They had been tracking the Elves as they moved from the shelter of that accursed wood at the meeting of the Silverlode and the Anudin. Grey wraiths, they had slipped south from Dol Guldur at the urging of their Master, seeking any who came from Caras Galadhon. Any who headed East and South toward the approaching army of Shadow.
Carchmoroth, The Black Maw, led them as they followed the seven two-leggeds, keeping beneath the shadows of the trees and well away from them. Following them by their Elven stink. Man scent was mixed in with them. More earthy and smelling of Men’s sweat. The great Warg’s son and daughter ranged out silently to flank the two-leggeds. Dûrêl to the east with ten wolves and Dúgoroth to the west with seven. Behind came The Black Maw with ten wolves at his bidding.
The Elves, he knew, need not rest at night. But the Man would slow them, needing sleep to refresh his weak body. Tonight the small group should reach the area between the two rivers, the Limlight and the Anduin. They would sweep over them there as they had been commanded.
And the taste of their blood would be sweet in their mouths . . .
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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