The Lhun was a wide and shallow river before it gathered its tribute from the stream that flowed out of the Blue Mountains, and its bed was of smooth sand and stone. The confluence of the river with the Little Lhun was wide but gentle, and the ferry landing there was often busy with trade in the summer months. Below this juncture the Lhun flowed on stronger and faster and in a deeper bed for over fifty leagues until it emptied into the Gulf beyond Mithlond. There was no safe crossing except by boat over the river south of the Ferry, and in long years past that boundary had proved a strong guard against enemies of the western shores where Elves still dwelt.

The ford that Fili knew was little less than two miles above the meeting of the big Lhun with the little. It was well hidden and, though the river was low for the time of year, it still rose above the knees of their ponies and was icy cold for it flowed down out of the northernmost hills of Ered Luin, and those were capped with snow all the year round.

They rode quickly to the ford. This time, even Betta was willing to push their ponies as fast as they would dare without spilling the baggage. They reached the river with enough daylight left that Fili was willing to risk the crossing, and the others were willing to follow him.

It was a cold crossing, and the icy water splashed over their legs and froze them nearly to the bone. The cold was bitter, the more so because they were not yet used to being cold. All three travelers felt the danger of the land that they were entering into and knew that the river no longer defended them from the barren eastern plains – if it ever had. Even so, they lit a fire that night within sight of the river and even Betta huddled with the Dwarves close to the flames. They hung their wet clothes on the branches of a nearby tree and hoped that they would dry before the night air froze them solid.

"We have been lucky," Fili said, throwing wood upon the fire. "The weather promises to remain warm, or not as cold as it might have been at this time of the year. But we must angle our course north tomorrow and meet the topmost Hills of Evendim by the shortest route… if that is still our path…"

Betta had pulled her blanket around her shoulders, and she sat with the pages of the map laid on the ground between her knees. She nodded. "North, over Evendim," she said. "There was a tower there when this map was drawn, the last outpost of some small city as I read it. At least, I believe it to be a tower. It may be some other work of stone, the image is not clear, and the name of Ankor means nothing to me." She frowned at the page and shook her head. "Whether the thing still stands, I do not know."

"Then we will look for fallen stone," Fili said. "Rest, now. There will be time for map-reading tomorrow. I will take the first watch."

Nearly every night since they had set out – and often every day, as well – Fili had asked for direction from the map, and no answer that she gave was ever clear enough to satisfy him. For the first time, he was not demanding more information, and so she did not argue. She lay down close to the fire with her blankets wrapped around her, and she shivered as she slept.

The sun had sunk below Ered Luin and the moon had not yet risen beyond Emyn Uial. Kili moved closer to his brother. "Should we not set two to a watch?" he asked quietly. "Knowing the danger…?"

"If there is any danger, it would be better that we are well-rested," Fili said. "I do not fear a sudden assault, and neither should you. We will hear our enemy coming, if there is an enemy at all."

"There were orc arrows."

"I need no reminder of that," Fili said. "A thief will take what weapons he finds, be they laying on the ground or in another man's pocket."

"You truly think that some wild man found a stash of orc arrows and took them for his own?" Kili pressed on.

Fili sighed. "I believe that evil breeds evil, as it is said, and it is more likely that the men brought their danger with them and were killed by others who they harmed or meant to harm. Sleep now, brother, and cease looking for monsters where there are none. We will not be disturbed this night."

Kili said nothing more, but it took him long to fall asleep that night, and he kept his weapons near.

.

Fili's words proved true, however, and the night passed without event. Kili took his turn at watch and after him, he woke Betta and she sat up to watch the sun rise over the eastern hills. The only thing that any of them heard besides the wind and the rustling of night animals in the long grasses was the distant howl of wolves. The sound carried far across the flatness of the plains, and there were many leagues between the pack of wolves and the travelling company. The ponies shivered, but the howls did not come closer. At the dawn they ceased.

They rode on again, and another day passed. The only change was that the Emyn Uial drew nearer and the land became more rocky and bare until Fili worried that they would reach a place where there would be no grass for the ponies. Among their baggage they had packed in sacks a supply of feed, anticipating the coming winter, but it was only a precaution and they had not expected to use it. Fili kept this thought to himself, not wanting to admit that the animals that Betta had so strongly opposed might become a burden to them in the end.

When they stopped to eat their meal at midday, Betta drew out her maps and again poured over the pages. Kili tried to help, but his knowledge of the land of Arnor was dim.

Fili proved more useful. He had passed over the northern plains once thirty years ago with Gloin on what the older dwarf had called an adventure but which had turned out to be merely an excuse to separate two young brothers who had begun to take each other for granted and spent most of their waking hours fighting loud enough to rouse all of Ered Luin and the surrounding lands. After weeks apart, Fili had realized how important it was to keep Kili in his sights, and the two brothers had seldom been parted thereafter. Of course, although their fights were now few and far between, they were still infamously loud.

It was Fili who recognized two lines of faded ink as an old bridge over the long dried-up river that lay a few miles north of the Emyn Uial. After they reached the Hills, if they could not find the old tower, then they might make for the bridge. Fili thought that he could find it again.