After traveling across the sky all day, the sun slowly sank west of the Misty Mountains, and shadows gradually shrouded all of eastern Rhovanion.
The fleet Herbert led had already traveled dozens of kilometers along the Running River. Exhaustion had forced the young men to change rowers several times, but they could not rest, nor did they dare to.
As the two groups continued east along the Running River, the trees on its banks grew increasingly dense. The thick forest was no longer suitable for horses to run through. Reluctant though they were, Bal and Akkad, who led the cavalry, could only abandon their strategy of keeping pace with Herbert along the bank and look for another route better suited to their riders.
With the Easterlings gone, the north bank had finally fallen quiet, but the change in his surroundings did nothing to ease Herbert's anxiety.
Instead, he grew even more nervous. After all, an unseen enemy was more frightening still.
Herbert knew Bal would not give up so easily. Horses running along the bank were far faster than boats rowing against the current, and he could not shake the feeling that the enemy might be waiting ahead.
"Keep close to the south bank. Longbowmen, watch the north bank at all times."
The trees on both banks grew denser as the boats advanced. Birds taking flight now and then warned those on the river that the forest along the banks was not quiet. The current grew swifter, too, and their surroundings darkened.
In the past, merchant fleets traveling in small boats would always stop along the bank for the night once they reached this stretch, ensuring they were well rested the next morning for the more difficult waters ahead.
But Herbert, his brow tightly furrowed, found himself in a dilemma.