A Banner Torn (Book 1 Complete)

Marta:

Dawn painted the village square in hues of gold and amber as the caravan prepared for departure. Six wagons stood loaded with trade goods, drivers checking harnesses while guards made final inspections of their weapons. Families gathered to see them off, exchanging embraces and last-minute advice.

She adjusted the leather straps of her armor, a hand-me-down from her older brother that still felt stiff despite her efforts to break it in. This wasn't her first journey to the city, but it was her first time bearing real responsibility. The militia captain's words echoed in her mind: "Keep those boys in line and bring them back in one piece."

She spotted Kaelid and Rannek by the lead wagon, their excitement palpable in their animated gestures and bright eyes. They reminded her of herself three years ago, when she'd first ventured beyond the village boundaries. The world had seemed so vast then, full of wonders and possibilities. It still was, but now she understood its dangers as well.

"All set?" she asked, approaching the boys.

Kaelid nodded, adjusting the small pack on his shoulders. "Ready."

"This isn't a pleasure trip," she reminded them, adopting the tone she'd heard from senior militia members. "You're there to work and learn. Stay close to the caravan at all times, follow instructions immediately, and don't wander off."

"We know, we're not children." Rannek mumbled barely containing his excitement.

"You're not adults either," she countered. "And I'm responsible for you both. Don't make me regret agreeing to this." She knew she would regret this a little already.

The caravan master, Aelrik, a lean man with a neatly trimmed grey beard, called for final preparations. He'd been leading the village's trading expeditions for longer than she had been alive, and his word was law on the road.

"We move out in ten minutes," he announced. "Final goodbyes now."

Marta watched as the boys rejoined their families. Kaelid's mother held him tightly, whispering something in his ear that made him nod solemnly. His uncle Doran clasped his shoulder with a firm hand, his weathered face a mixture of pride and concern. Nearby, Rannek's mother fussed over him pressing a small package of food into his hands. While Doran checked his pack as well as Kaelid's.

Her own parents had already said their goodbyes earlier that morning. Her father, a senior militia member, had simply told her to trust her training and keep her eyes open. Her mother had been more emotional, extracting multiple promises to be careful. Both had expressed pride in her being chosen as the boys' overseer, a sign of the captain's confidence in her abilities.

She noticed the Miller family standing apart from the main gathering, and her heart clenched for them.

Kaelid approached her and briefly asked about what had happened. It took a lot of effort to keep herself from crying a bit for their loss and grief.

The caravan master's call for departure broke the moment. As they climbed aboard their assigned wagon, she noticed Kaelid's earlier excitement had tempered somewhat. Good, she thought. A little sobriety would serve him well on this journey. The road could be dangerous, and an overexcited boy might make foolish decisions.

The wagons moved forward with rattling and jingling harnesses. Marta sat with the boys on the third wagon, loaded with barrels of the village's prized apple cider and sacks of dried herbs. The driver, an older woman named Saelma with calloused hands and sun-weathered skin, clicked to the horses and guided them into line.

As they passed through the village gate, she studied the boys' reactions. Rannek was practically bouncing on the wagon seat, pointing out landmarks as they receded behind them. Kaelid was more reserved, looking back once at the diminishing village, then turning his gaze forward to the road ahead.

"First time leaving home?" Saelma asked the boys, her eyes remaining on the road.

"Yes," they answered in unison.

"You'll find the world's a big place," she said, thinking back to the several trips she'd made like this in the past. "Some parts wonderful, some parts best avoided. Listen to your overseer here, and you'll do fine."

The road wound through familiar farmlands for the first few hours, gradually giving way to wilder country as the morning progressed. The caravan moved at a steady pace, the guards riding alongside at regular intervals. She recognized most of them from militia training, though some were professional caravan guards who only passed through the village during trading seasons.

The captain of the guard, Vaeldric, rode up alongside their wagon around midday. He was a veteran of many caravan journeys, with a scar running from his left temple to his jaw and eyes that missed nothing.

"Marta," he greeted with a nod. "These are your charges?"

"Yes, sir. Kaelid and Rannek."

He studied the boys with an appraising gaze. "First time on the road?"

They nodded.

"Stay alert," he advised. "Even well-traveled roads have their dangers. Forest drakes have been active in the western woods lately, and there are always desperate men looking for easy targets." His expression softened slightly. "But don't worry too much. That's our job."

As he rode ahead to check on the lead wagons, Rannek turned to her with wide eyes. "Forest drakes? Will we see them?"

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"Possibly," she replied. "They're territorial but usually avoid large groups. If they do approach, stay in the wagon and let the guards handle them."

"What do they look like?" Kaelid asked.

They're kind of like snakes with wings. But they've got a pair of arms that have these skin flaps stretched out like bat wings. They're about the size of a medium dog, and their scales look kind of rough like an alligator." She had seen them on previous journeys, though never up close. "They're more curious than dangerous, unless you corner them or threaten their nests."

The boys exchanged excited glances, and Marta suppressed a smile. At their age, the prospect of seeing such creatures was thrilling rather than concerning. She remembered feeling the same way once.

By late afternoon, the caravan master called for them to begin looking for a suitable camping spot. The first day's journey was always shorter than subsequent days, allowing time to establish camp routines and settle into the rhythm of the road.

They found a clearing beside a small stream, with enough open ground for the wagons to form a protective circle. Everyone had assigned tasks, and she made sure the boys were kept busy helping to unload necessary supplies and gather firewood from the edge of the clearing.

