Because Blutgang wanted to name the baby something strong, and Belmardina wanted to name him after something beautiful, they settled on the name ‘Oak’. They both agreed that if they found his actual parents, they would return him without a fuss, but for now he was theirs.

There had not been a baby in the patrol for decades, and the occurrence was met with great pleasure from the kraat. One of the more prevalent conversations among the soldiers was speculation about what weapon he might use once old enough to wield one. The consensus was that Oak would follow in Blutgang’s footsteps and brandish a halberd. However, some hoped he would take to a broadsword, mace, or even the bow and arrow.

Belmardina flew overhead as a dragon one afternoon, watching the soldiers and her husband, who was carrying Oak. She had taken to scouting in the morning as a dragon, and landing in the afternoon to help Blutgang with their son.

While the troops wondered at Oak’s future prowess as a warrior, Belmardina wondered what she had to offer her son. I don’t know how to fight, make armor, or even sew... Suddenly she wished she had paid better attention during the days of her tutelage. Indeed, it seemed what little skills she had, the kraat could do better. They even sing better than me! She thought as the patrol took up a robust marching tune.

Thunderclouds were common in the northern Umohaw region where they now traversed, and Belmardina was ashamed to admit to herself that lightning had always scared her. Seeing dark clouds ahead, and seeing the soldiers were on a marching break, she decided to land a little earlier than usual.

She alighted near the head of the line of soldiers and changed back into a human in a nearby copse of evergreen trees. She had taken her black and purple fur-lined coat with her (tied about one of her thick horns in dragon form—it looked silly that way, but she preferred to have clothes to put on when she landed), and she got dressed quickly. She then ran to her husband’s side, eager to see their boy. “Nothing of too much interest ahead today,” she reported, “there’s some snow and thunder clouds, so I hope everyone has heavy coats to wear.”

Blutgang almost did not hear what she was saying; he was attempting to teach Oak—who had already begun to learn to walk—to march with a small kraat standard one of the females had knitted for him. Belmardina crouched, watching him toddle about as Blutgang spoke to him; “Hold it high now, yes! Just like that. You’ll make a great soldier yet!”

“Do you really think he’ll make a good soldier? Isn’t it a little early to tell?” Belmardina asked, and then giggled when Oak began chewing on the flag and Blutgang had to wrest it from his beak.

“I don’t know for sure, but he’ll be growing up in the patrol; he has a hundred strong veterans to teach him.” Blutgang said as he watched Oak waddle to his mother with his arms out. She was all too happy to lift him from the ground and into her arms.

She bounced Oak up and down—something that was always fun until her arms got tired. “Oh! That reminds me; there’s something that’s been on my mind. I’ve been wondering what I could possibly teach Oak that the rest of the kraat soldiers can’t? I feel like I should do more for him.”

“Teach him to read.” Blutgang said without hesitation.

“Oh. I suppose I can do that. But the other kraat can do that too, yes?”

“Not many of us. Kraat have no patience for words and classical learning. That’s why the patrol is so important; it teaches us discipline.” He was thoughtful for a moment, then added, “Kraat have always been considered… lesser—especially kraat outside the patrol. But I’m sure you already know about that; you did call us barbarians the night we met.”

Belmardina blushed, thinking of how she had acted a mere year ago. “Yes… I don’t know that I ever apologized for that. I’m sorry.” She paused for a moment. When she saw him smile and nod, she continued; “So, who among our kraat can read?”

“Cadfael, the old scribe, can. I think you’ve met him a few times—he writes our exploits and gives them to the Great Dwarf Library Chain when we pass one of their buildings. Frey, my third-in-command can… and I believe that’s it.”

“Only two of a hundred!” Belmardina said, more loudly than she meant to. Like most high-born, she had learned to read as a young woman. To think most of the kraat in the patrol were illiterate was almost unimaginable. “But, what about you?” She looked into her husband’s green and yellow eyes.

“My brother, Sygdag can read, but I never learned.”

“You can’t—? But, why would your parents teach him and not you?” She asked, surprised that she had been married for a year without knowing her husband could not read.

“Only my mother could read. She learned from her mother who was a witch in Haallan; witches have to learn to read so they can perform spells. My father never learned either. Mother tried to teach me, but, like most kraat, I didn’t have the will or want to learn.”

More revelations. Belmardina’s head was almost spinning. “Your grandmother was a witch? Did you inherit any magical ability?”

“None whatsoever. My only skills are that of a fighter—that’s why I’m asking your help to teach our boy. If he’s going to be a great soldier, and king one day, I want him to be better—a kraat king the people of Dru won’t look down on.”

Belmardina’s eyebrows knit when she realized he was suggesting people looked down on him. She lifted her chin. “You have my word—our boy will learn to read.”