“Oh, I am not trustworthy, not at all,” Summer laughed. “Alone, and rather more helpless than is my usual wont, as well. I don’t think you need fear me, Sir Knight.” She neatly ducked a tangle of slim branches, sliding through the brush beside him with barely a rustle. “Were you planning to stay the night in the forest, then, since you too were so far from the city? Or do I slow you down so?”
Mordred shook his head. He had not intended on spending the knight on the floor in the middle of a forest alone, only that he had taken a small detour and that was what had caused him to run into this woman. So that was twice as long as he had expected to take turning around.
“I was not going to stay the night, no, I knew I would be out until late but a few … happenings caused me to be later than I should have been. Luckily for you.” And it was lucky for her, had he not taken this route, he would not have come across her, and he doubted she would have been able to make it to the city without being attacked again.
“It was. Very lucky.” She glanced over at him. He was quite skilled in the forest, keeping that enormous red cloak from catching on all the little snags. “Well,” she said at last, “I am willing to press on through the dark, if you wish, since you say we are close. The night frightens me no more than the day. Or I assume you know of a place to make camp.”