[Nuranar]

The slide had rumbled to a stop in the rough ground just on the other side of the path. Tarondo and Menecar found Silrûth waiting for them. From the sound of it, the Trolls, foiled by the failure of the rockslide, were not in pursuit. But that was no reason to wait around. Wordlessly the three ran on through the darkness.

The horses were huddled in a hollow scarcely a thousand yards further. Riding their own mounts bareback, they led the rest in a wide circle to the south. The land seemed alive with crashings and creakings, as if all the Trolls of the north were coming down upon them.


The eastern sky was turning grey when they reached camp once more. Not until he dismounted did Tarondo see Thoronmir, standing motionless against the trunk of a twisted tree. "How has it been?" he asked as Silrûth and Menecar rode up. Tiredly the three led the horses toward the erstwhile picket line.

"Not a sound since you left. I made your sister get some sleep, about two hours ago."

"You did? Good for you." Tarondo surveyed the land, shadowed and vague in the beginning light. "Those Trolls are still about, and they're planning. There are orcs, too. Silrûth and I both knew it, although we never saw them. I know the horses are tired, but we need to leave as soon as there's light enough."

Thoronmir looked at him critically. "The horses aren't the only ones that are tired. You need to rest. Come on, I'll call you in an hour."

Experienced campaigners, Menecar and Silrûth were already snatching what sleep that they could. Tarondo smiled ruefully. "You win."


By the time the sun rose above the mountains, the companions were in the saddle and several miles down the road. Stampedes and rockslides? Tarondo thought. We can handle that. If only they don't get any more ideas...

Still ahead of them lay the Last Bridge, their halfway mark. But beyond it, the Trollshaws.