The sun dipped low as the Silver Company rode south, its fading light casting long shadows across the rugged hills. The air grew thick with the distant scent of burnt wood and ash. Dikun Silver's grip on his reins tightened as the words of the boy echoed in his mind.
"They took them. The black banners."
No sigil. No crest. Only death in their wake.
"Squire Gareth," Dikun called, his voice steady.
The young spearman, now officially Dikun's squire, rode faithfully beside him. Though his hands clutched the reins with determined strength, Dikun did not miss the slight stiffness in his posture. The weight of his new title bore heavily upon him.
"Yes, Sir Dikun?"
"What do you see ahead?" Dikun gestured toward the path.
Gareth narrowed his eyes, scanning the road. The dirt bore deep grooves, the mark of hastily dragged carts. Shattered wheels and discarded weapons lay strewn across the roadside. Buzzards circled above.
"A raid," Gareth said. "They burned the wagons. Took what was valuable and left the rest to rot."
Dikun nodded. "Good. And the tracks?"
Gareth dismounted, crouching low as his fingers brushed the soil. His brow furrowed. "Horses. Heavy ones. Likely armored riders. But... there's more. Smaller footprints. Barefoot. Prisoners."
Dikun's gaze darkened. "They're moving fast, but not without burden. We'll catch them soon."
The Silver Company pressed on.
---
A Camp of Chains
Night had fallen when the distant glow of firelight flickered against the trees. The company halted atop a ridge, the crackling of flames and the distant murmurs of men reaching their ears.
Below, a crude camp sprawled along the riverbank. Tents, hastily assembled, clustered around smoldering pits. Wooden cages lined the camp's edge, the unmistakable shapes of huddled prisoners within. At least fifty men in darkened armor roamed the camp, their laughter mingling with the pained cries of the captives.
"The black banners," Elira growled, her eyes gleaming with anger.
Dikun surveyed the scene with a calculating gaze. Their enemy was strong in number, but complacent. Guards leaned lazily against their spears, unaware of the silent force watching from the ridge.
"We strike before dawn," Dikun commanded. "Rudric, form the vanguard. Elira, your archers will cut down their sentries. No mercy for those who stand with slavers."
The Silver Company moved without question. But before Dikun could turn away, Gareth spoke.
"And me, Sir?"
Dikun met his squire's determined gaze. The boy had sworn his oath, and now, the test of steel awaited him.
"You will stand with me," Dikun said. "Learn not only how to fight, but why we fight. Are you ready?"
Gareth's jaw tightened. "I am."
---
The Assault
The first scream tore through the air as Elira's arrow struck true. The guard collapsed without a sound, and within moments, the camp erupted into chaos.
Dikun led the charge, his sword gleaming in the pale moonlight. "Silver Company, with me!"
The mercenaries scrambled to form a defense, but their drunken stupor left them sluggish. Dikun's blade carved through the first enemy that dared stand in his path. Blood stained the dirt as the Silver Company poured into the camp.
"Squires stay behind," a voice echoed in Gareth's mind — words spoken by veterans in the company. But not this time.
Gareth's spear struck forward, his heart pounding. A mercenary lunged at him, but the boy twisted aside, his weapon finding flesh. The man collapsed, gasping in shock. Gareth's hands trembled, but he did not hesitate.
"For the Silver Company!" he roared.
The prisoners in the cages watched with wide, hopeful eyes as the black banners fell.
---
Chains Broken
The last mercenary dropped to his knees, his weapon clattering to the ground. The camp was theirs. Smoke and ash drifted through the night air, but the only cries that remained were those of relief.
Dikun approached the prisoners, his sword lowered. Among them was a young woman with matted hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Her eyes locked onto Dikun's, desperate but unbroken.
"You're free now," Dikun said firmly. "No more chains."
The prisoners wept, their gratitude wordless. The Silver Company moved quickly, breaking the locks and offering water to the weakened captives.
Gareth, though weary, stood tall. Dried blood marked his face, but there was no shame in his eyes. Only resolve.
"You fought well, Squire Gareth," Dikun said, clasping his shoulder. "Tonight, you proved your worth."
Gareth nodded, though the weight of the battle lingered. "Thank you, Sir. But I have much more to learn."
"That you do," Dikun said with a rare smile. "And I will teach you."
The Silver Company gathered, their victory hard-won. But Dikun knew the fight was far from over. The black banners were no ordinary raiders. There was something more — something darker — behind their purpose.
And Dikun Silver would see it through to the end.
---
Next Chapter: Echoes of the Fallen
Dikun learns the identity of the leader behind the black banners.
Gareth grapples with the weight of his first kill.
A new enemy makes their move, threatening the fragile peace Dikun has fought for.