The birds grew quiet as a new sound insinuated itself into the gentle quiet of the forest. The sound, faint at first, was a muffled metallic clanging of armored men hurrying through the forest. The noise grew as the king, his son the prince, and a dozen men burst through the tree line next to the ford. Eight of the men wore knights'armor and carried swords. Three were clad in heavy leather armor complete with shields and pikes. The twelfth man wore light leather armor and carried a bow. A quiver of arrows was on his back.

      The king and the prince were taller than the rest and were also dressed in armor. Their armor was brightly polished and they both had golden crowns fixed to their helmets. They were similar in appearance except the king had a gray beard. The entire company stopped and studied the stream.

      “This is where we cross?” asked the king.

      “Yes, my Liege,” said one of the pike men. “It's usually not so high, but I think we can still cross here.”

      “How much further to the bridge?” asked one of the knights.

      “Not more than a hundred yards, sire.”

      “We need to hurry”, said the Prince. “Lead on.”

      The pike man nodded and stepped down into the stream. He walked as quickly as he could in the racing water. With the butt end of his pike he probed the bottom for holes or loose rocks. The other two pike men did the same on either side of him. The rest of the company followed. One man stumbled on a loose stone. The party emerged from the water on the far side of the stream and quickly followed the lead pike man into the forest.

      The path through the woods was nearly covered in undergrowth. It wound around the larger trees and the occasional boulders and threaded its way along the steep hillsides. At one point the path was muddy and rose at nearly a forty-five degree angle. Everyone in the party was breathing hard when they finally emerged from the forest onto a narrow clearing next to a deep chasm. Beyond the chasm forested mountains rose into the morning haze. The chasm formed a gap between two high cliffs and bridging the gap was an ancient rope bridge. It was about one hundred and fifty feet long and the ropes that formed it were tattered and frayed. Some of the strands were missing altogether. The old boards that comprised the decking creaked and swayed erratically in the breeze.

      “That is the bridge?” snapped a knight.

      “It will never hold us,” said another.

      “We must go one at a time,” said the king.

      “I will go first, my Lord, to test the weight,” said a pike man.

      The prince did a quick count. “We are missing someone,” he said. “The archer.” He looked back toward the woods. “He must have fallen behind.”

      “He was with us at the stream,” said a knight.

      “Father, I must go back for him.”

      “No, my Lord!” said another knight. “There is no time!”

      “Please, Your Highness,” said another, “do not risk yourself. I will go back.”

      “No. It is my responsibility.”

      “He is hardly worth going back for, my Lord,” said a pike man. “He is not even a very good archer.”

      The prince looked directly at the pike man. “He will be.” He looked back toward the bridge. “The bridge can only support one at a time. I might have him back here before you are all across. But I must leave now.”

      “Are you sure you must go?” asked the king.

      “Yes, Father. He is one of my own.”

      “Then go and return quickly.” He turned to the rest of the men. “One at a time, now. Hurry!”

      One of the pike men began to cross the old bridge as the prince turned and ran back into the forest. Running was awkward in the armor and he had to reach out to branches and tree trunks to steady himself. He wound his way along the narrow path, stopping periodically to listen and search the trees ahead. Eventually he came to the stream and looked around. There was no one in sight.

      “Archer!” he called in a loud whisper. “Archer!”