As the camp took shape, Vaeldric approached her. "We could use some fresh meat for the pot," he said. "The stream looks good for fishing, but game would be better. You're handy with a bow, as I recall."

"Yes, sir."

"Take your trainees if you like. Might be good experience for them. Just stay within shouting distance of camp."

She considered this. The boys had been cooped up in the wagon all day and could use the exercise. And hunting would be a practical lesson in woodcraft. "We'll go," she decided. "Kaelid, Rannek, grab your packs. We're going hunting."

Their faces lit up at the prospect of adventure. She collected her bow and quiver from the wagon, then led the boys toward the edge of the clearing. "Stay close and keep your voices down," she instructed. "Game has good ears."

They moved into the forest, she showing them how to walk quietly, placing their feet carefully to avoid snapping twigs. The woods were alive with late afternoon sounds, birds calling and small creatures rustling in the undergrowth.

"Look for signs," she whispered. "Tracks, droppings, bruised plants. All tell you what's been here and how recently."

The boys proved to be quick studies. Rannek spotted rabbit tracks leading to a thicket, while Kaelid noticed the distinctive marks of deer hooves in a muddy patch. Marta was impressed by their observational skills, particularly Kaelid's ability to spot details she nearly missed.

After about twenty minutes of careful stalking, she froze, raising her hand for the boys to stop. Ahead in a small clearing, a young deer grazed, unaware of their presence. She slowly raised her bow, nocked an arrow, and drew back the string.

The deer's head snapped up suddenly, ears twitching. It hadn't detected them, but something else had spooked it. Before she could loose her arrow, the deer bounded away into the underbrush.

"What happened?" Rannek whispered, disappointment evident in his voice.

"Something scared it," she replied, scanning the forest. "Not us."

Kaelid pointed upward. "There!"

A sinuous shape glided between the treetops, moving with surprising grace for its serpentine body. The forest drake was smaller than she had described, likely a juvenile, with iridescent green scales that caught the dappled sunlight. Its wing membranes stretched between elongated fingers, creating an undulating motion as it navigated through the branches.

"Stay still," she whispered, though the boys showed no inclination to move. All three watched, transfixed, as the drake perched on a high branch and surveyed the forest floor, its wedge-shaped head swiveling on a flexible neck.

For a moment, its gaze seemed to meet theirs, intelligent eyes assessing the strange creatures below. Then, with a flick of its tail, it launched back into the air and disappeared deeper into the forest.

"That was amazing," Rannek whispered, awe evident in his voice.

"It was looking for the same thing we are, game. They hunt small animals, birds, sometimes fish. That one was young, probably just learning to hunt on its own."

"Will it come back?" Kaelid asked.

"Maybe. But we should move on. That deer is long gone, and we still need to find something for the pot."

They continued their hunt, moving in a wide arc that would eventually bring them back toward camp. She managed to bring down two rabbits with clean shots, and Kaelid spotted a pheasant that became their third prize.

As they made their way back to camp with their modest but welcome contribution, Rannek asked, "Do you think we'll see more drakes?"

"Likely," Marta replied. "That one was young, and juveniles usually stay close to their family groups. Where there's one, there are often more."

The camp was fully established by the time they returned, with cooking fires burning and guards posted at regular intervals around the perimeter. She handed their game to the cook, an older man named Elthar who received their contribution with appreciation.

"Good hunting," he commented, already preparing to skin the rabbits. "These will make a fine addition to the stew."

The boys beamed with pride at having contributed to the evening meal. She felt a small surge of satisfaction herself, both at the successful hunt and at seeing her charges engaged and learning.

As twilight deepened into night, the caravan members gathered around the central fire for the evening meal. The stew was hearty, enriched with the fresh game and vegetables brought from the village. Conversation flowed easily among the travelers, many of whom had journeyed together before.

One of the younger guards, Jorren, took a particular interest in the boys, regaling them with tales of previous journeys and the wonders of the city. "Wait until you see the central market," he told them, gesturing expansively. "Goods from every corner of the kingdom, things you've never imagined. Spices that make your eyes water just from the smell, fabrics so fine they seem to flow like water, weapons forged by master smiths."

"And the people," added Taelwen, a female archer with the guard detail. "More in one street than in your entire village. All types, all trades, all manners of dress and speech."

Watching the boys absorb these descriptions, their eyes wide with anticipation, she remembered her own first impressions of the city, the overwhelming sensations of noise and movement and smells both wonderful and terrible. The village seemed so small and quiet afterward, though she'd come to appreciate its peace again with time.

As the fire burned lower and people began to retire to their bedrolls, she made sure the boys were settled for the night. "Get some rest," she told them. "Tomorrow will be a longer day of travel."

"Marta," Kaelid said as she turned to go. "Thank you for taking us hunting."

She nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "You did well. Both of you. Now sleep."

She found her own bedroll near the wagon and gazed up at the stars, so much brighter here than they seemed from the village. The first day had gone smoothly enough, but she knew better than to expect the entire journey to be so uneventful. The road to the city held many challenges, some predictable, others not.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her was of the boys' faces when they'd spotted the forest drake, that perfect mixture of wonder and apprehension that came with encountering the unknown. It was the same expression she'd seen on many young faces experiencing the wider world for the first time, including her own reflection years ago.

The journey was just beginning, and already they were seeing beyond the boundaries of their familiar lives. What else would they discover before they returned home? And how would those discoveries change them?

With these questions drifting through her mind, she surrendered to sleep, the sounds of the night forest and the breathing of the camp creating a strange but not unpleasant lullaby.