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Edhener had spent most of the night awake, lying on his back and gazing at the cealing. Only in the early hours did he manage to get some sleep, and that was soon enterupted, as they had to start their journey.
Edhener looked arround him searchingly, as he rode. His horse seemed restless, as if he could somehow remember another morning, many years ago, when he had taken this road. He had carried another rider then, a rider to which he was more atatched, but with which he would be soon fated to part. Edhener sighed. It was strange, he thought, that he had lost his horse in the battle of Pelennor, and survived, while his brother had died even if his mount had escaped.
He patted his horse. "You know these places, don't you, old boy?" he asked. "You remember them. How eager you were in that day! You ran so fast, your master could hardly restrain you. Well, you were young then. And so were we."
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