Humphrey sincerely hoped that statement rang true, as he now felt that he and Isabelle required such friends. If they managed to reach the land of the Three Mountain Clan alive, he would no doubt discover if his father spoke the truth.

When the sky in the east began to fade from black to a deep purple, Humphrey started looking for a place to cross the river, so they could climb out onto the opposite bank. When a bit more light spilled over the land, he spotted a shallow ford and they crossed to the far side of the river, then continued to move north, still plodding through the cold water. Eventually, they came upon a place where the rocky shore would hide evidence of their horses leaving the river, and Humphrey led them ashore. He allowed the horses to drink once more, and had Bruce fill their water skins. After a short rest, they turned their mounts and headed inland.

The sun was just cresting the horizon when they found a sizeable thicket, surrounded by ancient oaks and a thick bramble of blackberry bushes. Within the thicket, there was plenty of space for the horses to graze on the lush grass, and room enough for all of them to stretch out and obtain a few minutes of needed sleep. From their position, they were well hidden from view by any casual passerby, but could easily see anyone who might approach them.

"Leave the horses saddled, Bruce," Humphrey said, once they were within the thicket and he had climbed down from Bastion. "We will not be here, that long."

"Aye, Sir Humphrey," Bruce said, then jumped down from his roan to help Isabelle dismount.

While she needed no assistance getting down from her little cob, Humphrey smiled as he watched her wait patiently for his former squire to gently help her to the ground. Standing close together, they stared into each other's eyes for a moment, but suddenly they both seemed embarrassed by their closeness and Bruce quickly ducked his head to the princess, and snatched up Chestnut's reins, to lead him to one side of the thicket. His roan followed close behind.

Bastion snorted and shook his great head. Humphrey chuckled and patted the horse's neck. "They just be young, lad," he said, softly. "You remember being young, eh, boy?" One huge brown eye regarded Humphrey, and when Bastion blinked, it appeared that one eye winked at the knight. Humphrey chuckled, again. "Aye, you remember," he said.

Bruce had been on enough campaigns and forays with Humphrey to know camp routine, so was already pulling provisions from the bags hanging from his horse's saddle--provisions he had 'acquired' from the castle kitchen at Humphrey's behest the day before. After he spread a large cloth on the dew covered grass, he unwrapped a pair of loaves of dark bannock, as well as some cheese, and laid these items out to break their fast.

Isabelle, too, was busy helping to prepare their meal. She lifted a corner of her cloak and within the depression thus formed, was dropping handfuls of blackberries to add to their meager feast. Seeing that everything was being done that needed to be, Humphrey removed an oil rag from a pouch hanging from his own saddle, and sat down against one of the old oaks. He pulled the small dagger from his belt and unsheathed it, to examine the blade. It was an eating dagger, the blade not much longer than his hand was wide, but it could also be a deadly weapon, if used properly.