Esgallhugwen waved Lira on, she could not leave Lumiel and Finéwen without trace of where their companions had gone. They had only gone so far when they had to come back to retrieve the horses and ponies.
At first it seemed difficult to catch up, Morsereg was hungry for the chase but Eswen checked him quickly reminding him that they must wait for everyone. The Hobbit ponies were fast in their own right and they tried desperately to keep up with the large fast horses.
The horse trail began to split up, she was about to call out but they were already surrounded by sixty mounted men. Lumiel yelled for the Hobbit's to hide in the middle of their party, she was one of the first to draw her sword in protection of them, it glowed blood red in the failing light.
The men didn't respond. Esgallhugwen looked at each man that surrounded them, rough, vile and cruel, bent on torture and slaughter. All whisps of a time that people wished was utterly destroyed, only to find that they would be swallowed up again by the darkness of it.
She came to the Hobbits, 'keep a close eye on all of them, if you can, stay near and at hand to Lumiel and myself, we will help you' her face was hooded but a lovely, caring Elvish voice emanated from the sable green cloth.
Nimrómen shifted in her saddle bag, Eswen hoped he would be able to take the rough ride that awaited him, she had no time to set him aside in safety. The men made no move, Esgallhugwen fitted an arrow to her bow, still no move.
The uneasy tension rose among their company, what were they waiting for? What strategem did they have in mind? The silence was reverberating with death and foreboding.
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