300 Horses

Ellow rode up the main street of Minnisterreth. She stopped, leaving her Mearas beside the walkway. Truly Rhohanian, she admired the blinding white coat, the gleaming trappings; a birthday gift two months ago. She was still dazzled by its beauty.

Her thoughts drifting, she glanced out over the sprawl of the city. Pellennor Fields was a misnomer. Fields denoted growing things. The only thing growing here was the population.

Locking the doors of the 9857 edition car, she mused, bounding up the stairs to the palace: her grandmother, five thousand years removed, would be surprised to see the grand city.