.

“And,” he laughed heartily now, “I doubt you will make the same mistake twice. A painful lesson, but a profitable one.”

After that day, I began to notice a difference in how the other soldiers, with whom I would spar, treated me. I noticed a greater courtesy and respect in how I was addressed among the other soldiers in the training field as well as when we would encounter one another throughout the city. Clearly, the story had been shared and it had performed its effect on the other soldier’s regard for me.

Only a few weeks out from this sparring event, I found myself in conversation with soldiers wherever I went. Rather than ignoring me or even glaring at me as we would pass one another, I soon found that they would dip their head in acknowledgement or even stop to converse with me. On several occasions, I even found myself dining with them and sharing in conversation.

As the weeks progressed, I noticed more and more that the hostile resentment was fading from a vast majority of the men. I was beginning to feel more like one of the fellow brothers in arms. In truth, even without consciously being aware of it, I was beginning to feel at home in this place.