Harry Percy has a sword in his hand and armor on his back. It feels like he never left it off, though he knows in truth it has been months since he was last appareled so. And there, not far, a camp. It seems Edmund Mortimer-- or whatever spirit took his form-- promised true.

He starts towards it, and soon sees a rider doing the same. Their paths will cross, and he supposes that will be the test: can the rider see him, is he really here, or is he merely some sort of ghost?