Bruce appeared from the brush on the trail behind Barker and with a nod from Humphrey he turned his roan and rode back the way their friend had come. Isabelle also came out of hiding, to pull Chestnut up on Humphrey’s left side.
Barker bowed in his saddle toward her and turned back to Humphrey. “I stopped only long enough to gather some weapons from the home of me sister and came to warn ye and assist in any way I might be of service.”
“Our thanks, indeed, for the warning, Master Barker,” Humphrey told him, “but I think we should go on by ourselves. There be no reason to involve you or your family any further in our problems.”
“I beg to differ, Sir Humphrey,” Barker said, his voice sounding grave. “Any threat to the king or his family is a threat to all people of the Westerlands. If I were to stand aside and nae aid ye in yer quest, I could never return to me own family and hold me head high. Nae to mention that me wife would naught let me rest in peace if anything were to happen to our future queen when I had it in me power to prevent it.”
Humphrey was thinking about Barker’s argument when Bruce rode up the trail toward them. He pulled his horse in close to Bastion.
“Riders coming, Sir,” he said quietly, “at least six, mayhap more. They come at a steady pace, but nae very fast.”
“They must be tracking us,” Humphrey said. He looked down and saw that the dirt trail was still somewhat muddy from the rain of last night and their horse’s hoof prints were easily seen in the soft ground. His gaze returned to Barker. “How is it you reached us before the soldiers, if as you say they left some time ahead of you?” he asked.
“I came through the woods, Sir,” he explained, “and only hoped that ye would take the first trail ye found which led in the general direction ye wished to go. I knew of this trail and came across it some way back—apparently ahead of the soldiers—and saw yer tracks right off, then hurried to catch ye up.”
“We should be away, Sir Humphrey,” Isabelle cautioned.
“Sir Humphrey,” Barker said. “I know the land between here and yonder mountains as well as I know me own wife’s lovely backside. Pardon me language, yer Grace,” he added to Isabelle and turned back to Humphrey. “I can lead wherever ye need to go and bypass most known roads and trails in the process.”
They did not have the time to haggle, so Humphrey gave him a quick nod and tugged on Bastion’s reins to turn him toward the north, once again. “Lead on, Master Barker,” he said.
“Aye, Sir Humphrey,” Barker said, his moustache twitching. “There be a shallow stream nae too far ahead where we might lose those behind us.” He kicked his horse in the flanks and rode off, with Humphrey and his little band close behind.
Barker set a fast pace and soon the trail began a slight downward slope, until they came upon a quick moving stream nestled in a shallow valley. Neither very wide nor overly deep, this stream would eventually merge with the Green River, somewhere to the east. Barker led them into the water and then turned upstream, moving away from the River Road. Humphrey followed the Innkeeper, with Isabelle and Bruce close behind him.
