Bali sat in the wagon, sipping from Belegond's canteen. He was a little sore from being scrunched in the wagon, but thankful to be alive. He was, however, still burning with anger over missing a good fight, and more importantly, letting his friends go into danger which he would be shielded from. He vowed silently never to allow anyone to hide him again, as long as he lived.
They had travelled for a while, now; about five days, and were nearing the weather hills. "Soon we will be at weathertop, friends. We can make a camp there, and get some shelter up, as we will mostlikely be the first to arrive."
The others agreed on the plan. After about an hour's ride they arrived at weathertop. It was a large hill, fairly tall and steep, with a small dell on the southern side and a ring of broken statues and stone on the plateu at the top.
Eruantalon stayed at the bottom of the hill, watching the horses and the wagon, while Bali lead Yanithe and Belegond up the hill. They soon arrived at the dell.
It was small, damp, and not very inviting. It also showed evidence of being recently used. A single pair of heavily booted feet had trodden the ground, and many other, smaller tracks were seen. Belegond did not like the look of them, and neither did Bali.
"Orc tracks if I ever saw them. Perhaps it would be best to move on tonight and not stay here at Weathertop."
"Aye, I would agree, but our friends are counting on us meeting them here. How else will they get horses?" The friends were not happy with the arrangement, but all decided that it was best to stay. They built a small shelter in the dell and put up the tents, and then got a fire going. Bali rubbed his hands together in anticipation, as it was their first hot meal since before the "incident" in Bree. The group shared a merry supper with one another, all looking for the rest of the company to arrive.
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