The blade had not been well cared for by its previous owner. There were small specks of tarnish along one edge and crusted food was lodged against the guard. Humphrey unrolled the oil rag and took up the honing stone that was contained within. He spit on the stone and went to work sharpening the dagger and removing the spots of tarnish from the blade's edge. When the tarnish was gone and he felt each side held a keen edge, he sharpened a small stick and scraped away the remnants of dried food. Then he polished the dull looking blade with his oil rag until it shone in the early morning light, and rubbed at the wooden grip until it too glowed. Finally satisfied, he sheathed the dagger and got up, to join Bruce and Isabelle at their improvised table.

"My lady," he said, holding out the sheathed dagger, its grip toward the princess. "This may come in handy for you, in more ways than one."

Isabelle took the unexpected gift from him and removed the dagger from its sheath. "My thanks, Sir Humphrey," she said, looking at the sharpened blade. "Indeed, I am sure this will see much use." She then took up a large hunk of cheese and cut a thin slice from it, which she popped into her mouth. "It works well, Sir Humphrey," she said, and smiled up at him.

He knew she was only jesting with him--Isabelle was aware that the small dagger could have other uses as well--so he smiled back at her and seated himself, cross-legged, on the grass. Humphrey saw that Isabelle had managed to crush some of the blackberries between two flat rocks, to make a paste that they were spreading onto the dry, rough bread, making it somewhat more palatable, so he helped himself.

After their hunger had been eased, somewhat, Humphrey brought up an important subject. "We must have a story as to why we are on the road, in case any should question us," he told the two youngsters. "If we have enemies searching for us, they may be seeking a young princess and her escort, so I feel the safest story be one that seems simple. We shall therefore be traveling up from South Port, headed for Highrock."

"And what awaits us at Highrock?" Isabelle asked.

"Nothing," Humphrey said, taking up a piece of cheese. "Our journey will take us beyond that small village, but none we meet need know that." He put the cheese in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "As a merchant of South Port," he continued, "I will be taking you, Isabelle--who will now be my niece--to live with relatives in the north, so from here on, you must call me 'Uncle,' rather than Humphrey. And, we must call you by another name, as well--it would not be wise to use 'Isabelle' on the road, in case someone should overhear and become suspicious." He took up some of the crushed blackberries and spread them over another slice of the flat bread. "Do you have a name you would like to be known by, my lady?" he asked, then bit into the bread.

She thought about it for a moment, and smiled. "I have always liked the name, Victoria," she said. "Might I be called that?"

"As you wish, Victoria," Humphrey said, chewing around the words. He swallowed the bread and took a pull from one of the water skins. "Bruce," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "out of necessity, you will have to remain our servant in this charade."