“Bruce, Bruce,” someone called from within the brush, and a moment later Bruce entered the clearing and he carried a bounty with him. He held up his hand. “Two fat hare and a pheasant,” he said with pride. “This forest be full of goodly game.”

“Indeed,” Barker said as he came up to Bruce and examined his success. “If ye will assist me young squire, I shall prepare the bird for our break fast and save the hare for later in the day.”

Bruce looked to Humphrey, who nodded. “Assist away, Bruce, but hurry, for we must eat soon,” he said with a wide smile.

As the plucked and gutted bird roasted on a spit over the fire, Barker sliced up the heart and liver, then added them to his soup for even greater flavor.

After a fine meal, they were ready for a brief rest before they continued on with their journey. They were interrupted, however, when someone else called from the forest.

“Greetings the camp!” a man shouted. “Might I enter?”

“Who calls?” Humphrey asked, his hand once again on his sword hilt.

“A mere traveler, as your selves,” the man replied.

Humphrey looked to Barker and Bruce, both of whom were prepared if there were to be any trouble. “Aye,” the knight called out. “Enter in peace.”

From the forest came a tall man—both burly and quite fat—with long greasy hair and an unkempt beard. His clothes were dirty and mismatched, although his boots and the sword he wore on his hip appeared somewhat new and well cared for. Humphrey immediately suspected that the two latter items were freshly stolen, no doubt from a recently dead individual. His hand tightened on his own sword hilt, and Bruce moved to stand closer to Isabelle.

The man entered a few feet into the clearing and spread his arms. “Me thanks, friends,” he said, “and good morrow to ye all.”

“What do you desire, stranger?” Humphrey asked, as his eyes scanned the undergrowth behind the man.

The visitor dropped his hands to his hips. “Well, ‘ere now,” he said with a toothless grin, “’tis no way to treat a traveling companion.”

“We have no need of another companion,” Humphrey stated, and moved slowly closer to the intruder. “What do you want?”

“I were just passing by, good sir,” he said and held his hands out in front of him to ward off Humphrey’s advance, “and we smelled the tasty aroma of yer meal, ‘tis all.”

“We?” Humphrey asked and pulled his sword, just as Bastion whinnied and tossed his large head in warning. Bruce too drew his weapon and turned to face the woods, when a number of men suddenly stepped from concealment and formed a semicircle around the clearing. A quick glance told the knight that three of the men held cocked crossbows aimed at his companions, while the rest carried drawn swords. With the leader, that made six adversaries for the three of them to deal with, and they had loaded crossbows. Bruce had his sword at the ready and Barker managed to grab up an axe, but there was too much danger that one of them might be killed or badly wounded if he were to attack. “Hold,” he said, reluctantly.