The morning light brought with it the hope of a new day. We had two weeks before the King’s arrival. Facing his imminent arrival and that of the warfare he was bringing, the four of us rose and readied with poised determination to prepare the troops in this garrison for his arrival. We still did not know if there were others remaining here who were in league with or of the same mind as the defectors. We did not know if we would face an attack from the militia. Facing threats on two fronts now, the situation had become even more tenuous and precarious. The general tone of the camp was one of despair and battle worn weariness. It was our task to inspire hope, to encourage, to support, and to build this garrison up in preparation for the king’s arrival. It was no small task, and the enormity of it was not lost on us.

We stowed all unnecessary gear in our tent and equipped only what was needed for the days’ tasks ahead. I ensured that the king’s banner was neatly and securely stowed under my cot. I was nervous about leaving it unattended, but I was assured that our tent would have guards posted at all times, even when we were not present. We had objected to such use of troops but as the commander of the garrison reminded us, we were dignitaries of the king, his representatives here on his authority and with the recent defectors, it was clear that not all were in favor of the king. It would not be wise to leave the king’s representatives and their accommodations unprotected. The guard would remain, he assured us. We were assured that the guards posted had been vetted and were loyal.

It was only under that assurance that I even contemplated leaving the banner in the tent. It was my solemn responsibility to ensure its safety and care. With the assurance of the guard, I left it, along with the tools and supplies I carried to ensure proper care of the flag, stowed under my cot, and left with my companions for the dining area even as the day began.

The moment we entered the dining area, our day’s work began. As we entered the area, all eyes turned toward us, and a chorus of shouts and cries went up. Several soldiers rushed to us, beaming from ear to ear.

“So, it is true!” A young officer, identified from his uniform’s markings, exclaimed! He saluted me with an expressive gesture of his hand. His gesture, I noted, seemed delayed, like a forgotten or omitted gesture of a man who realized too late that he was supposed to do so. I was taken aback by his gesture. None before had ever saluted to me and I did not see myself as one in a position to merit such a gesture. Before I could respond or even process his act, he proceeded, “The King IS coming!” He declared, his words radiating joy and delight.

Still taken aback by his salute but awash in excitement over his delight at the kings coming, I addressed his words before his action. With a smile, I replied, “Yes! He will be here in two weeks’ time! He is coming to your aid and support!”

Cheers broke out from around the room. I glanced around and saw men standing, clapping, howling, and cheering at the news. A liveliness that we had not seen since our arrival rushed through the dining area. I knew that before the end of the day, the entire garrison would hear the news and know of the kings coming.

It did not escape me, however, that a small scattering of men did not show the same excitement or enthusiasm as the rest. I noted their more subdued responses and wondered at it. Were these men considering defecting and joining the others? Had they already done so and were left here as spies? Were they skeptical of the news, disbelieving it until they saw it happen? Was their despair so deep that just hearing the news of the kings coming could not lift their spirits? No answer to these questions would come merely from observing their reaction. I determined in that moment to converse with as many as possible in the coming week to seek out their hearts and allegiances. I determined to win them over and to inspire hope in the king once more!

Before returning my gaze to the officer in front of me, I froze as my gaze swept over a soldier sitting towards the back right of the room. He was staring directly at me with a cold, hard gaze. I felt the hatred and anger emanating from him like a tidal wave. I shivered involuntarily at the glare and made mental note to be very wary around this man. He radiated danger and sent prickles of warning and fear crawling along my skin.

I broke my momentary gaze with him and directed my attention to the officer standing before me. I returned his smile and spoke passionately about the king’s love and devotion to his subjects and some of the great concern he had long had over the conflicts that this garrison had been enduring. My words had their intended affect. The excitement in the dining area grew and men began to move with more determined purpose and renewed hope.

Glancing again at the back corner, I noted that the glaring soldier was gone. His seat empty and no sign of him to be seen anywhere. Dread and fear knotted in my stomach, and I made mental note to speak with Damian about this man later.

Turning back to the officer, I said, “My comrade, why did you salute me when you greeted me? I am just a man like yourself, just a soldier.”

