A slight tremor in the scrub directly ahead made him stop the horse short. He turned in the saddle, apparently unconcerned, and wiped his brow while looking around. As his gaze passed over the scrub, he glimpsed a hint of steel. The words of the soused friar came back to him. Mind the woods here, my son, for they are rife with unwelcome surprises.
Honor is at stake.
He laughed again, spilling ale on his brown robe. He waved his hand haphazardly in the air and sloshed the tankard upwards, flinging ale at the horse. Scowling in disgust, the knight spurred the horse onward. He smiled thinly. This gang of robbing hoodlums would soon have an accounting of their own.