Their travel on the deer path veered away from the cliff faces and on past the high hills to the forest, where it trailed along the green belt. They had gone around Hollyheln and on to the other side, heading toward the village of Wildeburgh.

Wildeburgh was a smaller village, not a point of trade like Hollyheln had been, but it still sported a fare few townsfolk who traveled to Hollyheln often. Isaac hoped to reach it before afternoon.

"I haven't been to Hollyheln since I was a child." William said to Luke. "We went there to collect stationary from a Brother who had been bringing it back. He had broken his ankle on a root outside of the village and hobbled his way there, but couldn't finish the trek.

"What did you do?" Luke asked.

"Well, Brother Barry packed him in the hand cart along with the stationary and we drove him back. The whole time he kept moaning, 'ow, oof! Easy there, I can't handle all of the bumps!' And then Brother Barry would call back, 'you lazy lout! You can't walk without breaking something, if you spill an inkwell on any of that fresh parchment I'll dump you into the ditch!" The two began laughing, doubling over and wiping tears from their eyes as they couldn't stop the torrent of laughter. It was a sweet release, in a way, like the pressure that had been building up in them was being let out and they couldn't stop it. Soon William was wheezing which made Luke laugh all the harder.

Isaac realized the two had lagged behind and turned back.

"Come on, now. We need to keep going." He said gently. The two agreed and went along the trail.

The forest broke sparsely and the trees began to stretch wider and sparser into the fields. The trail cut through the waist-high grasses flowing like water in the wind.

"I don't like crossing open ground." He muttered as he palmed his sword and wiped his brow.

"I don't think we have much of a choice." Luke said beside him.

Isaac scanned the treeline behind them and looked ahead past the fields.

"It isn't much farther to Wildeburgh." He said, and pointed to a hill beyond the fields. It was crowned with trees at its tops, thin birch trees with collared white trunks. "If we can make it to that hill, we can stop for rest."

And so they kept on, crossing the fields with haste while watching behind their backs. When they reached the end of the fields and another copse of trees Isaac stopped them and waited, listening and watching. When he determined that they weren't followed they continued on.

They climbed the hill and came to the white birch trees.

"Sit down." Isaac told them. "I'll get a fire going."

"A fire? I thought we couldn't have any fires?" Luke questioned.

"Back in Hollyheln we couldn't. But my hope is that we are far enough away, and haven't been tracked, that the enemy is still busy in the forest around Hollyheln and that a small fire will be safe for the time being."

So after foraging supplies nearby, Isaac took out a flint and struck it with his knife. The kindling smoked and spit out a small fire which he nursed larger and larger before heaping on sticks. Soon they had a small fire that licked and spit but gave little smoke to rise above them.

"There's not much smoke." Isaac said. "And it's light smoke, it will blend in with the clouds in the sky if any of the enemy happen to see us."

"Do you think they're close enough to see?" William asked.

"I pray not." Isaac said.

They took their oats and water and made a small lunch of oatmeal, which Isaac seasoned with some mint he found nearby. It wasn't much, but it was filling enough to keep them going.

Isaac stomped out the fire, and they readied their packs to move.

"Okay, we make for Wildeburgh, then?" Luke asked.

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Isaac didn't respond.

"Knight, Knight? We move for the village?-"

"Quiet." Isaac whispered and concentrated, listening. The other two went silent.

"Get down!" Isaac yelled and tackled William to the ground. As they landed in the dirt a knife came careening through the air and embedded itself in the trunk where William had been standing.

They came rising from the slope of the hill, men in black robes holding their curved swords high, screaming battle cries.

"Get behind me!" Isaac said and drew his sword.

The robed men engaged with Isaac, their swords clinging together as they dueled. William scrambled away as Luke grabbed him. Isaac continued to fight with the men, parrying their blows and cutting one across his side, staggering him. With a kick Isaac knocked him to the ground before catching another sword's blow and deflecting it into a tree trunk and punching the attacker with his off hand.

"Run into the woods!" Isaac called back to them.

"Let's go!" Luke said, and the two scrambled away, pushing through the brush and running down the hill.

"They're getting away!" Came the gruff voice of one of the men, and he turned and ran down the hill towards them. Isaac dodged another blow from an attacker, grabbed the knife embedded in the tree trunk and threw it down the hill. The knife spiralled through the air like a tomahawk before lodging itself deep into the man's back, crumpling him.

The two made it down the hill and to the wood line. They ran through thorns and brambles deeper into the forest. Soon the sound of singing metal and glancing blows quieted amongst the branches. The two ran until their exhaustion caught up to them, and they fell to the ground gasping. The forest was silent, only the sound of their ragged breaths could be heard.

"Where-" Luke started before taking another breath. "Where did they come from?"

"Don't know." William panted, sitting against a tree trunk and looking up past the branches to the sky overhead. The wind was strong up high, the clouds were streaking past the branches.

"I never heard them, I never saw them." Luke said, shaking his head. "I don't know how they caught us."

A branch broke nearby, the two went silent, their eyes widening as they looked to each other. Do they move? Do they grab a rock and try to fight back? They both froze.

From the brush a hand reached out and grabbed William's shoulder. He yelped and Luke jumped to his feet before the face of Isaac Knight emerged from the brush.

"Are either of you hurt?" He asked.

"No." They said.

"Good." Isaac came out from the brush and stood before them, mud on his armor and his sword still wet with blood.

He led them back to their camp. The lifeless forms of the men lay about the camp, three of them in total.

"I doubt I need to press on you how hurriedly we need to leave." Isaac said, grabbing his pack.

"You don't have to tell me twice." Luke said, collecting his things.

Isaac knelt down beside two of the bodies before working at their belts.

"What are you doing?" William asked, coming closer.

"Here." Isaac said, and threw something to William, he fumbled his catch and clanging to his feet was a sword and scabbard. He picked them up.

"What-what should I do with this?" He asked.

"Hopefully fight with it." Isaac chortled and threw a similar sword and scabbard to Luke. "You two will have to learn to defend yourselves."

"We can defend ourselves just fine!" Luke said. "We would spar all the time in Hollyheln."

"Sparring with sticks and branches is not the same as a sword fight, Luke." Isaac said.

"I know that." Luke said. "I'm just saying that we aren't helpless, you know."

"I never said you were." Isaac called back, heading down the slope. "Now come! The cover of the forest will not be enough safety by nightfall."