Riding through Trestlebridge.

We three rode swiftly through Trestlebridge, for there was no reason we should halt. We were in pursuit of a Black Wagon, bearing our friend, Parnard away to the South. We would catch up as soon as possible. 

Estarfin's mare, Norlome, pushed ahead, wishing to carry her rider as fast as possible from a place he so hated. But she was moving uphill after the gate, and had pushed past her limits.

(Picture by Estarfin.) 

Story Link: The Greenway: Part One. | The Laurelin Archives