One
The three travelers rode forth silently, the two horses plodding slowly forward. A Man, Aragorn son of Arathorn to be precise, rode tall and proud upon his horse, the chestnut and kingly Brego. Sharing the white horse next to him were Gimli, son of Glóin, and Legolas, prince of Mirkwood.
Suddenly, the travelers stopped, awestruck by an amazing sight: a range of mountains, proud and tall, the tallest of which reached the lowest clouds.
"What lies over those mountains, I wonder?" asked Legolas of no one in particular.
"That, mellon nin, is what we're here to find out," Aragorn replied. "Now come, there is no time to waste, for the sun is already high!"
"No time to waste, indeed!" Legolas exclaimed. He was a Woodland Elf, and had little liking for mountains and caves, where there was no grass. "Perhaps," he said, "you have forgotten that at least one of our party is injured without fail every time we enter a cave?"
"I have not forgotten," Aragorn replied calmly, "Nor have I forgotten that you, Legolas, are always the first to fall injured. But the same is usually true for Gimli in woods, and I on plains, so it is likely that we shall all be injured at some point during this journey."
"He's made a point there, laddie," Gimli replied sensibly. Legolas could think of no reply to these statements, and thus so remained sullen but silent.
When they reached the base of the mountain, it was clear that the only way to get to the other side would be to go through a (yup, you guessed it) dark, wet, miserable-looking cave.
Legolas sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. "Why does it always have to be a cave?" He received no answer.
Quietly, the Elf and Man spoke to their horses, bidding them to take the message to Arwen in Gondor that they were all right, and simply could not take the horses with them. Then, somewhat unwillingly, the trio entered the cave in front of them.