Holding the reins of our horses, we wordlessly wound our way to the Northern Gate. Even as the sounds of the garrison waking and preparing for the king’s arrival met our ears, we fell into a restful silence. The strain of the past two weeks, the physical and emotional toll that it had exacted on us demanded that we take a moment to reflect. And reflect we did. The silence between us was comfortable and companionable. It was understood. We did not need to talk about the events of the past night nor of the past two weeks. We knew each was pondering and processing them in their own way. We were content with the simple presence of one another as we did so. Our walk through the garrison to the gate was perhaps one of the most companionable we had experienced yet. The import of all we had experienced together and of the king whom we served was a greater bond even than that of blood. We were as much brothers as Damian and Selman had been and that strength and connection was tangible felt among us.

I was not surprised when we met a detachment of soldiers at the gate, the commander at their head. Most conspicuous, at first glance, was that the commander’s hand was raised in salute. Having been keenly aware of its absence during the past two weeks, it’s presence now indicated just how much had changed since our arrival here. Approaching the group, we returned the salute.

As I took in the assembled group in front of us, I was surprised to note that Markus and his companion were among them group. I was not surprised that the commander would be present to see us off. However, I was curious as to why the commander would have Markus and his right hand man with him. I did not have to wait long to find out the reason.

Barrak spoke first. “Markus and his companions have confessed. They have given us every name of every soldier who was involved in the ransacking of your tent and the destruction of the banner. They, along with the men responsible for the death of your guards, are already detained awaiting the arrival of the king and his judgment.”

Markus and his companion stood at the commander’s side and looked with downcast eyes on the ground. Their posture and body language spoke of contrition, embarrassment, and shame.

“Why are these two not with them?” Cormac inquired. His tone was not in anger, exactly. It had a rough edge to it but was not filled with the anger one might come to expect when such deeds against King and self were inflicted.

Barrak, looking at me, replied, “Banner bearer, with your consent, I would like to propose a course of action.”

I had been staring at Markus and his companion trying to discern the meaning and nature of their stance. Their stance now seemed to match that which they had shown earlier that morning at my tent when they had expressed their remorse, confessed their guilt, and seemingly evidenced a change of heart. Despite the appearance of authenticity, I was still having a hard time reconciling those men from the ones whom I had seen since my arrival with the seething anger and malice that emanated from them every time, I was the object of their gaze. Their appearance now was of men shamed and broken over their actions. I wanted to believe it was genuine. My heart and flesh wanted to be skeptical and disbelieving.

At Barrak’s words, I snapped my focus toward him, somewhat surprised. Though in technicality, I was the senior ranking officer on the compound, the commander had never treated me as such nor sought my opinion on matters pertaining to the running of his garrison. Nor I had even considered interfering. I may have been senior ranking officer, but I was not a commander of troops, nor did I know what it took to effectively run a military outpost. I was taken aback then, to now being sought out for my consent for anything. The very fact of his seeking my input showed what a marked change had come over the garrison in these short two weeks.

My facial expression must have communicated that to Barrak for he continued. “You are an extension of the king. You are his sent representative. And these actions are not just attacks upon the king, but upon you. You are owed respect from us for that alone. However, you have also earned the respect of the men in this garrison, my respect, throughout your brief time here. I believe that you have the right to weigh in on the decision I am recommending.”

Sudden apprehension filled me. The weight of his word’s was profound. I was an extension of the king. His representative. My response to his proposal would reflect upon the king. My actions would either honor the king or shame him. I felt very unprepared and under-qualified to represent him. Who was I to be the king’s ambassador and emissary? But then I realized, I had been that all along. I had been that from the moment I asked for the king’s consent to travel here without him. I silently chided myself for not understanding sooner what it was I had asked of the king. My only intent was the bring hope and present our great king to the people for them to see. I had no other ambitions. And yet, as the king’s representative, I now stood in a position to do even more. My response to Barrak’s proposal would show the glory of our king and his great wisdom, or it would shame the king should I respond in folly.

Composing myself, I spoke with a calm that I did not feel. “Ok, commander. What are you proposing?” I inquired.

“I propose sending Markus and Selenor,” he gestured toward Markus and his companion, “to the defector’s camp. Markus believes that there are at least some that he can sway back to being loyal to the king.

“He knows where the camp is located?” I queried. The commander’s troops had been unable to locate either the militia or the defectors in the weeks since they had defected.

