Humphrey turned to face the remaining soldier as he scrambled to his feet, his helmet lost when he fell over the log, and the dark knight realized this was a lad no older than Bruce. The young man looked around the clearing, saw all of his comrades lying dead, and turned to see Humphrey staring at him.

The boy threw down his sword and held his hands out in front of him. “I yield, good sir,” he cried and dropped to his knees. “I yield. Mercy, good sir, mercy, I pray.”

Humphrey lowered his sword and glared at the lad. “On yer belly, boy,” he growled and the young man quickly obeyed, his face pressed in the dirt. The dark knight heard Barker approaching from behind him.

“What have we here, then?” Barker asked as he came up next to the knight.

“One who does nae wish to die, today, it would seem,” he answered. “And how did yer own battles fare?”

“All dead,” Barker told him as he sheathed his sword and rested the axe on his left shoulder. “Two of ‘em bled out from their wounds and the third lost his head.”

“You held your own very well,” Humphrey said, “for an Innkeeper.”

“Aye, Sir, and as I told ye, I were not always an Innkeeper.”

“Indeed, and lucky for us.” He could see their talk was making the prostrate youth tremble and the boy must have thought he too would be slaughtered at any moment, along with the rest of his company. “You, there,” Humphrey barked. “Get up.”

The lad pushed himself to his knees and then slowly climbed to his feet. There was a dark, spreading stain at his crotch.

“Why, t’is but a boy,” Barker said, softly, “playin’ at bein’ a soldier.”

“He did try to kill me, after all.”

“Aye, but he did nae try very hard.”

“True,” Humphrey agreed with a slight smile. “And what are we to do with him, then?”

“Mayhap he could answer some questions for us,” Barker said, after a moment.

“Aye, mayhap. Would you be so good as to search about the camp and see if there is anything we might find useful, while I talk to the lad?” Humphrey asked.

“Of course, Sir Humphrey,” he replied with a nod. “Ye just call out if ye need me.”

When Bruce ran up to the horses, he was surprised and somewhat worried to discover that Isabelle was not there. He scanned the surrounding woods, but saw no sign of her. He dare not call out, lest there be other enemy about, so he bent to look for some sign of her passage on the ground. The thick loam and short grass, however, would make tracking difficult. Bruce was about to return to the clearing and inform Humphrey the princess was missing, when he heard someone approaching from behind the horses. While he wanted to run over and discover who it was, he knew better than to do such as that, so he slipped behind a tree and quietly waited.

A few moments later he saw Isabelle step from some bushes and he rushed to meet her. “Me lady, are ye quite well?” he asked, worried about her disappearance.

She was slightly startled to see Bruce, and when she noticed that he was splattered with blood, she reached out to take his hand in both of hers. “I am well, but what about yourself?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.

“I too am well, me lady,” he said, a blush rising to his cheeks as she caressed his hand. He looked down and saw dried blood on one of her hands. “Me lady,” he blurted out and forgot himself by grabbing the stained hand to look at it more closely. “What has happened? Are ye hurt?”