warmth from his talisman. Surprised, Lily turned in his grasp to see what he was doing, but quickly returned to her vigil of the darkness that lay ahead. She stopped shivering, however.
They arrived at the level of the river a little after midnight. A half-hour later they reached the Bridge Fortress, which was so well-concealed between the natural folds of the almost verticle hillside that it seemed to appear out of the gloom all at once. It seemed as impregnable and unassailable as the mountains themselves, rising tier after crenellated tier into the blackness above them. The only approach from this side was from the narrow Road, and one facing the fortress from the Road saw only high stone battlements and the black iron gates at its feet. Though this was a habitation of elves, it seemed altogether a grim, daunting place, towering over the road like a giant's fist. The mere fact that the gates were closed seemed a threat in itself.
Riding ahead of the company to within a stone's throw of the gate, Dorain stood in her stirrups and shouted over the tumult of the river. "Hail, Bridgemaster Perrin! It is Dorain, captain of the Seventh Northern Division. I have returned with Belloc, friend and ally of the King, his apprentice, Anest of Brand, Anest's wife, Lily, and captain Brogan of Brand with the men under his command. We require entry."