Like fresh rains in Spring CHAPTER VI
The road to Lothriel got always steeper and more perilous. The beaten paths ever fewer, the villages rarer. Theoson had to walk through wild forests, climb over narrow mule-tracks or steep scree-slopes. Winter’s bite seemed to devour everything. And, the more he proceeded, the traveler’s stops the fewer, since he did not depend anymore on the villagers’ hospitality for eating and spending the night. When hunger compelled him not to go further, he ate from the magical basket, and, when night fell over his head, his flute cast clear light illuminating his path, as a star to him in those hostile dales.
He kept on for days, until he met on his path a weak, sad woman, who looked like she had not had anything to eat for a few days already. She was sitti