He seemed taken aback by my remark and in a disbelieving voice, he replied, “Because, sire, you are not merely a soldier or a man. As the king’s banner bearer, you are the senior ranking officer in this garrison, higher even than our commander! You are here on the king’s behest and bear his full authority! It would be insubordinate of me NOT to acknowledge your seniority.”

If I thought I had been taken aback before, I was really taken aback now. In all of the training I had received over the months, in all of the education regarding the ways of the king’s court and structure of the king’s politics, the Captain had never addressed anything regarding my rank amongst the other soldiers of his guard or army. Not even the commander had saluted me upon my arrival. Ever after, I would note the absence of the gesture. It’s absence certainly seemed purposeful.

I glanced at Damian for verification of his words. Damian merely dipped his head in acknowledgement of this truth. I was left dumbfounded and speechless. I had never imagined that my rank within the king’s army was so high. I certainly had never aspired to such authority. It certainly explained, however, the commander’s treatment of our delegation. I made mental notes to confer with the captain on this point when I returned.

I dipped my head in acceptance of his honor and recognition of my rank and replied, “My apologies. I am still new at this position and still learning. I certainly do not feel entitled or deserving of such a position. I am simply an honored servant our king and a faithful brother in arms to you. I accept your acknowledgment and graciously accept with humblest thanks.”

The officer’s expression turned curious and bewildered. “You are not like the rest of the banner bearers I have met in my time, sire. Your words are gracious and humble.” He extended his hand now and asked, “May I?”

I gripped his arm with my own and as brothers in arms, faithful servants of the king, we shook. He then turned and walked away followed by the handful of soldiers that had approached with him.

As the four of us turned toward the food line, Cormac noted, “You never cease to amaze me Valiant. I have seen many banner bearers come and go. None have acted with the grace and humility you just showed. I am honored to be at your side.”

I wondered at Cormac’s words. They warmed my heart. At the same time, they left me with a deep sadness. Had my predecessors been so bad? Everywhere I went, their poor reputation preceded me. I made no aim to shame them. All I wanted was to live worthy of my king and honor his name. It saddened me that so many had failed and left such a miserable view of the king.

His words struck me a with the satisfaction of the sincerest praise a son might receive from the father. I noted them quietly and without a word but placed my hand on Cormac’s shoulder as a silent acknowledgment and thanks.

Gathering our food, I scanned the room for soldiers whose responses to the new of the king’s coming was more subdued and sober. Spotting a few, I seated myself next to them, Damian followed. I sought to engage them in conversation while I ate. Cormac and Benner, noting what I had done, followed suit. We had purposed that our primary task was to speak of the king, build their hope in him up once more, and instill confidence in the troops of this garrison.

For the remainder of the week, we ate with the soldiers, we worked alongside them to clean up the damage done by the defectors. We fortified the defenses. We stood watch and kept guard with the soldiers of the garrison, now shorthanded due to the defection. All the while, we spoke of the king. We shared personal eyewitness stories of his wisdom, grace, courage, and faithfulness to his people. I regaled them with stories from the inner court and the kings just dealings with the peoples of the land. It was not lost on me that the very thing I had so resented and been bored with at the start of my service to the king was now the very thing that was empowering me to encourage the hearts of the king’s men and to endear them to him. The many stories of personal observation and experience that I had obtained from daily being in the king’s presence now produced their fullest and richest affect as the men hung on every word. I shared the many bitter nights when the king, in private, would weep over the sorrows and losses throughout his kingdom. I personally witnessed the king weep at the graves of fallen soldiers or cry with the mother whose only son perished in an accident. I was privy to the king as he poured out his heart in solitude for the people who called him king. I told them of the moment I first knew that this man was worthy of my service and life. I told them of my resistance and resentment I had towards my father for enlisting me and also what I had learned of his reasons for doing so. I had come to see that serving the king was embracing a calling and purpose higher than me and one worthy of pursuing with my whole being.

The impact of our words, of my words was palpable and profound. The garrison took on life and joy again. Hope and confidence flooded the soldiers, and their work took on a depth of excellence and diligence that had previously waned under their weary despair.

Though we were ever alert for danger from external and internal attacks, the first week passed without incident. There were no raids and no more defectors. The general tone of the camp began to rapidly turn from the battle worn weariness and despair to one of hope and joy again. It seemed that perhaps the tide had turned and the troubles facing this garrison had passed or were passing.