[Arry]

Camp is packed up and the group turns westward across the plains

From the wide and rugged shelf of rock that formed the East Wall of Rohan, near where the Nen Hithoel cascaded downward in the Falls of Rauros, the small group of travelers had turned west into the broad valley of the East Emnet. It was atop one of the hillocks there that they had sheltered as the rains pelted down.

Sythric and Rædwald had managed to string some canvas tarps among the trees which afforded some respite to the horses and the companions. A small fire gave the added comfort of hot tea and hot food while the group waited.

The rains at first fell in a thick slanting curtain of water, cutting them off visually from anything at a greater distance than the lip of the hill. Sounds too were difficult to hear from outside the little area of shelter. The rain was loud as it beat against the tarps and splashed down on the sere grassed ground of late autumn.

Little by little the downpour let up. What was once a lowering darkness as the storm pressed in upon them, now gave way to the hazy greyness as rain became a lighter mist and then stopped all together. The threatening clouds had moved on and there seemed no more to follow.

Brand was the first done with the meal, and as the day had lightened, he went to where the horses were picketed and untied Lady. He brought her round to the area near the other tarp and replaced what few items he’d got from his pack – his bowl and spoon, his little packet of herbs for tea. The pack he secured to his saddle.

‘We should move out,’ he said, knowing that would be an unpopular plan; for although the rain had let up, the day had grown more chill from the damp and the wind. ‘There are a few more hours of light left to us. And now that we are turning westward, it is but three days’ ride to River Entwash, and from there just two to the King’s Hall.

He narrowed his eyes and looked west over the broad plain of the East Emnet. In the distance he could see trees scattered across the rolling countryside in little thickets. ‘We can make for that bigger coppice there,’ he said, pointing to where a small spinney of bare limbed oak were growing on a once grassy little rise. ‘That will be our night’s camp.’ He turned back to where most of the others were still gathered about the little fire. ‘We will still have plenty of evening light to set up our shelter once we get there.’

With some reluctance the others set themselves in motion. And soon the noon camp was taken down and packed away, the fire put out. The companions mounted up once again. Osmod and Fion rode at the lead for now as Brand and Rædwald fell to the back. Two scouts went out as before . . . Vaenosa, as was her preference, and one other . . .

The horses plodded westward with as much enthusiasm in their gait as seemed on the faces of those astride them.