“He believes he does.” He replied.

“This was his idea?” Inquired Damian.

“Yes.” Barrak responded.
“And you trust him?” Spat Damian, the disbelief evident in his voice.

“No, not even a little. However, He has admitted responsibility for his actions in the defection of our soldiers and for the consequences that have ensued. He has admitted that he cannot take that back, but he believes he can help set some things straight by seeking to persuade at least some to return to the king. No, I do not trust him. He has broken that and will have to re-earn that. However, he was supposed to make contact with the defectors and has already missed that check in. They will suspect his compromise. He will risk a lot to go to them now. If there is a chance, he can convince some of these soldiers to return, it is worth the risk. If not, he accepts whatever consequences come as a result of his attempts.”

Damian starts to object but is stopped with the raise of my hand.

“Markus, Selenor, do you know what it is you are asking? Do you understand the risk?” I asked.

Both men looked up at me. Their eyes sober but their expressions steeled in conviction. It was Selenor who spoke.

“Yes, sire. We are fully prepared to die at their hands if we are not successful in winning them over.”

Markus interjected, “We know what we ask. You are trusting us not to betray you or give them anything more to be used against you. We know you have no reason to trust us nor to even trust that we will go as we say. You could just as well be releasing us to go free, with no consequence or to simply join the defectors. You have no reason to trust us and if you refuse the request, you are within your right and may well be choosing the wiser course. But we want to try, sire. We want to tell them what we saw and heard here. We want to bring the same hope and confidence to them that you have brought here. Please, let us try.”

Silence fell. Barrak, Markus, Selenor, and my companions waited in patient stillness. Internally, I wrestled. The weight of this decision was not lost on me. Once more, the weight of being the king’s representative bore down on me. I thought not about what I would do, for that is not what they were seeking. They sought my input because they wanted the King’s judgment. If I merely gave my thoughts, I would be failing the king.

What would the king do? How would he respond? What decision would he make? I thought of all those long hours in the courts. I considered the many judgments of the king and the rendering of his verdicts and sentencing. And in the brief span of only a few moments, I knew what the king would do. I felt certain I knew what his response would be.
With firm conviction and assurance, I spoke. “Markus, Selenor, your actions against the king are grave. You have dishonored his name, his character, and you have spurned his will. What’s more, you led others to do so. Your actions will have consequences that can never be turned back.” In my mind, I pictured the two dead soldiers whose only “crime” was guarding our tent. I paused, taking a breath. Their heads began to dip, their eyes falling to the ground.

“However,” I continued. “I know my king. I know our king.” I emphasized our and in so doing, I saw their heads halt in their descent and rise again so that their eyes met mine once more. “The king does not reject or turn away repentant and contrite hearts. While I do not know the authenticity of your words or intentions, in the name of the King, I choose to trust the sincerity of them. You know the risks you are taking, and you understand that it may cost you your lives. Our king is worthy of our fullest devotion. You accept the risk and are willing to do this in His name. Therefore, I consent to your being sent to go.”

Stepping forward so that I am standing directly in front of them both, I look them both long and hard in the face. They look back, unblinking. I let the silence linger for several long moments. Then I continue. “Go. Honor the king. Do what you are able and attempt to return the hearts of men to the king. And if you should die in doing so, know this, the king will be honored either way.”

Dipping my head to them, I step back. The two men dip their heads without a word. Solemn expressions etched on their features. Turning, they look to the commander.

Barrak gave a quick glance and a nonverbal signal to two soldiers standing nearby who quickly departed. Turning his attention back to Markus and Selenor, he said, “Valiant has spoken true and wise words. You will depart immediately to find the defectors and do all that is in your power to reclaim their submission and devotion to the king. I have sent for your horses. You will leave immediately taking only what you possess on your person now.”

Even as Barrak fell silent, the two acknowledged, without a word, the verdict. Within moments, the two soldiers returned with their horses. I realized then that the commander had been planning to, or at least inclined to, send the two men to the defectors camp but sought verification of that decision before doing so. He had already prepared the horses in the event I agreed. Upon his words, the two men accepted the reins of the horses and turned to leave. They had only taken a single step when the commander’s words stopped them.

“The king may well be gracious and forgiving but be warned that you do not betray him again.”

They turned back and with a single look, acknowledged the commander’s words. Then they turned, mounted their horses and were gone.