The journey to Quenelles took three days. If Sir Robert had dreamed that he was to ride at the side of the Duke and share in his counsel, he was sorely disappointed. The knights errant were all but ignored by the knights of the realm, let alone by the nobles at the front of the march. As they drunk together around their camp-fire at the end of the days journey, Sir Robert was drawn into the cameraderie of the knights errant. The leader of the small band was Sir Clarance of Quenelles, the standard was born by Sir Bleobert, while Sir Tybold was charged with carrying the horn. Sir Robert was the youngest there, but only by a few months from Sir Charles who had been commissioned as a knight errant just before the Duke had left Quenelles to head north.

They all competed with each other to be the first ready in the morning, to have the best-polished armour, and in as many other competitions as they could possibly think of whilst they had no time to hunt or joust due to the imperative of reaching Quenelles as quickly as possible. On the evening of the second day they could see the spires of Quenelles reaching high into the sky, and by nones on the third day they were marching through the gates of the city. Many knights were already gathered there, having responded to the call put out by the Duke's messengers. Emmisaries from the realm of Athel Loren were also there to meet with the Duke, seemingly worried about the threat posed to their realm by Kemmler.

After about four days in Quenelles, the army was mustered to march to war. By this time the forces from Haute-Morceaux had just arrived, having left the day after the Duke but travelled slower due to the presence of infantry in their ranks. Sir Robert had little time to see them except to recognise their banner from afar before the knights errant were ordered to march out. They were all astonished to find themselves being led up the river Brienne into Athel Loren, flanked on both sides by tall, silent woodelves on elven steeds.

The journey under the trees was strangely silent. There was little wish to engage in jokes and chatter with the solomn elves watching, and when they stopped at night they cut no firewood and lit no fires. They turned in early with none of the joviality that normally accompanied a Bretonnian camp. They travelled in this way for a week until they emerged at the foot of the Grey Mountains, where they gratefully took leave of their elven guides - and felt free to breath easily again.

As the sun set over the forest, the Duke gathered his forces together a short way into the foothills and made camp. After the fires were lit for the first time since they had left Quenelles, he called them all together and addressed them. "As you know, we are here persuing the infamous necromancer Kemmler. We have received information that he has been raising an army of undead in the Grey Mountains, preparing to sweep down into Bretonnia. Our friends, the wood elves, therefore gave us safe passage through their realm, that we could combat this menace before it is too late. Now, however, the situation has changed. Not a days march from here is the abbey of Maisontaal and we have received word from the abbot, Bagrian, that it is under siege from a force of Skaven. They are already into the second day of this siege, and fear that the walls will not stand a third. We therefore ride tomorrow at first light to the relief of this abbey and the ruin of the skaven, after which we will continue our search for Kemmler - if the scent of death does not draw him to the battle we go to find."

The knights errant were too excited to sleep much that night. For all of them it was to be their first taste of real battle, although most had fought skirmishes against orcs and goblins and a few had met skaven before - Sir Robert among them. Eventually they did settle down and slept for a few hours before being woken by the sounding of horns as the first light of dawn touched the sky. It was to be a long march in the semi-darkness as the sun remained hidden behind the towering mountains well after it would normally have blessed them with its light. The strange shadows seemed to hide all manner of enemies, and more than once one knight errant or another started as a rabbit shot out from under a rock or a bird swooped low over head.